The Mammoth
As if the Hunter Drake's attack had been a signal, the assaults continued several times even as they made their way toward the Felwinter domain.
Monsters and animals preparing for winter, or whose migration routes and territories happened to overlap by chance. And on top of that, bandits and barbarian tribes who were likewise preparing for the cold season.
Iceland might have been barren, but a surprising variety of life thrived there—aside from intelligent beings like humans, dwarves, and elves, the creatures they encountered barely overlapped at all.
Among them was an animal Karem had never even imagined he would see.
Bwooooooooh—!
"...That's a mammoth, isn't it?"
"Oh? You know mammoths even if you don't know anything else? Well, they are famous in other regions too."
In his previous life, they had gone extinct thousands of years ago, surviving only as genetic code in their close relatives the elephants, a handful of specimens freeze-preserved in glaciers, and fossils—the giant herbivorous predators that had once shaped the vast steppes between Asia and Europe.
A colossal mammoth covered in lush brown fur, its shoulder height easily exceeding three meters.
It had to weigh several tons. Its large, thick tusks, covered in a web of fine cracks, gleamed threateningly in the sunlight.
From the knights who had defeated every manner of foe until now down to the common soldiers, tension hung thick in the air. After all, their opponent was one of the mighty tyrants that reigned over Iceland's wilderness.
"Elder Iona. Do mammoths usually come down this far in autumn?"
"Seems autumn is passing a little early this year."
"No herd nearby, and its build is relatively small—so a male. Looking at the condition of its fur and tusks, it's quite old..."
Drawing on her experience, Catherine quickly assessed their combat strength. The calculation was swift.
The conclusion: they could drive it off without much trouble. That was what the knights were for.
But unlike the previous skirmishes they had repelled with only minor injuries, the damage to the soldiers and warriors would clearly be significant.
Even Iona, who had remained leisurely the entire way here, seemed to have reached the same conclusion as Catherine; he wiped cold sweat from his brow with a restless look.
"Lord Atanitas. It seems we'll need you to lend your strength again this time."
"With this force, driving it off without casualties would be difficult. Of course."
Catherine uncrossed her arms and flexed her fingers. Standing right beside her, Karem felt the skin-scraping bite of a blade of wind laced with a freezing cold that cut through even the oil he had rubbed on.
Bwooooooooh—!
The mammoth, which had been approaching the escort party with long strides, sensed the change as well.
Hostile eyes and a threatening trumpet blast. To Karem's ears it was nothing but a signal that an attack was coming, and he was right.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud—!
Its speed was less than half that of a horse at full gallop.
But thanks to its massive bulk, the mammoth—charging like a tank at full speed—was suddenly close enough that it looked the size of a watermelon.
"Uh, Lord Atanitas? Are you still preparing?"
"I can see it too. It's almost done."
Wait—there, finished.
Catherine swung both arms as if crossing them, her hands full of gathered cold.
And the chill that had been radiating from her vanished.
Huh, just like that? What in the world— Karem's question was answered at once.
Dozens of ice chains had suddenly risen from the ground in a U-shape, as if to cage the mammoth in front of the formation. The icicles at the ends of the chains—each as large as an adult's torso—all pointed in the same direction.
Clatter-clatter— Clash!
The moment the mammoth entered the range and tried to grasp the situation, the ice chains shot out with a violent friction sound like cannon fire and began to bind it. Watching this, Iona was astonished.
To cast magic this quickly without reagents, mediums, or even an incantation. So this was why his liege, the Duke of Iceland, had overlooked the man's rudeness and sent him in person.
Craaack— Crash! Creak-creak!
While Iona was lost in thought, the mammoth continued to trumpet in shock and fury, thrashing violently. Chains shattered under the strain, but even more ice chains wrapped around the beast.
When the mammoth finally staggered to a halt, unable to break free, the bear knights charged in at once. Just like that, the situation was resolved without a single casualty. As Karem stood gaping at the sight, Catherine lowered her arms and tapped his shoulder.
"Hey, kid. What are you staring at with your mouth hanging open?"
"Amazing magic! Whoa! So many chains!"
His pure, unadorned admiration—so raw he couldn't even form a proper sentence—didn't seem to put Catherine in a bad mood; the corner of her mouth curved up. She adjusted her disheveled cloak and waved a hand dismissively.
"It's nothing. Any other sage could do this much. If you can't even manage this, you might as well give up on being a sage—never mind immortality."
"Everyone does it just like this?"
"Well, the elements would be different, of course. The environment and season help too."
"Environment? Season? Ah."
Karem had an idea.
Exactly twice. No, three times.
That was how often Catherine had shown him magic.
The forms had all been different, but the three instances shared one very clear common trait.
Freezing blood and flesh, creating ice spears, weaving bundles of ice chains—every single one was based on ice. As Karem had guessed, she excelled most at ice magic, and of course that power was amplified in winter when ice formed most readily.
And this place, Iceland, was the coldest region in the entire Seophon Kingdom—a place that other regions would be shocked to learn did not count as winter even in spring or autumn.
As Catherine confirmed his speculation with a nod, Sir Haifon, commander of the escort, approached.
"Elder Iona. The road ahead is long, so I'm afraid we have no choice..."
"Mm. As I thought?"
"Yes. Given its size, butchering it would take a considerable amount of time as well..."
"Urgh. That is truly a shame."
At the knight's persuasion, Iona smacked his lips with genuine regret.
A shame. An absolute shame.
Mammoths lived only in the northern reaches of the Europa continent, places like Iceland in the Seophon Kingdom.
On top of that, their size and overwhelming strength made them difficult to hunt—yet their incredible flavor meant plenty of people would throw gold around and buy as much as was offered, and others who believed the meat possessed special effects.
As a result, competition was fierce and the price quite high, making mammoth one of Iceland's more lucrative exports. Even Iona himself only got to eat it a few times a year.
Of course, that was still easily twice as often as other nobles managed.
And so Elder Iona felt true regret. It would be nice if he could eat it more often when the chance arose—good for his health, too.
At those words overflowing with appetite, Karem's ears perked up.
"Elder. Is mammoth meat really that delicious?"
"Oh, Karem. Young as you are, I suppose a chef's curiosity about ingredients really is something special."
The moment a topic of interest came up, Elder Iona launched into an energetic speech as if his earlier gloom had never existed—looking for all the world like a man who had just bitten into a whole pile of fried chicken after a brutal diet.
The most delicious part was the trunk, followed by the ribs and the tenderloin, which was roasted low and slow in butter until it was meltingly soft. From the sirloin—whose flavor and aroma concentrated tenfold the taste, scent, and fat of cattle that had been deliberately fattened and confined solely for eating—he launched into a near-hymn of praise.
Iona, losing all track of time, began to alternate between rapturous descriptions of mammoth meat's flavor and sighs of regret. His powers of description were so vivid it was like food pornography translated into language.
The imagery was so clear that Karem couldn't snap out of it, and while Haifon looked increasingly awkward, Catherine finally stepped in, unable to watch any longer.
"Ahem, ahem! Elder Iona. Forgive the interruption in the midst of your disappointment, but—"
"Ah, Lord Atanitas. My apologies. I was so heartbroken I forgot myself."
"You said winter seems to be arriving a little early, so shall we move on?"
"Mm. It appears everything has been cleaned up. Let us be on our way."
Though not quite as much as Elder Iona, everyone in the procession except Karem—who had never tasted mammoth—made no effort to hide their disappointment.
It couldn't be helped. They had to content themselves with cutting off a little of the fur.
Once the cleanup was finished, the procession moved on past the mammoth, which still hung dead and bleeding in its ice chains.
Old though it was, a mammoth was still a creature that reigned as one of Iceland's apex predators.
Whether it was the blood and scent clinging to the procession or something else, the number of monster and beast attacks dropped to a mere handful compared to before.
Thanks to that, the journey could almost be called pleasant.
After several days of resupplying at villages and checkpoints belonging to other nobles' domains, they finally entered the Felwinter territory. As they continued onward, Sir Haifon once again knocked on the carriage window as before.
"We will arrive in Coldon shortly."
"Ohh. Good. Then I leave the rest to you until the end."
Reaching the Felwinter domain was not the end of the journey.
"Lord Atanitas. You said the Duke's castle was our destination, correct?"
Catherine, who had been focused on the endless stream of mysterious scrolls emerging from her cloak, merely nodded in affirmation.
"Hmm. Fortunately we should arrive before sundown. There it is."
Karem looked out the window.
Centered on a large, elongated castle that was clearly the ducal seat, the inner citadel alone was large enough to easily fit several Bordersters. The outer city looked several times wider still.
Beyond the walls encircling the outer city, a sprawling village stretched out like a spiderweb, abutting farmland whose harvest was finished and whose soil now lay bare.
If Borderster—the first place Karem had seen—had been a city (laughable), then the city before his eyes was large enough to qualify as a proper city even by modern standards.
And so the end of the cold journey drew near.
Karem had arrived in Coldon, capital of Iceland and the greatest city of the north.