'What's Approaching?'
Zaba rose from her desk chair, sensing the approach of something. Exited from her tent just as it fell before her.
"Thud."
"Boom."
The sword embedded itself in the ground, its flight's momentum dissipating—the soldier's sword.
"Is your master on the verge of death?" Zaba asked, her eyes fixed on the sword.
"Well done," she murmured, drawing a scarf from her sleeve. "You've arrived just in time."
She tossed the scarf, its surface etched with strange symbols, wrapping it tightly around the sword. Once secured, the symbols glow.
With finger, the sword rose floated beside her.
"It has begun."
The sudden howling of the wind rose, shaking the trees into a frenzied dance. Rocks rolled, and snowflakes drifted down with an exaggerated slowness.
The camp, recently established, was filled with tents, each surrounded by a glowing, transparent barrier. Zaba stepped through one of the barriers and paused for a moment, not parting the tent's curtain until permission came from inside.
"Appear," the uncle said. Zaba found him sitting cross-legged, his eyes shut in deep contemplation.
Unlike Zaba, the uncle had sensed the sword's arrival from afar, yet he dared not leave his tent.
The tent was warm, its silence so profound that anyone entering would feel utterly detached from the outside world.
"Uncle," Zaba said, placing the sword on the ground before him.
"At least we won't have to waste effort searching for his corpse," the uncle muttered. He extended his hand, exerting a force that caused the scarf to loosen, revealing the sword beneath. But as the uncle reached to grasp it, the sword merged the ground, leaving his hand empty.
Both sighed, their silence speaking about the soldier who had tried to lighten their burden until his final breath.
"If he'd hurried," the uncle remarked, annoyance evident in his tone.
"Uncle," Zaba said, "I don't understand why the Rat captured him in the first place."
"You think too much," the uncle replied, brushing off his sleeves. "What importance do the intentions of the dead hold, anyway?"
Shut his eyes again, signaling Zaba to leave.
As she exited, the uncle let out an inappropriate snort, his face turned into an ugly frown.
'Rat. It would have been better if you had let me catch you. Whatever I do won't amount to half of what one night in the mountain will do to you.'
Conflicted emotions churned within him. Should he rejoice at Vio's grim fate? Rage at his failure to extract information from him? Or feel irritated at the thought of finding his corpse in such a place? Despite their dominance, beasts in the mountains could devour his body alive, let alone dead.
And there was the matter of Vio slipping through their grasp repeatedly. This would soon make him a mockery among others.
'As punishment, once I figure out what aberrations you are, I'll make sure your corpse is shredded and fed to the beasts with my own hands.'
Zaba stepped outside, found the chaos she left behind doubled.
The wind had become deafening, the fog so thick that raising her hand rendered it invisible. Icy mounds returned to hinder movement, and the trees struggled to remain upright.
Zaba stood calmly, raising her head, gray eyes scanning the branches for something.
With graceful precision, she leaped once found what she sought—a seemingly impossible feat in the raging fog.
A violently swaying tree suddenly stilled as Zaba landed on one of its many branches.
"Found you," Zaba said, smiling as she removed her veil, revealing beautiful lips.
The owl, sensing her presence, opened its eyes but refrained from emerging. Hidden in a crevice of the tree, it fluffed its feathers to endure the mountain's bitter cold.
"I know you don't want to, and I won't pressure you."
She gently tied a message to one of the owl's legs.
"When you're ready, deliver this to the husband," she said with a soft smile, a small bubble creeping from the tip of her finger to the owl's forehead. The owl seemed to understand, and nodded.
As Zaba descended, the tree resumed its swaying.
She returned to her tent, which, unlike the others, had no protective barrier. The tent appeared as if it might be uprooted by the harsh weather, but all that vanished the moment Zaba stepped inside.
Back at her desk, resumed her work, immersing herself in reading the records she always carried.
'A strong and resilient body, capable of summoning the spirit of lightning, yet soulless. Unnatural flexibility.'
No matter how many times she recounted Vio's characteristics, she couldn't find any resemblance to any known creature. Even the records, which often mentioned legends, offered no clues.
It wasn't her nature to give up, especially when research was involved. Yet, conflicting emotions overcame her, prompting her to set everything aside. She leaned back, releasing a deep sigh.
'Husband left to fight him, expecting too much.'
In truth, it wasn't her husband's departure that troubled her. She knew him well—he craved something to break his boredom, to the point of setting high expectations for Vio, abandoning all logic.
'He won't survive, no matter what he is. Even the Snow elf and Al-Badriyyah couldn't.'
So why did she, too, hope he'd survive? Known for her rationality, particularly now that her husband was Vio's adversary, she knew he would return with the Rat's corpse in tow.
'Why do I want him to survive?'
She cut off her thoughts, justifying her feelings as mere fascination with the Rat's unnatural nature—a researcher's interest—and dismissed the matter as she prepared to sleep.
'I'll have to accompany the foolish uncle to retrieve the Rat's body, and then calm my husband's frustrations. There's so much to do.'
Far away, in a place no less chaotic, an even more insane scene unfolded.
Amid the howling winds, falling snow, and the cries of tortured trees, Hamim was there.
Had he been doing nothing, his presence might have seemed normal. But instead, the crazy man was doing push-ups with his bare chest on the snowy ground.
"1,234, 1,235, 1,236..."
Beads of sweat gathered on his skin, reaching their end and beginning to fall, only to transform into icy shards due to the fierce winds, shattering upon the ground.
The mountain neither saw nor cared about them. The winds and snowflakes ignored the couple, Hamim and Zaba, as if the chaos was of no concern.
Hamim continued his training, with one thought circling endlessly in his mind:
'If they went north, he will come here. If they went south, he will come here.'
He smiled and sped up his push-ups.
'Just survive this night. Don't let me down Rat.'
The uncle and others like him had already considered him as good as dead, while Hamim held onto a faint hope of survival. As for Zaba, for the first time in her life, her desires were unclear.
While everyone else was preoccupied with thoughts of his fate, Vio continued to struggle deep within the cave, where everything around him had turned into silent, frozen statues of ice.
Only the system remained functional.
[A drop in temperature has been detected.]
[All Hero Stats will decrease by 95%.]
[HP decreased: 40%]
[HP decreased: 35%]
[HP decreased: 30%]
[HP decreased: 25%]
[HP decreased: 10%]
[A drop in temperature has been detected. Excess energy is being allocated to heat the hero.]
[1EP will be consumed per hour.]
[Insufficient.]
[Increasing temperatures.]
[2EP will be consumed per hour.]
[Insufficient.]
[Increasing temperatures.]
[3EP will be consumed per hour.]
[The system can do no more.]
[The hero has entered partial hibernation.]
[Awaiting the hero's survival...]
While the system flooded Vio with messages, unheard by him, his mind began to delve into the folds of his past, clinging to the hope that his new body could endure.