The County of Anse. The entrance to the Frost Mountains.

Sevha and Teresse were ascending a snow-covered ridge, some distance from the northern Great Road.

“Haah…”

The Frost Mountains were one of the continent’s Eight Demonic Realms.

Teresse, unaccustomed to such places, panted ceaselessly. In contrast, Sevha walked steadily despite his injuries, as if the Demonic Realm were his home.

“Haah… haah…”

With every step, Teresse’s panting grew more severe.

But Sevha never offered to rest. He just kept walking, never once glancing back at her.

Teresse glared at his back with resentment, then let out a sudden, playful cry.

“Aahn!”

The sound made Sevha whip around.

Though her face was etched with exhaustion, Teresse wore the triumphant grin of an angler who had just landed a prize catch.

“Did that get your attention?”

“If you have the energy for games, you have the energy to walk faster.”

“I don’t. That was just enough magic for a little spell. The kind that makes a man turn around and want to help.”

Teresse gave a shameless wink.

But Sevha turned away again, his coldness making it clear he was in no mood for jokes.

Seeing that he had no intention of helping, Teresse sighed and tried to follow. But her first step sent her slipping, and she planted her face in the snow.

“Seriously...!” Sevha glanced back, annoyed.

Teresse was flailing, her face buried in a snowdrift. The sight instantly reminded him of another woman, for whom clumsiness was a daily affair.

He deliberately shouted to banish her lingering image.

“What a master of seduction! Flopping around like a fish in heat, begging to be devoured!”

Teresse pulled her face from the snow. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment from the fall, but she still offered an excuse.

“It worked! This is the great magic that compels you to help—!”

Before she could finish her talk of magic, Sevha hoisted her onto his back.

“Aah!”

He ignored her shriek, gripping her thighs firmly as he resumed his ascent. 

Teresse’s eyes darted around, flustered by the contact. She said weakly, “I think my magic worked a little too well on you. Is your resistance to it always this low?”

“Shut up.”

Seeing that he was not embarrassed but hostile, Teresse pouted. Her face now a deeper shade of red, she muttered, “I’m supposed to be a lady, you know...”

Sevha ignored her and lost himself in thought.

This strange woman… Can I really escape Anse with this self-proclaimed magus?

Before they had begun their climb, Teresse had summed up the situation in Anse. The Imperial Army was searching for his corpse.

So we have no choice but to flee north, where there are no enemies. But still…

Sevha reviewed the situation, then glanced at the woman on his back.

“Strange woman.”

“It’s Teresse.”

“Self-proclaimed magus.”

“If you’d rather die than say my name, then why don’t you?”

Sevha ignored her sarcasm and asked, “How do you plan to get through the Frost Mountains?”

Teresse scoffed as if the answer were obvious. “We just have to pass through the Great Underground Road, don’t we?”

Sevha immediately tossed her to the ground.

Teresse pulled her face out of the snow again and snapped, “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Sevha shouted back with equal force. “You wanted to cross the Frost Mountains without knowing the truth about the Northern Great Road? You idiot!”

“The truth? Wasn’t the Great Underground Road just sealed off because of a risk of collapse? Given the circumstances, we can take the risk and—”

Sevha cut her off, kicking snow over her. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Words weren’t enough. Sevha lifted Teresse into his arms, climbed a nearby hill, and pointed toward the middle of the mountain range.

“Look.”

Where Sevha pointed, a fortress stood, one of its faces a cliff shaped like a hawk’s beak.

It was the Beak Fortress, which guarded the northern Great Road. Aside from the absence of a tower, its structure was similar to the Right Wing Fortress.

But there was something peculiar on the cliff face. A massive iron gate, bolted with dozens of crossbars.

“Why is the gate to the Great Underground Road barred so heavily…?” Teresse’s words trailed off as she studied the fortress.

There was something on the ramparts. Figures that resembled people, but lacked the flesh, limbs, or vitality of the living.

Walking corpses. Undead.

Teresse was shocked to see them on the fortress walls. But the shock quickly faded, replaced by a sharp, intrigued glint in her eyes.

“The clothes on those undead… they belong to the Hunters of Anse, don’t they? So the road wasn’t closed due to a risk of collapse?”

“Correct. If the truth got out, the Papal See might suspect the Dan Anse family was incapable of managing the Great Road. So a false reason was given.”

“And everyone on the other side believed that lie… Anyway, what is the truth?”

Sevha recalled the truth of the northern Great Road.

The tragedy of ten years past.

“We were defeated by the undead.”

When the Holy Empire created the Great Road through the Frost Mountains, they did not build a path over them. They built a massive underground road that pierced straight through them.

That was the Great Underground Road.

“For reasons unknown, undead have always appeared there from time to time. But ten years ago… a large section in the middle of the road collapsed, and a massive horde of undead poured out.”

The undead swathed the Great Underground Road in death in half a day.

Within a full day, they had decimated the Beak Fortress.

“It is common knowledge that those killed by the undead become undead.”

The travelers on the road, the Hunters and conscripts of the Beak Fortress—all of them swelled the undead ranks to two thousand within a day.

Sevha’s father, the Count at the time, made a swift decision before the plague of death could descend from the mountains. He would lure the escaped undead back into the Great Underground Road and seal it shut.

“My father’s plan succeeded. He lured the majority of the undead back inside, then sealed the gate.”

“Your father… he died, didn’t he?”

“It’s unlikely he’s been living with the undead for the last ten years.”

Sevha thought of his father’s funeral, held without a body. The memory was only bitter, so he changed the subject.

“In any case, it’s impossible to pass through the Great Underground Road.”

“I suppose so.”

“It’s not a matter of ‘I suppose so’!”

Sevha watched Teresse with deep suspicion. If she proved useless, he would have no choice but to abandon her.

Teresse seemed to sense his calculation, but she showed no panic, no hesitation. She spoke with grim purpose.

“If we cannot pass through the Great Underground Road, then we must go over the mountains. We must cross them. Only then will your… our fate change.”

To Sevha, her words sounded like a proposal for joint suicide.

But he did not argue. The childish air about her had vanished, replaced by the gravitas of a prophet in her eyes, her voice, her expression. It was as if a miracle truly awaited them beyond the peaks, as if their destiny would indeed be changed.

“Why are you so obsessed with what’s beyond the mountains? All that’s over there is…”

As Sevha tried to recall what lay on the other side, a faint crunch of footsteps on snow reached them from a distance.

Without looking, Sevha placed a hand on the knife at his waist.

Seeing his movement, Teresse realized something was near and got to her feet.

“Hunter. I am no good in a fight.”

“I don’t know what you are good for.”

“I hope the day I can show you comes soon.”

“Same… here!”

As he spoke, Sevha spun around and sprinted toward a large boulder behind them. 

He moved like a beast across the snow, reaching the rock in an instant. He vaulted over it and tackled someone hiding on the other side.

He raised his knife to plunge it into their throat, but froze when he saw who it was, his expression turning to shock.

“You are...?”

It was a boy, perhaps thirteen or fourteen years old.

Sevha was unwillingly reminded of the children playing in Anse Castle. The thought drained the strength from his arms, and the boy shoved him off. He scrambled backward, then drew a knife and pulled out a scarf.

“I-I-I don’t know who you are, but I am a Hunter of Anse! I will show you the power of Legra!”

“A Hunter of Anse?” Sevha studied the boy’s face, but he did not recognize him. “You claim to be a Hunter of Anse?”

“Don’t mock me! What do you know about the Hunters of Anse—?!”

Before the boy could finish, Sevha introduced himself. “Sevha dan Anse.”

“Huh?” The boy faltered. He stared at Sevha’s face, and a cold sweat broke out on his brow. 

He threw his knife to the ground and immediately prostrated himself.

“Gray hair! Golden eyes! You are the First Hunter, Lord Sevha! My father told me about you! I’m sorry! Please forgive me!”

As the boy groveled, Teresse sidled up to Sevha and asked quietly, “Hunter? Just how cruel are you to your people that a child acts like this?”

“That’s a slanderous accusation.”

The County of Anse had few class distinctions. Sevha didn’t understand why the boy was being so subservient.

He soon found out why.

“I am Legra, grandson of the Previous First Hunter.”

Hearing this, Sevha’s face hardened. “So you’re the grandson of The Wing-Clipped Hawk...”

Legra’s face immediately froze. “I-I’m sorry. My grandfather...”

Teresse sensed the strange tension between them.

As if to change the mood, she ran to Legra and hugged him, exclaiming, “How cute! You’re like a little mouse I once had!”

“A mouse?! Don’t look down on me! I am a hawk of Anse! Who are you to mock me?!”

“I’m a magus.”

“A m-magus? A-a witch! Lord Sevha! A witch has appeared!”

Seeing how earnestly the boy took her words, Teresse laughed brightly. “You really are cute! But aren’t your clothes too thin? Aren’t you cold?”

“A Hunter of Anse yields not to such chill!”

“Not yielding just means you’re still cold!”

“H-How did you know? She really is a witch!”

Watching the foolish exchange, Sevha sighed. “Legra.”

“Witch, witch…! Yes?”

“Where do you live?”

Half a day later, Sevha sat inside a shabby hut midway up the mountain.

He gazed at the night sky through a window patched with wooden planks, then turned his head.

In the modest single room—one bed, one table, one hearth—Legra was stirring a pot of porridge. Teresse stood beside him, stroking his head as if he were a prodigy.

“You’re so young, but you cook so well.”

“What does a witch know about cooking?”

“Witches use cauldrons all the time.”

“Oh, is that so?”

Sevha had been listening to their endless, idiotic conversation since they arrived. 

Finally, he began, “Legra.”

“Yes, Lord Sevha.”

“Your family...”

“My father was killed by a monster, my mother went hunting and never came back, and my sister and younger brother died from a cold.”

Like a true member of the Anse Tribe, Legra recited his family’s deaths matter-of-factly, but his expression held the faint sadness of a child.

Teresse gently pulled him into an embrace, saying, “Sevha. Try to be a little kinder to him.”

Hearing her blame him, Legra hurriedly spoke up. “Witch! Don’t bother Lord Sevha! It’s only natural that he’s cold to me!”

“Natural?”

“Because my grandfather is The Wing-Clipped Hawk!”

Teresse looked at Sevha, a question in her eyes.

Sevha told her the story. “Legra’s grandfather, the Previous First Hunter, deserted ten years ago.”

“Deserted?”

“Originally, it was his duty to lure the undead back into the Great Underground Road, not my father’s. But he fled and was never seen again.”

The people of Anse despised Legra’s grandfather for abandoning the responsibility of the First Hunter. Their hatred extended to his entire family.

“So Legra’s family moved into the mountains, vowing not to come down until they hunted the deserter.”

“And in the end, everyone but Legra… Legra? Why are you still living in the mountains if your family is gone?”

Legra answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Even if my family is dead, my clan’s oath doesn’t disappear. I will not descend from these mountains until I find my grandfather and hunt him.”

Hearing this, Teresse looked at Sevha with cold, reproachful eyes. Her voice was even colder than her gaze. “Collective punishment on top of a foolish oath. I think I understand why the people of the Empire call the Anse Tribe savages.”

Sevha, agreeing with her to some extent, did not get angry. He replied calmly, “My brother also believed Legra’s family had done nothing wrong and didn’t need to go into the mountains. But he couldn’t change their minds.”

“What are you saying?! My family’s oath was the natural duty of any member of the Anse Tribe!”

Teresse said, “Is that so? Then you can stop now. Anse is no more.”

“What? Witch, what are you talking about?”

She explained to the boy that Anse had fallen.

“R-Really?”

Silence fell. It brought no dramatic change, so Sevha returned to the problem at hand.

“Magus. Do we really have to cross the mountains? We could hide here until things in Anse settle down, then slip away.”

“No. There’s no time.”

“Time?”

Teresse hesitated, then spoke with gravity. “The opportunity on the other side of the mountains… something has happened to it. If we don’t hurry, we might lose it.”

Her words made Sevha recall what lay beyond the peaks. He now had a rough idea of her scheme.

“I wonder if a man I’ve never even met will take me in...”

Sevha gazed out the window at the mountain peaks that seemed to touch the night sky.

He finished his thought.

“But with no other options, what choice do I have?”

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