Lucian woke up in the cold wilderness, his head spinning with dizzying pressure.
’What the hell, I was just...’
He couldn’t recall what he had been doing a moment before, only that he had suddenly appeared in the middle of a vast, frozen expanse.
"It’s cold," Lucian muttered.
Everywhere he looked, the world was buried beneath thick snow.
His first instinct was to seek out a human settlement, so he forced himself upright and began moving toward the dim, pale sun hanging low on the horizon.
Even after walking for nearly an hour, he found no footprints, no chimney smoke, and no signs of life.
’Will I die?’ Lucian thought, his chest tightening.
His body was numb with cold. Each heartbeat felt like an arduous, heavy task, and his lips were split and frozen. His fingers were already losing sensation, turning sickly shades of white and black from frostbite.
Step! Step! Thud!
Midway across an open drift, his knees gave out, and he collapsed face-first into the snow as the surrounding blizzard intensified.
"Haa... haa..."
He struggled for breath in the thin mountain air.
Shivering violently, Lucian curled into a tight fetal ball on the frozen ground, trying desperately to trap whatever warmth remained in his chest.
An unknown amount of time passed before muffled voices cut through the howling wind.
Two figures wrapped in thick beast hides approached his fallen form.
"So this is the man you saw, Yan."
A young boy, barely ten years old, nodded eagerly at the woman’s words.
"Let’s take him to the village for now..."
***
The next time Lucian opened his eyes, he was lying inside a small, warm house. An elderly woman with kind, wrinkled eyes was sitting beside his bed.
"You woke up, child, eat this. You have such a pretty face, what’s your name?"
The old woman passed him a small wooden bowl filled with steaming porridge.
Lucian took it with trembling, bandaged hands, wasting no time. He was hungry and desperately needed food.
"Lucian," he replied between bites.
The old woman nodded lightly, smiling at his appetite.
"Lu Shen, that’s a nice name. You can call me Granny Meng. You should thank that kid Yan sometime later. If not for his mischief of running without informing others, he wouldn’t have found you. And Mei wouldn’t have brought you here."
Lucian nodded earnestly, swallowing the warm broth.
Just then, the wooden door pushed open, and two people stepped inside out of the cold. One was a sharp-eyed young woman nearing her twenties, and the other was the young boy from the snow.
"Speak of the devils. That is the Chief’s kid I mentioned, Yan, and that girl along with him is the Hunter’s daughter, Mei."
"Granny, I told you to just call me Hunter!" Mei complained, shaking snow from her shoulders before looking toward the bed.
"Thank you," Lucian said, bowing his head respectfully toward the duo.
"There’s no need to do such things, we are nearly the same age!" Mei waved her hand dismissively, while the boy, Yan, bowed back with quiet politeness.
"Do you feel better now? Let me introduce you to the others..." Granny Meng continued warmly.
Just like that, Lucian’s—or rather, Lu Shen’s—quiet days began in the remote settlement of the North Mountains.
***
Two Months Later...
Lucian crouched low behind a snow-covered boulder, as he waited for his prey to step into view. Through his training as a village hunter, he had developed deep, steady patience.
The moment a large white horned sheep appeared in his view, Lucian rose smoothly and sent his spear flying.
THWACK!
The iron point embedded deep into the sheep’s belly.
Drip! Drip!
Dark red blood dripped onto the snow as the animal collapsed, its white coat stained crimson.
"Great aim, Shen." A deep voice boomed from behind the brush.
"You definitely have talent. And in just two months, you are a hunter comparable to my daughter," the large man laughed, giving Lucian a heavy pat on the back.
"Uncle, it’s Lucian..." Lucian tried to correct him, before letting out a helpless sigh.
The burly man was Han, the village’s veteran hunter and Mei’s father. Over the past two months, he and Mei had taught Lucian how to track, butcher, and survive in the harsh terrain.
Hauling the carcass between them, Lucian and Uncle Han made their way back to the settlement.
The village was tiny, home to only seventeen people in total. Aside from Lucian, Mei, and Yan, everyone else was either middle-aged or elderly.
Because of the exceptionally harsh winter this year, the grain cellar was nearly empty. Uncle Han was also having a hard time trading his furs at the lowlands, as a recent animal plague in the northwest had caused its market value to plummet.
With the grain cellar nearly empty, the villagers had been eating only once a day.
"Everyone! Today’s food has arrived!" Lucian shouted.
Doors creaked open, and the villagers emerged into the snowy clearing, smiling as they gathered around the prize.
"Let’s have a feast today then," Granny Meng suggested warmly, and the small crowd erupted into cheerful shouts.
Standing nearby, Village Chief Xiao watched the celebration with a quiet, worried sigh.
Lucian scanned the gathering and frowned.
"Granny, where’s Yan and Mei?"
Chief Xiao answered before she could speak.
"They also went to hunt. Especially that little girl, it seems she was jealous you surpassed her so quickly, not to mention she was also akin to your teacher."
Uncle Han chuckled and shook his head. His daughter had rarely faced competition, and having a newcomer outmatch her so quickly had wounded her pride.
"I will look for them," Lucian said, setting down his skinning knife and heading east.
He knew the ridge they frequented—the very place where Yan had discovered him half-frozen two months prior.
Jogging lightly, Lucian called their names.
"Mei! Yan!"
He searched along the frozen gully for nearly twenty minutes before spotting tracks. Rounding an outcrop, he found the two of them, and his expression instantly turned serious.
"Mei! What happened?!"
"SHEN! Yan’s body suddenly began to heat up, and not only that, we also saw a huge snake!" Mei cried out, her hands shaking as she tended to the boy on the snow.
Lucian knelt down and pressed his palm to Yan’s forehead. The boy was burning up with a terrifying, unnatural fever.
Without wasting a second, Lucian scooped Yan into his arms, and the three hurried back to the settlement.
The village elders gathered inside Chief Xiao’s hut, their expressions growing grim as they examined the shivering child.
"We need to take him to a doctor in the next village," Chief Xiao said with grave seriousness seeing his son’s condition, and even Granny Meng nodded solemnly.
"And I will make preparations for catching the large snake," Uncle Han stated grimly, fetching his heavy spear and calling five able-bodied men to assemble.
Lucian fetched his belongings, ready to carry the boy across the mountain pass to where the nearest physician lived.
"I will go too!" Mei insisted, stepping forward.
"This is no time for your stubbornness, go help Uncle and fetch the supplies!" Lucian said in a sharp voice.
Mei looked at him with resentful, tear-rimmed eyes, before stomping her foot and running to join her father’s party.
Lucian adjusted the straps around Yan’s small body.
"Don’t worry, Yan, your big brother will make sure you are cured by today," he whispered gently.
Under normal conditions, walking between the two villages took an entire day. But by using an overgrown mountain shortcut, Lucian knew he could make the crossing in half that time.
"I will be back soon," Lucian called out to the elders as he stepped onto the path, completely unaware of the horror waiting at the end of the road.
Lucian pushed through knee-deep drifts with Yan secured against his back beneath a thick fur blanket.
His lungs burned from the biting frost.
"Hey, Yan, we are taking a shortcut so you can get better quickly..." Lucian kept up a steady stream of chatter, trying to keep the boy conscious.
Yan’s father, Chief Xiao’s warning, echoed in his ears—the fever was severe, and the boy was slipping fast.
’Just how could a sudden cold be this dangerous?’
Lucian felt pure panic tightening in his chest.
Over the past two months, the mute boy had shadowed his every step like an adoring younger brother, giving him an unknown sense of nostalgia.
Halfway across the ridge, dread settled over Lucian. He reached behind him to check the boy’s neck.
"Hey, don’t sleep!"
Lucian slipped the harness off and laid Yan beneath the shelter of a bare pine, his heart leaping into his throat.
The boy’s skin was turning cold.
"No, no, no, Yan, keep your eyes open!"
Lucian rubbed the boy’s pale cheeks with his rough palms. Yan’s eyelids fluttered, drooping heavily.
’Why is this happening? Everything was just going fine?!’
"Look, Yan, we will play a lot from now on. You remember the new game I talked about... hey, don’t die, Yan!"
Lucian bit his lip until blood welled up.
As if sensing his time was up, tears gathered in the corners of Yan’s unfocused eyes.
Gathering the last shred of his strength, the young boy opened his eyes wide, lifting his small fingers to press against Lucian’s chest—as if pleading with him never to forget him.
"NOOOO–!"
Lucian screamed, begging for this to be a nightmare.
In the next moment, Yan’s eyes slid shut, his small chest settling into permanent stillness.
Lucian knelt in the snow for fifteen minutes in complete denial, watching the child’s body grow stiffer and colder.
Slowly, wiping the tears from his cheeks, the truth settled in.
’Just a cold! Just a fucking cold?!’
Lucian slammed his bare fist into the frozen earth. The pain was sharp, but it didn’t dull the suffocating ache in his chest.
Suppressing his grief, he wrapped Yan’s body back into the hides. The boy deserved a proper burial among his people.
Lifting the small bundle, Lucian turned back toward the village. But as he climbed the final ridge, a sickly stench drifted on the wind.
’...Blood?’
Lucian broke into a desperate run. The village had no defensive walls; it was too remote for anyone to ever bother raiding.
He burst through the boundary fence, and the silence made his blood run cold.
Stepping into the first hut, he found the elderly woodcutter slumped forward in his wooden chair, completely lifeless.
Lucian’s eyes widened, his gaze turning dark. He set Yan’s body down gently behind the door, picked up the woodcutter’s heavy iron axe, and moved through the settlement house by house.
It was a graveyard.
Aside from three untouched cottages, every villager was dead where they lay. Deep purple bruises marked their throats; they had been strangled in cold blood.
Lucian reached Chief Xiao’s house, where the smell of slaughter was overwhelming.
Pushing the door open, his breath caught in his throat.
Three rough, muscular men lay dead on the floor alongside Chief Xiao, whose chest was pierced by a crude iron broadsword.
In the corner chair, Granny Meng’s headless body sat upright, while the village blacksmith lay curled by the hearth, dead from massive blood loss.
"S-Shen..." a faint, trembling voice whispered from behind an overturned table.
Lucian dropped the axe with a clatter and fell to his knees beside Mei. She was pale as snow, bleeding heavily from her torso, and her left arm was missing entirely.
"Mei... j-just what... didn’t you go with uncle?"
Lucian cradled her head in his lap, his voice breaking as she offered him a faint, bloody smile.
"I... p-protected the village, Shen..." Mei whispered, weakly lifting her remaining hand to touch his cheek.
"No, you idiot, you...!"
"Do you have the Ice Lotus I gave you?" Mei asked softly, tears spilling across her pale skin.
Lucian could only grit his teeth, nodding weakly.
"Y-You know I l-love you... because you have a pretty face?" Mei joked weakly, her voice growing thinner by the second.
"Hahaha... of course..."
Lucian let out a choked, ragged laugh. His sanity felt stretched to the absolute breaking point, laughing and weeping all at once at her confession.
"I am... sorry for... leaving you... I had a lot of dreams... but I guess even the heavens envied... my happiness."
Mei’s hand slipped from his cheek, falling limp. Her eyes closed one last time.
Lucian sat in the ruined room, his hands soaked in her cooling blood, clutching her body to his chest and sobbing until his throat felt dry.
She had just been an ordinary village hunter. She hunted for her elders, worked with her hands, and dreamed of marrying a handsome young man like him. Yet the world had stolen even that simple life away.
"Ugh... haa..."
Lucian wiped his face, but after a moment, no more tears would come.
His eyes turned red. He stood up, grabbed the woodcutter’s heavy axe, and walked over to the three dead raiders.
CUT! CUT! CUT!
He brought the iron blade down again and again, hacking into the skulls and torsos of the murderers with manic, rhythmic fury. He didn’t stop until his arms were shaking with exhaustion and the corpses on the floor were reduced to an unrecognizable lump of meat.
"AHHHHHHHHH–!"
Lucian screamed at the ceiling until his voice shattered.
There was no one left alive.
What could he say to Uncle Han? What could he say to the hunters who had gone into the mountains? How could he tell them their home was slaughtered by bandits while their youngest died of an ordinary fever?
Who was responsible for this cruelty?
Was it the gods watching from the high heavens? The demons feeding on mortal despair? Or the lofty immortals who turned their backs on the world?
WHO?!
Breathing heavily, Lucian wiped the blood from his brow.
He began dragging the bodies of his neighbors into the central hall, laying them side by side. He went to the tailor’s workshop, finding coarse thread and a bone needle.
With shaking hands, he sat beside Granny Meng’s chair, painstakingly sewing the old woman’s severed head back onto her shoulders so she could rest whole.
A faint scuffling sound outside caught his ears.
Lucian gripped his axe and rushed through the doorway, his eyes bloodshot. Stumbling down the snowy lane was a blackened, staggering figure crawling on hands and knees through pure willpower.
"UNCLE!"
Lucian sprinted forward as the dying man looked up desperately toward their village.
"Shen’er?" Han replied, his vision cloudy.
Had his sight been clear, he would have been terrified. Lucian was drenched in drying blood, his eyes hollow and manic, looking like a demon clawing out of the earth.
"Everyone else died..." Han choked, coughing dark venom.
"The beast... though it looked normal, it was a spirit beast... at the cost of the men, we fended it off... only I survived... no, I am already dead..."
Black poison veins were spreading across Han’s neck and face.
"Lu Shen, promise me just one thing... you will take good care of Mei."
"..."
Lucian closed his eyes, his heart tearing apart in silence.
"...Yes, I will."
"Haha! You better do it, otherwise I will haunt you from the afterlife!"
The moment the words left his lips, Han’s lingering will broke. Black poison surged through his heart, turning his eyes completely dark. Yet a faint, peaceful smile remained fixed upon his face as he slumped into the snow.
Lucian didn’t have the courage to tell him that Mei was already gone.
He lifted Uncle Han onto his shoulders and carried him into the hall beside the others.
Without resting, Lucian hiked up to the mountain ridge where the hunt had taken place. He gathered the bodies of the other fallen hunters, thankful that the wounded spirit beast had fled without devouring them, and carried them back down one by one.
By midnight, he had washed every villager’s face, mended their severed limbs, and stitched their torn flesh.
In the center of the clearing, he laid them out in an orderly row upon a bed of dry timber, surrounding their pyre with small wooden figures carved by the woodcutter.
He honored their customs.
He sprinkled coarse salt around their perimeters to ward off wandering spirits and placed a cherished possession into each of their cold hands so they would remember who they were in their afterlife.
He walked to the small hut he had built with their help, retrieving a tiny, potted Ice Lotus.
Walking back, he laid the pale blossom gently between Mei’s fingers.
Drawing his skinning knife, Lucian cut his own palm, letting thick ribbons of blood rain down upon the dry wood and bodies.
"HEAVENS ABOVE!" Lucian roared into the empty, freezing night, thrusting a blazing torch.
"I am a grandson to my grandmother, a nephew to my Uncle, a big brother to my younger brother, a lover to my lover, and above all, I am Lucian, the kin of all these people! Like the spark of happiness you bestowed upon them, I offer you my blood in return for their safe and happy journey to the afterlife!"
WHOOSH!
The pyre erupted into a roaring pillar of golden flame, casting long, dancing shadows across the snowy abandoned village.
Lucian stood motionless in the heat, watching the smoke carry his family up into the starry sky.
A mortal life was so fragile that a sudden fever, an icy wind, or a passing bandit could snuff it out in an instant. Yet in the short time he had lived among them, their warmth had been real.
Everyone he knew in this world was gone.
He was left behind, drowning in a debt of love he could never repay.
Watching the embers rise toward the heavens, Lucian let out a ragged breath, his soul heavy with grief, but he was determined to live the life they had granted him.
He did not know where this life would take him, but he knew one thing.
Once this fragile life was over...
"Let’s meet again, everyone... in the afterlife you believe."