The snowstorms of the Borealis Continent knew no mercy.
In the northern territories, where the House of Silver stood, winter never truly ended.
Vast expanses of snow blanketed the land throughout the year, while freezing winds swept across the open plains and the towering mountains in the distance.
To the people of other regions, snow might signify the changing of the seasons.
To the people of Borealis, snow was a part of life they could never escape.
The farther north one traveled, the more ruthlessly nature bared its fangs.
Blizzards could swallow roads within minutes.
Extreme temperatures could freeze water supplies, cripple mounts, and turn even a meticulously planned journey into a desperate struggle for survival.
Here, even the smallest mistake could lead to death.
Yet that morning, activity at Silver Fortress proceeded as usual.
By direct decree of the royal palace, Duke Richard and his immediate family were required to attend the celebration of King Gyo’s daughter’s tenth birthday, which would also mark her engagement, in Gimle, the kingdom’s capital.
Such an invitation was far more than a mere formality.
Among noble houses, one’s presence could be interpreted as a declaration of support, while one’s absence might be regarded as an act of defiance.
Duke Richard had no intention of giving anyone a reason to question the loyalty of the House of Silver.
Therefore, the expedition departed with every necessary precaution in place.
Six carriages left the fortress under the protection of a handpicked escort of knights.
The first carriage, an armored family coach, carried the duke’s immediate family.
The next two transported provisions and luggage, while three simpler carriages carried the servants and their travel necessities.
The draft horses had been selected for their ability to endure extreme weather.
The carriage wheels had been reinforced to prevent them from breaking on ice-covered roads, while mana stones embedded in the cabins helped maintain a comfortable temperature inside.
At the head of the procession, the banner of the House of Silver fluttered in the wind.
The emblem of the horned wolf occasionally vanished behind curtains of swirling snow, only to reappear whenever the gusts subsided.
For generations, that emblem had borne witness to the Silver family’s struggles against monsters, the relentless winter, and rivals who coveted their northern domain.
That morning, the same banner was making its way toward the kingdom’s capital.
Unaware that someone might be waiting for them somewhere along the road.
Inside the main carriage, Aiden von Silver sat on his mother’s lap.
He was barely over two years old.
A thick fur coat enveloped his small body, while the warmth radiating from the mana stones embedded in the cabin walls made the bitter cold outside seem distant.
Beside Duchess Freya, eight-year-old Elena slept with her head resting against the padded seat.
Occasionally, the carriage jolted as its wheels rolled over uneven ground.
The little girl would frown in her sleep before drifting off again.
Aiden, however, was busy observing the scenery beyond the window.
Ice-covered fir trees stood like dark silhouettes against the endless white landscape.
Snow mist drifted low between their trunks, causing visibility to change from one moment to the next.
For a child his age, such a long journey should have been tedious.
Yet the consciousness behind those sapphire eyes held experiences far beyond what his tiny body would suggest.
In his previous life, he had been Leo, a veteran who had spent decades in the world of Pantheon: Twenty-One Worlds Online.
He was accustomed to situations that demanded patience, keen observation, and decisions made without complete information.
He had witnessed far too many occasions when something seemingly insignificant turned out to carry serious consequences.
However, experience was not the same as omniscience.
This world was different from the one he had once known.
His body was still far too small, his knowledge of the local power systems remained insufficient, and he lacked the ability to test every hypothesis that crossed his mind.
For now, all he could do was observe.
Remember.
And distinguish facts from possibilities.
Seven days, if the weather remained favorable.
His gaze followed the line of trees slowly passing beyond the window.
The journey to Gimle usually took around seven days.
However, that estimate held true only as long as the roads remained passable and no blizzard forced the procession to halt.
In Borealis, travel time was never a promise.
It was an estimate.
And every estimate left room for failure.
Aiden shifted his gaze back into the cabin.
His mother sat calmly, occasionally checking Elena’s blanket or straightening the coat around her youngest son.
Everything appeared normal.
At least, as far as he could tell.
Aiden turned his attention back to the window.
For now, he had no reason to suspect anything.
And he had no intention of creating danger simply because his mind was accustomed to considering the worst possible outcomes.
At the head of the procession, Edward von Silver rode a pitch-black warhorse.
At eighteen, Duke Richard’s eldest son was already accustomed to the harsh realities of life on the frontier.
He wore armor beneath a thick cloak, with a sword hanging at his waist and leather gloves protecting his fingers from the freezing air.
The wind stung his face.
Snowflakes clung to his horse’s dark coat, while white clouds of breath escaped the animal’s nostrils with every exhalation.
Edward did not complain.
His eyes continuously swept across the road ahead before shifting toward the trees on either side.
He checked the spacing between the carriages, assessed the condition of the road, and occasionally glanced backward to ensure the escort was maintaining its formation.
Nothing stood out.
There were no obviously suspicious movements.
Yet the farther they traveled from populated areas, the greater the responsibility resting on his shoulders became.
To his right, Sir Raymond Vane rode another warhorse.
The man was large and powerfully built.
Black steel armor encased his body, while a thick brown cloak protected the exposed portions from the biting wind.
A massive warhammer hung across his back.
The weapon was so enormous that, at first glance, carrying it on a journey seemed impractical.
However, no one who knew Raymond would consider it a useless burden.
He was Duke Richard’s right-hand man and one of the strongest knights in the House of Silver.
An advanced Aura Master.
Under certain circumstances, his combat prowess could even rival Duke Richard’s.
Despite that, Raymond hardly looked like a knight who was constantly on edge.
Every so often, he made a brief remark about the weather or the road conditions, as though traveling through a blizzard were nothing more than a routine task with a few minor inconveniences.
That was, until Edward suddenly tightened his reins.
His horse slowed.
Raymond turned toward him.
“What’s wrong?”
Edward did not answer immediately.
His gaze was fixed on the edge of the road, precisely between two fir trees whose trunks were coated in ice.
Something was amiss.
Several branches had been broken near ground level.
The snow around them formed irregular depressions, while faint tracks could be seen between the trees, partially obscured by freshly fallen snow.
The wind could erase tracks.
But it could not explain everything.
Edward leaned slightly to one side, trying to get a clearer look without leaving his saddle.
“Sir Raymond.”
His tone had changed.
Raymond followed his gaze.
The faint smile that had lingered on his face gradually disappeared.
“Footprints?”
“Some of them. And they look fresh.”
Raymond narrowed his eyes.
“Monsters?”
“Possibly.”
“Bandits?”
“Possibly.”
Edward drew a short breath.
“Then don’t let our formation spread out. Have the guards on the right close ranks. Keep two men watching the rear.”
Raymond nodded, then raised one hand to signal the nearest knights.
The order was relayed down the procession.
The gaps between the guards narrowed.
Several knights repositioned themselves to close the spaces between the carriages, while two others began watching the trees on the left side of the road.
The changes were made without panic.
They were the escort of the House of Silver.
Preparing for potential threats was part of their duty.
Edward turned his attention back to the forest.
“If they’re ordinary bandits, they should have chosen a merchant caravan.”
Raymond snorted.
“Perhaps they’ve been hungry for so long that they’ve lost their minds.”
“In that case, they’ll regret it soon enough.”
Raymond gave a short laugh.
“At least we agree on that.”
A moment later, Edward heard a sound that was almost swallowed by the howling wind.
Crack.
It was neither the sound of carriage wheels nor a branch snapping under the weight of the snow.
He immediately turned his head.
A white bird burst from the branches of a fir tree, beating its wings in panic.
And behind it—
A shadow moved.
Then a second.
A third.
More and more shadows began appearing between the trees.
Edward straightened in his saddle.
“Enemies on both sides!”
His shout cut through the air.
“PROTECT THE CARRIAGES!”
Arrows shot out from the forest.
CLANG!
One struck a guard’s shield, while another embedded itself in the wood beside a supply carriage’s wheel.
Almost simultaneously, the attackers emerged from their hiding places.
Some charged between the trees, while others advanced from behind snow-covered bushes.
Their numbers continued to grow.
Ten.
Twenty.
Thirty.
When the final group emerged from behind the curtain of snow, Edward estimated that there were around forty of them.
Forty attackers.
A force large enough to cause chaos, even against a noble procession protected by trained knights.
Yet their numbers were not the only thing that caught Edward’s attention.
Their clothing was far from uniform.
Some wore shabby leather coats, others had pieces of old armor, while a few had wrapped their bodies in little more than thick scraps of cloth.
Their weapons were even more varied.
Longswords with worn blades, axes with mismatched handles, crude spears, short swords, and several weapons that appeared to have been fashioned from scrap metal.
Some weapons were well maintained, while others were in such poor condition that Edward doubted they could withstand repeated clashes.
At first glance, they looked like a group of outlaws living beyond the reach of the law.
However, Edward did not immediately conclude that they were bandits.
Poor and mismatched equipment could indicate poverty, but it did not explain why so many people had gathered together to attack an armed noble procession without warning.
Something was wrong.
He simply did not know what.
“Hold formation! Don’t let them reach the main carriage!”
The knights moved immediately.
Several took positions in front of the family carriage.
Others closed the gaps between the supply carriages and those carrying the servants.
The mounted guards spread out just enough to prevent the attackers from reaching the rear of the procession.
The first clash came seconds later.
CLANG!
Steel met steel.
A knight parried an axe aimed at his shoulder, then slammed his shield into his opponent’s chest.
Elsewhere, two guards worked together to bring down an attacker attempting to slip between the carriages.
Edward drew his sword and urged his horse toward the group breaking through from the front.
One man raised a spear.
Edward leaned to one side in his saddle.
CLANG!
His blade knocked the spearhead aside, then swept across before his opponent could regain his stance.
The man staggered and fell into the snow.
Edward did not pursue him.
Instead, he immediately wheeled his horse around to intercept two other attackers attempting to break through the defensive line.
“Don’t let them draw you out of formation!” he shouted.
“Protect the carriages first!”
The guards responded with action rather than words.
They continued to hold the line, but the enemy’s numbers steadily increased the pressure.
The attackers came from several directions at once, forcing the knights to divide their attention between protecting the carriages and defending themselves.
One attacker managed to slip through a narrow gap on the right.
He raised his axe and sprinted toward the main carriage.
However, before he could reach its wheel, a guard cut off his path.
Their weapons collided with a ringing clang, followed by a shield bash that sent the attacker stumbling backward.
Edward saw another group beginning to circle around the procession.
If the attack continued, the guards would be forced to fight at several points simultaneously.
That was when Raymond made his decision.
“Edward! Protect the carriages!”
Edward turned.
Raymond pulled on his reins, then leaped from his horse before the animal had fully stopped.
Both feet struck the packed snow.
THUD!
He reached for the massive warhammer on his back and drew it.
The weapon looked enormous in his hands, yet Raymond raised it without any apparent difficulty.
He moved away from the defensive line and into the open space in the middle of the road.
Then he shouted.
“HEY! ALL OF YOU!”
His voice thundered through the howling storm.
Several attackers turned toward him.
Raymond rested the warhammer against his shoulder and flashed a wide grin.
“If you’re here to rob us, you’ve picked the wrong target!”
He pointed his thumb at his own chest.
“I’M RIGHT HERE! COME AT ME TOGETHER!”
Several attackers exchanged glances, seemingly unsure whether the large man was mocking them or had genuinely lost his mind.
Raymond laughed loudly.
“What? Do you need a second invitation?”
He slammed the head of his warhammer against the road.
THUD!
The ice beneath the weapon cracked.
“LEAVE THE CARRIAGES AND FACE ME! OR ARE YOU TOO COWARDLY TO FIGHT A SINGLE MAN?”
The provocation worked.
“Kill him!”
“Take that bastard down!”
“Attack him together!”
Their anger overcame their caution.
The group that had been pressing against the guards began turning toward Raymond.
Attackers on either side of the road joined the charge, rushing toward him with their weapons raised.
One by one, they abandoned their original positions.
Dozens of men were now converging on a single target.
Sir Raymond Vane.
Edward immediately understood what the man was doing.
Raymond was deliberately drawing the enemy’s attention toward himself so the guards would no longer have to withstand attacks from multiple directions.
As long as the attackers focused on him, Edward and his men could defend all six carriages without constantly having to close newly exposed gaps.
“Don’t chase them!” Edward ordered the knights.
“Hold formation and protect the carriages!”
He glanced at Raymond again.
The man stood alone in the middle of the road, surrounded by dozens of armed opponents.
Yet he showed no sign of being under pressure.
If anything, his grin had grown even wider.
“Good,” he muttered.
“Now we can finish this.”
The attackers closed in from every direction.
Some raised swords.
Others brandished spears and axes, while several men in the rear searched for an opening that would allow them to strike simultaneously.
They were convinced that their numbers would give them the advantage.
They had no idea who they were facing.
Raymond was an advanced Aura Master.
The difference between him and the attackers was not merely a gap in combat experience.
It was a chasm of power that neither numbers nor courage could bridge.
Raymond adjusted his footing.
Both hands tightened around the warhammer’s handle.
Spirit Hardening flowed through his body, reinforcing his muscles and bones.
The same energy spread into his warhammer, strengthening the weapon so it could channel the destructive force he was about to unleash.
Then he focused his Spirit of Will.
This was not merely a threat meant to inspire fear.
The Spirit of Will was a manifestation of one’s willpower capable of striking directly at an opponent’s body and soul.
Raymond channeled it into the attack he was preparing.
The two powers converged.
Spirit Hardening amplified the physical destructive force of his strike.
The Spirit of Will accompanied the blow, spreading outward with the shockwave and striking anyone who lacked adequate defenses.
No dazzling light enveloped Raymond’s body.
No blazing aura appeared for everyone to see.
To attackers incapable of perceiving Spirit, he looked like nothing more than a large knight preparing to smash his weapon into the ground.
They had no idea what awaited them.
All they saw was their target.
“DIE!”
The attacker at the front charged with his sword raised.
Dozens of men behind him followed, closing in from different directions.
Swords, axes, spears, and crude weapons rose together.
Raymond lifted his warhammer.
Then he brought its massive head crashing down onto the ground.
BOOOOOOOOOM!
The hammer struck the road.
In an instant, the layer of ice beneath it shattered.
Cracks spread in every direction, branching across the road like a gigantic web.
Chunks of ice and clumps of snow erupted into the air as a devastating shockwave swept across the ground.
The air trembled.
The impact shook the forest.
The attackers at the front lost their footing almost simultaneously.
The shockwave lifted their bodies, hurled them backward, and sent them crashing hard into the snow.
Those a little farther away were not spared either.
Their bodies staggered, their feet left the ground, and their weapons flew from their hands.
Yet the shockwave was not the only force Raymond had unleashed.
Alongside the physical impact, the Spirit of Will surged outward through the attack.
The pressure swept over the attackers, striking their bodies and souls in a single wave.
For those without special defenses, courage alone was not enough to withstand it.
An attacker who had been thrown to the ground tried to stand.
“I can still—”
His sentence broke off.
His body suddenly doubled over.
He coughed violently, then vomited blood onto the snow.
Pain gripped him from within.
His breathing became ragged, and his hand trembled as he tried to reach for the sword that had slipped from his grasp.
He was not merely frightened.
The Spirit pressure he had failed to withstand had injured him internally.
A few steps away, another attacker still clutched his spear.
He gritted his teeth and forced himself to remain standing, as though sheer determination could defy the force that had just struck him.
But the will to endure was not the same as the ability to withstand Spirit.
Blood trickled from his mouth.
The spear slipped from his hand.
He dropped to his knees, coughed several times, and then collapsed.
Elsewhere, several attackers lost consciousness before they could even understand what had happened.
Those with weaker constitutions could not withstand the combined effects of the physical impact and the Spirit of Will.
Some remained conscious, but their bodies could no longer obey their commands.
A few gasped for breath while clutching their chests.
Others crawled away with trembling hands, while several could only stare at Raymond with wide eyes.
The determination that had driven them to charge was no longer enough to make them fight.
It was not because Raymond had taken control of their minds.
Nor was it because he had simply instilled fear in them.
The attack had struck their bodies and souls directly.
The shockwave had knocked them down, while the Spirit of Will inflicted pressure they could not endure.
Those who failed to withstand it suffered the consequences in the form of internal injuries, coughing up blood, losing consciousness, or becoming incapable of continuing the fight.
Within seconds, the battle involving approximately forty attackers was over.
There had been no prolonged exchange of blows.
No pursuit was necessary.
Just one strike.
One shockwave carrying two Spirit powers at once.
And all the courage that had brought them onto that road crumbled before the might of an advanced Aura Master.
Raymond slowly lifted his warhammer from the cracked ground.
He brushed the snow from its head, then surveyed the attackers lying around him.
Some were unconscious.
Some were injured and coughing up blood.
The rest were still conscious, but not a single one dared to raise a weapon again.
Raymond rested the warhammer against his shoulder.
“Well?” he asked casually.
“Anyone else want to try?”
No one answered.
One conscious man immediately lowered his head.
Another tried to retreat using both hands, paying no attention to the weapon lying beside him.
Raymond snorted.
“Much better.”
He turned toward Edward.
“Are your carriages safe?”
Edward looked at the road littered with fallen bodies.
For a moment, he did not answer.
He had witnessed Raymond’s strength before.
Even so, watching an advanced Aura Master incapacitate approximately forty attackers with a single blow combining physical destruction and Spirit pressure left a lasting impression.
“As far as I can tell, yes,” Edward finally replied.
“Our guards are still holding. No one reached the main carriage.”
“Good.” Raymond shrugged.
“Then there’s no reason to linger here.”
Edward immediately turned his attention back to the guards.
“Check the condition of the entire procession! Make sure no one is seriously injured. Collect the attackers’ weapons and confirm that there are no other threats nearby!”
The knights immediately set to work.
They checked on their comrades, calmed the agitated horses, and ensured that all six carriages remained fit to travel.
Two mounted knights kept watch over the trees, while the others began collecting the scattered weapons.
Edward himself approached one of the attackers who was still conscious.
The man lay on his side in the snow.
His breathing was heavy, and blood stained the front of his clothes.
Whenever he tried to move, pain tightened his features.
Edward crouched in front of him.
“Who ordered you to attack this procession?”
The man struggled to raise his face.
For a moment, hesitation flickered in his eyes.
Edward noticed the change.
“Do you understand my question?”
The attacker clenched his jaw.
“We… were only doing a job.”
“Whose job?”
The man fell silent.
Edward stared at him without blinking.
“Forty armed men gather in the middle of a blizzard to attack a noble procession for no apparent reason. Who sent you?”
The attacker turned his face away.
“I don’t know.”
The answer came too quickly.
Edward did not respond at once.
He studied the man’s expression, trying to determine whether he was lying or genuinely had no idea who was behind the attack.
However, he had insufficient evidence to draw a conclusion.
Before Edward could continue questioning him, Raymond approached with his warhammer resting against his shoulder.
“If you expect them to start singing after a single question, you’re being too optimistic.”
Edward stood up.
“I just want to know who sent them.”
“And I want us to leave before the storm gets worse.”
Raymond glanced at the attackers lying along the road.
“Taking all of them prisoner isn’t a sensible decision. We have to protect the duke’s family, our supplies are limited, and the journey is still long. In their current condition, some of them wouldn’t even be able to sit on a horse.”
Edward frowned.
“Letting them go is risky, too.”
“That’s why we take their weapons.” Raymond shrugged.
“Those who can still walk can leave once we’ve made sure they no longer pose a threat to the procession. As for those too badly injured to move, we’ll do what we can without endangering the duke’s family.”
Raymond was not showing mercy.
He was making a decision based on the circumstances.
They were far from any town, in the middle of a dangerous, snow-covered region.
Taking dozens of prisoners would slow their journey, consume their supplies, and create additional risks for the family they were responsible for protecting.
Edward understood the reasoning, even if he did not entirely approve of the decision.
He looked at the attacker in front of him again.
“If you’re hiding something, remember that an attack against the House of Silver will not be treated as a trivial matter.”
The man did not answer.
Edward straightened and signaled the guards to disarm the attackers who remained conscious.
Their weapons were collected, while those capable of walking were ordered to move away from the procession’s route.
No one dared to resist the order.
They had seen what happened when someone tried to oppose Raymond with nothing but courage.
And they had no desire to suffer the same fate.
After confirming that no immediate threat remained, Edward returned to Raymond’s side.
“Do you think they were just bandits?”
Raymond brushed some snow from his shoulder.
“Their clothes were shabby, their weapons were mismatched, and they attacked a procession far stronger than themselves. They could have been desperate bandits.”
Edward glanced at the pile of weapons the guards had collected.
“That’s precisely what bothers me.”
Raymond turned toward him.
“What do you mean?”
“Their weapons.” Edward pointed toward several blades lying on the snow.
“Some look like old military weapons, others were crudely made, and a few are far too poorly crafted for serious combat. There’s no clear pattern.”
“Doesn’t that fit a group of bandits?”
“It could. But they attacked in large numbers, approached from both sides of the road, and immediately tried to break through our defenses.”
Edward paused for a moment.
“I can’t determine who they are yet. But I don’t want to dismiss them as ordinary bandits, either.”
Raymond fell silent briefly.
He did not dispute Edward’s observations.
The attack did have several peculiarities.
However, they had not found enough evidence to determine whether the attackers knew who was inside the main carriage or had simply spotted a large procession carrying valuable goods.
“We don’t know whether they recognized the House of Silver’s banner,” Raymond finally said.
“We don’t know whether someone ordered them to attack, either. Don’t build a conclusion before we have something reliable to support it.”
Edward nodded slowly.
“I understand.”
He turned toward the guards.
“Inspect the road ahead and make sure the carriages haven’t sustained any serious damage. We’ll continue as soon as everything is ready.”
The order was promptly relayed.
Several guards inspected the wheels and axles of the supply carriages.
Others checked the draft horses for injuries.
Once the inspection was complete, they returned to their assigned positions.
The procession began moving again.
The carriage wheels creaked over the frozen snow.
The guards tightened their formation, and two men continued watching the trees along the roadside in case of another attack.
Raymond mounted his horse again.
The massive warhammer hung across his back as though it had never been used.
Little by little, the traces of the battle behind them began to disappear.