Chapter Eight: War

After a brief silence fell over the tent, Snow Wolf spoke first: “I still stand by what I said before—those outsiders cannot be trusted. The spirit of the totem despises them. But if you choose to ally with them, I will support you with everything I have.”

“Hmph! Our tribe's numbers have dwindled to the brink of extinction. If we don’t change, we’ll be wiped out eventually. Do we really have a choice?” Snow Leopard dismissed Snow Wolf’s words with contempt.

At last, all eyes turned to Snow Tiger, granting him the final say. This was only fitting, for the Snow Tiger tribe was indisputably the strongest of all the clans.

Snow Tiger remained silent. Life for the tribes was indeed harsh, but the great clans still had room to survive—at least for a while longer. Yet, should they choose to ally with outsiders and wage war against humans, the slightest misstep could spell their utter annihilation.

“Snow Burial.” Suddenly, Snow Leopard uttered the words coldly.

Snow Tiger and Snow Wolf shuddered, their gazes turning complicated.

Snow Burial—a tradition among the tribes. For smaller clans struggling to survive, elders who had lost the strength to fight became a heavy burden. In such cases, they would choose to leave the tribe in their old age and bury themselves in the snow.

But somewhere along the way, Snow Burial became Blood Burial.

The legend goes that in a small tribe, an aged warrior who had lost his fighting ability left the clan alone on a stormy, snowy night to bury himself. For the tribesfolk, this was a common occurrence; the harshness of life had long numbed them. Yet, miraculously, the next day the hunters returned with an unusually bountiful catch.

It was only when they found the gnawed remains and the stone knife still clutched in the corpse’s hand that they realized—the old warrior had not buried himself in the snow. Instead, he had carved his own flesh to lure prey to the area, gifting the tribe a rare feast.

From then on, Snow Burial turned into Blood Burial—at least for those small tribes on the verge of collapse.

“...Then let’s hear what the outsiders have planned, one more time.”

……

Far in the northern lands, within a certain mountain cave.

“Teacher, it’s so cold here, though I can’t really feel anything.”

“Teacher, you really should see the viruses I’ve invented. They’re adorable!”

“Teacher, do you think those native barbarians will work with us?”

“Teacher, if I conquer this world, what reward will the Lord give me? I can hardly wait!”

“Teacher…”

Suddenly, a voice from outside interrupted the raspy monologue: “My lord Bishop, the natives request an audience.”

From the shadows at the back of the cave, a pale young man in a cloak slowly emerged, cradling a skull the size of a palm. Blue-green flames flickered in the eye sockets, casting an eerie glow.

The young man was silent for a long while, then burst into a manic laugh. He addressed the skull: “See, Teacher? I told you they wouldn’t be able to resist forever. Hee hee. I’ve decided—once I conquer this world, I’ll wish for the Lord to resurrect you. Are you happy, Teacher? That way, I can…”

Covering his face with one hand, tears streamed down between his fingers as he sobbed, “That way I can… torment you one more time. Sob… Hahaha!”

……

Time passed, and three months slipped by in the blink of an eye. The crisis of the biting wind faded naturally, and Myer returned to his lively, spirited self—a change that eased much of Lando’s lingering doubts.

That day, Lando was in Carter’s study reading. Carter no longer instructed him directly, instead allowing him free access to the collection.

With his photographic memory, Lando read quickly, but to grasp the true essence of the books, slow and careful study served him best. For Lando, reading was a rare moment of relaxation.

“Lando, have you thought about your future?” Carter asked suddenly.

“My future?” Lando was puzzled, but he knew Carter never spoke without reason. After a moment’s thought, he replied, “For now, I should focus on increasing my strength. Later, perhaps I’ll travel the continent. The world is so vast—I want to see it for myself.”

“The world is so vast—I want to see it for myself!” Carter repeated, his eyes shining. “Well said! Ha! You please me, boy. This world is far bigger than you can imagine.”

“Hmm? Mr. Carter, do you have any suggestions?”

“In about five months, the Royal Capital’s Academy of Magic will be recruiting new students. As it happens, I have recommendation privileges. If you wish to attend, I can write you a letter.”

“The Academy of Magic? I’m very interested, Mr. Carter! But I heard only nobles can be recommended.”

Carter merely smiled, saying nothing more, and Lando didn’t press the matter.

“Seems this Mr. Carter is no ordinary man after all. Ah, magic… I can’t wait. If only I could gain some magical talent in the meantime.”

……

While Lando waited and trained in peace, a sudden piece of news shattered the tranquility he’d come to expect.

“The barbarians are invading?!”

“Hmph, who knows what madness has seized those brutes. To invade with their entire people—they must have a death wish!” Mike snorted disdainfully.

“So the Baron has summoned us to discuss this matter, hasn’t he?”

When they arrived at the council hall, it was already crowded with the territory’s knights. Many greeted Lando with nods or waves, and he returned each gesture in turn.

They didn’t wait long before Baron Moria arrived. Once all discussion ceased, he addressed them: “By now, I’m sure you’ve all heard. In the past, we ignored those barbarians simply because they were worthless to us. But now they dare invade our lands—they’re courting death. Prepare yourselves: tomorrow, we march to Snowfield City!”

A flurry of orders and assignments followed.

Lando wasn’t given any special task; he only needed to accompany the elite knights, which suited him just fine.

As he watched the busy knights depart, and was about to immerse himself in cultivation once more, a voice suddenly echoed in his mind.

“Lando, come see me.”

Lando was momentarily startled—it was Carter’s voice.

“Is this… magic?”

He didn’t hesitate long before heading toward Carter’s study.

“Mr. Carter… I have some questions I’d like to ask.”

“No need to probe further—I was the one who called you,” Carter said with a smile, finding the boy’s caution amusing.

“Oh? May I ask what you require of me, sir?” Lando showed no embarrassment, deftly steering the conversation onward.

Carter’s smile faded, his tone turning grave: “I sense the presence of some old adversaries. I’d like you to help me with something.”