Chapter 22

As they approached the altar, the blizzard intensified.

In the forest that spread across the foothills of Mount Snowlea, the snow, whipped by strong crosswinds, turned the view white. The distance between the ranks was much shorter than usual, and the horses had to be pressed close together to avoid losing sight of each other.

The howling wind blocked their ears, and the snow that clung to their coats sapped their body heat.

Even with gloves, thick socks, and boots, and despite wearing fur hats, the tips of their fingers, toes, and ears felt as if they were freezing and aching.

However, one fortunate thing was that the snow in the forest was not as bad as they had expected. The densely packed trees seemed to catch some of the snow falling from the sky, allowing them to proceed on horseback.

However, at times, the branches could not withstand the weight of the snow and would break, posing a danger. If heavy snow fell with speed, it would create an impact like being hit by a block of iron, enough to take a life. They had to be extremely cautious of falling snow.

How much farther to the altar? Grail had visited the altar several times on patrol, but it was difficult to gauge the exact distance in a blizzard where one could not see more than a few steps ahead.

The temperature seemed to have dropped even further since they entered the forest. Each breath felt as if it would freeze their lungs.

The word "retreat" flashed through Grail's mind. It might be difficult to proceed further in this situation. They should turn back while the horses still had strength.

What worried him most was the poor visibility. The familiar scenery looked completely different, and the risk of taking a wrong path was high.

Grail, who was leading the group alongside Kicks, turned to call out to Cromwell, the commander of the detachment, who was at the rear.

However, at that moment, the blizzard that had been tormenting them suddenly weakened.

The strength that had unconsciously entered their bodies to protect themselves from the cold and the wind began to dissipate. The subordinates, too, were surprised by the sudden calm and looked up at the sky.

"What's going on? Why did it suddenly calm down?"

"Did the wind stop?"

"No... don't let your guard down."

Grail sternly told the subordinates, who were standing with their mouths agape. The phrase "calm before the storm" came to mind.

When they realized it, they had emerged into an open space in the forest, and the altar was right in front of them.

"Hey? We're already here?"

As Kicks said this, he dismounted. Grail also got off his horse and cautiously approached the altar, treading on the snow.

The altar of the Snow Spirit Snowlea consisted of only two large white stone pillars standing side by side. It was unclear whether it had always been like this or if the original structure had decayed over time. However, the stone pillars were so tall and magnificent that they would not be completely hidden by any amount of snow.

"Was the blizzard really caused by the spirit?"

Cromwell, who had dismounted and approached, mused. There was indeed a sense of purpose in the blizzard stopping as soon as they approached the altar. However, it did not feel like a welcoming gesture. The wind had stopped, and the surroundings were so quiet it hurt their ears, but Grail felt an indescribable tension in that silence.

"Kicks, come back. Don't go forward alone."

Grail called back the subordinate who had approached the altar out of curiosity and remained vigilant. Cromwell also cast sharp glances around.

The snow fell silently and steadily. Someone swallowed hard in tension.

"Will the spirit really appear?"

Grail had never seen the Snow Spirit, and among the townspeople who regularly came to this altar to pray, few had actually seen the spirit.

However, everyone believed that the Snow Spirit protected the region from outsiders who intended to cause trouble with snow and cold. The region was protected by the snow.

Indeed, despite being on the border, no conflict had ever occurred in this region, partly due to the excessive snow. The army was too preoccupied with dealing with the snow to even consider an attack.

"Have you ever seen the Snow Spirit Snowlea?"

Cromwell, still staring straight at the altar, asked Grail, who shook his head in response.

"The story of the Snow Spirit's benevolence towards this country is well-known. It is said that the spirit occasionally cooperates with the royal family to protect the country. However, I have never seen it myself. I have heard that it is said to be an incredibly beautiful woman."

Cromwell nodded at Grail's response and said,

"I have seen it. When I was the prince's guard for a while."

Grail nodded. He remembered that Cromwell and the first prince were childhood friends.

"Wow! Commander, you've seen the Snow Spirit? That's awesome, must be a gorgeous beauty, right?"

"Indeed, she was beautiful, but that beauty..."

As Cromwell was about to respond to Kicks, who had interrupted,—

The surroundings became even quieter, as if the snow had absorbed all sound. The breath they exhaled froze instantly upon contact with the air.

A gust of wind blew through the sacred altar in the forest, stirring up the snow on the ground.

When the snow that had been stirred up fell back to the ground, a beautiful woman stood in the center of the altar, where there had been nothing before.

"..."

Kicks and the other subordinates were speechless. Grail, too, could only stare with wide eyes at the figure. Her beauty was so otherworldly that he felt as if he were being drawn into it.

The woman was dressed differently from the common clothes worn by the people of this country and the dresses worn by the nobility. She wore a white, slightly glossy robe, fastened with a belt below her chest.

The fabric clung to her body, with a wide-open neckline. While an ordinary man might have been drawn to such features, Grail focused on the white fur scarf, which seemed to be of good quality. It must be soft and slightly cold, like Mil.

When he raised his gaze slightly, he saw a perfectly formed, small face. It was as beautiful as an ice sculpture, with no flaws.

Cromwell, who was standing next to him, was often praised by the town's women for his beauty, but compared to the woman in front of him, the type of beauty was completely different. Both had an icy beauty, but Cromwell's was more human. Upon closer inspection, there were small scars on his face, and his nose was red from the cold...

However, the beauty in front of him had skin as white as melted snow, so perfect that it seemed almost artificial. It was as if no warm, red blood flowed beneath that skin.

Her hair was a lustrous silver, each strand shimmering faintly.

Her pale blue eyes, like ice on a clear spring, were filled with a chilling beauty and glared at them.

Even her angry face was captivating. Her beauty was like a weapon.

She did not seem human. This must be the Snow Spirit Snowlea.

Grail, who had been standing still with goosebumps, suddenly came to his senses and turned to the subordinates behind him. They were all captivated by the sudden appearance of the beautiful woman, even forgetting to breathe.

"Hey, take a breath."

Even when Grail urgently warned them, they remained frozen, not even blinking. They looked as if their souls had been taken away.

"Do not stare at the spirit's face. Instead, focus on that white fur scarf."

Following Grail's words, the subordinates slowly lowered their gaze to the neck. Then, they all relaxed their facial muscles slightly and took a deep breath.

Thinking about that scarf, they all had the same thought. They recalled the pleasant feeling of petting the white fox cub at the fort and regained a bit of composure.

"Is this the Snow Spirit Snowlea...?"

Cromwell, who had seen her before, seemed calmer than the other knights. He spoke to the enraged spirit with a sense of tension.

"..."

The spirit's voice, more like a whisper, was not loud. However, her transparent and cold voice resonated clearly in Grail's ears, making his eardrums vibrate. Even in a crowd, her voice would likely be distinguishable.

Snowlea covered her mouth with her long-sleeved hand and let out a pained cry from her throat. Her finely arched eyebrows were raised in anger.

"My beloved child is gone...! You humans, where have you taken Milfuria!"

Snowlea's eyes widened. However, beneath her alluring lips, sharp fangs were visible.

The knights felt an invisible pressure as she shouted, and they gasped, almost falling backward if they had not braced their feet. The frightened horses neighed in the rear.

Grail quickly organized the information. The Snow Spirit was indeed angry, and the cause seemed to be her child, which was news to him. Cromwell, standing next to him, also seemed unaware, frowning.

"Why did you come here? Did you take my child? What is your purpose?"

A growl, like that of a beast, escaped the beautiful Snow Spirit. She bared her teeth, ready to pounce.

Grail instinctively reached for the sword at his waist but restrained himself and explained.

"Wait, we came here only to ask you to stop the blizzard. Snow Spirit, please listen. We are knights who protect this region. We did not take your child. We didn't even know you had a child."

"...Knights of the fort."

Snowlea seemed to regain some composure upon recognizing their identity. Perhaps she believed Grail's sincere words, and her anger subsided.

"It is natural that you did not know I had a child. I feared this would happen, so I never told anyone. Spirit children are weak and easy to take, but they grow to possess great power. I was wary of humans who might try to exploit them. How did you find out I had a child..."

She muttered the last part to herself, her beautiful face twisted in anger.

If the spirit's child had indeed been taken, it would be a major incident. What was the perpetrator's motive? Were they trying to overthrow the royal family or the country, or was it for a more selfish desire? In any case, it was an emergency. They needed to send a messenger to the capital immediately.

However, they needed to gather more information first. Grail, regaining his composure, asked the non-human beauty in front of him.

"However, at this time of year, it would be difficult for humans to reach your home on the mountain. Though it's hard to say... there's a possibility that your child left the home on their own..."

Even Grail did not want to add fuel to the fire of the spirit's anger. However, logically, it seemed more likely that the child had left on their own. Climbing Mount Snowlea in winter was not a sane decision.

The Snow Spirit raised her eyebrows and said,

"Indeed, with human strength, it is difficult to reach the summit where I live. However, it is not impossible. Over the past few hundred years, there have been many times when humans with evil intentions have climbed the mountain to reach me. Half give up halfway, and half die on the way, but occasionally, someone reaches near the summit when the weather is favorable. I have always caused an avalanche to swallow them before they could get close to my home."

The Snow Spirit paused. Even though they were evil, she seemed to have no qualms about taking their lives. Hearing her speak so casually, Grail was reminded that she was indeed a spirit.

While many spirits have no interest in humans, Snowlea is known for having emotions.