While the Yeti soldiers outside finalized their strategy, the cottage remained a sanctuary of warmth. The gathering around the wooden table had no inkling of the commotion brewing beyond the lanes, though even if they had known, none of them would have batted an eye.
Given the formidable strength gathered in the room, if a common imperial inspection detail chose to cause trouble today, those officers might as well draft their final testaments before entering. They simply stood zero chance of survival.
"So you only relocated to this valley a couple of months ago?" Talulah asked, her voice laced with surprise. "But looking at the lanes on our way in, the population seems entirely depleted. Where did everyone go?"
According to the grandfather, less than half of their original neighbors remained. Talulah's mind immediately jumped to a dark conclusion, fearing that when the community had been forced to abandon their old village because of her, they had encountered a catastrophic ambush or a deadly blizzard along the trail.
"Ah, do not torment yourself over it," the grandfather sighed, waving his hand to dismiss her fears. "Our previous settlement was overrun by a migration of originium slugs. Who could have guessed those miserable pests would detonate upon impact? They ruined our remaining tilled fields, forcing us to pack our wagons. Along the road, many of our able-bodied youths chose to merge with wealthier farming communities. Only a few elders and a handful of stubborn families kept walking until we stumbled upon these abandoned cabins to find temporary shelter."
The old man shook his head, struggling to find the right words to describe their recent hardships. The journey had been incredibly complex; it felt entirely surreal, marked by a strange blend of misfortune and unexpected strokes of luck.
"The place looks barren now because we haven't even had the opportunity to unpack our proper tools," he continued, casting a worried look through the window. "We intend to wait until the spring thaw to determine if this soil can truly sustain a crop. The ground here is notoriously poor; any grain we plant is highly likely to yield a meager harvest."
Yet, they simply lacked the resources to search for a superior haven.
"But enough brooding over our prospects," the old man declared, his expression brightening as he studied the young women. "Our withered bones can endure anywhere. Tell us about yourselves. You three have clearly walked down a very long road since we last spoke."
He could see a profound transformation in their bearing. The raw, unpolished edges of their youth had been replaced by a quiet, commanding gravity, a testament to the immense trials they had navigated.
"Not at all..." Talulah murmured, suddenly resembling a schoolgirl receiving praise from her tutors as she sheepishly scratched her temple. "I don't feel as though I've changed much."
"How utterly spineless~" a mocking voice chimed within her consciousness.
Silence! Talulah roared back internally, swatting away Kashchey's ill-timed intrusion.
"It is precisely that stubborn nature of yours that worries me," the grandmother chided gently, turning a warm gaze toward Alina and Fafnir. "I constantly fret over whether you are causing endless headaches for Jeanne and the others out there. Has she been running wild lately?" the old lady whispered to the Elafia.
The grandmother's gaze lingered on the youngster resting against Alina. While she refrained from making reckless assumptions, the young girl looked so much like a miniature version of Talulah, with a distinct hint of Jeanne's expression around the eyes, that it was impossible to ignore.
But seeing the sudden complexity in Talulah's eyes, she chose to hold her peace. She reasoned the child's background was likely fraught with hardship, and the girls simply wished to spare them the worry.
"Grandmother, Talulah has matured beautifully," Alina spoke up, her voice brimming with sincerity as she defended her friend. "During our travels, she has been our staunchest shield. She has saved us from danger more times than I can count."
Hearing the validation, Talulah straightened her shoulders, feeling a surge of pride. She hadn't been a burden at all!
"My word, so our wyvern girl truly has grown up," the grandmother beamed. "No longer the reckless youth who would sprint into the blizzards for days on end, leaving me to pace the kitchen floor in a panic."
"Jeanne, come outside and lend these old arms some strength," the grandfather commanded suddenly, using the exact same tone he had employed years ago when assigning household chores.
As the quintessential helpful and capable youth of the family, Jeanne rose instantly, following the old man out the door with practiced ease.
With the two gone, Talulah and Alina continued to share a carefully edited chronicle of their recent years. They consciously omitted the brutal battles, the political strife, and the weight of leading Reunion, choosing to invent a much tamer narrative to shield the elderly couple from unnecessary anxiety.
"That white-haired girl, Yelena... her past is remarkably heavy, isn't it?" the grandfather asked once they were clear of the porch.
He had used the chore as an excuse to visit the headman's house to borrow a basket of provisions. The girls possessed healthy appetites, and his own pantry was far too bare to offer a proper welcoming feast.
"Yes... you could say that," Jeanne replied softly, choosing her words with care. "She has survived incredible hardships."
She had no desire to reveal the full scope of their current operations, knowing the knowledge would only burden the elderly pair with fear for their safety.
"Hah, you children are all the same, always trying to protect us from the truth," the grandfather chuckled, a knowing look in his eyes. "I can see the steel in that girl's posture. Your circle has clearly achieved remarkable things during your absence."
He looked at the young saint beside him, his heart swelling with a mixture of wonder and respect. Who could have foreseen that the stranded, solitary youth they had taken into their home years ago would grow to command such destiny?
"It feels like a beautiful dream sometimes," the old man mused. "The frail girl who collapsed on our doorstep and that naive Vouivre have turned into individuals of immense significance in the blink of an eye. This old skeleton can greet the earth knowing his life wasn't wasted."
"Do not speak of such things, Grandpa!" Jeanne countered firmly, giving his arm a gentle nudge. "You have many a winter left in you. You still need to watch us progress through life!"
They reached the headman's cottage. Before they could even voice their request, the old village leader opened the door and handed over a woven basket brimming with fresh rye bread—an act of immense generosity given the community's meager stores.
The grandfather attempted to decline a portion, well aware that the headman's own reserves were running low.
"I am a solitary bachelor; a handful of grain is more than enough for my needs!" the headman countered gruffly, slamming the door shut to end the argument.
"Tell me," the grandfather began quietly as they retraced their steps down the lane, "when must you depart?"
"...Likely before dusk today," Jeanne admitted after a painful pause. "We are scheduled to begin a very long journey tomorrow."
The old man's gaze dimmed slightly. Deep down, he had harbored a fragile hope that the girls might linger for a week, but he understood the harsh realities of the world far too well to demand it.
"Very well. You are individuals destined for grand tasks; it would be unseemly to keep you anchored to a crumbling hearth. Follow whatever path your hearts demand, and waste no worry on us old folks!"
Despite the ache of separation, the grandfather offered no complaints. He recognized that the trio was pouring their lives into a monumental cause, something far grander than his simple farming mind could grasp. He couldn't assist them, but he refused to become a anchor that dragged them down.
By the time they re-entered the cabin, the grandmother had posed the exact same question to Alina. Upon hearing the answer, the old woman immediately tied her apron, determined to prepare a proper hot meal before her girls vanished into the snows once more.
Jeanne took the opportunity to broach a proposal she had discussed with Talulah. She earnestly requested that the old couple pack their belongings and relocate to the vanguard's primary settlement within the mountain fissures. That moving town hosted permanent defenders, offering a level of security that this exposed valley could never match.
Furthermore, if any of their fellow villagers wished to join the migration, the vanguard would welcome them with open arms.
The grandfather hesitated, unsure of the nature of this hidden haven and terrified of becoming a burden to their children's operations.
"Grandpa, you need not harbor such doubts," Talulah urged, stepping forward. "The location is extraordinarily secure, and proper housing is already prepared. In fact, our own cottage there will sit empty once we march..."
Listening to the earnest descriptions, the elderly couple felt a spark of genuine desire. They wanted to see the world their girls had built with their own hands.
Just as the decision was finalized, a commotion erupted outside in the lanes. A panicked neighbor shouted that phantom-like white shapes were darting through the pines at impossible speeds, raising fears of an impending bandit raid.
The moment the words "white shapes" reached FrostNova's ears, her long Cautus ears twitched sharply, and her gaze grew incredibly fierce.
Those absolute idiots... have they managed to cause a scene?
"Excuse me for a moment. I shall resolve this matter," FrostNova announced, her voice dropping into a chilly register as she turned toward the door. She was fully prepared to deliver a lesson her scouts would never forget.
Down at the tree line, the Yeti soldiers who had intercepted the imperial tax collectors were currently staring at an entirely different problem. A terrified villager had stumbled into their perimeter during the ambush, leaving the soldiers wondering how to shield the civilian once the weapons were drawn.
"Wait... it's you monsters? Bloody hell, retreat! Fall back!"
Before the Yeti scouts could even raise their blades, the imperial tax collectors recognized the distinctive winter garb of the notorious northern guerrillas. Dropping their threats instantly, the officers bolted back down the ridge.
The sheer velocity of their flight looked less like a tactical retreat and more like a desperate race for survival.
The Yeti soldiers stood in the clearing, thoroughly amused. They weren't maneating beasts; such a frantic reaction felt rather uncalled for.
"I believe you all owe me a meticulous explanation," a voice like cracking ice echoed from behind the treeline.
Oh, spectacular. We are completely doomed.
The exact same thought resonated through the mind of every single Yeti soldier present as they slowly turned to face their captain.