"What was that?"
The white figure was flying high and far away. It flashed past and vanished into the clouds so fast that Gauss didn't even get a clear look before it disappeared.
But Hephaestus couldn't fly in the snow mountains, and that creature had flown so high without fearing the cold—its strength was clearly no joke.
"Forget it. Let's keep moving."
Anything that could be active in this snow range—aside from ice-and-snow elementals—was unlikely to be weak.
If the wilderness around Grayrock Town was a beginner zone, then this place was at least an early map… maybe even mid-tier.
No doubt about it: plenty of powerful beings were entrenched here.
Gauss had no intention of seeking fights on purpose.
On the contrary, he needed to avoid threats, based on the intel he'd gathered in advance.
These steep snowfields weren't a good battleground for their party.
Rather than fight and risk triggering an unknown avalanche, it was better to conserve strength and detour.
Gauss glanced at the water-sword in his hand.
This holy water came from the lake spirit, carrying a trace of divine power.
Maybe it was sensing the presence of the lake spirit's sister growing closer—because that sliver of divinity felt almost… excited.
"Whooosh—"
As they pushed deeper into the mountains, the wind and snow intensified.
Even just walking was draining.
"Looks like there's a tree over there," Alia said, having sensed a faint thread of life through the storm.
"Let's check it out."
"Careful."
Even with visibility shredded by the blizzard, Gauss trusted Alia's instincts.
Sure enough, when they moved in the direction she indicated, a tree stood beneath a cliff face, buried in white.
Gauss didn't approach immediately. He had Shadow scout the area first.
After confirming there were no monsters nearby—at least not right now—they moved in.
It was a fruit tree adapted to extreme cold, and its branches held dozens of shimmering, ice-blue fruits.
They looked like little spheres of ice.
Gauss swallowed. He could feel mana coming off them.
These were valuable magical items—about thirty of them.
No time wasted. Excited, everyone harvested the storm-grown fruit and handed them to Alia, who infused them with life energy and stored them in preservation cases.
Then Gauss looked at the tree itself.
"Can this ice-vein tree be transplanted?"
If it could keep producing magical fruit, the tree would be valuable too.
Alia stepped forward and pressed her palm to the trunk.
After a moment, she shook her head.
"It's fused with the local leyline. If you transplant it and remove it from this dense cold mana, it'll probably wither pretty quickly."
Gauss nodded—disappointed, but not surprised.
"Shame."
He recognized the species: a fruit tree that only grew on specific cold-ley nodes. Ninety-nine percent of its value was in the Ice Vein Fruit.
For casters who studied frost magic, these were priceless—sparking insight and temporarily boosting affinity for cold mana. Long-term use could even alter constitution.
But "long-term" meant ten years or more. Thirty fruits were only a drop in the bucket.
Market price was roughly 25 gold per fruit, depending on ripeness and quality.
Gauss suspected this tree wasn't top-grade—because the temperature here wasn't at the most brutal extreme, suggesting the leyline below was just a branch.
Still, that might be exactly why it had no powerful guardian monster… and why Gauss's party got it instead.
Gauss marked the spot on his map—Ice Vein Tree—and led the team onward.
Two days in the snow mountains passed in a blur.
"Cough—"
Everyone was coated in white; even their brows and lashes had frosted over.
The mountain routes were harsher than Gauss expected.
They constantly detoured around terrain hazards, disasters, and threats.
The only comforting thing was how little direct danger they'd faced.
A few reckless snow-imps—bat-like creatures—had tried to ambush them, and Gauss crushed them like soft targets.
Other than that, there was almost no fighting.
"We're close!"
Standing on a relatively open icefield, Gauss and the others stared up at a colossal presence that seemed to stitch sky and earth together.
A single, immense peak: Mount Isthm's summit.
The surrounding ridges felt like they existed only to serve it.
It stood there like a white monument, its surface wrapped in frost-clouds coiling like silver serpents.
Against the heavens, the outline of Isthm Peak was razor-clear—majestic, eternal, sacred—like a god's dwelling from legend.
"So beautiful…" Alia breathed.
The grandeur made the omnipresent cold feel less unbearable.
Gauss, however, studied the wide snowplain leading to the mountain.
If the earlier path had been narrow and winding—and oddly light on monsters—this open expanse was the perfect breeding ground for ice-and-snow creatures.
Would there be danger?
He tightened his grip on his staff.
"From here on, we need to be extra careful."
He reminded the team not to get hypnotized by the scenery and forget the danger—or the mission.
After a short rest, they pressed on.
Half a day passed.
Gauss looked back at the storm-wrapped snowplain behind them and scratched his head in confusion.
They'd crossed it… without any of the expected threats.
No ambushes. No disasters. Just harsh weather.
In fact, the whole journey had been oddly smooth: few monster encounters, easy avoidance, even a free, unguarded ice-vein tree.
It was almost as if someone had arranged things in advance.
Gauss stared at the mountain.
Was it you?
The Snow-Mountain Spirit, Esvel…
They were here at Lake Spirit Moterra's request: investigate the source of the pollution at Mount Isthm, birthplace of Esvel.
Step one was finding Esvel—this mountain's "owner."
At the foot of the peak, facing a summit thousands of meters high, the team fell into an awkward silence.
"How do we summon the snow-mountain spirit?" Alia finally asked, voicing what everyone was thinking.
The mountain was too vast. Investigating the pollution source alone would take far longer than they had.
Their cold-resistance potions only had three or four days left. Once those ran out, they wouldn't instantly freeze to death—but their mobility would plummet, and they'd be forced to retreat.
"Build an altar?" Albena shrugged. "Like when we called the lake spirit?"
Gauss glanced at the holy water-sword in his hand.
Once they reached the mountain base, it felt fully "awakened," offering an intangible guidance.
Gauss narrowed his eyes.
He sensed a faint ribbon of energy extending from the blade, pointing in a specific direction.
The others didn't seem to see it.
"Follow me."
Since everyone was stuck, they might as well follow the divine guidance.
The team nodded, guessing the lake spirit's gift was doing something they couldn't perceive.
Guided by the blade, they moved along the mountain base until they reached a cliff.
Unlike the other rock faces, this one was pure crystalline ice—smooth as a mirror.
They could clearly see their reflections.
And here, the wind and snow… stopped.
"You've come."
A voice rang out—impossible to locate, as if it came from everywhere at once.
Or rather: it echoed directly inside their minds.
"You're called Gauss, aren't you? Did my sister Moterra send you to find me?"
Behind the ice-mirror cliff, the figure of an ice-and-snow woman slowly appeared.
She was breathtakingly cold and beautiful. Storm and snow formed her garments, yet her gaze toward Gauss held a faint softness.
She wasn't surprised in the slightest—like she'd known they were coming all along.
"Yes, Lady Esvel," Gauss said. "Lady Moterra asked me to come to Mount Isthm and investigate the source of the pollution."
This was the best-case scenario.
They'd reached the mountain and met its master directly—no wandering blindly through the snow.
Esvel sighed.
"Too late. It's already too late."
Gauss assumed she meant their travel time—summer to early winter—and his face softened with apology.
"Sorry. We did our best."
"No," Esvel said. "Not your fault. The evil buried under this mountain broke containment decades ago."
Her perfect features showed a bitter smile.
That actually eased Gauss's guilt. He was still confused, but at least it wasn't something caused by him—he hadn't even been born decades ago.
"Have you heard the origin of this mountain range?" Esvel asked.
"'Tomb of the Frost-Breath Star'… a meteor fell here and brought endless winter," Gauss repeated, summarizing Albena's legend.
"That wasn't a meteor," Esvel said. "It was something unimaginably evil. I was once the natural spirit of Isthm Peak—before it grew this vast. To suppress that ever-radiating malice, I had to keep strengthening my power… until the lone peak became this entire mountain range."
She blinked slowly.
"Every ridge is my limbs. Every snowfield is my skin. The moment you set foot here, I noticed you."
"No wonder we avoided strong enemies. Thank you," Gauss said.
Esvel nodded.
"My main strength still holds down the evil will that has already slipped free—barely. Its malice flows downward, nourishing wickedness… and I can do nothing."
She shook her head, worry on her face.
"Can I help reinforce the seal?" Gauss asked.
"You?" Esvel studied him for a long time, then shook her head.
"You can't."
"And it's irreversible now—like seasons turning. After long summer comes deep winter. Kingdoms rise and fall; even a wise king cannot make a dynasty eternal. The world, too, after long peace… will enter its time of chaos."
Gauss's eyes widened slightly.
He wasn't obsessed with his own limits—he understood she meant this crisis was beyond his current ability.
But that last part… "chaos"…
"Chaos is coming?" he repeated.
It felt like everything lately was pointing toward upheaval: the death of a legendary sword saint, a holy sword waiting for its chosen, monster numbers surging, more humans turning to adventuring, and now a snow-mountain spirit who could no longer contain an ancient evil…
"You still have time, Gauss," Esvel said. "When winter crushes summer and night swallows light, the 'order' you know will face its destined… trial."
"Step forward."
"I will grant you the blessing of storm and snow."
The team exchanged looks and moved closer.
Esvel's fingertip touched the ice-mirror surface, tracing intricate frost-flower patterns—complex, law-like geometry.
"Tides rise and fall. After winter, spring will breathe again. Chaos is not the end…"
"When night is darkest…"
"In winter's deepest…"
"Who will keep the fire…"
She withdrew her hand. The frost-flower pattern scattered into starlike motes, passed through the ice, and drifted onto Gauss and the others.
Gauss felt power seep into his body—but couldn't immediately describe the change.
He only knew one thing: the cold around him vanished.
"This is not a place you can linger," Esvel said. "I will send you away."
Gauss wondered what method she'd use—until a high, resonant roar sounded overhead.
A vast white dragon—more like a "snow dragon"—descended from the sky.
It was enormous, beautiful, and radiated sacred divinity.
It lacked any of the vicious aura common to chromatic dragons. Its eyes held clear intelligence.
That was the white creature they'd glimpsed earlier on the journey.
Probably not a white dragon, Gauss thought. White dragons were supposed to be stupid.
Whether she heard his thoughts or simply read the meaning in his stare, the giant dragon snorted a blast of frost.
"Climb on, honored guests," the white dragon said, speaking plainly. "I will escort you out of the mountains."