The sky in northern Fiore was a heavy, slate grey. Thick clouds hung low, as if pressing down on the world with a crushing weight. A relentless cold wind carried snowflakes that swirled through the air like fine white ash. In the heart of that storm, the magic train sped forward, cutting through mounds of snow with a soft hum, leaving faint tracks behind a veil of white that refused to lift.
The train came to a stop with the sharp hiss of brakes. SSSHHHH.
The doors slid open. Ren stepped down onto the snow-covered platform. His boots immediately sank into the thick white layer, producing a crisp, muffled crunch. He was greeted by a cold so biting it seeped through his soles and crawled up his skin. Tiny flakes melted on his warm cheeks, leaving wet streaks, while before him lay a glittering expanse of white reflecting the dull sky.
"...So cold." A plume of vapor escaped his mouth.
However, his expression didn't change. His eyes narrowed, scanning his surroundings. This small northern town looked different from Magnolia. The buildings were made of sturdy stone with high, snow-laden roofs. The atmosphere was quieter. Tenser. Citizens hurried past in heavy coats, their glances occasionally darting toward a single point: the mountain in the distance. Tall. White. And... eerie.
Ren watched it for a few seconds. He inhaled slowly. The magic energy in the air was... unstable. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he headed toward the client's residence.
The Skeptical Client
Ren arrived at a grand estate. After showing his mission request to the guards, he was led through a courtyard filled with half-buried stone statues and into a warm main hall. A fire roared in the hearth and thick carpets lined the floor, yet the air was thick with anxiety.
At the end of the room stood a man in his late twenties, well-dressed and handsome, but his face was taut with stress. He looked Ren up and down, his brow furrowing in clear dissatisfaction. "...You?"
Ren stopped a few paces away. "I am the Fairy Tail wizard who accepted the request."
The man crossed his arms and sighed. "...You look... young. I was expecting someone more... reliable."
Ren didn't argue. He was used to clients doubting his age. Instead, he simply released a fragment of his magic power. WHUMM.
The air in the room shifted. It was a subtle pressure, like an invisible hand squeezing the space from all directions. The fire in the hearth flickered violently, and the ornaments on the walls began to rattle. The man froze. His eyes widened as the tension filled his lungs, making it difficult to breathe.
Ren stared at him blankly before pulling the aura back. The pressure vanished instantly. "Haah... haah..." The man gasped, clutching his chest. When he looked at Ren again, the doubt was gone, replaced by relief and a touch of fear.
The Mystery of Mount Draeven
The man walked to a large window and pointed toward the distant peak. "I want you to go to that mountain and investigate what is happening there. We call it Mount Draeven."
He continued, his voice grim. "There have always been stories. Anyone who enters the peak area... never returns."
Ren squinted at the white giant. "...Stories?"
"At first, we thought so. But the terrain there is... different. The magic energy near the summit is chaotic. Compasses fail. Magic tools malfunction. And the temperature... it is extreme."
Ren's mind immediately began to calculate. Distorted magic fields? Dimensional interference? Or something larger?
"For years, we avoided it," the man said, clenching his fist. "But a few months ago... sounds began to echo from it. Explosions. Vibrations. Like something is happening inside the mountain. At first, it was rare. Now... it never stops."
Ren looked at the mountain again. "So that's why you sent the request."
"Yes. My father, the head of this family, sent out the initial pleas for help. Many wizards came. And..." he looked down. "...none returned. We eventually asked the Magic Council for help. They sent investigators, and my father decided to accompany them with our knights. But they haven't come back either."
Silence fell, punctuated only by the crackle of the fire. Ren stared out the window at the forbidden territory. A thin smile touched his lips. "...It's getting interesting."
"You will go?" the man asked. "Yes." "Alone?" "Yes."
The man took a deep breath. "...Then, please. Find them."
Ren turned toward the door. As his hand touched the handle, he paused. "If they're still alive," he said without looking back, "I'll bring them back. If not..."
He opened the door, and the freezing wind rushed in. He stepped out, letting the door thud shut behind him.
Into the White Abyss
Outside, the snow was falling harder. Ren stood for a moment, staring at the peak of Draeven. There was no fear in his eyes, only a sharp curiosity and a spark of enthusiasm.
"Cold air... chaotic field..." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Good training."
His coat billowed in the gale. Without hesitation, Ren began to walk toward the mountain that never gave back what it took. He didn't know yet that this place wouldn't just test his strength—it would test the very limits of his existence.