The winter march was a formidable sight. With a combined force of House Clausel knights and seasoned adventurers, there was a reassuring sense of security against any monster threats. Ren’s presence seemed to be the catalyst for the extra precautions; the team had brought along an abundance of magic tools specifically for camping in the harsh conditions.
However, the journey to the Baldur Mountains took several days longer than usual due to the heavy snowfall.
"So, we’ve finally arrived."
Before him loomed the Silver Peaks. When he had last seen them, they bore only a light dusting of frost, but now they were cloaked in a pristine, unbroken white. As the sun began to dip, a faint madder-red glow washed over the slopes. The razor-sharp ridges, reminiscent of polished blades, stood defiant against the increasing ferocity of the elements. It was a world apart from his frantic flight with Lithia; this landscape possessed a solemn majesty that more than lived up to its reputation as the "Last Stage" of the game he remembered.
"The amount of snow is truly staggering, isn't it?" one of the knights remarked.
"None of the villages we stopped at along the way had anything like this," Ren replied.
The expedition hadn't been idle. Winter marches were grueling, and they had spent the past few days assisting various villages along the route. Several knights had stayed behind at those settlements to help with the labor. Ren and the remaining elite knights had prioritized the safety of the territory's citizens before finally reaching the mountains.
"Lord Hero!"
Meidas’s voice echoed from the group of adventurers. They had traveled alongside the knights all the way from the Town of Clausel.
"Yes? What is it?" Ren asked, heading toward him.
Meidas looked up at the peaks and sighed. "The mountain trails are buried deeper than I feared. In some spots, even the trees are completely submerged."
"It’s going to be a struggle," Ren noted. "Even if we used magic to clear the path, we’d risk triggering an avalanche."
"Exactly," Meidas agreed. "We have to weave our way through. Unless we had wings like a Harpy, we’re stuck doing it the hard way."
There was no point in wishing for the impossible. One of the knights took charge. "Fellow adventurers, I propose we set up a base camp first."
"Agreed," Meidas said. "We’ll depart tomorrow. It's late, and the sun will be down by the time we finish the camp."
Though some felt the sting of frustration, knowing the survivors in the fort were waiting, they knew better than to rush blindly into a mountain at night. They had seen the signal fire just the day before; they knew their targets were still alive.
Still, Ren had a nagging suspicion. He knew from his talk with Kai that several adventurers were guarding the merchant. In a world where adventurers possessed superhuman physical traits, would a simple blizzard really pin them down?
"I see the snow is deep," Ren asked a knight, "but is this enough to truly stop a group of professional adventurers?"
"It depends," the knight replied. "With the right gear and magic tools, they could descend. But they have a client to protect. They might be prioritizing the client’s safety, or perhaps they’re dealing with an injury they can't travel with. There might be some unforeseen factor we can't see from here."
"I'll keep that in mind," Ren said, looking up at the vast expanse of white.
That evening, as they gathered around the campfires for dinner, Meidas and the knights finalized their plans.
"The path to the fort is set," Meidas announced. "We’ll be pushing through deep drifts, so expect it to take two or three days to reach them. I'll handle the adventurers' side of the formation."
"We’ll provide the heavy transport and the vanguard," the knight added.
"We want to be near Ren-kun!" one of the female adventurers joked, breaking the tension.
"That’s right! Better to be near a cute boy than a bunch of musty men!"
The camp erupted in lighthearted banter as they tried to bolster their spirits for the climb ahead. That night, they slept fitfully, praying for the safety of those trapped in the heights.
The next morning, they set out at dawn, trudging through the snow until dusk. On the third day, as they neared their destination, they reached a massive suspension bridge spanning a deep canyon. The wind whipped at their faces, and the bottom of the gorge was lost in a gray void.
"They say this is part of an old volcanic system," a knight remarked beside Ren.
Ren nodded. He knew the lore. In the game, this canyon had been a hellscape of lava flows and undead, choked with the miasma of decaying monsters—a poisonous gas born from concentrated mana. It had been a dread-filled abyss befitting a final stage.
Thirty minutes after crossing the bridge, the fort came into view.
"Everyone! Let's go!" Meidas shouted.
Their pace quickened, despite the snow that reached their knees. As they drew closer, the sound of battle pierced the wind. Meidas’s dog ears twitched.
"The fort’s under attack! Move!"
Meidas dashed forward, and Ren followed, exchanging a grim look with the knights. The screams of a monster swarm and the rhythmic sounds of combat echoed through the returning blizzard.
"Lord Ren! Do not overdo it!" the knight warned.
"I know!" Ren shouted back, drawing his sword.
He saw familiar monsters and new ones alike, a chaotic mass swarming the fort. He expected to find battle-hardened veterans, but as the snow cleared, he froze. The defenders were a dozen or so boys and girls, barely older than himself.
"W-Who are you!?" one of the youths cried out.
"We're here to help!" Meidas roared, diving into the fray.
The young defenders were startlingly skilled. They unleashed elemental magic—fireballs and blades of wind—with a precision that suggested rigorous training. In this world, such power was a rare gift, yet here it was being used with casual mastery.
Ren spotted a girl fighting in isolation, swarmed by shadows some distance away.
"I’ll take that side!" he shouted. He moved like a gale, his feet barely sinking into the drifts. He reached her just as a beast lunged at her back, cutting it down with a single stroke of his Iron Magic Sword.
She spun around. "You...?"
"I'm with the rescue team!" Ren said. Even amidst the chaos, her voice was strikingly clear.
The blizzard obscured her face, but her movements were mesmerizing. Her black hair whipped in the wind as she released ice magic from both hands. They fell into a rhythm—Ren handling the close-quarters swordplay with the precision Weiss had taught him, while the girl rained down jagged shards of frost from a distance.
It was uncanny. It felt as if he knew her next move before she made it, and she seemed to move in perfect harmony with his blade. They didn't struggle; they dominated.
Before long, only one monster remained. Ren’s sword and the girl’s magic pierced it simultaneously.
As the beast dissolved into the blood-stained snow, the girl collapsed, her strength finally failing her.
"Are you all right?" Ren asked.
"I... I'm sorry," she panted, her voice like a clear mountain stream. "That was the first time I've fought so many... Now that it's over, my legs just won't move."
Ren reached out a hand to help her up. At that moment, the blizzard suddenly died down, and the sun broke through the clouds.
Ren finally saw her. She was stunning—a beauty that felt almost mystical, her obsidian hair and jewel-like features making her look like a spirit of the snow. Even compared to Lithia, she possessed an overwhelming, ethereal grace.
As their fingers touched, a sharp crackle of purple electricity jumped from the necklace at her throat.
"Huh?" "Eh?"
They both tilted their heads, the spark vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Ren glanced at the piece of jewelry.
A Necklace of Warding?
He recognized it from the game. It was a legendary but mechanically useless item, one of a handful in the world that didn't live up to its rarity. Why is she wearing that? he wondered.
He helped her to her feet just as Meidas approached.
"I'm told you're the leader here," the werewolf said. "I have to ask—why is a group of children out in a place like this?"
The girl looked at the crests on the knights' armor and let out a soft breath of relief. She straightened her posture with a grace that belonged in a royal court and bowed to the knights.
"I am Fiona," she said, her voice clear and elegant. "The only daughter of Ulysses Ignat, Lord of Eupeheim."
The revelation left the entire rescue party in a state of stunned silence. Not even Ren, with all his knowledge of the world's secrets, could have predicted this encounter.