Chapter 102: Chapter 101: Figxin and the Winterfort Snowstorm

Ominous clouds smothered the sky, a sign that a blizzard could hit at any moment.

The weather in the Northern Domain was always like this. Not even a Prophet Mage could say for certain when a storm of ice and snow might strike.

Every such storm claimed innocent lives—people trapped under collapsed houses in their sleep on an otherwise ordinary day, or farmers whose entire year’s harvest was destroyed by hail.

Figxin was brought back to Winterfort under guard.

The heavy gates slammed shut, the sound echoing through the great hall with a puff of dust.

Zete Mage immediately cast Protective Magic on the doors.

He was somewhat regretful. ’Why didn’t I major in the School of Defense or the Plastic Energy School back when I was young? I’d be more useful in the face of sudden danger.’

"Have they found the shooter?" Figxin asked urgently as a Priest tended to the wound on her ear.

’This little wound is nothing. I’ve been hurt far worse than this on more than one occasion.’

’The problem is who caused it.’

"No, not yet. But it’s unlikely we’ll be able to track him. I only caught a glimpse, but his level must be quite high. It would be difficult for our Personal Guard to keep up."

Zete Mage was as precise as ever in his speech.

"How far away was his position?"

"At least 600 meters."

"Six hundred?" Figxin was surprised. It was difficult enough for Standard Firearms to maintain accuracy beyond 100 meters.

’So it wasn’t just an Enchanted Bullet. The firearm itself must be a rare Magical Device, and the shooter is an expert.’

’Even if he’s no Legendary Figure, his level can’t be lower than sixteen or seventeen. Otherwise, he couldn’t afford such extravagant equipment.’

’A huge problem.’

They were certainly taking her seriously. Faced with such danger, she felt a flicker of excitement.

At her core, she was a person who loved a good fight.

’Since I can’t avoid being attacked, I’d rather my assailant be a master. Anything less would be an insult.’

"Did you find the bullet?" she pressed.

"We did."

"Let me see it."

A soldier from the Personal Guard immediately placed the blood-stained bullet head in her hand.

The material looked quite expensive. It was engraved with intricate patterns, and the tip radiated Magic Power.

’Flamboyant, yet practical. A familiar style.’

Figxin suddenly laughed—a laugh of resignation.

"This is a bullet used exclusively by the Royal Guard," she told Zete Mage.

"What?"

"Someone from the Royal Guard has come to kill a member of the Royal Family. Isn’t that rather ironic?" Figxin said wryly.

She not only recognized the bullet’s origin but could also identify the owner of this unique pattern.

It was her childhood instructor, the one tasked with teaching the members of the Royal Family combat and marksmanship.

’I was his best student. Though, I wonder if he said that to every Prince and Princess.’

’After all, who can you really trust in the royal court?’

"He didn’t shoot any civilians," she said suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"A bullet like this would have gone right through a human wall of mere mortals. He hasn’t lost his mind completely."

"Couldn’t it be that he was in a hurry to escape after being discovered?"

"He had a window to take more than one shot. Everyone in the castle, go take shelter in the cellars. He’s only after me."

Figxin knew her teacher’s methods well. ’The mission is the mission. No need to harm the innocent.’

And because she knew him so well, she was certain he would be back.

"Impossible! We could never abandon you—"

Figxin held up a hand, silencing them. ’Pointless sacrifice is meaningless.’

’This isn’t some bandit cleanup operation; Ordinary Warriors will be useless.’

’If you want to use sheer numbers to overwhelm a Senior Professional, we don’t have nearly enough people. And I’m not worth so many sacrifices.’

She was not only the Lord of the Northern Domain, but also its undisputed greatest combatant.

"Follow my orders. First, gather everyone in the castle. We’ll assign areas. I’ll take the west side of the main keep’s third floor..."

As Figxin was assigning areas, the sound of the howling wind swept into the hall.

The order was given, and the Warriors sprang into action.

Besides Figxin and her guards, Winterfort housed many attendants, cooks, stable hands, and other support staff.

They were relatively easy to gather.

The problem was their children, many of whom also lived in the castle.

For some attendants, it was a life-long post. Their children would become attendants, as would their children’s children. The highest they could ever hope to be promoted was to steward.

They were forever confined within the high walls, while the nobility told them it was a profession to be proud of. Generation after generation lived in bondage.

"The new comics are here!" Figxin shouted as she walked.

The mischievous children would hide in all sorts of remote and secret corners, playing in their own little worlds, not to be seen until mealtime.

She had to find them all.

So she came up with a good idea: use the new comics to lure them out.

Hearing Figxin’s shout, little heads popped out from the most unexpected places.

"Sister Figxin!"

"You’re supposed to call her ’Lord’," a slightly older child corrected.

"Oh, Lord Figxin, where are the new comics?"

"It’s fine, just call me ’Sister’," Figxin said. She had tried to get the castle staff to stop addressing her as their master, but the steward had objected.

"Before you ask a question, bow to the Lord."

"The new comics are in the cellar. You’ll have to go get them yourselves," Figxin said, cutting off the children’s bows.

"Is everyone here?"

"Benny’s not here. But he said he was hungry and went to the kitchen early to wait for food."

Figxin felt a little relieved. ’If he’s in the kitchen, someone else must have found him.’

The children cheered and scampered off toward the cellar.

Figxin felt something cold on her cheek. She reached up and touched it—a snowflake, drifting in through a window.

The snow had begun to fall.

The women and children were all hidden in the cellar, with the Personal Guard standing watch outside as ordered.

In the castle’s great hall, only Figxin, Zete Mage, and Gelda remained.

Although Gelda usually handled administrative duties, she was in fact a skilled Mage from the Plastic Energy School. Her specialty was frost, a fitting discipline for the Northern Domain.

Oh, and Mr. Camera was there, too. Its shape was so human-like that Figxin had gotten into the habit of calling it "Mister."

"Can you be of any help?" Figxin asked the camera casually.

There was no reply. The camera just stood there, motionless.

"I must be losing my mind, asking you that," Figxin said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I just hope you record everything that happens. Think of it as an ending for ’Forest Sea Snowfield’."

She then walked toward her two most familiar companions.

"It has been an honor serving with you both."

Old Zet looked nervous. He said nothing, only nodding. It had been too long since he had seen battle.

Gelda just smiled gently and was about to say something.

THUD! THUD!

The sound of powerful impacts came from beyond the main doors.

"Let’s proceed as planned."

Old Zet and Gelda ran to opposite sides.

Figxin hefted her War Axe, gripping it tightly.

The Protective Magic on the doors didn’t hold for long.

With a sharp cracking sound, the Protective Magic failed completely. The massive wooden bolt splintered under the force of the blows, and the great doors burst open. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

A bitter, cold wind flooded in.

Through the swirling snow stood a gunman, flanked by two five-meter-tall Bone Demons.

"Wish me luck."

Figxin whispered a prayer for herself.