Morning arrived beneath a sky heavy with snow.

The extermination squad resumed its march shortly after dawn, and unlike previous days, very little conversation accompanied their journey — the discoveries made within the Frost Wolf territory lingered heavily in everyone’s minds, and even the apprentices had begun noticing the growing strangeness surrounding the expedition.

Several apprentices had unconsciously begun paying attention whenever Ethan studied something for longer than usual. None of them fully understood why. They simply knew that the Young Master had noticed several abnormalities before most of them had, and that habit had become increasingly difficult to ignore.

Ethan walked near the center of the formation, his boots leaving shallow impressions in the snow while his gaze continuously scanned the surrounding terrain. The Eternal Sovereign Blade rested comfortably at his waist, and beneath his cloak, aura circulated steadily through his circulation pathways, sharpening his awareness of the environment around him.

The deeper they traveled, the more obvious the abnormalities became. Tracks were growing scarce — not just monster tracks, but everything. Small animals, birds, wild beasts, entire portions of the forest appeared abandoned. At first glance the wilderness remained unchanged, snow-covered trees stretching endlessly in every direction with the occasional gust of wind rustling frozen branches overhead. Yet the life that should have existed within that wilderness was missing, and the absence itself had become impossible to ignore.

Ahead of the formation, Gareth rode calmly while periodically exchanging information with the scouts. His expression remained unchanged despite the unusual circumstances. A mystery was worth investigating, at least for now.

Near midday, a scout emerged from the forest and approached.

"Commander."

Gareth nodded. "Report."

"We found another abandoned territory. This one belonged to an Ice Lynx colony."

That immediately drew attention from the veterans. Ice Lynx were considerably more dangerous than Frost Wolves — fast, intelligent, and exceptionally difficult to track, they occupied the upper ranks among Wild Beasts throughout the region. The fact that they had abandoned their territory only strengthened the pattern emerging before the expedition.

Roland frowned. "No signs of battle?"

"None."

"No migration trail?"

The scout hesitated. "Not a clear one."

That answer spoke volumes. Predators did not simply vanish, and they certainly did not vanish repeatedly.

The expedition altered course and followed the scout deeper into the forest. Hours passed as the snowstorm gradually intensified — visibility worsened, the towering pines grew denser, and even the sunlight struggled to penetrate the canopy overhead. Several apprentices had unconsciously moved closer to the veterans without realizing it, the atmosphere itself pressing against them. Not because of danger. Because of uncertainty.

Eventually another scout appeared, his expression carrying obvious urgency this time. "We found something."

"What is it?" Gareth asked.

"A battlefield."

Silence followed. Then Gareth gave a simple nod. "Lead the way."

As they moved through the increasingly dense forest, Ethan felt a faint sense of anticipation building. The Frost Wolf graveyard had raised countless questions. This battlefield might finally provide answers — or perhaps raise even more.

Several hundred meters later, the trees abruptly opened.

The moment Ethan stepped into the clearing, his eyes narrowed. So did Gareth’s. So did every veteran knight present. Because scattered across the snow ahead lay corpses far larger than anything they had discovered previously.

The clearing stretched nearly a hundred meters across. Unlike the Frost Wolf graveyard, this battlefield had not yet been completely reclaimed by snow — the signs of conflict remained carved deeply into the frozen landscape. Trees had been shattered. Snowbanks had been torn apart. Long furrows scarred the ground where massive bodies had collided with enough force to reshape the terrain itself. This had not been a hunt. It had been a genuine battle.

The apprentices fell silent almost immediately. The creatures scattered throughout the clearing were far larger than Frost Wolves — far stronger, far more dangerous. One enormous corpse rested near the center of the battlefield, its snow-white fur stained crimson in several places, the body easily exceeding four meters in length.

An Ice Lynx. An Elite Beast — equivalent to a Great Knight in cultivation terms.

And it was dead.

Several more corpses lay nearby: another Ice Lynx, two Frost Wolves, a massive horned beast partially buried beneath the snow. The clearing resembled the aftermath of a genuine territorial confrontation, yet despite the scale of destruction, something felt strangely familiar to Ethan. The same pattern. The same impossible contradiction. The same unnatural efficiency.

Roland crouched beside the nearest corpse, brushed away accumulated snow, and examined the wound carefully. A moment later he released a low whistle. "One strike."

The surrounding apprentices stared. One strike against an Elite Beast wasn’t possible — even experienced Great Knights approached such creatures cautiously. Yet the wound told its own story: a single clean slash across the beast’s neck, no prolonged struggle, no repeated attacks.

"The same here," Owen called from another corpse across the clearing, his expression growing more serious.

The veterans spread throughout the battlefield, and every discovery produced the same conclusion. Whatever creature had fought here wasn’t hunting for food. It was eliminating competitors. Predators killed to survive. This felt deliberate in a way that survival alone didn’t explain.

Gareth walked slowly through the battlefield, his gaze sweeping across every detail — broken trees, corpse locations, tracks, disturbed snow patterns. Years of experience allowed him to reconstruct the conflict piece by piece. Eventually he stopped near the center and his eyes settled on the largest corpse present: an enormous Ice Lynx Alpha whose body alone radiated the remnants of considerable power. Even it had fallen. The wound across its throat was precise. Almost surgical.

As an Earth Knight, Gareth had little reason to fear whatever was responsible. But curiosity was a different matter. The intelligence displayed throughout this battlefield was becoming increasingly difficult to dismiss as mere instinct.

Meanwhile, Ethan continued examining the surroundings. The memories of his previous life surfaced briefly — monster territories, predator hierarchies, power struggles, patterns he had witnessed countless times throughout the Northern Frontier. Yet something still didn’t fit. The scale was wrong. The creature responsible should have left obvious signs behind. A Dire Beast, a Beast Lord, something large and powerful. Instead—

"Commander."

A scout’s voice interrupted his thoughts. Everyone turned. The man knelt near the northern edge of the battlefield, examining something in the snow.

The veterans approached immediately. Several moments later, Ethan arrived as well.

The moment he saw the tracks, his eyes narrowed.

Again.

The same tracks. Small. Light. Almost delicate. Belonging to something no larger than a medium-sized dog — perhaps smaller. And they were even fresher than before, leading directly through the battlefield, past the dead Frost Wolves, past the dead Ice Lynx, past every corpse, as though the creature responsible had simply walked away after the battle ended.

"That’s impossible," one apprentice said quietly.

No one corrected him. Because everyone present was thinking the same thing. The tracks belonged to something young. Yet the battlefield belonged to something powerful. Those two truths should not have coexisted, and yet they did — the evidence made that undeniable.

A cold wind swept across the clearing. Snow drifted through the air. Nobody spoke for a long moment.

As the veterans continued studying the scene, none of them noticed the distant figure hidden among the dense trees overlooking the clearing.

A pair of brilliant blue eyes watched silently from the shadows. The creature remained perfectly still, its silver-white fur blending naturally with the snow-covered landscape and rendering it nearly invisible beneath the falling snow. A faint wound stretched across its left flank — not serious, but painful. Every movement caused a dull ache to spread through its body, and it had been careful to stay downwind.

Its attention was fixed upon the humans below. More specifically upon one of them — the dark-haired boy standing near the black blade.

The creature didn’t understand why it kept returning. Every instinct said humans were dangerous. Humans hunted. Humans killed. Yet whenever its gaze settled on the boy, those instincts grew uncertain in a way that simple wariness didn’t explain. Confused. Which only made it continue watching.

For several moments the young creature remained hidden. Then pain flared from its wound again, and instinct finally prevailed. Its ears flattened slightly, and without sound it retreated, vanishing into the endless snowfall.

Far below, Ethan paused. A faint sensation brushed against his awareness — so brief he almost missed it. His head turned immediately toward the distant tree line. The forest stood silent and empty. Nothing remained. Yet the feeling of being watched had suddenly become much stronger, and it took a conscious effort to look away.

-----

The return journey to camp was noticeably quieter than usual. Even the apprentices who had spent most of the expedition exchanging theories found little to say after witnessing the battlefield. Dead Elite Beasts. Impossible tracks. A mystery that seemed to grow stranger with every discovery. The Northern Frontier had always been dangerous, and danger was expected. What unsettled people was the unknown, and today had provided far too many unanswered questions.

As evening approached, Gareth selected a defensible clearing partially sheltered from the increasingly powerful winds. The camp was established with the same efficiency as before, though Ethan noticed several subtle changes — additional guards, wider patrol routes, more frequent perimeter checks. Not because Gareth was alarmed, but because uncertainty demanded caution. A competent commander prepared for possibilities.

By the time darkness settled across the wilderness, snow was falling heavily once again. The campfires burned brightly against the endless white landscape, casting orange light across tents, supply wagons, and resting soldiers. Beyond that small circle of light, the forest disappeared into darkness.

Ethan sat near the edge of the camp after finishing his evening meal. Most of the apprentices remained near the fires while the veterans discussed the day’s discoveries, Roland and Owen debating possible explanations for the abandoned territories without either sounding particularly convinced by their own theories.

Ethan paid little attention. His focus remained elsewhere — the Daily Mission was still incomplete.

A short distance beyond the camp’s perimeter, he drew the Eternal Sovereign Blade. The black weapon emerged silently from its sheath. Snow drifted through the darkness. Then Ethan moved.

The first vertical slash cut cleanly through the air. Another followed. Then another. Aura circulated steadily through his circulation pathways as the Northern Heaven War Art’s principles guided each movement — every slash flowing naturally into the next with practiced precision, no wasted effort, no unnecessary force. Only repetition and refinement.

Hundreds. Thousands. Tens of thousands of times across two lifetimes he had performed these same movements. Every slash represented another step forward, another attempt to surpass the limits that had once failed him.

Not far away, hidden beyond the reach of the campfires, a pair of brilliant blue eyes watched in silence.

The young creature had returned — drawn back despite its instincts, despite the wound still aching along its flank. It had settled beneath the shelter of a fallen tree, silver fur pressed flat against the snow, and its gaze was fixed on the dark-haired boy again.

The human moved in the same patterns as before. Again and again he repeated the same actions beneath the falling snow, each movement connecting to the next with a regularity that the creature couldn’t understand. Predators hunted. They rested. They didn’t repeat the same motions endlessly into the cold darkness for no visible purpose. The strangeness of it was almost as compelling as the strange pull it felt whenever it looked at him.

The wound throbbed again. The creature shifted slightly, adjusting its weight, and watched.

The memory of the Northern Collapse surfaced briefly within Ethan’s mind as he trained — burning fortresses, endless battlefields, faces he had been unable to save. The sensation lingered for only a moment before he forced it aside. Regret alone accomplished nothing. Only strength could change the future. Only strength could protect what mattered.

His blade continued moving. Steady. Relentless. Unyielding.

A familiar golden notification appeared before his eyes when he finally lowered the weapon.

-----

[Daily Mission Completed]

Reward:

• 3 Attribute Points

• 30 War Merit

-----

The notification vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Ethan sheathed the Eternal Sovereign Blade and released a slow breath. Another day. Another step forward.

As he turned toward the camp, a strange sensation washed over him without warning — subtle, fleeting, yet unmistakable. His head turned immediately toward the darkness beyond the tree line.

The snow continued falling. The forest remained silent, there was no movement not even any visible sign of anything.

And yet for a brief moment, the feeling of being watched was impossible to dismiss.

Hidden among the trees, the young creature froze. The boy had looked directly toward its hiding place. A sharp instinctive alarm surfaced immediately and, without hesitation, it retreated — silver fur dissolving into the darkness as the forest swallowed all traces of its presence.

Several moments later, Ethan finally looked away. Perhaps it had been his imagination. Perhaps not. Either way, by the time he returned to camp, whatever had been watching was already gone.

Far deeper within the Ancient Wildlands, moving silently through the endless snowfall, the young creature put distance between itself and the human camp. Its wound ached. Its instincts remained uneasy.

Yet despite all of that, the image of the strange human with the black blade refused to leave its memory.