CHAPTER 6

Finding himself in such a ridiculous situation, Silas swallowed his shock. His mind raced as he scanned his surroundings in confusion. His heartbeat quickened the more he turned his head, but there was no mistake about it—he was definitely in the middle of a vast, snow field.

This can't be right. What... why... ha!

Just moments ago, he had been inside one of the temple's rooms, standing guard over the mages' staff.

How did I end up here? The thought spiraled in his mind, a tangle of confusion and uncertainty. Am I in the North? That's the only place I know where it snows. I was sure I was with Hugh... How did this happen?

Silas ransacked his already chaotic mind. The only explanation that seemed remotely plausible was that the mage's staff had somehow transported him to the North. But even that didn’t make sense. The staff doesn’t have a mind of its own. It wouldn’t just teleport me somewhere without reason.

"Right... Hugh!" Silas shouted, his voice shattering the wintry silence. Yet, even his shout seemed muffled in the vast emptiness. He scanned the horizon, turning his head over and over, hoping to catch sight of another person. But no matter how many times he looked, there was no sign of anyone. No tracks in the snow. No movement. Just him. Just the biting cold and the endless white.

He was alone.

A conflicted feeling churned in his chest. No one would want to be alone in his situation, but part of him felt a strange relief that it was only him who seemed to have been transported.

But something gnawed at him. It was impossible that he had been teleported all the way to the North. Even if someone had secretly used the staff, it didn’t make sense. Infanta was in the South, and it would take almost three weeks of carriage travel to reach the North. He had never heard of any teleportation magic capable of such a feat. The most skilled mages in the palace could only teleport within a province—never such a vast distance.

Silas furrowed his brow as he glanced at the endless field of snow and the dark forest beyond. He wanted to stay put, hoping he might suddenly be teleported back, but he knew he’d freeze to death if he did. After a moment’s contemplation, he had no choice but to begin trudging through the snow, heading toward the white forest. He had no idea what awaited him there, but standing still in the endless white, wondering if it would ever end, seemed worse.

The hem of his robe, now soaked, clung to him as he stumbled through the calf-deep snow. Each breath came out sharp and labored, the cold gnawing at his very bones. By the time he reached the forest’s edge, his body trembled uncontrollably. Thankfully, the snow here was thinner, likely due to the trees' leaves catching it.

Looking around, Silas spotted a large leaf covered in snow. Without hesitation, he yanked it from the tree, shook off the snow, and tore a hole in one end before folding it into a makeshift cloak. Not quite satisfied, he grabbed another and draped it over himself. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing, offering some protection against the biting wind.

Fire. I need to make a fire.

Survival instincts kicked in, and Silas began gathering wood, occasionally breathing on his hands to warm them. It seemed like a viable plan—until he remembered that he needed dry wood, something nearly impossible to find with snow blanketing the ground. But there was no other choice. He had to keep searching for it; giving up meant freezing to death.

After nearly half an hour of searching, Silas found a few thick branches buried deep in the soil, just enough to start a fire. It wasn’t much—most of the wood was soaked—but he’d rather have a small flame now than risk freezing while searching for more.

Silas cleared a patch on the forest floor, his hands trembling and nearly blue as he struck stones together, trying to ignite the tinder he had made by peeling some wood. He couldn’t even remember how he managed to do it, his fingers stiff and numb from the cold, but he was thankful they still moved. He had gathered enough to start a fire. Minutes later, faint signs of a flame appeared, and he blew on it with shaky breaths. When the fire finally flared to life, he let out a sigh of relief and slumped down onto a large leaf he had used to protect himself from the snow-covered soil. Tossing the few branches of wood onto the fire, he inched closer to its warmth, uncaring if the makeshift cloak caught fire. At this point, the cold would kill him first.

As the warmth began to thaw his frozen limbs, Silas considered digging the soil, risking his numb fingers to gather more wood. He wanted to rest, but his mind refused to settle, overwhelmed with thoughts of his situation. His anxious gaze swept over the forest once again.

The sky above was still bright, but the thick canopy of trees cast long, deep shadows, letting only a sliver of light reach the forest floor. The white trees towered over him, their trunks unfamiliar, their leaves strange in shape.

Where am I?

Am I really in the North?

How did I end up here?

Did someone use the staff to bring me here?

His mind was filled with questions, but there was no one around to answer them. He didn’t even know what to do next. If this was all just a prank, he would rather be laughed at than left to freeze in the middle of nowhere. But no matter how much he searched, no one appeared, and no answers magically presented themselves.

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Letting out a tired sigh, Silas pondered his next move. He briefly considered climbing one of the towering trees to get a better vantage point, but the snow-covered bark looked dangerously slippery. He feared slipping and falling. As much as he wanted to find someone, his safety had to come first.

After warming up slightly by the fire, Silas stood, determined to keep moving. He gathered more wood and dried it by the flames. While waiting, he reinforced his makeshift cloak with more large leaves, wrapping them tighter around his body. He even covered his boots with leaves, creating a crude barrier against the cold ground. By the time he was finished, he resembled an insect, covered in leaves from head to toe. But he didn’t care how ridiculous he looked. Survival came first.

Before setting off again, Silas paused for a few more moments to bask in the fire’s warmth. He gathered the stones he had used earlier, ensuring he had materials to start another fire later if his torch went out. He then gathered the dried wood he had collected, tying it with a long leaf and slinging it over his back. With a final deep breath, he stepped forward, deeper into the forest.

He had no idea what time it was, but Silas knew if he wanted to find someone who could help, he had to move quickly—before nightfall. Worst case, he might encounter a monstrum along the way. That is if he is in the North. If not, who knows what awaited him in such expanse.

With his safety and survival in mind, Silas pushed himself harder, walking faster despite his exhaustion. It was a relief that he had made a torch; though it wasn’t enough to warm his whole body, it provided much-needed warmth to keep him from freezing.

The woods seemed endless, but Silas refused to give up. Then, hours passed, and the sky darkened. That wasn’t a good sign. Silas had yet to find anyone, let alone get out of the forest.

Damn. Should I continue or rest for the night? Can I survive the cold? I’ve never been in the north, but I’ve heard that the nights were twice as cold as the days. If I want to survive, I need to prepare early.

Though still uncertain about his decision, Silas opted to rest and create shelter.

Another pressing matter was that he had no food. Thankfully, his water canister was still with him—a habit he always maintained in case he needed to hydrate while healing patients. He had even filled it to the brim before leaving, ensuring he wouldn’t die of thirst. At least with that, he could drink.

Silas relied on what he’d learned during his time in the forest when he went to Leanidine. Though he could sleep on the ground, two reasons kept him from doing so. First, he wasn’t sure how well he could endure the cold. Second, he didn’t know what kind of nocturnal predators might prowl the area. With that in mind, his eyes scanned the trees above, searching for a thick branch he could climb with his meager strength and abilities. After a moment, he settled on one that was high enough to be out of reach of predators and thick enough for him to sleep and lay on.

Silas spent the next few hours gathering more wood and large, thick leaves. He connected the leaves somewhat, using all of the resources he could find and tied them together. He removed his makeshift cloak and the leaves from his shoes, deciding he’d try climbing without removing his shoes, though he knew it would be difficult.

Carefully, Silas climbed the tree, his nails scraping against the bark as he sought to secure a grip. On his first attempt, he clung for a few seconds but ultimately slid back down. On the second try, he lasted a little longer, but when he attempted to climb higher, he failed again. A growl of frustration escaped him, the cold seeping into his bones effortlessly. Realizing he needed to hurry, he removed his shoes, gritting his teeth against the numbing cold of the ground. His bare feet gave him better traction on the bark, but even then, he couldn’t get higher than a meter off the ground.

Time passed, and the cold intensified as the darkness crept closer. Silas couldn’t afford to waste any more time. With cold hands but eyes burning with determination, he wound up and jumped higher, clinging to the tree. Each movement was deliberate, ensuring a firm grip before moving on. His efforts, though exhausting, were finally rewarded.

When he reached the lowest branch, he collapsed onto it, gasping for breath. Looking down, he realized the ground was at least five meters below. The branch was thick and strong enough to support him, offering a much-needed respite from the cold and danger below.

His problem now was the wind.

After catching his breath, Silas willed his meager Aura into a long whip. His specialty was healing, so his Aura manifested weakly, looking as though it would dissipate any moment. But it was enough for the job.

He directed the whip to fetch the materials from the ground below, carefully controlling it as it coiled around the prepared materials and pulled them up to the safety of the branch. Once the task was done, he donned his makeshift cloak again and started a fire, taking great care not to let the flames catch on the tree. Afterward, he cleared the remaining snow and laid out thick leaves to create a bed, ensuring it would offer some comfort against the cold.

When everything was finally set, Silas let out a weary breath and looked up at the sky. It was already dark, and the cold wind seeped into his bones despite the cloak. He huddled closer to the fire, pulling the makeshift garment tighter around him, and prayed to the high being to watch over him. He didn’t want to die in an unknown land, and he was determined to do whatever it took to survive. But even so, a lingering sense of hopelessness gnawed at him.

Now that darkness had fully claimed the sky, fear crept in whenever his gaze wandered beyond the circle of light the fire provided. The areas beyond the reach of the flames seemed... different. The darkness itself felt unfamiliar, almost dangerous.

He wondered what lay beyond the forest, but at the same time, he didn’t want to know.

With clenched jaws, Silas spent the night with sleep eluding him despite his physical and mental exhaustion. His mind was restless, anxious about what lurked in the darkness. And even though there had been no signs of any animals or creatures earlier, that fact alone only fueled his doubt.

Suddenly, an ominous feeling washed over him. His instincts kicked in, and his body moved without thought. He quickly smothered the fire, extinguishing it with the snow he had set aside. Moving cautiously in the darkness, he pulled the large leaves he had hung earlier, draping them to form a curtain, concealing both himself and his location. Then, he shoved his makeshift bed closer to the trunk , slipping underneath it and covering himself with thick layers of leaves, doing his best to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. With the oppressive silence of the night pressing in around him, he surrendered to the stillness, waiting.

It was then that he heard it—a sound unlike any he had encountered before. Though it seemed distant, the shriek of a creature pierced the stillness. He had never heard anything like it, but he knew one thing for sure.

That’s a predator.

R E H I L I Y A