The northerners have their own customs and culture. At the first drop of snow, a bell rang throughout the entire town. The town consisted of only 50-plus families, with each family typically having 6 to 10 warriors.

The scouts were different; they were specially selected from birth. Only around 8 of the families would have a scout among them, and the scout's training was very rigorous.

Sometimes, unforeseen casualties would occur, something that the northerners accepted, or perhaps even embraced. They are considered to be the toughest on the continent.

<--->

Simon woke up to the bell and walked outside his quarters. It was the first time he had his own room, so he felt a bit strange, but after a few days, he was already accustomed to it.

His room was on the walls. He grabbed some clothes as he had been sleeping half-naked. Percival had gifted him two fur coats made from bear fur.

These large bears were found in the mountains east of the northern walls. Sometimes, a bear that was near death would come down seeking its end. Other warriors claimed that Percival's wolf pelt was a much tougher opponent.

Unlike the bears, the large wolf pelt that Percival was wearing was from a Pyre Wolf. This wolf is intelligent and mutated, unlike its normal counterparts (Timber Wolves). It doesn't hunt in packs and is always a loner.

This wolf would typically inhabit areas near Pyre ores, so finding and tracking them could lead to discovering pyre ore deposits.

The scouts in training rose early, a deliberate choice by the seasoned veterans to expose them to the first chill of the day. Half-naked, the recruits gathered in the plaza, while the seasoned warriors, unfazed by the cold, engaged in casual conversation.

The scouts spotted Simon and waved him over. “Hey, kid! Strip down and join us for a cold air bath!” It was an old man. Percival who had just gone out of the house and had run into the plaza half naked too, he was really sociable.

As snowflakes began to drift down, conversations turned to the town's readiness—the storage, defenses against the spikes—all ahead of the looming full moon just three days away.

“Hey, Simon! We're throwing the rookies in for a warm-up! You in?” Percival tapped Simon, almost sending him off balance.

“Count me in!” Simon replied, eager to join.

“This kid's something else. Blind, yet he moves like a pro,” remarked one of the veterans. Simon’s dedication to the morning training sessions had left the scouts and warriors thoroughly impressed. The rookies, however, weren't quite as enthusiastic.

“Alright, let's dive into the Percii 4 Quick Special!” announced one of the seasoned men.

It involved a series of rapid-fire muscle exercises followed by a four-minute break, repeated four times. “Oh, man... Percival's really putting us through it,” “Ugh, this is brutal!”' The group echoed various complaints.

<--->

A few days passed and as per a planned schedule, a group of humans were out there in the Desolated Lands with only ice trees and hills decorating the fields. A group of roughly two dozen people trudged through the snow, donned in white fur coats and elf boots designed to keep them from sinking into the snow. These boots, enchanted by elves or the forest folks, were a lifesaver in these harsh conditions.

“We're nearly there. Follow my lead closely; our safety depends on it,” Andy, one of the elite scouts tasked with patrolling the wall's surroundings, cautioned the group.

Their mission was perilous but vital for the wall's defense. Scouts would always move in pairs. They scouted the area meticulously. Percival, a former scout himself, teamed up with Andy to guide the others.

“I can smell it now,” Percival remarked, the air thick with the pungent scent of decay.

Andy led the way with cautious steps, moving slowly and quietly. At times, he would halt abruptly, as if hiding from an unseen threat. Despite being far from the safety of the walls, they remained visible in the distance.

“If you ever find yourself alone out here with them, remember this: they don't have keen eyesight. As long as you're wearing camouflage, you'll blend in. See that hill to my left? Look closely,” Andy instructed.

There were a few black figures, but the snow blurred them from afar. “Those are their scouts,” Percival explained, gesturing toward the distant shapes. “They look for valuable sources of food. Once a scout returns successfully, they'll launch an attack to pillage.” It was a group of three spikes.

“The horde hunts down deer. I once saw them try to hunt wolves, but they failed,” Percival added.

“If you're going to kill them, make sure you take out the whole group of three, or you'll be in trouble,” Andy warned. He waved to Percival, who began moving away from the group. “As an example, we'll try to eliminate them.”

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The group climbed to higher ground as Andy commanded them to stay put, anticipating the movement of the spikes downhill. “Watch and learn,” Andy said. The two scouts, Andy and Percival, exchanged nods before descending the hill.

The two positioned themselves to anticipate where the spike would run. It was a methodical attack; they threw iron spikes, and the two spikes fell, leaving the last one confused about the source of the attack. Andy finished off the last one.

“Subtle, not like how you would do it,” Afara suddenly said, with Simon beside him.

“...I'd kill it with a water blade... probably could burst its neck with a wind knife,” Simon guessed. “But I could try doing what they did and do it the scout way,” Simon finished.

“I would blast the hell out of them even before the battle becomes melee... they look disgusting... I wonder if there is any usable part on them?” It was Gallo, another boy who was chilling and already had a runny nose. He was writing something on a piece of paper.

The forest folk and the adventurers thought the two boys were really weird.

<--->

A few more spike scouts were successfully killed by Andy and Percival. Sometimes they would let others handle the third one, but still had assurance in case the others failed, as they watched the action with much care. It was Simon’s turn.

“Don’t bother cutting its tails... go right through its heart... hold this, kid. I don’t know why Percival brought two kids here. This place is not for you,” Andy said as he handed a long iron pike to Simon.

“You’ve been away far too long, Andy. When are you going back home?” Percival asked.

“No shit... it has been busy after you left... you'll have to pay me for my vacation, ha! Ulra is waiting for me at home,” Andy replied with humor.

The explanation was brief but repeated every time someone attempted the hunt.

The heart was located in the abdomen. The head was very small, and the neck sturdy. They said that even if you tried to cut its neck, a normal human wouldn’t have enough force to cut through it in one swing; it would usually take two to four swings.

“Stay low, strike sure... we've got your back in case you fail,” Percival advised Simon.

“I understand,” the kid nodded. He was now in hunting mode. It was the same strategy: find scouts, cut off their escape, and completely kill all three of them. They left the party in training on another hill, using their coats as camouflage. The place was a safe spot.

<--->

The wind blew, frigid air of the north would chill down hot coffee in a few minutes. The desolated land was white, two silhouettes of humans huffing together to make their bodies warmer.

Another team of scouts was working in the area that day, comprising about four members. Their task was to continuously monitor the movement of the horde and report back using birds. They had just finished scouting a group of hordes on the far west side of the wall.

“Damn it, Bibs got his vacation. Too bad for Andy; he has to babysit,” one of the scouts muttered in a low voice.

“Shit happens. They should be close by. The participants should be terrified, eh? Although this place looks like heaven... it's literally hell here,” remarked another, noting the irony of the snow whitening the field like a blanket of clouds, while black spikes lurked everywhere.

The other scout nodded in understanding, and they both sighed. After resting for a while, they started to detect a foul odor. They exchanged nods; it was time to get to work.

It was just a short walk, following the familiar scent of something like salt and a tinge of blood. They used the hills and terrain to cover their movements, dressed in their customary white scout suits. As they approached a burrow suspected to be a nest, they were met with a shocking sight.

“Holy shit... what the hell happened here?!” one of them exclaimed. The area was littered with Spike corpses, many with smashed or severed heads.

Their grotesque faces conveyed horror, and some even bore expressions of solemnity. Though not human, the scouts could still identify the terror on the faces of some of the corpses.

“But they should be around here, right? We're supposed to recon at point 45, damn it!” The two were instantly worried. Failing to scout properly could result in some of the most devastating effects. They immediately crouched down as they heard footsteps in the snow, a sound they were very familiar with.

“Hey,” but it was a familiar face—it was Andy, his boots bloody. The other two scouts ran toward him, embracing Andy.

“You're not a ghost! What the hell happened here?” one of the scouts was emotional. Andy was considered one of the most elite scouts, and his trust and contributions were highly valued. He was the one who predicted the siege.

“I don't know how to explain it... but let me start from the beginning. Follow me. We might have just found a glimmer of hope.” Andy said as he recalled what he saw a few hours earlier.

<--->

A few hours earlier. Just beside a bulging hill of snow. A scout; Andy panicking and looking around.

“Where's the kid?” Andy exclaimed, noticing signs of struggle and a bit of blood. He wasn't sure if it was from the kid or the spike Simon was targeting. The plan was the same but with three Pikes instead of two. They planned to attack all three simultaneously.

Percival, who had successfully dispatched one of the spikes, arrived at the scene. The spikes were spread out about 20 to 30 meters apart.

“Don't tell me... damn it, this is a mistake. The old man's going to visit me in the grave... but it's impossible!” Percival's face paled. He trusted Simon and couldn't help but feel worried.

Andy sighed in disappointment. He's just a kid. What was he thinking? If he was in his right mind, he wouldn't have trusted Percival's evaluation. Even the other kid didn't want to kill one hands-on. Simon must be brave or very stupid.

“We should move now. They'll be investigating,” Andy said, as the scent of blood filled the air. In the north, strong winds carried scents across the snow fields in winter.

A well-spilled blood... a discerning nod came from both of them, but then... “SCREEE...CH!!!!” a terrible sound, drawing nearer.

It was the first time in a long while, just as their predecessors described it—a signal the spikes sent when there was a threat grave enough to justify their annihilation. But the sound was muffled before reaching its crescendo.

They were close to what they call a colony of the spikes… there should be a recon team coming to their area they named Point 45… There are a total of 5 mothers that sprouted in the field of the northern wall outside, a place that they called desolated land since only ice trees would grow there…

The colony at point 45 had been spotted two winters ago, making it around three years old.

The two scouts rushed to a decision: one would investigate and gather information, while the other would lead the group to safety and call for more scouts.

“I'll tell them to bring as much meat for distraction! Take care!” Andy said to Percival, who was staying behind. He wanted to confirm if Simon was alive, guilt gnawing at him for bringing him to the north.

“If I... just tell my family what happened,” Percival trailed off, the specter of death looming. The two of them shared a smile; Percival had been Andy's trainer.

“Let's do this,” Andy said, giving Percival a reassuring pat on the back.