One day before reaching the Northern city.

I noticed that the number of horse-drawn carriages of the caravan I was traveling in was drastically reduced. The slave trader, that noisy and annoying potbellied man had left for the west half a day ago.

It seems that he has business in the western region of the same country, I didn't know that the western kingdom of Rovarn was a major base for the slave trade. I should be careful if I have business there.

It would be really annoying to have people looking at me with disgusting eyes, sometimes I also wonder if I should cut open their head to see which neuron cells are firing. If it's directly connected to the crotch, then I'll definitely cut it off right then and there.

As I was thinking that, the caravan I was traveling in then stopped, my subordinate Roland then came over.

"Ms. White, there's something strange over there."

"I see."

Roland told me that he was an Anemo user. Although he mentioned that his abilities were not that great, but an Anemo user was still an elemental user, that was also the reason why he was appointed as the head of the mercenary group.

Roland with his sword then stood in front of me. Moving his hand to give a signal to the others.

The mercenaries around me went into fighting mode.

"I don't what it is, but there is a scent of blood here."

The white mist from the blizzard blocked our view, making it very difficult to see what was happening ahead.

Slowly, I began to pace. Passing through the fog with the mercenaries, looking down just below my black shoes, the red color of blood covered the clumps of snow. The scent of frozen blood spread and I'm sure everyone noticed.

"There."

Inside the thick fog, there were tons of half-destroyed horse-drawn carriages.

Each chariot had several swords stuck in it along with the heads of people I didn't recognize.

Black corpse-like shadows hung around the trees as if to show the newcomers that they would do the same to us.

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"How brutal."

Roland commented.

He then moved his left foot backward and right foot forward in a slashing position.

He then closed his eyes, at the same time a wave of wind blew then headed towards Roland as if he was the center point. Roland then whispered.

"Strong Wind."

Slash!

The sword slash created a vertical pattern among the white mist, from the vertical spaces that were freed from the mist then spread out in all directions to clear the mist surrounding us.

The rays of light from the sun then gave us a wider view, the mist completely dissipating.

For some reason, the people around me then dropped their weapons, every expression on their faces had the same pattern. It was an expression of fear.

"Monsters."

One of the mercenaries said that.

Looking in the direction of what everyone was looking at. I then discovered that the source of their fear came from a tree.

Due to winter, trees would usually lose their leaves and leave the trunk covered in snow.

But the big tree in front of there clearly had leaves or something that could be considered leaves by its makers.

The wind instantly blew.

The blood that was still liquid then dripped, hung upside down without having a head, the entire tree actually contained dozens of headless corpses.

The entrails remained but the curve of the collar bone seemed to be about to fall to the ground. The sunlight bounced off the shining collar bone, reminding me of the magnificent tree adorned by neon lights, a tree symbolizing celebration.

"Who did that, definitely not human."

"How could there be something like that in this world."

The pores inside the skin opened up, the cold temperature seeped in as everyone but me broke out in a sweat as their bodies couldn't say anything else while continuing to look at the beautiful tree.

Taking a chance in silence, I then took a step to get closer to the tree.

Instantly all eyes turned towards me, they didn't seem to understand what I wanted to do.

I ignored them and continued on my way.

"Wait Miss White."

Roland tried to stop me, but the footsteps couldn't be stopped at the moment.

Looking closer and then stopping, under the tree was a naked young man, his body not covered in clothes but only covered in a thick blood red color.

The man was probably just an ordinary employee who could be found anywhere. But there was one thing that was unique about the man, his face was covered by a mask made of human skin.

The human skin mask was from the tip of the hair to the neck and I also recognized the face that was made into the mask.

"Gustaf the merchant, so you've been trapped."

Gustaf left for the north a few days before me, the caravan he was traveling in carried at least 184 people along with armed mercenaries.

I glimpsed some battle marks like sword slashes or stabs, if there was a battle, with the number of mercenaries Gustaf brought, there should have been a big battle but I didn't see any corpses of the opponents who attacked them.

Did the opponent not get damaged? No, that's definitely not possible. Instead of thinking of the possibility of no casualties, it would be very plausible that the opponents who attacked Gustaf's caravan carried the corpses of their comrades, hmp... solid people.

In front of the corpse wearing Gustaf's face mask, I then crouched down. Touching Gustaf's rough skin with the gloves I was wearing.

Blood stains stuck to my fingertips, I then lifted the blood spot until it was level with my face, the blood then became hard and congealed.

"Roland."

I called out to my subordinate at the back. That person immediately approached me. He then showed a face of confusion.

"Ms. White, what do you want to do?"

Without paying attention, I then played with my hands, after finishing, I immediately lifted my hips and stood up.

Turned around and started asking him.

"Do you think it looks like a smile?"

Behind me, the corpse with Gustaf's face mask smiled wider and wider until its entire face looked torn.

A smiling face mask, a smile of happiness at the sight of death.

Roland who was watching what I was doing had quivering eyeballs, moving up and down between looking at me and the corpse.

Since he hadn't answered me until now, I now changed my question.

"Roland, what do you think of someone who always wears a smiling mask? A mask filled with blood to smile at death."

Unable to answer, Roland with a complicated expression could only remain silent as he watched the blood dripping from the slit of his wide lips, the smiling mask now looking so real.

The "person" was guessing my movements...