Sun was hidden behind the clouds and swift winds howled across the sky. They were cold, freezing even, their temperature being far from what it was supposed to be during the late summer or early autumn. But, as if to accentuate the bizarre phenomenon, if one looked downwards at the ground below the cold sky, one would see white.

It was snow. The ground was entirely covered in the freezing, white powder, some of it occasionally being picked up by the passing winds, causing it to swirl before settling once more.

And yet, amidst such an unpleasant place, one could find warmth. An encampment stood like an unshakeable bulwark, a beacon of life. A faint song could be heard through the howling winds, thin trails of smoke rising up before being dispersed.

The encampment was by no means small, however. Dozens and hundreds of tents that could simultaneously house multiple people were scattered around seemingly chaotically, yet they had a certain kind of order to them. And within one of the larger tents that stood closer to the center of the camp, a woman sat on her knees. She had her eyes closed, as if dreaming, or being deep in meditation.

Her hair was starkly white like the snow that covered the land, and her skin was as pale as ice. She wasn't wearing furs, however, she was wearing what one would recognize as a sleeved shirt and jeans, far removed from the tribalistic and warm look one might expect.

The interior of a tent wasn't lacking either, a portable, visibly handmade, furnace exuded warmth as a fire burning within. A sleeping bag, various rugs, and even some small furniture were also present, adding a rather homely feel to the tent.

In the next moment, however, the atmosphere changed instantly, all due to a single action. The tent's resident opened her eyes.

They were of a frigid-blue color, complimenting her other features. She would be called pretty, cute even, if not for a single other detail. Her very eyes seemed to emanate cold and frost, and if anyone had been standing before the woman, they surely would have been shivering in the cold.

As if to make this worse, as soon as the woman awoke from whatever trance she was in, the entire tent got quite literally colder, the temperature dropping by a good few degrees. Frost could be seen materializing on the woman's clothes, also creeping on the rug beneath her.

All of it ended in a similar fashion to how it started, though.

"Haa..."

The woman exhaled, cold mist flowing out instead of warm air, before standing up. The frost that began forming instantly receded as if it was never there, not even leaving a trace of moisture behind. At the same time, the temperature of the dwelling returned to normal too.

As for the perpetrator of the whole phenomenon, she shook her head lightly in apparent dissatisfaction. She then spoke quietly.

"The Spirits of Ice are getting active yet again."

The woman then looked beyond the flap that led into her tent, as if seeing the howling winds and snow beyond it.

"...There's not much time until the next Dragon Wind."

The white-haired woman then went up to the small wardrobe that was present, quickly changing into clothes more suited to the harsh temperature outside. In the brief moment that her body was visible, however, many scars that sliced across her body could be seen. The woman herself avoided looking at them, but the single glance she gave them bore deep-seated anger and bloodlust. Whoever was the cause of these scars was clearly not liked by the woman.

After a few moments, she was adorned in a robe made of furs, now closer resembling a typical image of a settler of the far North.

With that being done, the pale woman walked out of her tent with a confident gait.

What greeted her sight was a rather cheerful scene, a giant campfire surrounded by makeshift benches made out of tree logs. Near the benches were tables made in similar fashion, and most were covered with a 'roof' made of cloth, preventing any rain or snow from covering them. And all of this was filled with people.

Men and women dressed in warm clothes were singing together as they sat around the fire, some of them also being visibly drunk. At the same time a giant, cow-like animal was being roasted on a rotisserie, a pleasant smell wafting out as it was slowly being cooked.

The woman raised her eyebrow at the sight. The place was rather quiet when she began her meditation. She turned towards one of the older men and shouted.

"Oi, Kelman! What's going on and why was I not invited?"

The frigid image around the woman shattered as everyone suddenly turned their heads to the loud voice that overshadowed the whole celebration. It was not because her voice was ethereal or enchanting, not at all.

It was just that fucking loud.

The man that was called, Kelman, cowered momentarily, before smiling and responding in turn.

"...Ingrid! Nice of you to join us! We were setting up bets on whether you will sit this one through or not."

True to his words, several of the members of the crowd suddenly had downcast looks, and others were instead unusually excited.

Kelman though had Ingrid's intense gaze bore into him, making him cough awkwardly before continuing.

"Ahem! Well, the hunters caught a big one, so..."

As the woman's gaze grew ever more frightening, causing him to sweat in cold weather, he gave in and shouted.

"Agh, fine! No one has the guts to disturb your meditation anymore! You nearly froze the last guy who tried to!"

Ingrid's pressure lessened, allowing him to breathe freely yet again. And while he was desperately gasping for breath, she walked past him amidst the silent crowd. She talked as she walked.

"...He would have been fine if he tried to do so with a purpose other than to peek on me."

Amidst the silence, she walked up to the Beast that was being cooked and took a knife out of her robe. With a swift motion, a slice of meat soon found itself in her mouth. She then looked back and spoke loudly as she chewed.

"Why so silent, you oafs? Eat up, I will cover your drinks today!"

This statement instantly caused the crowd to break out in cheers, the previously oppressive atmosphere nowhere to be found. She smiled lightly, as this was a frequent occurrence. The people knew that she didn't like to be venerated, so they did the whole 'fearful silence' thing to coax drinks out of her.

Nevertheless, she had things more important than celebrating to do.

Ingrid walked out of the very center of the camp, where the gathering spot was situated. Her destination was the periphery of the encampment, as maintaining the things there was the major part of her duty. She walked past the trampled snow, which was more familiar to her than dirt at this point.

She passed tents of various sizes, though they tended to get smaller and smaller as she neared the camp's edge. Almost every single one was unique though, having personal touches. Some had pictures woven into them, some had 'chimneys' made specifically for making a fire inside of them. Hell, she even saw one that had a second floor. She knew the woman that made it though, and this tent was one of her less bizarre creations.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Still, this was not the time for friendly visits, Ingrid had work to do.

Finally, she reached the part where the last, the smallest tents stood. Beyond those single-person dwellings rather bizarre structures stood. At first glance, they looked like simple pylons made of ice, but on a closer look, it became apparent that they were carvings of various things. Some were birds, others Beasts. Some even depicted human visages, often depicting some deity or the other.

Most interestingly, sweeping winds and whirling clusters of snow could be seen beyond them, but none made it past the icy statues. It was as if some invisible wall separated the outside from the inside.

Ingrid didn't pay any attention to their design or the storm beyond the pylons though, instead searching for something else as she ran her hand across one of the statues.

"...This one's not too bad. Still, some cracks are already setting in."

She found what she was seeking, a multitude of small cracks running through the pylon she was touching. As soon as she did, a pale-blue glow appeared briefly beneath her fingers, and the cracks swiftly began to disappear. It all happened in less than 10 seconds.

"Alright, onto the next."

Ingrid repeated the set of actions on the next icy pylon statue that stood a couple dozen meters away. Cracks were found and sealed, followed by her moving to the next statue. Again and again.

This was the most tedious part of her job in Ingrid's opinion, but there was no one else to do it otherwise.

As she was walking towards another structure, her brows furrowed, as it was covered in cracks, looking on the verge of collapse. Additionally, winds occasionally blew into the camp through the space near the pylon. Several of the tents already looked insecure, their residents watching Ingrid from a distance as if waiting for her.

"...What caused this Ward to get damaged so badly? This doesn't look like Spirit Depletion. I swear... If someone hit it while drunk..."

While Ingrid grumbled, she nonetheless continued on with the routine, but this time she had to spend more time and effort to repair the Ward.

As soon as she was finished, the storm was once again sealed off beyond the barrier, calm and relative warmth returning to this part of the encampment. Under the grateful gazes of the residents, Ingrid moved on once more.

Ward after Ward got restored to their prime state, and soon she was fixing the last one. With yet another glimmer of light, the ice became whole once more. Ingrid wiped her sweat as she leaned on the Ward momentarily, ignoring the cold of it completely.

As she was resting though, a distant rumble caught her ear.

At first, she tensed, thinking it was the sound of a herd of Beasts, but as she listened further she relaxed once more. This was a familiar, artificial rumble.

It grew closer and closer, and by that point, it was clearly recognizable. It was the roaring of engines. A sound that was all the more pleasant amidst the unending screams of the winds.

As seconds passed, the source of the sound soon revealed itself. A column of vehicles appeared from beyond the hill on the horizon. It was a mix of jeeps, pickup trucks, and a couple of other, smaller vehicles.

Seeing them, Ingrid walked toward a particularly big pair of Wards. When the column was about a hundred meters away from her, she waved her hand. Invisible something disappeared, and the raging winds immediately rushed through the gap.

The vehicles arrived mere seconds after, being covered in frost and snow. People, that were for any reason on their exterior, all wore much heavier clothing, scarves and goggles covering their faces.

Once the last vehicle rolled past Ward's barrier, Ingrid swept her hand once again, and the winds stopped as the invisible barrier reappeared. Ingrid soon turned around and saw people jumping down or climbing out of the cars, and a crowd, which was attracted by the commotion, was greeting them in turn.

The welcome... Was quite loud, as was the nature of the people that lived here.

They gathered around the returnees, some looking at what the convoy brought with them. Most things were covered, but Beastly bodies could be seen here and there, and the Spirits told Ingrid that some of the convoy's cargo was rather valuable.

"Haha! You bastards are alive!"

"Alsey, don't think I forgot that you owe me!"

"Come, let us show you a proper welcome!"

Though words and intentions were mixed, they were mostly joyful. But not everyone was like this. Some members among the gathered desperately looked and searched the returnees' faces, and some stood solemnly or broke down in tears.

Not everyone had come back.

As for Ingrid herself, she came up to a man who had ashen hair, but similarly colored blue eyes and angular facial features. As she languidly came up to him, he also noticed her. Ingrid greeted him with a smile.

"Welcome back, brother. Are you well?"

"I am, Ing, I am."

He too smiled in turn, but it didn't escape Ingrid's notice that he had a rather tired look on his face.

"...Have you encountered anything worrisome on the way?"

Her brother stared in the distance, seemingly deep in thought, not responding.

"Brother? Brother."

Seeing that he didn't respond, Ingrid came up to him and grabbed him by the ear, speaking in a higher voice.

"Emil, answer properly when your sister asks you something!"

This quickly snapped Emil out of his thoughts, as he spoke while in pain.

"Ow, ow, ow! Please stop!"

Only then did Ingrid let him go, causing Emil to sigh. This was far from the first time she had done this. He quickly recovered and put a rather serious look on his face.

"...We encountered the Outriders."

As soon as he spoke the last word, Ingrid's aura suddenly flared. Freezing cold and bloodlust began to spread with her as a center, and Emil himself soon found frost forming on his clothes. He quickly tapped her shoulder.

"Calm down, Ingrid! Snap out of it!"

Just as quickly as Ingrid's emotions burst out, they were calmed down. The scowl that found its way onto her face was nowhere to be seen as she now seemed aloof.

"...I'm sorry, please continue."

Emil merely sighed deeply at the sight. He knew the reasons behind her hatred, he shared them even, but she never seemed to get her emotions under control. Not that he could blame her, not after what happened to them.

"They ambushed the convoy when we searched the ruins... Eric and Mark didn't make it. They also tried to kidnap Fari, but we killed the bastards before they succeded."

As he was speaking, he felt the pressure around his sister become colder and heavier yet again. Nevertheless, he continued his report.

"I think they are a part of a larger band of looters. Some of them got away so... We will need to move soon."

Ingrid remained silent for a good minute. In the meantime, the welcoming celebrations seemed to tune down as other people either noticed Ingrid's expression or received information from other members of the convoy. Ingrid then turned her gaze towards her brother yet again, as she muttered just a few words.

"...The Dragon's Wind is coming soon."

Although the words were pretty quiet, they seemed to be louder than anything else. Ingrid didn't particularly try to hide what she was saying, but those gathered near immediately had their expressions turn nervous and sour.

"The Dragon's Wind? We will be buried under the snow if we remain!"

"Shame... I thought this spot was quite nice."

"Does it mean we are moving again?"

Ingrid then seemed to want to add something else, but she suddenly fell to her knees as she clutched her head.

"Auugh!"

She screamed out, as she seemed to be in pain. Emil immediately rushed towards her, catching her before she could fall to the ground. He immediately asked her in worry.

"Ingrid?! What's the matter, talk to me!"

Yet he found no answer as his sister convulsed in his arms, her eyes rolled back in her skull. She seemed to be in great agony with no apparent cause, his worries and anxiousness growing with each passing moment. The onlookers and other worried people also sent worried looks, but none dared to come close. All were staring at the Halberd that was on Emil's back. They had a premonition that if they dared to near the vulnerable woman, they would be cut down where they stood.

Seconds felt like hours to Emil, and eventually, his sister calmed down in his arms. She seemed to be unconscious, but tears streamed down her face. Despite waiting for another good minute, she showed no sign of waking up. So Emil picked her up in his hands, before walking into the camp. None dared follow.

He soon came to their tent, and gently laid her down on her sleeping bag. After that, he sat down... And waited. He did not do anything else. He waited, while his halberd rested on his knees.

Hours passed, but to him, they felt like days. He continued waiting, saying only a single sentence under his breath.

"Don't leave me, sister... You are all that I have left."

And after that, he waited. The sun that was in its zenith had now descended beyond the horizon, only the night of darkness and the howling winds remaining outside. Most of the camp was sleeping at this point, but Emil waited with bloodshot eyes. He was tired from the long journey, but there were things more important than mere sleep.

Suddenly, a change he was waiting for happened. His sister's eyelids shivered before her eyes slowly opened.

"....Brother...?"

Her voice was weak as if her entire strength was sapped from her. Despite resting for so long she seemed... Tired. Even more so than Emil.

"I'm here Ing, I'm here."

He clasped her hands, and she grasped him in a vice-grip.

Ingrid remained like this for a while, lying down, while looking at the tent's ceiling. She then broke the silence with a voice as quiet as a mouse.

"Khan... Khan is dead..."

"What?"

These words confused Emil and for a good reason.

"You mean that Khan? But he died back.... back then."

Ingrid didn't answer for a moment. All of a sudden, she sat up, and a frigid look, far colder than what Emil had seen before, found itself in her eyes.

"They... Murdered him..."

Emil didn't say anything, being somewhat afraid of his own sister, even though he didn't want to, his body was fearing her instinctually.

"I... Felt it. I saw it... They sliced his throat... They tortured him..."

Emil finally forced himself to speak up despite feeling the bloodlust that almost materialized around Ingrid.

"..Who? Who did it, sister?"

Ingrid fell silent for a moment.

"I don't know."

But her murderous look was unabated.

"But I know where they are."

She then stood up, an aura of frost had long since turned her sleeping bag to ice.

"I will find them..."

Her gaze turned south as if piercing through the tent, the camp, the snowy hills, staring at the distant lands where she had never been before.

"...And I will make them regret being born."