A gentle breeze blew from the Charles Plains, ruffling the trees and the river that flowed beneath the towering walls of Alorn. Leaves and petals, carried by the wind, fell into the river, creating tiny ripples. Atop the walls, the imperial flag fluttered high—the black and gold banner, bearing the glory of the Lanstier monarchs for thousands of years, had its own solemn and awe-inspiring aura, a symbol of power that commanded respect and admiration. Below the walls, a long line of laden carriages was parked at the city gate. The lead merchant looked up and, using a properly ingratiating tone, addressed the guards.

“Sir, we are honest merchants. You know, the south is in utter chaos. Mittal’s northern border is closed, and Nymph Fu is strictly controlled. We heard that Duke Dürer and the Alorn governor welcome merchants from all over, so we thought we’d try our luck in the north…”

Accompanying his words was a rough hand, and a purse in that hand.

The guard silently accepted the purse and, after a moment of subtle consideration, showed a satisfied expression. He looked at the more than ten merchants gathered at the city gate and their representative, who had been speaking with him:

“Of course, the Duke and his territory always welcome honest and trustworthy merchants. I trust that these good people here are honest, trustworthy, and respectable individuals. But a proper inspection is still necessary.”

A few guards who seemed to know each other and worked well together approached the laden carriages. Their gazes swept across the anxious merchants, occasionally lifting the cloth covering the goods… But from the relaxed and lazy expressions of the guards, it was clear that this inspection was just a show for their superiors. The guards, with satisfied expressions, watched everything and chatted with the merchants.

“What’s the situation like in the south? I heard it’s quite chaotic.”

The merchant, relieved, watched the carriages undergoing inspection. Hearing the guard’s words, he turned back, giving a slightly nervous smile.

“It’s all just hearsay from adventurers. I’ve never been south of Nymph Fu. I think the others in the caravan haven’t been either. After all, only those who are desperate for money would dare to cross Nymph Fu and go south…”

The guard looked at the long line of carriages at the city gate, roughly estimating that there were probably more than a hundred of them. Even with their perfunctory inspection, it would take some time to finish. Until then, he had plenty of time to get some gossip from the merchant.

“I’d like to hear that. Tell me everything.”

The merchant wiped away a cold sweat and regretted not having spent some time at the tavern before setting out, listening to the adventurers’ tall tales. Now, he had to rack his brains and search his memories for any snippets of information he might have heard. After a few seconds, he managed to pull a few fragments of memory from the edges of his mind. Perhaps it was some crazy talk he’d heard from a deserter at the Adventurer’s Guild along the way, or perhaps it was something a terrified peasant had said, but he managed to answer the guard’s question.

“Uh… I heard that the people of Mittal created a strange kind of carriage. It doesn’t need horses or beasts to pull it, and it doesn’t go on the roads. It runs on tracks made of iron. They call it a ‘Magic Train’…”

A gentle breeze swept across the sturdy walls of Alorn, blessed by earth magic, moving further north, passing the huge city and the towering Mage Tower within, passing the lush forests and the Rhine River, which flowed through ten provinces of the Empire, and passing the mountains that bordered the Alorn valley… After crossing an invisible boundary, the temperature suddenly dropped sharply. The gentle breeze turned into a biting cold wind. A thin fog filled the air, and delicate snowflakes drifted down, accumulating several centimeters of snow on the trees and ground.

Selene’s sharp, cold, red ears trembled slightly. She put down the wooden materials she was carrying, using them as a makeshift seat. She breathed into her numb, cold hands, her lightly-clad body huddled into a ball. Her gaze was somewhat hazy as she looked at the silvery white expanse before her.

The biting wind howled past the girl’s ears, swirling a few branches scattered on the snow.

The girl, huddled in a ball, suddenly jumped up and reached out, trying to catch the branches that were being blown away by the wind. Of course, she only managed to grab a few snowflakes swirling in the air, and her attempt to warm her hands failed miserably.

Realizing that this wasn’t very effective, Selene decisively retracted her hand. Having faced the strong wind that had just been born a few minutes ago and deprived her of the rights of her parents and eighteen generations of ancestors, she ended her uncomfortable rest, carefully picking up the wooden materials she had just put down, and started again.

The brief interlude didn’t use up much of her physical strength or body heat. After a brisk walk of several minutes, Selene reached her destination—the starting point of this journey. It was a carriage that had overturned in the snowdrift. The driver and the horses were long gone. Only the carriage remained, covered in snow, barely visible from the side of the road. The carriage, made from a combination of wood and iron, once boasted beautiful carvings and patterns, but now much of it was damaged. On the side of the carriage—since it had overturned on its side, that would be the right side—were shocking dents and scorch marks. It wasn’t hard to imagine that this luxurious carriage had been involved in a violent collision, and that it had also been subjected to high temperatures due to some unknown cause. After all that, the carriage overturned on the side of the road, and the heavy snowfall covered all traces.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

A few days ago, Selene had woken up in the carriage, disoriented. Fragments of images from her plane crash remained in her head. The screams and alarms overwhelmed by the violent explosions, the shaking cabin, and the constantly inverting scenery outside the window, no oxygen tanks, no oxygen masks, the flight attendant thrown against her violently, the blinding flash as the plane disintegrated.

When she opened her eyes again, she was in this snowy expanse, her hands and feet still chained to the side of the carriage, lying face down on the ground in a strange position.

After getting over the initial shock, she managed to break free from the not-very-strong chains. Then, she pondered for a short while about the possibility that she had survived the plane crash. From the current situation, her childlike body and the chains, she came to a conclusion—she had transmigrated. But it was like something was missing from her memories.

She had none of the original owner’s memories. In her mind, besides the fragments of her original life, there was only one name—Selene.

After temporarily accepting this unknown name, she began to examine her surroundings, quickly deducing what had happened to the carriage. As for what happened next, like where the driver and horses went, whether this was an accident or an act of revenge, whether the collision and high temperatures were caused by explosives or magic, and whether she was a prisoner or a hostage… Selene didn’t spend any extra effort considering these questions. She had to deal with a more pressing, practical question—

How to survive?

You are a girl who looks to be no more than ten years old. You’re wearing only a thin nightgown. You’re weak from hunger and thirst. You’re in a snowy wasteland. Your only resources are a damaged carriage. Your goal is to survive this snowy wasteland and return to human society… In a game, this would be a hellish difficulty that you’d only unlock after 180 playthroughs. Only video bloggers and those whose brains were completely fried would even attempt it.

Selene went to the side of the carriage, put down the wood she had gathered next to the extinguished fire, stacked it up, and checked the ventilation holes around it one by one. She took down some dry pieces of wood and replaced them with some slightly damp wood she found. These movements were fluid and practiced. For the past four days, she’d been repeating these steps three or four times every day. On the first day, she had even been injured while building the fire. Fortunately, the wounds weren’t deep, and there were no signs of infection.

A simple, but functional fire pit was completed, but to make it burn, she needed a source of fire. Where could she find one?

Selene took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Coming to this strange new world wasn’t completely awful. Even in those few days of hunger and cold, there was one thing that gave her hope—this world had “magic,” or whatever else you wanted to call it, but it was something that could help her survive.

After a brief meditation, her consciousness entered a strange space. The discomfort of the cold wind and low temperatures gradually receded, replaced by an encompassing darkness. It was a space reminiscent of the deep blackness of the universe, but there were some vague lights that prevented it from falling into complete darkness.

Selene’s thoughts didn’t linger too long on this rare comfort. She quickly found her target—a bright red point of light floating in the black void.

Selene reached out her hand, and the point of light automatically drifted towards her. She grasped it, and a long-lost warmth spread from her hands to her entire body.

This was the result of hundreds of meditations she’d done in these few days. This point of light was probably a “fire element.” After returning to the real world, she could throw it into the wood and start a real fire. The strange thing was, she hadn’t encountered any other, different types of elements. She wasn’t sure if her guess was right.

And her rather wild method of spellcasting wasn’t without risk.

Selene looked towards a certain point in the space. It was the limit of her eyesight. A few seconds later, a completely blurry red light appeared there.

As time passed, her eyes could make out more and more details. The true nature of the red light was revealed to Selene. It was a sea of fire formed from billions of “fire elements,” a chaotic sea of flames formed from countless points of light. Countless flames swirled and expanded in this space. In this process, new points of light joined, making the sea of fire even larger and more chaotic. Even from a distance, the intense heat quickly filled Selene’s body.

She narrowed her eyes. A feeling, akin to joy, seemed to emanate from the sea of fire, but the human brain seemed incapable of understanding the “emotions” of those points of light. These emotions quickly turned into meaningless noise.

Selene felt the warmth in her hands, and watched as this surging sea of fire rushed towards her. Her vision was filled with crimson in the blink of an eye. Just before the crimson sea reached her, her figure vanished.

The surging sea of fire suddenly stopped. It seemed as if the liquid flames stretched out a tentacle, tentatively probing the space where Selene had just been. Getting nothing, the sea of fire slowly receded, like melting slime, gradually dissolving. In this process, the points of light dissipated, vanishing into the darkness, as if dissolving into the void.

A few minutes later, the space was silent once again.

In the real world, Selene had emerged from the carriage. She was shivering, clutching her arms, muttering to herself.

“Does the heat from there not transmit to the real world? Then how can I take the ‘fire element’ out? But in the end, can this be considered ‘spellcasting’? Or, looking at this sea of fire, am I actually a… trafficker… of elements?”

Muttering, the girl threw the crimson point of light into the fire.

A warm fire rose in the snow.