Matching my breathing to the rhythm of my steps, I adjusted the frequency of my breaths, gauging the terrain beneath the snow by its surface patterns, utilizing the rebound of my strides, and harnessing the pulsating energy to conserve my stamina...

Every five minutes, I sent a contact wave to Qana, but he still hadn't responded.

At the very least, I needed to catch up to them first, then figure out the next step. They couldn't possibly move faster than I could, but they must have a retreat plan. It's too impractical to carry Piqsirpoq all the way to the coastline on foot. Most likely, they had a cloaked airship or a swift ground vehicle stationed somewhere.

I stopped at the foot of a steep scree slope.

Damn it, the tracks were gone!

Whether they noticed me or were just being cautious, they had erased their footprints by walking on hard surfaces.

I scanned the area; the scree slope was vast, far beyond the range of my vision. They could have left from anywhere, and I had no way to track them.

I took a deep breath, suppressing my anxiety, trying to find a logical solution with a calm mind.

But then, Piqsirpoq's image flashed in my mind--reaching out to catch a red berry that flew toward him.

I had no choice; the situation was urgent.

I expanded my consciousness and sent out a probing wave.

I wasn't sure how far they had gone, or if they had already reached their escape vehicle, so I pushed my output to maximum, covering the nearby mountain ranges.

I could sense the direction of Hadrian's Wall, where several surprised feedback waves reached me, including a mental image of Master Ontara spilling tea on his clothes in shock. But this wasn't the time to care about them.

The probing wave continued to expand steadily, missing no detail as it swept through the area. I waited anxiously, forcing myself not to get distracted and miss any feedback.

Countless tiny snowflakes rippled in my consciousness. I tried to merge with them, spinning, drifting, and scattering. I could feel each one clearly...

There!

Three unfamiliar canine creatures, and Piqsirpoq's very familiar waveform.

I almost cried out in relief, the unease in my heart easing just a little.

But then, I noticed that less than a hundred meters from them, there was an entire squad. I could't determine the exact number; something was interfering with my pulse... Adamantine, they had adamantine.

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This wasn't something the general public could access, nor would they know that adamantine could disrupt probing waves. There was a reason they chose Piqsirpoq as their target; the unexpected incident at the Colosseo was likely part of this scheme.

I couldn't piece together the connection between these clues, and I didn't care. I was certain that if Piqsirpoqs captors met up with that squad, I might never see him again.

One last time, I sent a contact wave to Qana, and a probing wave to Hadrian's Wall. The psychics stationed at the Snow's territory were clearly too weak; the distance between us prevented them from responding to my wave, but I could sense they were trying to reach someone who could help.

"Qana." I sent the final wave with this message, then looked in the direction where Piqsirpoq was.

I didn't want to make too much noise and alert them from hundreds of meters away. I had to be as cautious as possible.

Alright then, let's do this.

I retracted my ice claws, stowed the ice axe into my boot, and put on my goggles.

I really wished I had a better understanding of physics and more time to practice my Domination thrust techniques.

I leaped down the scree slope, neutralizing the friction, letting me slide down faster and faster.

I split my focus into dozens of fine vectors, occasionally leaping or dodging protruding rocks, mimicking the image of skiing or surfing in my mind. Now really wasn't the time to regret not being more enthusiastic about outdoor activities.

At least everything was going smoothly so far. In just a few minutes, I had already... Damn it!

I must have miscalculated the force distribution on the vectors, causing me to veer off course and kick a jutting rock.

I went tumbling forward, rolling down the steep slope. I tried to erect a defensive barrier and form a suspension structure around my center of mass, but the rapid rotation made it impossible to issue commands.

Finally, I reached a gentler slope. I seized the chance to flip over and get to my feet, extending my ice claws and starting to sprint.

I dominated the surrounding field, causing the air currents to bypass me and reducing the effect of gravity. I employed every technique Qana and Piqsirpoq had taught me, charging at full speed toward what seemed to be some sort of armored vehicle.

Faster, I had to go faster!

After getting back on my feet, I had checked with another probing wave. Though a bit blurred, I could roughly determine that there were about twenty people, most of them standing, crammed into a boxy space, holding onto overhead structures for balance. And the vehicle's tracks were clearly snow-adapted, accelerating steadily. At this rate, I would soon fall behind.

There weren't enough footholds nearby to replicate the high-speed movement technique I'd used at the Colosseo, so all I could do was sprint desperately through the snow.

Faster, come on, faster!

Finally, I was within a hundred meters of the vehicle. Its outline was faint, clearly equipped with optical camouflage. In the expanse of silver-white snow, if not for the tracks it left behind, it would be nearly impossible to spot.

I sent out another probing wave, and the news was grim--the vehicle was about to outpace me, and Piqsirpoq had not only regained consciousness but was also struggling fiercely, terrified.

Alright, caution ends here!

I expanded my consciousness, trying to seize control of the vehicle, but couldn't dominate it. The vehicle's combined consciousness resisted fiercely. There must have been a psychic among them; otherwise, I should have been able to easily suppress the combined consciousness of twenty people. The thoroughness of their preparation confirmed my suspicion that they were some kind of group targeting psychics.

Just as I was about to retract my consciousness, I felt Piqsirpoq's fear intensify--a fear of death and what would come before it--pain, excruciating pain, tearing, wounds, blood, so much blood--he was hurt. My brother was on the ground, pinned down by several canine. I couldn't tell what their intentions were.

I stopped, maintaining my balance, using the remaining inertia to slide across the snow while drawing the blade from my belt.

Once more, I confirmed the positions and actions of everyone in the vehicle, feeling Piqsirpoq, bloodied arms raised, assuming a defensive posture, and the captors' smug, taunting laughter--that made my blood boil.

The alert wave told me their psychic had noticed me, and I had to act before they could react.

I attuned my consciousness with the Karabela in my hand, channeling my will into it, resonating with it, extending my presence, making the weapon an extension of myself.

I amplified my sensory perception to the maximum, analyzing the material of the armored vehicle. Then, with the precision of Glacier stance three, I executed a flawless, unerring slash.

The intense resonance produced a ripple that etched a pale blue streak in the air, flying toward the vehicle. When the two met, the slash cut through the armor like it wasn't even there, disrupting the optical camouflage and tearing off the upper half of the vehicle.

And with it, several bodies, sliced clean in half, heads, torsos, all flying out.