The northern territories were mostly coniferous forests, with very few small plants on the ground between the ancient towering trees.

The open vistas granted wide visibility. In the dim moonlight, Rosen could see clearly for fifty or sixty meters all around where he stood.

He followed the Winter Cultist at a distance of five or six meters into the depths of the mountain woods. After walking for over an hour, the Winter Cultist suddenly halted and pointed ahead at a huge boulder, whispering: "There's something going on up ahead, let's hide behind this rock."

She ducked behind the boulder first. Rosen considered briefly and also took cover beside the giant rock.

The boulder sat atop a ridge, with a vast sloping cliff stretching below. The strange noises originated from the cliff base, about seventy or eighty meters from where they hid.

Peering through cracks in the rock, Rosen made out two shadowy figures emerging at the bottom of the slope.

Using his adventure log to zoom in, Rosen got a clearer look at the targets.

The figures were quite short, no more than one and a half meters tall, but extremely muscular, with upper arms nearly as thick as Rosen's waist.

Rosen figured one blow from these creatures could easily kill him if he was unprepared.

The two stocky figures were occupied, carrying between them a massive cylindrical log at least thirty centimeters thick and seven or eight meters long.

As they walked along, they made unintelligible chattering noises, apparently conversing in an unknown tongue.

When the pair drew nearer, Rosen squinted for a better look. Incredibly, despite the frigid winter night, both were completely naked, exposing their bodies to the piercing cold winds.

Thanks to their candid state, Rosen could make out their physical structure in detail.

Other than their anomalously burly builds and extremely pale skin, there was nothing different from ordinary humans. They had two arms, two legs, one head, and five fingers on each hand and foot. At their waists swung the usual fleshy appendages.

Yet any observer could instantly discern they belonged to another race, as distinct as Homo sapiens and Neanderthals on Earth.

The two figures moved swiftly, soon disappearing from sight.

The Winter Cultist volunteered information without waiting to be asked.

"Frost dwarves, also called frost demons. They come from the Permafrost Lands far north beyond the Snowfall Mountains. Can't say why they're here, though."

The Permafrost Lands were reputedly even colder than the northern territories, smothered in ice and snow year-round except for the fish in the seas and lichen on the tundra. No wonder inhabitants could ignore the northern winds.

The Winter Cultist whispered, "Shall we follow and see where they go?"

Rosen considered briefly before nodding agreement.

Staying under the cover of the trees, they stealthily trailed the figures. After a little over a quarter hour, they came upon a sheer-faced height of land.

The elevated ground was a gigantic turtle-back shaped boulder, with a rupture along one side forming a precipitous fifty-meter cliff.

The other side was barricaded with a towering timber wall made of massive logs, blocking all access up the rock.

On the flat ground atop could be seen numerous small turf huts packed tightly together, of varying sizes, at a glance resembling a graveyard on Earth.

The two frost dwarves carried their log up with ease, met by more dwarves emerging from the huts as they reached the summit. The new arrivals took the log to add to the barricade.

Studying the wall, Rosen noticed the logs were more like scaffolding. Behind them he could see many square-cut boulders stacked together as the actual bulk of the fortification.

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The stone wall looked incomplete in most areas but fully constructed in parts.

The finished sections stood over ten meters tall and at least three meters thick, with clay packed into the gaps to bond the structure into a solid whole.

Rosen was alarmed. "They're building a fortress!"

The cultist showed no surprise, as if this was nothing new.

"Judging by the number of huts, there must be at least fifteen hundred frost dwarves. Almost as many as the population of Moon Glow."

This was a shocking figure, since Moon Glow had two thousand including the elderly, women, and children.

The fifteen hundred here were likely all battle-hardened warriors. Even if Moon Glow could withstand them, casualties would be appalling.

More disturbing was the dwarves establishing a stronghold deep in the wilderness instead of directly attacking.

Once complete, the fortress would be an entrenched thorn impossible to remove.

"This is dire news. We must report back right away!"

Rosen moved to retrace their steps, but the cultist remained motionless.

His heart clenched. "What are you thinking?"

The Winter Cultist smiled faintly.

"You saw it too. The invasion by these foreigners, with such might. Word of this reaching Silver Moon Castle will surely spark a great war."

Comprehension struck Rosen.

"Winter's King was born to thrive on war. Open conflict would let him swiftly regain power."

"Correct. My lord is the god of war. This borderland is perfect for restoring his strength when battles erupt."

"The Gold God's waning now likely means his lifespan is ending. When he perishes, my lord shall rule the north. Helping your master achieve greatness will bring you boundless glory."

A tempting prospect indeed. But Rosen was no ignorant newcomer. He understood the nature of power, even for supernaturals.

"Likely means? So you're unsure why the Gold God weakens?"

The cultist faltered.

"I've also heard gods have greater and lesser strength. Powerful gods can easily crush weak ones. The Gold God is mightiest in the world. Even weakened, dealing with your lord should be trivial, no?"

The cultist pursed her lips. "It seems you don't intend to serve my lord."

"Are you going to make a move?"

Rosen edged backward, preparing to flee at full speed.

But the cultist shook her head.

"No need. Even if you don't embrace my lord, you'll still report the frost dwarves to Silver Moon Castle. War will erupt regardless, yes?"

Rosen nodded. "Indeed."

"Sorcerer, my lord has endless lifespan and patience. Failing to see reason now matters not. The day will come when facts prove his words. With your discernment, you will surely still serve him then, will you not?"

Rosen smiled faintly. "If Winter's King can truly foresee the Gold God's downfall, I would unhesitatingly swear fealty."

"Let time reveal all."

The cultist slowly receded into the darkness. Her voice drifted on the wind.

"Sorcerer, my lord shall rise again in this war. May you also gain the glory you seek."

As the words faded, the cultist's form vanished fully into the gloom.

Rosen's mind stirred. "Hmph, so it was a deception after all."

This was undeniably a rare opportunity.

Should he seize it? Absolutely!

Should he tell Sophia the whole truth then? Certainly not. He must be selective and tactful.

Rosen harbored no true loyalty toward the Countess of Silver Moon Castle.

Nor did he toward any authority, in fact.

Not from a fondness for betrayal, but an understanding of power's fundamental nature.

No absolute power existed. Its essence was a cooperative contract between superiors and inferiors.

Since it was cooperation, it required mutual benefit.

Loyalty was not lofty or sacred, merely a mental tool invented by superiors to shackle inferiors.

Naturally, inferiors chafed at these bonds and conceived 'compassion', 'kindness', 'generosity' and other virtues to restrain superiors.

To the Countess, Rosen was the inferior.

Verbally, he must profess loyalty to gain her trust. But he could not let the notion of 'loyalty' fetter his thoughts.

Now for instance, the course of action best serving the Countess was for Rosen to disclose everything so she could decide.

But that brought Rosen no maximum benefit, and might even add the taint of associating with evil gods, causing unwarranted wariness in the uninformed.

What he must do was capitalize on the war to build accomplishments and advance his own interests.

So the trivial encounter with the cultist would stay locked in his belly.

With this resolved, he turned and retraced his steps back to his room.

After a winding trek, he returned around ten at night.

Lying on the floor, exhaustion suffused his sore, rubbery legs, but rest eluded him with magic studies incomplete.

Eyes closed, he habitually commenced the 'Lord of the Universe' meditation.

His consciousness slowly sank into the sea of mind, entering the first-person perspective of the Lord of the Universe. He calmly visualized the universe sphere wrapped in the shell of divinity, feeling the cosmic forces permeate the shell and gradually meld into his soul's core.

He had performed this meditation over a month now with astounding, problem-free results.

Yet something was off tonight.

The golden speck in the divine shell quivered, and a wisp of power leaked out as if the shell had ruptured.

Rosen was startled. 'What's going on?'

Maintaining the meditation, he closely observed the golden dot's behavior.

As he sank deeper into meditation, the speck's trembling intensified, and more energy escaped, plateauing around one tenth of the total meditative power before finally stabilizing.

A message flashed from the Universe Divinity program on the table: 'Anomalous resonant forces detected. Terminate connection?'

"Cut...wait, nevermind."

Past memories combined with today's events sparked a hypothesis in Rosen's mind.

Preserving this conduit cost him barely anything, yet might be a lifeline for someone.