The snow fell steadily, covering everything in white. With each step the horses took, the wagon shook and wobbled as it moved through the snowy grounds. There was no storm, just the biting cold. The adventurers wore their jackets, including Mr Swordsman, who had to adhere to Emilia’s fashion and safety standards. She had thoughtfully selected a cloak that suited him well—a dark, well-fitted garment she had come across in an old, weathered shop. A little something up Mr Swordsman's alley.

The guidebook had provided her with countless travel tips, including songs for the road, and Emilia decided to give one a try. She swayed her head, singing softly and clapping at intervals. Her voice wasn’t perfect, but it suited the moment. Mr. Swordsman tapped his foot along with the rhythm, adding a subtle beat, while Pasta nodded, busy cleaning his sword.

Bhaa, wrapped in more layers than usual, sat outside looking like a human-sized bear in his bundled attire, annoyed by the singing. He grumbled loudly to himself, no he wanted them to hear him. Regardless, Emilia continued singing, her voice carrying a warmth that contrasted the surrounding cold. It was a new song for her, but it made her feel unexpectedly cosy inside. She finished with a soothing outro, leaning back against the wagon’s thick wooden walls.

“Never knew you were such a good singer,” Mr. Swordsman commented.

Emilia chuckled. “I’m not that good, trust me. I’ve heard much better.”

“Well, trust me, I’ve heard far worse,” Mr. Swordsman replied dryly. “My days of travel with Bloodborne were filled with agony and no, it wasn't from the battles.”

Pasta looked up from cleaning his sword, surprised. “You travelled with the guild master?”

Mr Swordsman sighed. “He was more of a headache than a companion. His cooking was terrible, and his singing? Even worse. I still have nightmares sometimes.”

Pasta and Emilia smiled at him. This was the first time they saw him complaining about something so simple.

“What’s wrong with you both?” Mr. Swordsman asked, confused.

“Nothing,” they said.

Emilia stretched her arms, exhausted. “Well, I’m not a fan of singing, anyway. I never have been, maybe I never will be. If there’s anything music-related I love, it’s...” She brought down her arms and clenched her fists with excitement. “Playing the piano.”

Pasta bowed his head. Here we go again, he thought.

Mr. Swordsman raised an eyebrow. “You know how to play?”

“Emilia not only knows how to play. She’s really good. So good, she’s considered a prodigy back in town.” Pasta raised his head. “But she’s strangely obsessed with those black and white keys.”

She stomped her feet on the ground. “I am not obsessed with it! It’s called adoration. And if I’m so obsessed, why haven’t I played in ages, huh? Yeah, answer me, Pasta?”

“Because there’s no piano here, obviously. Plus, you’ve got a new temporary obsession.”

“A-And what would that be?” she asked, already suspecting the answer.

“That guidebook of yours. Since we started this journey, you have been completely absorbed in your guidebook. You’ve got, like, what, six copies in your bag?”

“No, I don’t!” she shot back, clutching her bag tighter.

“Then you won’t mind me checking it, right?”

She shook her head furiously. “Nope, not happening.”

Pasta sighed. “Stop being a child and just let me see,” he said, his face slowly twisting into something more sinister. “If there’s really nothing, it should be no problem, right? Hehehe.”

“There’s nothing, so just leave me alone!” Emilia shouted, clutching her bag.

Mr. Swordsman observed from a distance, confident Emilia wouldn’t actually have that many books. Right?

Pasta lunged toward her, his hands outstretched like a predator about to pounce on its prey. He snatched the bag and peeked inside. To his shock, there were, in fact, several guidebooks... and some other items, notably special clothing he definitely wasn’t supposed to see.

Emilia’s face turned a dark shade of red, her eyes narrowing in fury. She drew her sword and charged at Pasta, who stood frozen in terror, already accepting his fate as a single bead of sweat dripped down his cheek.

“You’re the worst!” she screamed. A heavy thud echoed across the snowy plains, sending tremors through the ground.

*

Emilia gazed up at the starry, moonlit night, marvelling at each constellation her eyes captured. It was as if the heavens themselves were spilling their light from the hands of whoever once held them. Pasta lay on the floor, emitting an alarming amount of steam from his head.

Mr. Swordsman sat on the floor, arms crossed, and hummed the same tune Emilia had sung earlier. While he didn’t know the lyrics, he was fortunately able to match the tone.

The wagon came to a stop. Mr Swordsman gripped his sword but remained motionless. Emilia sighed as Pasta walked past her.

“I’ll handle it,” he said, steam still emitting out.

Twenty men surrounded the wagon. Bhaa frowned. He had hoped for a smooth trip without any disruptions; fighting them would be a waste of time and would only leave him even hungrier than he already was. Upon seeing Pasta emerging from the wagon, he remembered that adventurers were on board. How could he for a moment, forget he had this lazy bunch aboard? Bhaa greedily smiled and relaxed in his seat. It seemed there was no need for him to stress himself. Also, he had nothing in particular, his wagon was empty. He was off to buy goods, so at the moment, a prodigal son got more than him.

“Surrender your goods, and no one gets hurt,” one bandit said

They watched Pasta walk towards them, slowly.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing? Go fetch the goods you got loaded up in there. Come on now, hurry up”

He ignored them and kept moving forward.

The man, who seemed to be the leader, gestured to his companions and drew a line in the snow with his boot.

“If you cross this line without giving us the goods, we’ll kill you. Then we’ll deal with the rest. Understood?”

Pasta exhaled slowly, pressing his right foot into the snow. In an instant, he launched himself forward, dodging the swinging blades of the bandits. He appeared before their leader, his blade sliced cleanly through him. In the past, he hesitated to kill a man. Now it was like second nature.

Without turning back, Pasta spoke coldly, “Your leader is dead. The rest of you can leave.”

The bandits tightened their grips on their weapons, glaring at him as they all charged forward.

No, don’t. Pasta thought. Don’t come at me all at once. He turned back to face them.

They swarmed him like moths drawn to a flame. Pasta slipped through them in an instant. He stood beyond their encirclement, sliding his sword back into its sheath.

Confused, they looked down at themselves—no deep wounds, just scratches. Then, a sharp pain erupted through their bodies. Their skin turned a sickly pale green, veins bulging, and their eyes burned as if set ablaze. They fell to the floor, staining the snow with green and red.

Pasta gazed at the starry skies. Taking them all at once had been too easy since he only had to place scratches, but a nagging thought gnawed at him. If he ever hoped to reach Mr Swordsman’s level, he’d need to be faster.

They continued their journey for hours. Suddenly, a loud thud was heard, bringing the wagon to a halt.

“Darn it!” Bhaa yelled, jumping out as the horses neighed restlessly. He hurried over to calm them, muttering under his breath.

“Is something wrong?” Emilia asked, stepping down from the wagon.

Bhaa bent over and examined the tyres. It looked like one had been chipped off the side, possibly from hitting some rocks along the way.

“I hate when this happens.”

“Don’t you have a spare tyre?” she asked.

Bhaa gave her a cold look. “If I had a spare, do you think I’d still be here complaining?”

“Yes,” she said matter-of-factly.

He kicked the side of the wagon. “You know what? You adventurers should make yourselves useful and push the wagon.”

“Wait, what?!” Emilia screeched.

Pasta jumped out. “Did I just hear push the wagon?”

“Is there a problem?” Bhaa asked.

“We can’t do that. The capital is still far from sight, and it’s nighttime,” Pasta complained.

“Okay then, make a new one,” Bhaa said.

Pasta turned to Emilia. “Do you know how to make a wheel?”

She crossed her arms. “I should be asking you, mister. You’re the guy here, after all.”

In unison, they both shouted, “Mr. Swordsman!”

He came out to see the siblings staring at him with sparkles in their eyes.

“What’s wrong now?”

“You can save us from this current situation,” Pasta said.

Emilia nodded. “Yes, we need you to make a tyre. Can you?”

“No, I c- “he saw their gleaming faces. What sort of leader would he be if he can’t? His reputation lies in this. He cleared his throat.

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“We first have to get some wood, then we’ll begin the process,” he said, his voice deeper.

Emilia and Pasta screamed. This was so much better than pushing.

“Is it advisable to leave Bhaa alone while we go find wood? Just one person can go,” Emilia suggested.

Bhaa slammed his fist on the side of the wagon. “I don’t care if you all leave me. I was planning to head out alone, anyway. I can handle myself.”

“But it would be better if one of us stayed behind,” Emilia said, still concerned.

Mr. Swordsman began heading toward the forest. “There’s no need to worry. We’re in the middle of nowhere, yes, but the merchant says he can handle himself. Also, I’m not leaving you two alone. Anything can happen in these parts.”

Emilia hesitated but decided to follow Mr. Swordsman.

“You all have ten minutes. We still have a long trip ahead,” Bhaa said, entering the wagon for some rest.

*

They ventured into the cherry blossom forest, an unusual sight for such harsh weather. Yet, for the locals, it was nothing out of the ordinary. According to Emilia and her obsession, the blossoms belonged to a special species capable of thriving in the cold. They followed the winding path, disappearing deeper into the forest, the vibrant petals swirling around them.

The wood from the surrounding trees proved too soft for crafting, prompting them to venture deeper in search of sturdier timber. The trees gently swayed with the soft breeze, and the air grew lighter, each breath feeling fresher, more invigorating. A sweet melody was heard, the delicate notes of a flute. But as quickly as it began, the air shifted, thickening with animosity, as if the forest had turned against them.

“Who’s there?” Pasta yelled, turning back with his sword in hand.

Mr. Swordsman stood, his hat pulled down, his hand on his sheath. The song continued playing.

“Do you guys hear that?” Pasta looked around, searching for where the sound was coming from.

Emilia pointed at the sky. A woman in flowing attire adorned with bells stood midair on one foot. She played a bamboo flute, each note filled with mystery and life. Like Mr Swordsman, she wore a wide-brimmed hat, but hers was adorned with intricate ornaments tied to strings, swaying gently in the breeze. The bright petals blew around as if dancing to the song she played. Emilia’s heart raced—this woman was unmistakably one of the mysterious figures she had encountered earlier.

In an instant, the woman appeared face to face with Mr Swordsman, too fast for him to draw his blade. A smirk spread across her lips as she leaned in, pulling him into a sudden kiss on the lips.

Emilia and Pasta screamed, dropping their weapons.

The woman stepped back, chuckling softly, hands resting on her hips. “I see you’re doing well, Hady,” she said.

Mr. Swordsman stood still, his face shadowed beneath his hat, staying silent.

She giggled, tapping his head repeatedly as if to provoke him. “Hady, Hady, Hady. You are Hady, right?” Her hands moved to her cheeks. “Oh no, did I just kiss a stranger? Wait...” She glanced over at Emilia and Pasta. “No, you’re definitely Hady. Hady!”

“Ahem, that was quite the… greeting,” he said, still hiding his face.

“Come on, let me see that cute face of yours,” she smiled deviously.

“No”

“Come on, come on”

“No”

She pulled his arm, but he didn’t budge.

“How are you this strong? You’ve been working out again, haven’t you? You sly swordsman”

“What are you doing here, Lily?”

She smiled deviously again and thrust her hands into Mr Swordsman's clothing, moving it in an unusual matter, just to tickle him. He held her hand, showing his eyes. “What is your business here, Lily?”

“Come now, don’t be in a kill mood. I came for you obviously”

He stared at her for a moment and smiled, releasing his hold.

“I know you’ve missed me. I can see it, clear as day, Hady. Clear as day”

“I see you haven’t changed. Still the same down-to-earth girl”

“And why would I?” she asked, hands on her hip.

Mr Swordsman gazed at her with a smile and then burst into laughter. “Yeah, why would you?” he said.

Pasta stared in disbelief, blinking rapidly. “What is going on here?” he muttered, watching something completely unnatural—Mr. Swordsman was laughing out loud.

Emilia, though unfazed by the swordsman’s outburst, had her thoughts elsewhere. One of those mysterious people she had seen before was standing right before her. She thought they were enemies?

“Excuse me,” Emilia said. “Who exactly are you to, Mr Swordsman?”

“What am I to him?” Lilly said, crossing her arms around Mr Swordsman’s shoulder. “I’m his wife.”

Pasta fell to the floor, while Emilia’s legs still managed to hold her up for some time before she met her brother in the snow.

“Don’t give my employers some bad jokes,” Mr. Swordsman said, pinching her cheek.

“Aww, don’t be like that, Hady. You do love me, right? Come on, say it. Say it for your precious flower,” she said, bearing the pain of the pinch.

Mr Swordsman sighed. “We both were trained under the same master. She’s a good friend of mine.”

“Wrong… I’m his wife. You’ve got to believe me,” she said, raising a finger. Mr. Swordsman pinched her cheek, harder. “Ok, ok. Friend.”

He released his hold on her.

“Someday, wife,” she whispered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Pasta managed to pull himself up. “So, are you as strong as Mr. Swordsman?”

She smirked. “No, Mighty Pasta, I’m stronger. Hehehe.”

“You’re stronger?” Pasta asked. “And how do you know my title?”

“I know a lot of things,” she said, her gaze shifting to Emilia. “Hey, Emilia, you must’ve met my colleagues. They’re such a boring bunch. Sorry if they gave you any trouble.”

Mr. Swordsman narrowed his eyes. “What’s that about?”

“Nothing,” Emilia replied.

“You’re not going to say anything, hon?” Lily said, turning to face Mr Swordsman.

“I’m not about to argue over who’s stronger, so let’s just drop it.”

Lily grinned and swung her sword playfully. “Oh, come on. Just one duel. It’s been forever since we had one.”

“Right here?” Mr. Swordsman asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Why not, sweetie?” she winked.

He sighed, drawing his sword.

*

They stood at the heart of the forest. Emilia and Pasta received instructions to keep their distance. Lily fixed her gaze on Mr Swordsman. She moved freely as if the hardened ground were nothing more than feathers beneath her feet. The bells on her attire chimed softly with each step, creating harmony.

In a moment, she was already at him, her sword to his face.

He blocked her initial strike and tried to push her back, but she flipped over him, executing a flying cut that he managed to block. Appearing before him, she slashed again, only for him to parry the blow. Her movements seemed like a feather dancing in the breeze. He could not land a solid hit, and the melodic chime of her bells only added to the distraction.

Lily maintained a bright, unwavering smile, which struck him. Hades had long avoided her for many reasons: her unparalleled speed, intelligence, and adaptability in combat. Yet, it was her smile that eclipsed them all—a certainty of victory and the pure joy she found in every battle. It was a smile he wanted for himself, one he wanted to protect. Determined, Mr Swordsman struck his sword in the air and dashed into the parallel space to match her speed.

“What happened Pasta? They just disappeared,” Emilia exclaimed.

Pasta saw faint slashes in the air, but still could not see them.

In the space, the entire forest lost its colour, with every element moving slower than a leaf falling from a branch. They both moved with intense speed, resembling a dance between lovers, something Lily was hoping for. He would block immediately after each strike she delivered. The surrounding bells rang more intensely as her speed increased, and the sound of her feet hitting the ground matched the melody of the bells.

"Hey now, calm down a bit," Mr Swordsman said, deflecting all her fast-paced attacks.

She displayed movements as beautiful as a bird, and her style was like that of a musician, while he was a fortress able to guard against the array of attacks.

“You do know, without it. You’re going to lose,” she said.

“I plan not to use it”

“Hehehe. You are so nice, Hady. Thank you for the win,” she said, increasing her speed and leapt out of the parallel space.

Pasta and Emilia gaped in disbelief. Lilly’s sword was now at Mr Swordsman’s neck.

“I win, I win!” she cheered, clapping and hopping with joy. Mr Swordsman, despite himself, couldn’t help but smile.

“Victory kiss!” she yelled

Pasta and Emilia, still stunned, were now further unsettled by the sight.

“Um, Mr Swordsman?” Emilia asked, her gaze shifting to the catastrophe. The trees fell and scattered. Thank goodness they kept their distance.

Mr Swordsman held Lily’s face with one hand, pushing her away. “Ahem, Bhaa must be waiting. Let’s make this quick”

“Make what quick,” Lily asked.

“The wheel of our ride got bad, so we’re here to fix it,” Pasta said. “Also, you’ve got to show me how to move like that. Mr Swordsman hasn’t taught me those movements yet. It was like you could move on air”

Lily looked at Mr Swordsman. She held in her laughter, but laughed, anyway. “You? A teacher?”

He laughed sarcastically. “You should excuse us. We have a wheel to make”

Emilia gathered some wood in an area that was once filled with trees bearing hardwood. The fight just now. Mr Swordsman and the woman seemed to be holding back, and yet she still won. It didn’t look like a real fight at all. She was wondering why in the nine realms, one of those people would approach her. She recalled the words of their leader, who instructed her to do “whatever” when she encountered any of their members. What did he mean by “whatever”?

“Hey, Emilia,” Lily said, kneeling on the snow and picking some wood.

Emilia screamed and began breathing heavily. “You scared me. Do you need anything?”

Lily kept staring into her eyes. Emilia stayed quiet and chuckled nervously.

“Yeah, you haven’t seen it yet,” Lily said.

“Seen what?”

“The devil,” Lily got up. “You respect Hady, right?”

“Y-yes I do”

“You trust him?”

“Absolutely,” Emilia said, sharply.

“You love him?”

“W-What?! No, of course not. W-why would you say that?”

Lily nodded, her arms crossed. “You’re a good one then”

“What?”

“Oh, and Emilia. Pay no mind to me being part of them. I’m not here for you but Hady. Also, since we are friends. I’ll let you in on a little secret, okay?”

“Okay?”

Lily glanced around, checking to see if anyone was nearby. Mr. Swordsman was busy gathering wood, while Pasta was preoccupied with finding ways to increase his speed. Leaning in close to Emilia, Lily whispered, “We know who you are and the current situation. You are being constantly watched, and I advise you not to trust Hady too much.”

Emilia took a deep breath. If they were really being watched, it wouldn’t be wise to show any signs of shock. “I don’t think you’re right about him.”

“Well, I once trusted him too,” Lily said, her hands clasped behind her back. “That’s until he broke a promise. I’ve forgiven him, since no one is perfect, right? Remember, Emilia, a gift is not a curse. It’s something the user actually craves, and even the curses it comes with are the user’s wish.”

“So, it’s about his gift?” Emilia asked.

Lily chuckled. “Maybe. It’s your job to figure that out.”

*

Mr Swordsman had finished gathering the wood. It was a bit too much for a single wheel. No, it was way too much. He stood, staring at the pile of wood. Every part of his brain was working on how he should start.

“Anything wrong, Mr Swordsman?” Emilia asked, her eyes sparkling again.

Damm, has everyone just gone insane? Or is that hell of a swords lady spreading her madness?

Lily sat innocently on a stump, wondering how Mr Swordsman became good in wood work. He hated woodwork back in the village and was he glaring at her. All she wanted was a kiss, nothing else. Why was he so mad?

“Come on, Mr Swordsman, we are running out of time,” Pasta said. “I don’t want to push the wagon. My palms are already covered in splinters from picking up wood”

“Stop with the lies, Pasta,” Emilia said.

“Ok I’m lying but still I don’t want to push the wagon”

Mr Swordsman stared at the pile of wood. Ok, first step. He drew his sword. Lily began laughing, falling on her side.

“Is anything the problem?” He asked.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just-. No, it’s nothing”

Mr. Swordsman held the sword, and he knew he needed to be very delicate. He stabbed the sword and Lily began laughing. Mr. Swordsman glared at her, realizing he was doing something wrong, but not sure what it was.

“You must have forgotten yours, then,” Lily said, retrieving a small knife from her belt and handing it to him. “You did mention that this sort of work requires a smaller knife.”

“Yes, yes. You are right. I forgot mine,” he said, taking the knife and beginning to cut clumsily at the corners of the wood. Lily’s chuckles grew as she sat next to him.

She held Mr Swordsman's hand and began cutting the wood, leading the siblings to believe that Mr Swordsman’s was the one doing the actual work while she was just learning from him. The transformation of the wood into a wheel distracted Emilia and Pasta. They did not notice Lily's ongoing antics and the visibly frustrated Mr Swordsman.

The wheel was done. Emilia and Pasta took turns to hold the wheel. The original rough surface was gone, it was all smooth.

“I’ll be taking my leave then,” Lily said, walking away.

“Any news from master?” Mr Swordsman asked, turning his back to her. Still annoyed.

“I don’t serve him anymore. You gotta grow out of your boots someday. Have to be free sometimes”

“I see”

“Emilia. Don’t forget what we spoke about”

“Yes”

“Lily. How about showing me those movements again?”

She leapt on a tree and held her hat. “Don’t worry, mighty Pasta, we’ll meet again,” she eyed Mr Swordsman. “I’m sure of it, Hehehe”

She disappeared before their eyes. They were still not used to her swiftness. Mr Swordsman stared at the tree where she once stood. It’s been so long, and yet she hasn’t changed one bit.

*

“Ten minutes, I said. And you adventurers spent over thirty there,” Bhaa complained. On the floor next to him were three unconscious men.

“You really can protect yourself,” Pasta said in amazement.

“Every merchant must learn a skill or two. They are thieves everywhere you know. Now where’s my wheel”

They handed it to him. After inspection, he approved of it. The swordsman must be a very decent wood crafter. With skills like this, he could make a decent amount of money. He eyed Mr Swordsman. I need to get him to work under me; he thought.

A lady appeared sitting on top of the wagon. She wore an exposing outfit. Her bright blonde hair is rough and her skin has a darker tone. She held a glowing whip in her hand.

Mr Swordsman glared at her. How many weird people will he meet in a single day?

She didn’t let out any sinister energy. Her anger was seen, but it was not to them. Compared to the last one. She was more calmer, and that was a mirage. A very good one.

“I’m looking for a particular swordswoman, wearing the same kind of hat you are, swordsman. We have a business to discuss crucially,” Zephyr said. “Tell me where she went or-“

“Over there,” Mr Swordsman said, pointing in the right direction. His expression remained stoic.

“Oh- thank you,” she replied, following the trail.

Emilia and Pasta stared at him. Wondering what such a despicable husband he was.

“What?”

“Nothing,” they said together.