Chapter 38: Snow Lion Pup [2]
The snow outside bit into my face the moment we stepped out of the cave.
It was dusk. The sky bled orange and violet over the endless stretch of frozen peaks. The blizzard that once howled around us had calmed to a lazy drift of snowflakes, drifting down like feathers. Beneath that calm, the mountains felt quiet—almost reverent, like they knew what had just happened.
The pup nestled against my chest, wrapped inside my cloak, his tiny breaths tickling the crook of my neck.
Alice didn’t say anything for a while. Her boots crunched in the snow beside me, steady, purposeful.
Then, after a long pause, she spoke.
"I am asking for the last time. You’re keeping him?"
"Obviously."
"Hmph. Don’t forget if he killes anyone you will also be dead." She didn’t sound pleased. Or maybe she was and just didn’t want to show it.
"I know."
I adjusted the cloak, making sure the pup’s head was covered from the wind. "He needs a name."
Alice shot me a sidelong glance. "You want me to name it?"
"Would that be a problem?"
"Considering I almost decapitated it ten minutes ago? Maybe."
I grinned. "Then I guess I’ll name him myself."
The pup looked up at me with sleepy eyes, still unsure whether I was his savior or just another predator.
"How about... Sera?"
Alice blinked. "Isn’t that a girl’s name?"
I shrugged. "Short for Serac. Like the ice towers you find on glaciers. Fits, doesn’t it?"
"No. It’s a monster. He doesn’t this kind of the name."
"Then what kind of name will it suits him?"
I couldn’t help but asked. A name is just name.
Don’t tell there is discrimination against even names?
Damn.
"Forget it. You don’t have any sense. I will choose a fitting name for a monster later. For now let’s go."
I wanted to point out that she shouldn’t discrimination against names but I held myself back.
I don’t want to be the next target of her sword.
So, without saying anything I followed her.
---
"Head butler, there’s nothing around here!"
Hans pressed a hand to his temple, a sharp throb pulsing beneath his fingertips. His patience was wearing thin.
"This is the worst Successor Trial in decades," he muttered under his breath.
They had mobilized nearly two dozen soldiers, servants, and a support team—yet not a trace of Alice or Julies.
Why even assign escorts if Alice would just wave them off?
Why bring Julies Evans along in the first place?
A noble from the South, an outsider unfamiliar with the North’s merciless winters and blood-soaked trials.
"Julies Evans..." Hans repeated the name like a curse. Whether he followed Alice of his own will or was dragged along didn’t matter anymore. If he was the one taking the lead, it was reckless. If Alice had brought him, then he was just dead weight.
In both cases, the outcome was the same—Hans would be furious.
Hans took a deep breath, his eyes drifting toward the horizon where the sun had begun its slow descent. Crimson light stained the snow, and he felt a chill deeper than the cold.
"If only they had fired the flare," he said, voice tight. "Monsters grow bolder at night. Even Alice won’t last long without proper support."
He stepped forward, raising his voice.
"Keep searching! We found signs of their horses nearby. That means they couldn’t have gone far. I don’t care how tired you are—do not come back until they’re found!"
"Yes, sir!"
But just as the soldiers turned to move, another one came sprinting over the ridge, his breath ragged.
"Head Butler!"
Hans turned, already bracing himself for more bad news.
"We found her! Lady Alice!"
"What? Bring her at once!"
At last. A break. Just before nightfall, when the northern woods would become a death trap.
He exhaled, the tight knot in his chest loosening ever so slightly.
"...I’ll leave Lady Alice to the Duke," he murmured. "Right now, I need to focus on Julies."
That boy.
Soft-spoken. Polite. And completely unaware of what it meant to be part of a noble house in the North.
Hans knew how these things went—when a young heir took a wrong step early, it could lead to a lifetime of misdirection. Or worse.
Someone had to set him straight.
Even if it meant being harsh, blunt, and painfully direct.
That was the duty of a servant.
"To guide, not to please."
"Thankfully they’re safe—"
His words cut off the moment he saw what the soldiers were dragging behind them.
Not just Alice.
But the blood-soaked, severed corpse of a Snow Lion.
One of the deadliest beasts in the northern dungeons.
Hans froze.
"...Is that—"
"The real thing," said Alice, her voice tinged with pride. Her silver-white hair was still wind-tossed, and streaks of red clung to her armor.
She looked like a war maiden carved from legend.
"Safe?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "I didn’t just survive—I brought back the greatest kill of my Successor Trial."
Hans blinked, stunned silent for a moment.
Behind her, Julies limped out of the trees, one arm cradling his ribs. Despite the obvious pain, there was a crooked smile on his face—and something else Hans hadn’t seen in the boy before.
Conviction.
He was filthy, bloodied, and clearly had no clue how ridiculous he looked.
But Hans recognized the light in his eyes.
Something had changed.
Hans’s gaze shifted to the snow lion corpse again. Then to Alice.
He was reminded of his own youth. Of the cold that cut into his bones when he too ventured out for his Successor Trial, thinking himself ready. Most weren’t. The North didn’t forgive pride or foolishness. He’d nearly died that day—most did.
And yet...
They had returned alive.
No—more than that.
They had returned victorious.
Still it was dengerous. They could die.
Hans stepped forward, every muscle tense, his boots grinding against the snow.
Julies straightened up a little, wincing from the movement, but tried not to flinch under Hans’s stare.
"You—" Hans’s voice cracked like ice, sharp and low. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?"
Julies opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Hans stalked toward him, his eyes flicking over the boy’s tattered clothes, the bruises blooming along his jaw, the torn sleeve barely clinging to his shoulder. His frustration boiled over.
"You’re not from here. You don’t understand how easily people die out there."
He gestured behind them to the blood-smeared snow and the massive corpse of the Snow Lion.
"That thing has wiped out entire squads of trained knights. And you—barely older than a squire—thought you could handle it? Were you trying to die?"
"I didn’t—" Julies started, but Alice cut him off.
"He didn’t try to stop me."
Hans turned to her, disbelief flashing across his face.
"What?"
Alice folded her arms, chin lifted defiantly. "I told him I was going. He followed."
"So you dragged him into this?" Hans snapped.
He knows that as her servent he can’t talk to her like that but this situation allowed to him do so.
He knows that Duke would understand.
She narrowed her eyes. "No. He followed because he trusted me. Or maybe because he was too stubborn to be left behind. Either way... if he’d stopped me, if we went back, then I wouldn’t have faced the Snow Lion."
At that moment Julies eyes turned towards Alice.
’She’s lying.’
Of course she was even Hans could tell but he didn’t Stop her.
He has no right to do as her servent.
Her voice dropped to something colder. Firmer.
"And then what? I return from my Successor Trial with the corpse of a winter boar or an ice snake? That’s no achievement. No glory. No proof."
Hans stared at her, lips drawn tight. His breath steamed in the cold.
Julies remained quiet.
Alice stepped toward the Snow Lion’s body, placed her hand gently on its matted fur. Then, with a small tug, she drew open her cloak.
And out peeked the pup.
Its fur was still damp and matted with dried blood. Its pale blue eyes flicked warily between the humans, and it made a low, uncertain growl.
Hans reeled back.
"Is that—?!"
"Yes," Alice replied.
"You brought a cub with you?" Hans’s voice rose. "Are you out of your mind My Lady? Do you have any idea how dangerous those things are? When it matures, it will be faster, stronger, and crueler than anything you’ve faced. You might’ve brought back your own death."
Alice didn’t flinch. "It’s mine. A trophy."
"A trophy?!" Hans barked, stepping closer. "It’s not a head to hang on your wall—it breathes, it kills! Even now, it’s probably thinking of the best way to gut you in your sleep!"
Julies shifted uncomfortably. The pup had curled tighter against his chest.
Then Alice said flatly, "I’ll tame it."
Hans blinked. "You’ll what?"
"I’ll raise it. Train it. And if it ever kills someone—" She turned to Hans, her silver eyes sharp like drawn steel. "Then Julies dies too."
Julies froze.
"What?" he managed.
Alice didn’t look at him.
Hans’s mouth opened, then shut again. It took him a full five seconds before he could form words.
"Have you lost your mind entirely Lady Alice?"
Alice just shrugged. "He agreed to keep it."
"I—" Julies started, but her glare silenced him.
Hans rubbed his temple again, muttering under his breath, "Of all the reckless, impossible—"
Then he paused.
He looked again at the boy. At Alice. At the bloody lion corpse, and the pup blinking up from under Julies’s cloak.
This shouldn’t have worked.
It shouldn’t have been possible.
And yet...
The Snow Lion was dead. Alice had done what no noble heir in decades had dared. And Julies—this soft-spoken, clueless southern noble—had survived it. Not just survived. He’d come back with something in his arms, something he was willing to protect, despite the odds.
Hans exhaled.
Maybe it was luck. Maybe foolishness.
But sometimes... that’s exactly how legends begin.
"...Fine," he said at last. "You can keep your monster."
Julies blinked. "Really?"
Hans’s eyes narrowed. "But if it so much as growls at anyone in the castle, I’m feeding it to the frost hounds myself. And you’ll go right after it, boy."
"Yes, sir."
Alice smirked. "Don’t worry. I’ll keep him in check."
Hans grumbled, but said nothing more.
The wind howled again across the peaks as night finally fell, and the group began their trek back—leaving behind the bloodstained snow, the broken fangs of a dead beast.