"Do you not think it's a bit too unfair?"
Shelley suddenly asked as they both walked toward the cave entrance.
They left the empty hall behind and were now in the tunnel.
Though it was the middle of polar night, the brightness outside the cave was still a notch higher than the pitch-black inside, with a faint glimmer seeping through the entrance.
Colin's steps faltered slightly, but he did not pick up the conversation.
Shelley looked out into the deep, dark night and continued,
"Those from Pureblood Families are born noble, while the people of Ancient North Village are regarded as mere dust. Yet, essentially, their souls all carry the same weight."
Standing behind Shelley, Colin could not see her expression, but he thought for a moment and said,
"In a world where power returns to oneself, these things are bound to happen."
Shelley turned to glance at Colin and, after pausing for a moment, said, "You're right, perhaps without the Divine, without Wizards, without Demon Beasts and oddities... If everyone were ordinary, the world might be better."
"Or perhaps not," Colin shook his head, his tone ethereal.
Shelley did not argue but instead looked once more into the dark night. After standing still for a moment, she continued forward,
"Let's go, let's see this Ancient North Village you spoke of."
..........
Ancient North Village.
The blizzard had subsided, but the villagers were still busy.
"Quick! Put some more effort into it!"
Next to a dome-shaped snow hut ruin, the village chief Hunter directed several villagers to lift a massive block of ice and shouted, "I can see him already!"
"Hey!" With a grunt from the villagers, the large block of ice was suddenly lifted, and beside them, the vigilant Chief Hunter and Robin hurriedly pulled the man caught underneath out.
A dark crimson trail instantly formed on the snow. Hunter took a closer look and realized the man's lower leg was a gruesome, bloody mess.
He sighed and handed the unconscious man to Robin by his side.
Seeing the man's mangled lower leg, Robin's pupils shrank, and he couldn't help but catch his breath.
A moment later, Robin stretched a hand to the fingers hanging outside his clothes, bit his lip, and with effort, carried the man onto a nearby sleigh.
After doing this, he watched as Chief Hunter continued with the villagers toward the next ruin.
Robin took a deep breath, picked up the rope of the sleigh, and, dispersing his own breath's white fog, hurried toward the round dome house.
The village's only doctor was there, trying to save several severely injured villagers found earlier. His task was to transport this newly rescued patient there to join the others, awaiting further treatment.
Robin, still just a boy of only fourteen, had not yet fully grown. His strength was limited, and, running quickly for a while with held breath, he inevitably slowed down.
He tried to control his breathing, not to inhale the outside air, which was too cold, too quickly, as it could damage his nasal passages.
Robin adjusted the hat on his head and, looking up slightly, his gaze fell on the watchtower nearby. He could barely make out a person named Dempsey, the Wizard, observing the surroundings.
Robin thought that if this person could come to help like before, they might have already finished searching through all the ruins.
But Dempsey claimed he needed to be on the lookout, in case the Snow Monsters returned.
Yet, when the Snow Monsters did appear again, nobody even saw Dempsey's figure.
Instead, just before entering the round snow house, Robin had seen a few shadow-like figures spring into action...
Later, when he asked the chief, he learned that those might be mysterious helpers left by another Wizard.
'If only the other Wizard were here too, with two of them, perhaps one could spare the time to help us,' he thought.
Robin looked back at the man lying on the sleigh, barely alive, and realized his complexion had already turned deathly pale.
His face abruptly changed color, and he stopped in his tracks, bending down to check the man's breathing.
After a moment, he straightened up and, with no time to pay attention to anything else, grabbed the pulling rope across his chest and ran forward with all his might.
"Panting—panting—"
Robin ran so hard he could hardly catch his breath. The cold air, like a dagger, entered through his nostrils and stabbed down into his lungs. Before reaching his destination, he had also slipped and fallen twice.
Fortunately, he eventually arrived. The villagers, guarding the entrance, seeing his hurried steps, came to meet him from afar.
"Quick... save him," Robin, bent over with hands on his knees, gasping, pointed to the man on the sleigh.
The two villagers who rushed to meet him didn't say much; one took the rope for the sleigh from Robin and fastened it to himself, while the other followed behind the sleigh, pushing hard.
Robin stood in place panting heavily, feeling as though his lungs were pierced by the cold, threatening to shatter, his heart pounding fiercely.
He looked up as the sleigh moved away, coughed a few times, straightened up, and followed.
Thump.
The sleigh stopped at the door of the snow house.
"Quick, help me get him inside," the ahead villager said urgently as he removed the rope from around his body and prepared to lift the man by his legs.
But as he reached out, his companion slowly raised his head and said in astonishment, "Gus, I think he's already dead."