Chapter 31 (31): The Village Of The Hero’s Sword: 01

Late morning arrived quietly in the mountains.

The blizzard had not stopped. It never truly stopped in the Decle Region. What it did instead was change its mood. During the night it had roared like an angry animal trying to tear the cabin apart plank by plank. Now it had settled into something calmer. Snow still fell, but gently, drifting down in thin white threads. The wind still pushed against the walls, yet it sounded less like a scream and more like someone breathing through their teeth.

Inside the cabin, the fire in the hearth had burned low.

The wooden room held a comfortable warmth that felt almost suspicious considering the weather outside. Fern had spent most of the early morning feeding the fire with the last of the dry logs they had found stacked against the wall. Every now and then she would glance toward Stark to make sure the warmth reached him.

Stark had not woken once.

Sein sat beside him, rubbing his hands together and watching the boy’s breathing with the tense patience of someone who had spent his life looking for signs that something was wrong.

Kraft stood near the small window, staring outside as if measuring the mood of the storm itself.

Frieren had been awake for hours. She sat on the edge of the bed where she had slept, her eyes half open in that usual lazy way of hers, though today there was less laziness and more quiet focus.

At some point the fire crackled loudly.

Kraft turned away from the window. “It’s time,” he said.

The words were simple and carried no dramatic tone. He spoke them in the same calm voice someone might use when announcing dinner.

Sein blinked and looked up. “Now?”

Kraft nodded. “It’s late morning already. If we leave now we should reach the place within eighteen to twenty hours if we walk fast.”

Fern’s head lifted from where she had been adjusting Stark’s blankets. “There’s still a drizzle outside,” she said.

The snow had softened, but it had not stopped. White dust drifted slowly past the window.

Kraft walked toward the door and placed a hand against the wood. Cold seeped through the plank even from inside.

“We should go anyway,” he replied. “If we wait for perfect weather we might stay here for weeks.” His eyes moved briefly to Stark. “The longer we wait, the longer the boy suffers.”

That was enough to end the discussion.

Fern stood and began to move around the room with quiet efficiency. She packed the remaining supplies, folded spare cloths, and secured the bags they had brought with them.

Frieren walked to the door and stood there silently, her hand resting on the latch as if she could already feel the cold waiting outside.

Sein rose carefully.

Stark stirred faintly when he was lifted. Not enough to wake, only enough to remind them that his body still reacted to movement.

Sein secured the unconscious boy against his back and tightened the cloth straps he had improvised earlier.

Kraft stepped forward.

“I should carry him,” the elf said. “I am stronger and my stamina is better.”

Sein shook his head almost immediately. “I’ll do it.”

Kraft watched him for a moment. “You will tire.”

“Probably.”

Kraft crossed his arms. “We cannot afford to slow down.”

“I know.”

Sein adjusted Stark’s weight slightly and rolled his shoulders to test the balance. “I want to do this,” he said.

The words were quiet but firm.

For a moment the cabin was silent except for the faint sound of snow brushing the roof.

Kraft studied him a little longer. Then he nodded. “Very well. But if you feel tired, say so immediately.”

“I will.”

Fern finished tying the last strap on one of the bags and slung it across her shoulder. “We can go now,” she said.

Frieren opened the door. Cold rushed inside instantly.

The wind was not violent anymore, but the air itself carried a sharp bite that crept into clothing the moment someone stepped outside.

They left the cabin one by one.

The door closed behind them with a dull thud that sounded strangely final.

The world outside had turned pale and quiet.

Snow stretched across the ground like a blank sheet, broken only by low rocks and the occasional stubborn tree branch poking through the surface.

Kraft began walking first. Fern followed behind him. Sein walked carefully with Stark’s weight on his back.

Frieren moved alongside them and raised one hand. Mana spread outward in a thin ripple. A faint veil formed around the group, invisible to the eye but noticeable in the way the cold suddenly felt less aggressive.

The wind still pushed against them, yet it lost some of its sharp teeth.

Sein noticed it almost immediately. “That helps,” he said.

Frieren gave a small nod.

The group settled into a steady pace.

Their footsteps pressed into the snow in a single line, leaving a clear path behind them that the drifting flakes slowly tried to erase.

Hours passed quietly at first.

The landscape did not change much. The Decle Region seemed designed by someone who loved snow a little too much. Hills rolled into other hills. Rocks appeared where one least expected them. The sky remained a dull gray sheet with the sun barely visible behind it.

At one point Sein cleared his throat. “Kraft.”

The elf did not slow his pace but turned his head slightly. “Yes?”

Sein hesitated briefly, choosing his words. “I was thinking about something.”

“That is usually a good sign.”

Sein smiled faintly. “Frieren once told me that in elf terms she is still considered young. A teenager, more or less.”

Frieren made a quiet sound that might have been annoyance. “I’m older than you,” she said without looking back.

“That is not the point,” Sein replied.

He shifted Stark’s weight slightly and continued. “If she is young by your standards, then you must be… well, a fully grown adult.”

“That would be correct.”

“Which means you must have lived for far longer.”

Kraft gave a small shrug. “That would also be correct.”

Sein walked in silence for a few more steps before asking the next question. “Were you an adventurer?”

Kraft’s boots crunched against the snow. “I used to be.”

“Used to?”

“A very long time ago.”

Fern glanced back briefly, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

Sein seemed pleased that the conversation had begun. “I thought so,” he said.

“Oh?”

“I saw your statue once.”

Kraft stopped walking.

It was not a dramatic stop. He simply slowed, then stood still for a moment as the others took a few extra steps before noticing.

“A statue,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

Sein looked a little embarrassed suddenly.

“In a small village. It was quite old. Moss growing on the base. It was worn out.”

Kraft turned around slowly. His expression was thoughtful. “I didn’t know they still existed,” he said.

He smiled gently. “My accomplishments faded long ago with time.”

Sein shook his head. “Maybe the stories faded,” he said. “But the statue was still there.” He looked ahead again, remembering. “A long time ago, my friend and I passed through that village.”

“Your friend?”

Sein chuckled quietly.

“He called himself Gorilla Warrior.”

Fern nearly slipped in the snow. Frieren glanced back.

Kraft raised an eyebrow. “That is… a confident name.”

“Yes,” Sein said. “He chose it himself. No one else approved it.”

Frieren’s lips twitched slightly.

Sein continued walking as he spoke. “We didn’t know who the statue was at first. The writing had worn away. But it didn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“Because we looked at it and thought something simple.”

“What was that?”

“We thought… someone stood here once. Someone strong enough that people built a statue for them.”

Sein’s voice softened.

“We were just two kids. Neither of us knew much about the world. But standing there, looking at that statue… we felt inspired.”

Kraft listened without interrupting.

“We decided we wanted to be adventurers too,” Sein said. “We wanted to leave something behind. A mark. Something that would tell people we existed.”

He laughed quietly. “Very childish dream.”

Kraft shook his head. “Not childish.”

Sein’s smile faded slightly.

“Gorilla Warrior left one day.”

“Left?”

“Yes. Packed his things. Said he was going to explore the world.”

“And you did not go with him.”

“No.” Sein’s steps slowed for a moment. “I stayed behind.” He looked down at the snow. “I regret it even now.”

The wind shifted slightly, brushing snow across the path behind them.

“That’s why I’m here now,” Sein continued. “When I saw Stark lying there and realized I couldn’t help him… I thought maybe this was my chance to do something.”

Kraft turned his gaze forward again. For a long moment he did not speak. Then he said quietly, “This is the future now.”

Sein blinked.

Kraft gestured vaguely ahead as they walked. “The world has changed a great deal since the time when people built statues for wandering adventurers.”

“How so?”

“We have scholars now,” Kraft said. “Historians. Libraries. People who dedicate their lives to recording the deeds of others.”

Fern listened quietly.

“In my era,” Kraft continued, “a person could perform many great acts and still fade into obscurity if no one happened to carve their name into stone.”

He looked back at Sein and smiled. “Do not worry.”

Sein frowned slightly. “About what?”

“Unlike me,” Kraft said gently, “your name will not fade."

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