Amelia shuddered as the chill winds of the Outside swept across her face.

It had been two days since Ryn and Fritz left on the infiltration mission. She hadn't heard anything since, but decided to worry about her own tasks.

They'll be fine.

She looked back at the group now crowding around Jay.

In that short span of time, things had changed—quietly, yet drastically.

Jay crouched near the edge of the terraced clearing, sleeves rolled up as he examined the dark-leafed plants pushing through the snow-dusted soil.

Frost clung to their outer leaves, but the stems remained firm, green veins glowing faintly beneath the surface.

"They'll survive," Jay said at last, straightening with a tired grin.

"Cold-resistant. Slow growth, but steady. If we keep the soil insulated like this, they'll last."

Around him, a few tribesfolk murmured in disbelief.

Plants that could grow here, not scavenged nor traded, but cultivated, were worth more than food.

They were a lifeline.

Taylor exhaled sharply beside Amelia. "It actually worked out."

Amelia nodded, eyes lingering on the plot for a moment longer than necessary. Jay had been right.

The Outside didn't lack resources—they lacked ingenuity.

Word spread faster than Amelia had expected. Not just among the rabbitfolk of the Moonlight Tribe, but outward.

Across the frozen paths and narrow valleys that connected the scattered Outside tribes.

Small groups arrived first, then larger ones.

Different horns, ears, and ways of speaking and dressing.

At first, they didn't get along. But through the combined efforts of both Princess and Duchess, they finally understood each other.

Shared problems and quiet understanding gave way to something different.

By the second night, the Moonlight Tribe was no longer just the rabbitfolk.

It was something broader.

The beginning of a gathering.

Amelia started to walk back in, watching fires spark to life one by one. Laughter drifted through the cold air.

For the first time since they got here, things felt…stable.

Good, even.

She let herself breathe.

That was when the snow shifted.

Amelia's hand went to her wand immediately.

The temperature didn't drop, but something moved against it, like a presence sliding through the cold instead of disturbing it.

The beast emerged without sound.

White fur and low to the ground. Its body blended into the snow completely.

Amelia stepped forward without hesitation.

"Back," she ordered, voice carrying across the clearing.

The creature didn't charge or snarl.

It simply stood there, then slowly lowered its head, forelegs bending as its front body dipped toward the ground.

Amelia narrowed her eyes and took another step, weight shifting subtly, when a voice stopped her.

"Amelia—wait."

Jay's voice cut through the tension.

He was staring at the beast, eyes wide with recognition.

"…Don't," he said quickly. "Don't attack it."

Amelia glanced back at him, confused.

"Jay, that thing just walked into the middle of—"

"I know," he interrupted. He swallowed once. "I know what it looks like."

The beast's gaze flicked toward Jay.

Just for a moment.

Jay exhaled slowly, hands raised in surrender.

"That's Snow," he continued. "A beast that Ryn tamed in the Isles."

He winced slightly.

"Long story."

Silence settled over the clearing.

Amelia looked at the beast again, at Snow's stillness, the way it held its position despite weapons being drawn.

Alone.

Jay's hands lowered slowly.

"…Wait," he murmured.

Amelia didn't answer him.

Her gaze flicked once, scanning the treeline. Yet, it looked like there were no other footprints.

Her jaw tightened.

Jay swallowed.

"If Snow's here…" he started, then stopped.

He didn't finish the thought.

He didn't have to.

Amelia's grip tightened on her weapon, knuckles whitening.

Ryn didn't send Snow to scout.

He sent it because he couldn't come himself.

The realization hit them both at the same time.

She stepped closer to Snow, studying it properly now—the faint residue of blood along its fur, the way its posture was alert and urgent.

"Where is he?" Amelia asked quietly.

Snow lowered itself, one shoulder dipping, unmistakable in intent.

Amelia didn't hesitate.

"Jay, hold the fort," she said without looking back. "Taylor, you're coming with me."

Once they both got on, Snow stood up and stretched, eyes clear to the path it must take.

Amelia patted Snow's neck once, then said—

"Take me to him."

***

[Blessing Evolved: Aquila — The Eyes that See Through Despair]

Ryn felt it immediately.

The executioner had stopped playing around.

Pressure became denser all around, the ground cracking in jagged lines beneath Kharik's boots.

"Enough."

His Blessing surged.

It wasn't anything flashy, more like rage condensed into power. The executioner vanished in a blur.

The first strike came down in a killing arc meant to split Ryn from collarbone to hip.

Ryn moved before the blade finished rising.

His foot slid half a step left, each path now clear as day.

The second strike followed instantly, a horizontal sweep meant to take his head.

Ryn ducked into it, Snow scraping sparks as he deflected the flat just enough to twist the blade off-line.

His eyes burned.

Blood spilled freely now, blurring the edges of his vision as if the snow hadn't hindered it enough.

The third attack wasn't aimed at him.

Kharik drove his greatsword into the ground.

The earth detonated.

Ryn saw it coming instantly— it was a feint.

And he was proven right, as he ducked instead of jumping. A thrust passed where his chest had been, millimeters away.

Ryn came up on one knee, already moving.

He slashed across Kharik's forearm as the executioner overextended, the strike shallow but precise. Blood flowed instantly against white fur.

Kharik snarled in irritation.

The killing blows kept coming.

Downward cleave. Reverse sweep. A thrust aimed straight through the heart.

Each one avoided by margins so thin they felt unreal.

Ryn didn't counter properly anymore. He chipped away at the man's stamina.

A cut across the thigh during recovery. A stab into a joint gap—then immediate disengage.

Almost as if… he was reading the future.

But every success had cost him.

The more he relied on it, the more his vision fractured, like clarity and blur existing at the same time.

Metal rang as he parried another attack.

Ryn felt it through the hilt.

The executioner's movements slowed, just slightly.

Kharik was getting tired.

Ryn saw it.

He had overextended on the attack, weight shifting just a fraction forward. The opening was there, unmistakable.

Ryn planted his foot and raised his blade.

Strike coming down until…

"—ghk!"

Rupture.

Blood burst free in a hot, violent rush, flooding down his face as the world shattered into lightless fragments. His vision collapsed inward, clarity snuffed out all at once as if someone had torn the scene away.

Ryn staggered, sword slipping from his numb fingers as his knees hit the ground hard.

Darkness swallowed everything, no more futures nor paths.

Nothing.

For a heartbeat, he thought this was it.

Then—

KRRAACK!

The explosion tore through the silence like a god slamming their fist onto the world.

A shockwave rolled over him, heat and pressure washing across his body as snow screamed somewhere nearby.

Right where Kharik had been.

Ryn sucked in a ragged breath, heart slamming against his ribs.

What…?

"Honestly," a voice said, dry and unmistakable even through the ringing in his ear.

"I leave you alone for two days, and this is what happens."

Ryn's chest hitched.

That voice—

"Just rest," it continued, closer now. "I'll take over from here."

Relief hit him harder than any blow.

A shaky breath escaped his lips.

"…Took you long enough," Ryn muttered weakly into the dark.

"Mmm," she replied. "Good job for holding on."

He barely managed to open his eyes as a figure stepped fully into view.

Her hair was a blazing red as an aura of pure flames enveloped her form, snow evaporating into water instantly.

Ryn smiled.

Seems like he wasn't the only one that'd gotten stronger.

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