Heavy snow fell wildly, blanketing the world in a chaotic white under a leaden gray sky.
The snowy mountains were wrapped thickly in snow, their greenish-black ridges appearing and disappearing in the swirling blizzard.
The wind howled, carrying icy flakes, and shattered ice along the cliffs crackled relentlessly.
This was the Northern Frontier of the Holy Light Empire, a land locked in ice through all seasons, where snow never ceased to fall.
Across the desolate snowy plains, a blue-haired girl in military garb trudged forward, struggling beneath the weight of a greatsword that dwarfed her own height.
Goose-feather snowflakes swept across the world, turning the path ahead into a murky haze, dusting the girl’s blue hair with a pale, frosted hue.
“Huff, huff, huff!”
Her chest heaved violently, warm breaths crashing into the storm, instantly turning into scattered white mist.
“I have to go even faster.”
She glanced back at the endless white plains, ignoring her exhausted body.
Wiping her frost-reddened cheeks with a trembling hand, she pressed on.
Suddenly, a rustling sound came from afar.
The girl’s brow furrowed; she tightened the cloth straps over her shoulders and quickened her pace, leaving behind footprints of varying depth in the snow.
Before long, a group of figures emerged, tearing through the storm.
They were lightly dressed, their rough linen barely covering their bulging muscles.
Thin layers of frost clung to their bare arms, but they seemed not to care in the least.
The leader, a burly man, bent down and brushed a hand over a set of footprints that had not yet been covered by snow, a sinister smile curling at his lips.
“She can’t escape! Up ahead is the Broken Soul Cliff, a dead end! If we catch this Auckland Household brat, we’ll finally have the leverage to challenge that General!”
The others all nodded, eyes burning with greed. Their footsteps grew hurried as they followed the tracks, their figures quickly swallowed by the wind and snow.
Only when their presence had completely faded did a blue-haired head cautiously peek out from behind a block of ice.
She looked warily in all directions; confirming there was no one around, she staggered back, collapsing into the snow, gasping for air.
As Anya Auckland of the Auckland Household, she never imagined that as soon as she set foot again on the Northern Frontier, she’d be hunted down and cornered by a band of mountain bandits.
To cover her escape, the household servants had risked their lives to lure away most of the pursuers, but this small group clung to her like a festering sore, refusing to let go.
Anya knew full well the road ahead was a dead end, yet she had purposely left half-footprints, retraced her steps, and hid behind this ice stone.
The long journey had left her drowsy; her heavy eyelids kept drooping, as if she might fall asleep at any moment.
Melted snow dripped from her hair onto her eyelids; the freezing sensation brought her abruptly back to alertness.
Anya moistened her cracked lips, tasting a bitter chill on the tip of her tongue.
She used her greatsword to push herself to her feet, the scabbard pressing into the snow with a soft “tok.”
“I can’t wait… Sooner or later, they’ll notice something’s wrong and double back.”
The snow seemed to fall even harder now, icy flakes stinging Anya’s small face.
“I have to hurry home.” Anya forced her weary body forward, staggering toward the road home.
“Home?”
A sinister, chilling laugh sliced through the howling storm, hissing in her ear like the tongue of a venomous snake.
“Little girl, did you really think you could fool those fools—and fool me too?”
From the curtain of snow nearby, a burly man slowly emerged.
He was bare-chested, his bronzed skin shining coldly in the flying snow. At the sight, Anya’s heart clenched, almost stopping.
With her exhausted body, the chance of escaping from this bandit was zero.
If she succeeded, it would surely be a miracle.
“I noticed early on that the footprints in the snow overlapped twice, so I’ve been waiting here for you to come out.”
The burly man grinned broadly, the falling snow striking his bare torso, making him look all the more fearsome.
“You’re clever, outwitting those dumb brutes. Yet in the end, you handed the achievement to me. I should really thank you for that, little Auckland brat.”
Anya pressed her lips together, staring silently at the man. Her hands, however, gripped the sword hilt tightly.
“Still thinking of resisting? With your frail body right now, you probably can’t even stand straight, can you? Better come quietly—I promise I’ll take good care of you.”
Greed burned in the man’s eyes as his gaze swept over her slender form.
“Screw it!”
A wave of disgust hit Anya; she drew her greatsword in a flash, using every last bit of strength to slash at the man.
“You humans are as stubborn as ever. Very well, let me show you the difference between us, little girl!”
The man roared. His muscles bulged, veins twisting like coiling dragons. Scales burst from beneath his skin, glinting coldly like metal.
These people— they’re Dragonkin…
Anya’s shock barely registered before an overwhelming force surged up her sword, splitting her grip.
The blade flew from her hands.
Her body felt like a kite with its string cut, hurled by the brute’s strength.
She crashed heavily into the snow, kicking up a cloud of white.
Icy snow soaked through her clothes. Staring up at the ashen sky, Anya felt bitterness rise within her.
Will Father come to ransom me? Or… is nothing ahead but endless nightmares?
She slowly closed her eyes, letting the bone-piercing chill engulf her, ready to become a captive.
Drowsiness swept over her once more. Her eyelids felt as heavy as lead, and she couldn’t keep them open.
Just as she was about to lose consciousness, a warm current suddenly rose in her chest, spreading through her limbs and bones.
The warmth made her entire body tingle; the pain and exhaustion vanished in an instant.
What’s happening?
Anya opened her eyes in astonishment. Before her was not the boundless snowy plain, but a wondrous, shimmering little world.
“Where… is this?” She was completely at a loss. Was this a hallucination brought on by the brink of death?
She looked around, discovering she wasn’t alone. Not far away, a white-haired bundle curled up, breathing evenly, sound asleep.
Still confused, Anya walked over and watched the little white bundle softly snoring, unsure whether to call out or remain silent.
She couldn’t help but examine the girl’s features: a delicate oval face with smooth lines, porcelain skin tinged with a natural blush, like a freshly peeled lychee.
Her dainty nose turned up slightly, its tip rosy, lips full and moist as cherries.
If there was a flaw, it would be her short stature— and, well, the utter flatness of her chest.
Perhaps sensing a stranger, the white-haired bundle frowned slightly, then sat up, rubbing her drowsy eyes.
“Mmm… where am I?”
Her azure eyes were still glazed with mist, utterly bewildered.
Her long snowy hair, soft and fluffy as moonlit clouds, draped over her shoulders.
A few stray locks brushed her cheeks, making Anya stare blankly for a moment.
“I haven’t slept this well in ages~” The white-haired girl stretched lazily, unconsciously puffing a little bubble from her lips.
“Supplementary exchange”
She still seemed half-asleep, her eyes unfocused as she looked around, only to find a blue-haired girl staring straight at her.
“Damn you, you wretched woman!”
The white-haired girl poked her own flat chest, then groped her lower half for a moment, finally raising her middle finger to the sky with a sudden shriek. Anya stared, utterly confused.
Is she cursing at me?
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