The snow that fell that night only added to Averroes's suffering and that of the other prisoners.
Some could no longer walk-their feet dragged, iron chains clinking faintly on rock and ice. One by one they collapsed, dying of the cold, then were heartlessly thrown into the steep ravine shrouded in mist.
"Don't look back! Keep walking!"
shouted one of the Justice soldiers, his voice echoing through the snowy ravine.
Dum!
A loud sound rang out right beside Averroes.
"Are you alright?"
He looked down and saw a young woman collapsed. Her lips and hands had turned blue; her body trembled weakly.
Averroes glanced behind-this time he ignored the threats-and all he saw were empty chains being dragged across the snow. No owner remained.
His heart trembled violently, but there were no tears.
"Throw that child away."
came the voice of a Justice soldier from behind.
"Please... don't."
Averroes begged in a weak voice.
"Let me bury her... don't just throw her away like that."
Dish!
A hard punch struck his gut. Averroes crumpled, the chains in his hands clattering loudly.
"Shut up, traitor!"
Blows and kicks assailed him without mercy. Averroes's lips split; blood dotted the white snow.
"This is the fate of those who refuse to bow to the rule of the Five Divine Emperors!"
the Justice soldier sneered as he drew near, breath steaming in the cold.
He raised his fist to strike again-but his movement suddenly froze mid-air.
"Leave him."
A low, hoarse voice rolled from the front.
Everyone turned. Commander Orovera now stood before them, his face half-veiled by the snowy mist, his eyes glowing red.
"Why, sir? Have you suddenly grown pity for this child?"
the soldier laughed cruelly. "They don't deserve to live! Hahaha!"
He raised his fist once more-and flame-magic flared around it. The punch shot toward Averroes-
Tang!
Orovera's hand caught the blow with an open palm. The burning glow of magic vanished instantly, as if swallowed by an unseen force.
Silence fell. Only the wind whispered across the landscape.
"Is he new?"
Orovera's voice was calm yet icy.
"Y-yes, sir! He's been with Justice for three months. This is his first mission-"
another soldier answered, trying to calm the tension.
"Didn't I tell you? Leave him."
Orovera's tone pressed down on them; they all bowed their heads.
He released the man he'd held and turned to Averroes.
"You have three minutes. Finish."
With the last of his strength, Averroes slowly rose. The chains at his wrists jingled with every step. He lifted the frozen girl and laid her gently in the snow, then covered her-a small act of respect, the only farewell he could give.
"Hahaha!"
the soldier's cruel laughter pierced the cold.
"Looks like I misjudged the ranks! Commander Orovera has a soft heart! People like him don't deserve command!"
Orovera stopped mid-step. The snow beneath his boots cracked slightly.
"Say that again."
His voice was heavy, deep-like thunder held back from breaking.
The man sneered. "I said-"
Kraak!
Bushhh!
Before he could finish, the man's skull was crushed in Orovera's grip-squeezed and shattered alive. Blood streamed through Orovera's fingers, dripping onto the white snow now streaked dark red.
Orovera stood upright, still holding the crushed skull. His gaze swept across his soldiers one by one.
No one dared speak.
The night wind sighed softly; only the creak of prisoners' chains marked the onward march into that living hell... a march not yet over.
---
Averroes still knelt there, head bowed, paying tribute to the last prisoner who had accompanied him through this torturous path. Disappointment and emptiness swallowed him, like snow burying hope one flake at a time.
I'm the last one left... why? Why am I the one who survives? Why must I bear this fate?
Wait. Purpose...?
His head throbbed suddenly. A voice echoed in his mind-hoarse, deep, like an echo from the past.
His eyes opened a fraction. His breath steamed in the cold air.
"But I think... maybe that shadow is a sign. A clue that something big will happen,"
Lucia's voice chimed in his memory.
A flicker of his father's face appeared.
"Averroes, you promised your father... find the secret of that dream."
"No, father!"
A flash of memory struck-his father unleashing a great spell in their last moments to save them from a beam of light that had come from who-knows-where.
Averroes closed his eyes, and for an instant the world fell still. In that silence he heard the echo of footsteps-his own-standing on an endless white plain. The wind whispered again:
"Rise."
"...Time's up!"
snapped a rough voice behind him.
His breath came in ragged bursts. He forced himself up, knees trembling; the chains at his wrists swung and jingled. But this time, his steps were not merely dragged-each step carried a newly born resolve forged from pain.
"I... I SWEAR I will topple the World Alliance, the Five Divine Emperors... and this damned world. The first to be buried will be that betrayer."
He meant Ferrando-the mask-name; the true name: Immanuel Kanze.
Snow whirled around him, spinning like white flames. In his eyes a tiny spark of fire burned-ignited from vengeance-small, but enough to kindle and scorch fate itself.
----
The sun burned across the vast desert. Hot winds swept sharp dust across skin, scorching every inch they touched. They had left the frozen hell of the Tes Mountains-but now were dragged into another hell of scorching heat.
Five days had passed since Averroes had last been given food; only a few sips of water had been handed out during brief stops. The chains where they bound his wrists had chafed his skin raw; his body felt like the walking dead-not for appearance, but because his energy had been drained, yet he was forced onward by the metal bound to his flesh.
His eyes opened slowly. "Where am I?" he whispered.
The harsh sunlight blinded him at first; slowly he realized-he stood on a barren desert plain.
Before him Orovera rode a large horse, surrounded by several Justice soldiers. One of them held the chain attached to Averroes's wrist. Immanuel's silhouette was absent; the last time Averroes had seen him was in the Tes Mountains.
"We'll reach Njmol city soon. We'll wait for Lord Immanuel and the other column there, then continue to Xynastra," the deep commanding voice said from ahead.
"Yes, Lord Orovera," they chorused.
From a distance, a dark shape emerged, growing larger as it approached. Averroes squinted-the outline of Njmol city loomed on the horizon.
Relief mixed with anxiety-relief to see a city, worry about what awaited there. He knew he had to start planning-this might be his only chance to change his fate.
"Commander Orovera!"
a man shouted from afar, standing before the city gate. He wore luxurious white clothes; his slightly curly blond hair glinted. He waved at Orovera and the passing troops amid the bustle of the avenue.
"What are you all staring at? Move aside, give them way!" the man ordered his guards.
"Execute the orders at once!" they responded with bows.
"Make way! Make way! Soldiers from the World Alliance are passing through!" they cried, pushing the crowd aside. Some had already queued since early morning, only to be shoved back when their turn came.
"I hate this World Alliance. They act like they can do whatever they want," grumbled one commoner.
"Exactly... they call it justice, but where is it? We pay taxes, yet we're treated like trash," replied another.
Their words reached a passing guard, who shoved the speaking man. He staggered and bumped into a cart, scattering flour and provisions across the ground.
"You ordinary people, behave like ordinary folk. Don't act special. Or I'll detain you for rebellion!" the guard barked.
The man slumped, suppressing his outrage. He stared hard at the ground.
What's the use... who's really acting special?
the thought echoed-spoken, it might cost him his life.
The guard sneered. "You know, if you're charged with rebellion, do you know the punishment?" he said with a small laugh.
"Heh, knew you'd shut up eventually."
"the guard said mockingly , turning away and kicking the spilled grain.
---
"How do you do, Commander? How was your journey?"
a man bowed slightly, hand placed over his chest in respect.
Orovera ignored him. He dismounted and strode past the gate with casual composure.
"Do you need anything? Food? Or...women? Hehehe."
the man hurried to keep up, trying to garner attention.
"Really?" Orovera stopped. The clanking of armor and the flutter of his cloak fell silent with him.
"Y-yes, sir... women? I can arrange that now. Or tonight? Hehehe-"
"Don't bother me."
Orovera's voice was low but carried a killing aura. His gaze was so sharp it seemed it could slice the man.
"S-sir... I don't flatter you just to curry favor,"
the man stammered, voice faltering, "but... this is my duty as one of Njmol's foremost nobles."
"Heh... 'foremost noble' you say!?"
an interjecting voice cut in. A thinly dressed man who displayed his broad chest sat upon a grand chair carried by four servants. Behind him marched several armored guards.
Orovera immediately knelt in respect upon recognizing the newcomer. The blond man before him only exhaled in mild boredom.
"Hmph... so it's you again, Robert. What do you want this time?" he said in a tedious tone.
Robert raised his hand-a small gesture that made the servants lower the chair to the ground. He rose slowly, dusting off his robe, then smiled with cruel finesse.
"You ought to call me by a more fitting name... Oh, Albavi," he said with a wicked grin.
"Just when he'd started to rise in prominence, he got arrogant. Ugh... how annoying, "Albavi thought, clenching his teeth inside. He knew Robert was a new noble, but rumor had it Robert had bought swathes of land and houses in Njmol-enough to threaten Albavi's position as a candidate for Lord. Worse, Robert was said to have gained support from some influential World Alliance council members; it was as if a 'new Lord candidate' had already been chosen behind closed doors.
"What do you want, Lord Robert Custon?" Albavi asked, pinning his tone down. He kept his face steady though the simmering anger was obvious. Despite his fury, Albavi bowed slightly-custom demanded he feign politeness.
Robert's grin widened. "Ah, don't say Lord so loudly," he said feigning humility. "I'm not yet confirmed by the council. How embarrassing of me..." His voice lowered in mock modesty, enough to make any listener's skin crawl.
He toyed with a ring on his finger. "You know, Albavi," he continued, sounding almost conversational, "Njmol's been getting poorer lately."
Albavi did not respond; he stared straight ahead.
"But it's odd," Robert went on, as if speaking to himself. "With high taxes, operating mines, and active trade, this city should be prosperous. Unless..." He paused, a faint smile forming. "Someone's hoarding more than they should."
Nearby guards lowered their heads, pretending not to hear. A sudden hush fell.
Albavi finally spoke, slow but sharp.
"Your mouth grows bold, Robert Custon. Maybe because too many big names shield you now."
Robert chuckled. "Ah, don't get me wrong. I'm only worried about Njmol's people. Besides..." He leaned in and whispered loud enough for Albavi to hear, "The World Alliance favors leaders who know how to share, not hoard."
Albavi stared at him a long moment. The smile still played on his lips, but his patience had run thin.
"If you think I'll bow just because you bring the council's name, you're gravely mistaken, Robert."
Robert only smiled and lightly slapped Albavi's shoulder-a gesture more insulting than a public slap among nobles.
"We'll see who the council 'favors' soon enough."
He turned and signaled his servants to lift his chair again. His steps were calm, but each footfall left an oppressive weight on Albavi's chest.
"Let's go," Albavi said to his guard. Deep down, he wanted nothing more than to keep arguing with Robert - but reason still held him back. He didn't want to be seen as a noble who had lost his manners.
His guard quickly pushed the crowd aside, clearing a path. Albavi left the place without looking back, only glancing briefly toward Averroes.
Robert watched Albavi's retreating steps, then smiled broadly. It wasn't a smile of amusement - but one laced with subtle mockery.
When Albavi's figure finally disappeared from sight, Robert turned back to Orovera.
"I heard you have a mission. A direct order from the Five Divine Emperors... is that true?" Robert asked, his tone half curious, half pressing.
"Yes, my lord," Orovera replied curtly.
"Who's that boy?" Robert raised an eyebrow, glancing toward Averroes.
Orovera paused for a moment. He turned around, looking at Averroes who stood silently among the soldiers, then faced forward again.
"I'm sorry... I can't tell you. That's classified."
"Surely I'm allowed to know, right?" Robert sneered. "I'll be joining the council soon anyway. I should at least know what kind of mission you're all working on. I can't invest my fortune in something I don't understand, can I?"
"Whatever you wish to say, my lord," Orovera replied firmly, "I still cannot tell you. This is between the Five Divine Emperors and us, the Commanders of Justice."
Robert only smiled, as if he had expected that answer. He let out a quiet sigh.
"Seems that boy's something valuable to the Five Divine Emperors... hahaha," he said jokingly, though his eyes remained sharp.
He lightly patted Orovera's shoulder.
"In any case, as a noble of this land, I must host a celebration - to honor the success of this mission. Come to my manor tonight. Let's have some fun."
"With your grace, we are deeply honored, my lord!" the Justice soldiers replied in unison, their voices ringing with spirit.