Before venturing deep into the frozen wastelands, Raizel's first priority was ensuring Ultear's survival.
While he and Gildarts were physical monsters capable of shrugging off sub-zero temperatures with a grin, Ultear was a frail child whose body had been ravaged by experiments.
They stopped at the last town on the edge of civilization.
Raizel picked out a thick, down-filled parka, a wool hat, heavy snow boots, and several layers of thermal wear for her.
After that, he dragged Gildarts to a tavern for a hot, hearty meal to fuel them for the trek ahead.
"Put it all on my tab!" Gildarts announced, slamming his hand on the table.
Since they had asked Gildarts for help, he naturally covered all the travel expenses and meals.
This was fortunate, because if Raizel had relied solely on his own funds, they might have been eating dried rations.
But with Gildarts—a man whose backpack was filled with dubious "artistic" photo books and S-Class mission reward money—they traveled in relative luxury.
"Still cold?"
They were walking through the endless white expanse now.
Gildarts took the lead to scout the path, his massive frame breaking the wind.
Ultear walked in the middle, bundled up like a little ball of wool, occasionally peeking out to point the way.
Raizel brought up the rear, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.
The Northern Frontier was vast and desolate.
The white horizon stretched as far as the eye could see, merging with the grey sky.
For once, Raizel didn't have to worry about Gildarts accidentally destroying a town—there was nothing here to destroy.
"I... I'm okay," Ultear stammered, her teeth chattering audibly.
Raizel frowned.
Logically, with someone as big as Gildarts blocking the wind in front, it should have been enough to shield her.
But the magical chill of the north seeped through even the thickest clothing.
"Can you control your magic?" Raizel asked, stepping closer. "Try using your magic to resist the cold. Use your will to construct a magic barrier in front of you."
He wanted to help her, but he also wanted to see if she could begin to master the power that was hurting her.
"How... how do I do that?" Ultear looked up at him with wide, confused eyes.
The people at the Bureau had only ever forced her to output magic; they had never taught her control or defense.
"Focus," Raizel said, pressing his fingers to his temple. "Imagine a wall. A warm, invisible wall that pushes the wind away."
Ultear closed her eyes, her small face scrunching in concentration.
Slowly, a pale light began to gather in front of her.
But suddenly, the light fractured.
Veins of dark energy pulsed through the barrier, and it shattered like glass.
Ultear gasped, clutching her chest as her internal magic flared painfully.
"Stop," Gildarts said, halting immediately and turning around.
His carefree expression was gone.
"Her magic is running wild inside her. It's too volatile for her to control right now. That's likely why she had those high fevers as a baby."
Raizel nodded grimly. "I know. It's too much for her current container. Aside from the First Master, I can't think of anyone else in Ishgar who could resolve this issue permanently."
"But for now," Raizel stepped forward. "Take Over: Gankoomon."
He didn't fully transform into the armor.
instead, he summoned the avatar associated with the Royal Knight.
"Hinukamuy!"
A spectral, dragon-like aura materialized behind Raizel, glowing with an intense golden-orange hue.
He controlled the release of his magic carefully, using the Fire God Might not to attack, but to radiate a gentle, encompassing heat.
"So warm..." Ultear breathed, her shivering stopping instantly.
The snow around them turned a soft orange in the light of the avatar.
It felt as though she had stepped from a blizzard into a heated room.
Protected by Raizel's aura, they continued for another hour until the terrain began to change.
"We're here," Ultear whispered, pointing ahead.
The three of them stood by a cluster of pine trees on a hillside.
Raizel looked down at the small wooden cabin nestled in the valley below.
'This spot...' Raizel thought, a sense of déjà vu washing over him.
'In the original story, this is where Ultear stood and watched Ur training Gray and Lyon. She watched them smile and assumed she had been replaced.'
To think the Ultear of the original timeline managed to walk back here all alone, through this hellish weather... her determination was terrifying.
"There are no lights on," Gildarts observed. "They must be out."
"Let's wait down below then. No need to endure the wind up here," Raizel suggested.
He scooped Ultear up gently. "Hold on."
He flew directly down toward the cabin, shielding her from the rush of air, while Gildarts simply leaped down the cliff face, landing with a heavy thud that shook the snow off nearby trees.
Arriving before the cabin, Ultear hesitated.
She stared blankly at the wooden door, her gloved hands trembling.
It wasn't the cold anymore; it was fear.
Fear that her mother wouldn't want her. Fear that the Bureau was right.
"Go ahead," Raizel placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Push it open. Don't you miss Ur terribly?"
Pursing her lips, Ultear nodded firmly.
She reached out.
In this icy, deserted wilderness, there was no need for locks.
The door creaked open easily.
She stepped inside with small, tentative steps.
Raizel and Gildarts stayed outside, sitting on the wooden steps of the porch to give her privacy.
Inside, the cabin was warm and smelled of firewood and herbs.
Ultear walked straight to the bedroom. It was simply furnished: a large bed by the window, a dressing table, and a bookshelf.
"What's that?"
Ultear's eyes were drawn to the bed.
Laid out neatly on the quilt was a small yellow shirt.
It was frayed at the edges, clearly old.
It was hers. The shirt she had worn the day she was taken.
Ur hadn't thrown it away.
She kept it on the bed, as if waiting for its owner to return every single day.
Ultear reached out and touched the fabric.
A sob choked in her throat, and tears began to spill down her cheeks.
...
Thirty Minutes Later.
Three figures—one woman and two young boys—trekked through the snowy landscape, heading toward the cabin.
The woman leading them had short dark hair and sharp features, wearing practical training gear despite the cold.
She carried a bag of groceries in her arms.
Behind her, two shirtless boys—one with spiky black hair, the other with silver hair—were bickering and shoving each other into snowbanks.
"You're too slow, Lyon! I'm gonna beat you to the house!"
"In your dreams, Gray! Ur taught me a new technique today!"
Suddenly, Ur stopped dead in her tracks.
"Ur, why did you stop?" Gray, busy packing a snowball, bumped into her leg.
"Look," Ur said, her voice wary.
She pointed toward her cabin.
Sitting casually on her front steps were two men.
One was a giant of a man in a tattered green cloak; the other was younger, with reddish-brown hair, looking bored.
"Intruders?" Lyon took a combat stance.
"Let's go and see," Ur said, adjusting her grip on the groceries.
She wasn't afraid.
Her strength was sufficient to qualify for the Ten Wizard Saints, a title she had declined years ago.
She marched forward.
As she drew closer, her eyes narrowed, focusing on the larger man.
Then, recognition dawned.
"It's you," Ur said, stopping at the foot of the stairs. "Gildarts Clive. Why is the strongest man in the West sitting on my doorstep? Did you get lost on a mission again?"
She had met him once before in these frozen lands.
He had been impressed by her power and even invited her to join him on a job, but she had been too consumed by grief over her lost daughter to accept.
"Yo, Ur," Gildarts grinned, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "It's been a while, hasn't it? We're actually here to see you."
"To see me?" Ur raised an eyebrow.
Creak—
The wooden door behind Gildarts opened slowly.
Ur froze.
A little girl peeked out.
She was wearing thick winter clothes that were clearly new, but that face... those eyes...
Ultear had heard the voices outside.
She stepped onto the porch, clutching the doorframe.
"Ultear...?" Ur's voice trembled.
The bag of groceries slipped from her arms, hitting the snow with a dull thud.
Apples and bread rolled away, ignored.
She stared, paralyzed.
She recognized her daughter instantly. The shape of her eyes, the way she stood... it was undeniable.
"Mom?" Ultear whispered.
"It's you... it's really you..." Ur's composure shattered.
Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.
She disregarded the strangers, disregarded her students, and sprinted up the stairs.
"Ultear! My baby!"
Ur fell to her knees and pulled Ultear into a bone-crushing embrace, burying her face in the girl's neck.
She held on desperately, as if letting go would make the illusion vanish.
"Mom... too tight... I can't breathe..." Ultear squeaked, though she didn't try to pull away.
Ur immediately loosened her grip but kept her hands firmly on Ultear's shoulders, scanning her face frantically.
"But... but how? The Director... Brain... he told me you died. He said your body couldn't handle the magic..."
"No," Ultear shook her head, tears soaking her new scarf. "I've been waiting for you to come get me, Mom. I just kept waiting and waiting... I missed you so much."
"I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry..." Ur pulled her back into a hug, rocking her back and forth.
Gray and Lyon stood in the snow with their mouths agape.
"Ur...?" Gray stepped forward, confused. "Who is that? You said your daughter was..."
He was about to say "dead."
Bam.
A hand chopped lightly onto the top of Gray's head, silencing him.
"We'll explain everything inside, kid," Raizel said softly, standing behind the two boys.
He walked past them and began picking up the spilled groceries from the snow.
Ur looked up, her tear-stained face turning toward Raizel and Gildarts.
The pieces clicked into place.
These guys... they had brought her back.
"Please," Ur choked out, wiping her eyes but refusing to let go of Ultear's hand. "Come inside."