The next morning arrived as gently as the one before—quiet, unhurried, wrapped in a fragile stillness that seemed almost deliberate.
But the air had changed.
The cold had deepened overnight, no longer a distant warning but something sharper… something that lingered against the skin like unseen fangs. Each breath carried a faint sting, thin wisps of vapour curling from the lips and dissolving into the pale morning light.
Winter was no longer approaching.
It had begun.
Frost clung stubbornly to the edges of the world—tracing the wooden railings, dusting the ground in a fine silver sheen, settling over everything like a silent claim of ownership.
In a quiet corner of the guest house's front yard, a small workspace had taken shape.
Piles of wood lay neatly arranged despite their varying sizes—thick logs stacked beside slimmer planks, rough cuts beside carefully selected pieces. The scent of fresh timber lingered faintly in the air, mixing with the crisp bite of winter.
And there, beside it all, stood Jade.
Tools in hand, sleeves slightly rolled, his breath visible with each steady exhale.
The dull rhythm of work broke the silence—wood against blade, the firm knock of shaping, the soft scrape of refinement. Piece by piece, he worked with quiet focus, carving structure from raw material.
Not just wood.
A frame.
The bare skeleton of a carriage slowly took form beneath his hands.
He had woken earlier than usual that morning, at the first sign of dawn, to give himself enough time before his shift at the brewery began.
Since then, the yard had been filled with the steady sound of his work.
He didn't rush. There was no need to.
He simply worked—hands moving with quiet familiarity as the structure gradually came together.
Time passed.
Eventually, Jade stopped, set his tools aside, and went inside for breakfast.
The warmth indoors felt heavier, almost still. The sudden change made his fingers sting slightly as the cold began to fade, leaving a faint stiffness behind.
After breakfast, he went upstairs and put on thick, warm clothes. It was already time for him to head to work.
On his way, he noticed an owl perched on a wooden post along the path, its silhouette still against the pale morning light.
It was watching him.
Unmoving.
An owl at daylight?
He frowned slightly.
That's strange.
"…Boo."
The sound came out more out of curiosity than intent—a half-hearted attempt to make it react.
But the owl didn't flinch.
Not a single movement.
It simply stared at him, as if it had been there far longer than it should have been.
Jade tilted his head slightly, studying it for a moment longer.
Then he exhaled and looked away.
Probably just a coincidence.
He had no time to linger on something like this.
Turning back to the path, he continued walking.
Why would you find it strange?
You're in a fantasy world, for heaven's sake…
The thought came and passed quickly as he moved on, boots crunching lightly against the cold ground.
But even as he walked away, he could still feel it—
That unmoving gaze lingered on his back.
Jade arrived at the brewery and greeted his co-workers, who had already begun their tasks. The familiar sounds of the place met him—the creak of wood, the clatter of tools, the steady rhythm of work already in motion.
He changed into his working clothes and joined them without ceremony.
Carrying heavy barrels, moving supplies, helping wherever needed—while quietly observing, studying, and learning the process in between.
The weight of the barrels pressed into his arms, the faint scent of aged wood and fermenting wine clinging to the air. It wasn't pleasant, but it had become familiar… almost grounding.
And so, the day passed without much happening.
Only the steady rhythm of work—murmured exchanges, occasional laughter, and the ever-present aroma of fermentation filled the space.
Another satisfying day for Jade.
A simple life.
A quiet one.
Exactly as he wanted.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
(A Few Days Later)
The day started unusually.
The front yard of the guest house was filled with armed warriors.
Not a small patrol group—this was far larger.
Their presence carried a quiet weight, the kind that came only when the village was prepared to mobilise at full capacity if needed. Armor was concealed beneath thick cloaks, but even then, the discipline in their posture was unmistakable. These were not ordinary guards.
They were the same level of forces used when the elves intercepted him before.
That realisation alone made the atmosphere feel heavier than it looked.
The night before, Jade had found Eziel waiting for him when he returned from work. As calm as ever, the elf had made his request without hesitation.
An expedition to the north.
Toward the frozen valley.
Reports from hunters indicated groups of goblins near the forest's edge.
Eziel explained that goblins alone were not a concern. They were low-class monsters—weak and easy to dispatch.
But a group of more than ten moving in coordination was not normal.
That was the part worth investigating.
Jade agreed.
He had his suspicions, but this was a real situation. He couldn't rely on assumptions based on what he had only seen in anime before coming to this world.
Still—
What he couldn't fully understand was why he had been asked to join.
If this required this level of response…
Why him?
He had always described himself as average in combat. Not someone suited for serious engagements. Someone who relied on Blaze when things turned dangerous.
If it's reinforcement that they needed, Blaze alone would already be more than enough.
And yet, Eziel had asked for him specifically.
Still, he didn't refuse.
The elves had been too kind to him.
Even after the incident with the restless spirits—when suspicion had briefly touched him—they still accepted him without hesitation. They welcomed him, treated him with warmth, and allowed him to stay as if he belonged.
So he agreed.
It was the least he could do to return even a fraction of that kindness.
He peeked outside to look at the warriors gathered in the front yard.
Around twenty of them stood together—more than the usual number assigned for daily patrols. But they were not in formation, nor did they carry the rigid posture of soldiers preparing for battle. Instead, it felt more like an organised gathering before departure, cloaks shifting slightly in the cold morning air as they waited for final coordination.
Jade pulled his attention away and moved to the corner of the room where baskets of ores were neatly stacked. He removed the cloth covering them.
On top of one of the baskets rested his twin swords.
They had been left untouched since his arrival in this village—quietly resting, as if waiting for the moment they would be needed again.
And now, that moment had come sooner than he expected.
He reached out and picked them up.
A familiar weight settled into his hands.
Not heavy.
Just… right.
Like an extension of himself that had simply been set aside for a while.
Jade slung the swords across his back, forming an X as the hilts crossed behind his shoulders.
Then he moved downstairs, grabbed his cloak, and called out to Blaze.
"Let's go, buddy."
Blaze slowly rose and followed him as they stepped outside.
The morning air felt colder against the open yard. The gathered warriors were already in place, their attention shifting slightly as Jade approached.
"Sorry for the wait," he said as he neared the group.
"It's okay. We didn't wait long," Aerilyn replied calmly.
Then she turned.
A single clap of her hands cut through the quiet.
Instantly, the group straightened—attention snapping into place in a unified motion.
Jade remained still beside her, quietly observing.
There was something different about Aerilyn today.
Or perhaps it was more accurate to say he had simply grown too used to the casual, blunt girl he usually interacted with that he had forgotten something important.
The Aerilyn standing beside him now was not that girl.
She was the commander of the elite warriors in front of him.
"I don't think I need to introduce him," she began, her voice steady and carrying easily across the yard. "But as you all know… this is Jade."
A brief pause.
Then she added,
"Just like the legends of old… an otherworlder."
Jade's expression didn't change, but his thoughts immediately did.
Hey… can you not raise the bar even higher?
People were already expecting things from me for all the wrong reasons…
He complained inwardly—but said nothing.
Not because he agreed.
But because the atmosphere didn't allow it.
Not when Aerilyn was standing there like that.
Not when her presence carried that level of command.
He simply stayed quiet.
Alongside the others.
Aerilyn continued, her tone firm and direct.
"The village head personally requested his participation in this operation. Coordinate with him accordingly and ensure smooth cooperation for everyone's safety."
The warriors showed no sign of disagreement with her words.
If anything, it felt as though they were already aligned long before she spoke.
No complaints. No hesitation. No trace of displeasure.
Only quiet acceptance—complete trust in their commander.
"And I don't want anyone playing hero. Is that clear?"
Her voice carried across the group, firm but controlled.
For a brief moment, the air seemed to still—
Then it answered her.
"Loud and clear, ma'am."
The response came as one.
Not loud—but unified enough that it felt like the air itself had vibrated.
Jade blinked.
What the…
Is this the military?
The thought rose instinctively, but he held it back.
This wasn't the time to joke around.
"Good… let's get moving."
With that, Aerilyn turned, bringing the briefing to a close.
The elves moved almost immediately—no wasted motion, no confusion. What had been a still gathering shifted into a steady flow, each member falling into place as they began their advance.
Jade and Blaze followed from behind at first, before naturally falling into step alongside Aerilyn.
The village slowly receded behind them.
Soon enough, they passed through the northern entrance—
And without pause, the group continued forward, heading north toward the frozen valley.