Chapter 25: Temporary Base

  The cabin was composed of two joined rectangular structures, much of which had fallen into disrepair. The smaller, outer section—a square space about twenty feet across—was half-collapsed, looking as if a giant beast had bitten off a corner. Inside, the air was thick with the breath of winter, every surface coated in a layer of crystalline frost. A heavy wooden table still stood in the center, littered with rusted blacksmithing tools and unidentifiable metal scraps. It had likely been a workshop once; now, it held only cold and silence.

  The main body of the house, extending inward, was much larger—roughly sixty feet long and forty feet wide, with a ceiling height of twenty feet. Even after Zoe’s spell had cleared the worst of the mold and dust, a faint scent of charcoal lingered in the main hall—the indelible mark of a fire that had soaked into the stone walls long ago.

  The walls were scorched black, and most of the furniture had long since turned to ash. Only a ten-foot-long wooden table remained, though it looked charred and brittle enough to crumble at a touch. The only thing of value in the hall was the stone fireplace against the wall. Once a magically ignited fire began to roar within it, the biting chill in the room finally started to recede.

  To the north of the main hall were three rooms in a row. One carried the faint, lingering scent of old wine, likely a former cellar. Another was littered with scraps of paper and fragments of book covers—perhaps once a study. In the easternmost bedroom, the cold wind surged through a broken window, making the grey curtains dance like ghosts. Snow covered the bed and most of the floor; everything was frozen in time.

  On the opposite side was a more spacious bedroom. To keep out the snow, the windows had been boarded shut. A sagging double bed and an empty bookshelf were the only furniture left, with a pile of folded clothes in the corner—remnants of the previous owners, now rotted and fragile.

  Mary and Zoe piled the prepared food in front of the fireplace, and the group sat in a circle around the dancing flames. It was long past the usual dinner hour. Ronen’s group had eaten bear meat at noon, but Vivian’s team had spent the entire day focused on finding their way, with no time for a proper meal. By now, they were famished.

  The fire crackled merrily in the stone hearth. Skewers of bear meat sizzled over the flames, dripping bright beads of fat that hissed as they hit the embers. Zoe stared at the meat, quietly swallowing her saliva. Ronen focused on the fire, carefully tending to the skewers. Mary sat quietly by his side, her eyes following his every move, occasionally reaching out to hand him spices or help turn the wooden sticks.

  In addition to the fresh bear meat, the Merchant Circle had provided dry rations. The two mercenaries and Vivian carried specialized jerky—a habit they had formed to always be prepared for the unexpected. Mary, ever the meticulous one, had purchased a wide variety of ingredients in Glory City after hearing they might be camping. Now, an assortment of edible and questionable items was piled before the fireplace. Looking at it only made everyone hungrier.

  "The large bedroom and the two rooms on the north side can be used for sleeping," Vivian said, returning to the fire after a quick tour of the house. "We can also set up bedrolls here in the hall."

  Ethan adjusted his monocle and added, "The heating modules on the camp carriages can be detached and installed here. They should provide enough warmth for the entire night."

  Wolf nodded slowly. "The situation is better than expected, but we're new here and don't know the layout. We cannot let our guard down tonight. If you rest, do so in pairs. We must have a rotation for the night watch."

  Vivian looked over the food pile. "These supplies should last us three or four days. We don't need to worry about food for now."

  By then, the aroma of roasted bear meat had filled the hall. Zoe finally couldn't help herself and tugged on Ronen’s sleeve, her eyes bright with the reflection of the fire. Ronen smiled slightly and handed her the first finished skewer. Zoe took a large bite, huffing from the heat, but managed to mumble through her chewing:

  "We're really going downhill, aren't we? Day one, we're feasting in Glory City. Day two, we're eating from a mercenary pot. And now, we're huddling in a ruin roasting wild game..." She chewed for a moment, then blinked. "Wait—this is actually delicious!"

  Her lighthearted joke acted like a warm breeze, dispelling the frozen tension. The group shared a laugh, and as they divided the simple dinner around the crackling fire, they began to talk in low voices about the day's events.

  "A Mountain Ox Behemoth with no eyes, an ice bear with swollen eyes, and the legend of the Snow Blindness demons... it all comes back to 'eyes,'" Ronen said, looking at Wolf. His voice was low but clear. "Uncle, I don't think this is a coincidence. We need to take this seriously."

  "I agree," Vivian added. She set down a half-eaten piece of jerky and unconsciously pressed a finger to the corner of her eye. "And since a moment ago, my eyes have been feeling... itchy. What about the rest of you?"

  The air in the room suddenly went still. Everyone looked at each other. Zoe instinctively began rubbing her eyes. "Now that you mention it... I think I feel it too. We haven't caught some kind of disease, have we?"

  Ethan raised a hand to calm them. "This is likely due to mana fluctuations or elemental imbalance. I've been sensing the environment the whole way—the further north we go, the more chaotic the mana becomes, and the elements are indeed more active. This is normal for the untamed northern reaches."

  "I suspect the Snow Blindness demons are just rural folklore," he continued. "As for the eye abnormalities in those two beasts, they are likely just coincidences."

  "Once is a coincidence, twice is a fluke, but three eye-related incidents in a single day..." Wolf shook his head slowly, his gaze sweeping over everyone's face. "If we get a chance to talk to the villagers tomorrow, we should ask about this. In the meantime, everyone must stay alert. If your eyes feel even slightly abnormal—no matter how minor—tell me immediately."

  Seeing that no one had anything else to add, Wolf pulled out the communication device Alice had given him. As agreed, now that they had reached Dragonwood Village, it was time to report their progress to the Merchant Circle.

  Static crackled through the silence before a familiar, tired female voice came through.

  "This is Alice." Her voice carried a dryness that suggested a long lack of rest; one could almost see the dark circles under her eyes. "Based on the time, you should have reached Dragonwood Village?"

  "Yes, we've just settled in," Wolf replied, placing the device in the center of the group. His voice was steady. "The journey had its complications, but the whole team arrived safely."

  "Dragonwood Village..." There was a brief silence on the other end, as if she were weighing her words. "Is... everything alright there?"

  "We arrived after dark, and the villagers had already shut their doors. If there's anything unusual, it's that the people here seem... cold."

  "...Cold?" Alice repeated softly. The sound of a pen scratching against paper came through the background, as if she were taking notes. "You saw the villagers?"

  "We saw the village head. He reluctantly allowed us to stay."

  "Understood. Is there anything else to report?"

  Wolf hesitated for a moment, then gave a brief account of the eye-related abnormalities they had encountered on the road. He concluded, "I'm not sure if these are related to the disappearance of the mages, but I believe they are worth noting."

  The other end of the line fell into a long silence, filled only by the faint hum of static. Finally, Alice’s voice returned.

  "Mr. Wolf, I need concrete clues, not guesses or rumors. Until these abnormalities are proven to have a direct link to the incident at the Magic Tower, please focus your primary energy on the mission itself."

  "Understood."