Chapter 100: On the Back
Soren was also trapped in Leaffall City, the thickness of the heavy snowfall outside made it impossible for carriages to move at all.
Due to the cold weather, he customized a warm little coat for Vivian, which would take three days to complete. Outside, busy half-elves were faintly visible, along with the figures of druids. The heavy snow had collapsed some of the makeshift cottages, and Leaffall City was rescuing ordinary civilians. Since Gloria was watching over the little girl, he set off to see the conditions outside. Indeed, the snow was thicker, and stepping into it would quickly sink to his calf.
Outside the city were plots of farmland, but now they were all covered in white.
He could see men and women busy in the fields, digging through snowdrifts to recover nearly harvested grains and vegetables. If they didn’t hurry to transport them back, they would spoil soon, and they would lose their food source. Winter wheat seemed impossible to plant now; the snow was too thick. In the past, they usually planted winter wheat in October, and many half-elven farmers looked worried. Their abilities were not particularly outstanding, merely a bit more agile than humans, but essentially they were still ordinary people.
A female farmer was carrying lettuce; cabbage and lettuce were common southern vegetables. Her fingers were pale from the cold, and nearby, a shivering girl was helping, her thin clothing causing her to occasionally huddle and warm her hands. Further away, a boy of about ten was digging in the snow and soon excitedly pulled out a frozen bird, holding it high and shouting, “Sister, look! We’ll have meat to eat tonight!”
The heavy snow had broken some tree branches, knocking down some bird nests, while ice formed on the branches, resembling hanging crystals.
This was the life of ordinary people.
Hunters were entering the forest in groups, seasoned and anticipating the harsh trials of the cold winter, beginning to hunt for prey early. They might even be lucky enough to find some frozen animals. Further away, some were busy repairing houses. The impoverished ordinary people lived in straw-walled homes, with roofs that were not very sturdy and easily damaged by strong winds and heavy snow.
The sky was filled with the calls of birds trying to grasp the last chance to migrate. Otherwise, all would freeze here.
The unusually early winter had changed much, forcing animals to hibernate ahead of time and disrupting people’s farming plans.
A sound of crackling was heard.
Soren halted his steps, then raised his hand, palm open, as a hailstone the size of a grain of rice fell.
The sound grew increasingly intense, and a farmer’s distant scream was heard as two children ran quickly to her side, with the boy slipping in the snow. The hailstones were getting larger. The farmer could scarcely spare a thought for the vegetables she had dug out, instead protecting the two children as she dashed towards a house in the distance.
A twinge of pain was felt.
Soren looked up at the sky, the falling hailstones growing larger, from the size of soybeans to that of small stones. A cry of pain came from ahead; he dashed forward, quickly enveloping the two children in his arms. In a deep voice, he urged, “Find somewhere to hide quickly!”
The farmer, unable to thank him in time, stumbled after him, having been struck on the forehead by a hailstone nearly the size of a pebble, leaving a bruise. The village was filled with cries of complaints; Soren set the two children down, his brow furrowed as he listened to the relentless sound of the hail impacting the ground; the roofs sounded as if they were being knocked on, some people getting struck and wounded, with traces of blood appearing on foreheads.
The hailstorm did not last long.
From the size of a grain of rice to that of a pebble took only about ten minutes. People cautiously emerged after it was over. After checking the brightness in the sky, they returned to the fields to hastily gather the crops. Soren left a package of jerky for the two youngsters, then followed the path into the forest, where familiar ground was now invisible beneath the heavy snow. Many weeds were covered under the ice and snow. He spotted the figure of a druid, agilely leaping through the forest.
While these druids were somewhat annoying, they were not truly bad.
Many druids had been striving in desert areas, trying to transform the deserts left behind by the Arcane Empire into oases; this process had been ongoing for over a thousand years.
However, the efforts of several generations had only completed less than one percent of the task. The thousands of kilometers of desert were still dominated by yellow sands, with ancient cities submerged under quicksand continuing to emit energy radiation. Only a few particularly resilient plants could grow. It was always easy to damage the environment, but restoring it required countless years. Soren’s attitude towards druids was quite complex; at times, he wished they would perish, and at other times, he felt they were magnificent.
Especially when seeing the oases established by druids in the desert, that patch of green representing life amidst the endless yellow sands was truly breathtaking.
Their status in the eyes of desert inhabitants was exceptionally high!
Soren had seen more than once the desert populace kneeling on the ground, kissing the earth where the tree shepherds walked.
……
The heavy snow had begun to cull the first batch of the old, weak, ill, and disabled.
In the harsh winter, only the strongest creatures could survive. The more he walked, the more Soren frowned, as the road to the Elf Kingdom was completely covered in ice and snow. The carriage could practically not be used, and they had to walk the entire way. Waiting for the snow to melt was out of the question; in such cold weather, that wouldn’t happen until at least next year. Soren couldn’t afford to delay for so long, so they had to brave the snow and wind.
Vivian’s small stature made it impossible for her to walk in the snow; she didn’t have enough stamina, and Soren felt very pained about it.
The only solution.
Was for him to carry Vivian to continue their journey, a journey more than a hundred kilometers long through the ice and snow, which they estimated would take quite some time.
He just didn’t know if Gloria could handle it, but a high-level witch should be able to manage this small issue.
There were many spells that could be used.
By the time Soren returned, it was already afternoon. Aladdin was boasting on the bar counter, with many patrons gathered around, laughing and urging him to have another drink. When they saw Soren, the halfing’s face was already flush from drinking. This guy must have been a master storyteller in the past; it was too bad he didn’t moonlight as a bard, or he would have earned quite a bit in tips along the way. Many halfings enjoyed bragging; when exposed, they wouldn’t get embarrassed, at most they would argue back a bit.
Their storytelling skills were quite high; it was an enjoyable pastime during their downtime, even the tavern owner was listening with great interest.
Aladdin wasn’t completely bragging; his adventuring experience surpassed that of many others. At the very least, he accurately described the height, characteristics, and habits of the hill giants, even detailing their habitual movements during attacks. Of course, his main goal was to prove how nimble he was, how he escaped from the attacks of the hill giants, and how he outmaneuvered the giant. As for defeating the hill giants, that was out of the question; those two small daggers had little chance of killing them.
Amidst the guests’ encouragement in the tavern, the diminutive Aladdin even performed a dance on the long table; it was a lively clapping and tapping dance, said to attract the attention of pretty halfing girls with doll-like faces. People couldn’t help but clap along with the rhythm, raising the already vibrant atmosphere even higher, to the point where the tavern owner seemed inclined to hire him.
Three days quickly passed.
During this time, Soren focused on memorizing spells, and it seemed Gloria was aware of his studies, offering hints here and there. However, this mysterious Northern Witch clearly did not know that Soren was already a level 5 wizard, and Soren did not want to surprise her too much to avoid unnecessary trouble. After all, a level 5 wizard appearing within half a month was even more shocking than Vivian’s astonishing talent. It would be better to wait for another opportunity to discuss it.
Soren successfully memorized a second circle spell: [Mighty Strength].
This spell could temporarily increase his strength by 4 points. Combined with the ogre bracers, his strength could reach 18 points, essentially rounding out the last shortcoming of his attributes. Sadly, the duration was only about ten minutes. However, a battle generally lasted about ten minutes, and with the enhancement spell, he could face an ogre directly without issue. Low-level wizards have very few spell slots—they must calculate their usage: one invisibility spell for survival and one mighty strength spell for combat.
Wizards above the third tier start to gain a significant increase in their spell slots.
On the day they were to set out, the small halfing unexpectedly joined them. He had been doing quite well at the inn during this time, with people inviting him for drinks daily. Soren had thought he would stay in Leaffall City.
“I am a foodie,” Aladdin said with a pained expression as he trudged through the snow, then justified, “How could a foodie just stay in one place? I’ve tasted all the good food around here; naturally, I should go see what the elves have to offer.”
Gloria appeared somewhat unaccustomed.
High-ranking witches seldom travel themselves, let alone in a snowy environment. Soren wanted to help but couldn’t; he was carrying a half pouch on his back like a backpack, with the small Vivian inside. The little girl wrapped her pale hands around his neck, resting her tiny head on Soren’s shoulder; her subtle breathing felt somewhat ticklish. Occasionally, she would kick her little feet, opening her palms to catch the falling snowflakes. At first, she was in good spirits, but soon her enthusiasm waned, as everything around was a vast expanse of white snow.
After walking for a while, the Northern Witch finally showed signs of fatigue.
She bit her lip, stubbornly glancing at the others, then cast a [Lighten] spell on herself.
Wizards, after all, are a bit delicate. After casting the lighten spell, Gloria’s steps became brisk, leaving only shallow footprints in the snow, looking lighter than even an agility exercise. The duration of the [Flight] spell isn’t very long and isn’t suitable for long-distance travel, and the cold winds in the sky were also a nuisance, requiring protective spells; otherwise, the witch’s constitution wouldn’t hold up against it.
The howling cold wind blew by.
Rows of footprints marked the snow, and the group gradually entered the forest, where the heavy winds and snow quickly erased the traces they left behind.
……(To be continued)
