"Did you get any sleep last night? You don't look so good, Lucious," Olivia asked, studying his pale face.
"Well… no. I didn't particularly enjoy how much the ship swayed, especially last night. I barely slept," Lucious replied, rubbing his temples.
"Well, now we know you get seasick. Couldn't have picked a more inconvenient time," Flavian muttered, scratching his head.
"I ain't doing as bad now that I'm standing. It's worse when I'm lying down," Lucious said.
"Lucious, Flavian here," Olivia called as she produced several loaves of bread from the ring on her finger.
"Thanks," the two replied in unison.
"So you bought those from the inn we stayed at?" Flavian asked.
"Yeah. From Bodroy." Olivia answered softly.
After eating and washing the bread down with water, the trio made their way up to the deck. The moment they stepped outside, the sea air brushed cool and sharp against their faces.
They were heading toward the door marked Captain's Quarters when Flavian suddenly stopped.
"Hey… look."
Olivia and Lucious followed his gaze.
The forest stretched along the shoreline, but unlike the gloomy sight they had seen the day before, this one shimmered with color. Petals of varying hues drifted from the trees and scattered across the ocean's surface, floating like fragments of stained glass. Upon closer inspection, they noticed a crescent-shaped piece of land forming a natural bay. It softened the waves, creating a serene pocket of water untouched by the sea's earlier violence.
The trio stood in quiet awe.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
They turned to see one of the sailors, the same crewmember who had rowed them to the ship the previous night.
"Yeah… it is," Olivia replied.
"Don't let it fool you. Same forest from Luston Town you just left," the sailor said, nodding toward the vibrant treeline.
"Wait… it stretches this far back?" Lucious murmured.
"Yup. Ah, right on schedule. Look a little closer. Tell me if you spot it," the crewmember said with a grin.
The trio narrowed their eyes.
"…Is that a very large rabbit?" Flavian asked cautiously.
"Yes. That's what we call a MagdexHare, a brutal Spirit Beast."
They watched as the creature hovered above the forest canopy in an upright stance. It was massive, far larger than any ordinary hare, and behind its head floated several differently colored eggs, orbiting it in a slow, deliberate pattern.
"Never let that thing catch you alone. There's no escaping it," the sailor finished grimly.
"Cliff!"
A voice boomed from the other side of the deck.
The sailor turned. "Yeah?"
"Come on, dude! What's taking so long?"
"Coming!" Cliff shouted back before jogging off.
The trio watched as the Magdex Hare slowly drifted deeper into the forest's mist until it disappeared entirely from sight.
After a moment, they approached the Captain's Quarters and knocked. A muffled "Come in" answered from inside.
They entered to find Demba seated by the window, a large mug in his hand. Morning light cut across the room.
"Morning," Demba greeted them, taking a slow sip.
After brief exchanges, he straightened in his chair.
"So," he began, voice firm, "tell me what exactly is following you three?"
They exchanged confused glances.
"Actively? Nothing. We shook them off weeks ago," Lucious answered.
"Hm." Demba studied them. "I sensed that you three are Martial Mystics. Was I mistaken?"
"No," Olivia replied. "You're correct."
"Then answer me this how have none of you sensed the presence that's been trailing you since yesterday? Since you boarded my ship?"
Their expressions tightened.
"Our sensory abilities aren't as advanced as yours, Demba," Flavian admitted. "We can't detect things the way you can."
"This is basic perception," Demba responded calmly. "The level required to sense this… object."
"Object?" Olivia asked. "Not a person?"
"Yes. An object. It doesn't breathe not as far as I can tell."
Silence settled over the room.
"Then whoever was after us before… this isn't them," Olivia said slowly.
Demba leaned back, taking a long gulp from his mug before dragging a hand through his dreads.
"Oh," he muttered. "So you caught the attention of something else."
He exhaled sharply.
"Well… shit."
"We deal with that issue when it comes I guess" Demba followed by saying.
"So," Demba began, leaning back in his chair, "do you three actually know what you're looking for and are you confident it's in the town of Alten?"
"What we're searching for is an artifact," Olivia replied evenly. "The sources I found place its last known sighting in Alten."
"An artifact, you say…" Demba's eyes sharpened slightly. "I see."
He took another slow drink before setting the mug down with a dull thud.
"Well then, if that's the case, you've got a few more days before we arrive. Make your preparations. We won't be docking near the shore; we'll moor out at sea and wait one week. If you don't return within that time, you'll be left behind."
He paused, his gaze drifting briefly toward the window.
"Winter is coming. And the last place I want to be anywhere near is the Greslin Mountains."
"What happens in winter?" Flavian asked.
Demba gave them a long look.
"You three really aren't familiar with the western lands, are you…"
Before he could finish, a distant howl split through the air.
It wasn't just loud.
It was wrong.
The sound carried across the sea like frozen iron scraping against bone.
Lucious stiffened. Flavian felt a chill crawl down his spine.
Demba didn't flinch.
"That," he said calmly, "is why."
He stood and walked toward the window.
"The spirit beast you just heard makes its home in the Greslin Mountains. And when winter comes, it descends."
His voice grew quieter heavier.
"And it hunts."
"In normal circumstances, that wouldn't be unusual. Spirit beasts hunts all the time. But this isn't a normal creature."
He turned back to face them.
"That was the howl of a Frostwhisper."
The name seemed to settle into the room like falling ash.
"It holds nothing but malicious hatred for adult and adolescent men. When winter deepens and it comes down from the peaks, it slaughters every male it can find."
Shock flashed across Lucious and Flavian's faces.
Demba continued bluntly, "So while little missy here might not be in much danger…"
His eyes shifted to the two men.
"You two? You're in deep trouble."
Lucious swallowed. "Is there… a particular reason it hates men?"
Demba sighed once, then folded his arms.
"Depends which story you believe. The most common theory is about how they were born."
He glanced again toward the distant mountains.
"Legend says that, long ago, abused women and children were taken to the peaks of Mount Greslin — discarded there like refuse. Their suffering, their resentment… it accumulated. Over time, that hatred condensed into something else."
His voice lowered.
"The Frostwhispers."
Silence lingered.
"They don't just kill men," Demba added grimly. "They mutilate them."
Lucious and Flavian instinctively grabbed at their crotches, faces paling.
Demba barked out a loud laugh.
"Relax. If one of those things catches you, clutching yourselves won't make a difference."
The laughter faded, but the weight in the room did not.
"Just make sure you're back before the first deep frost," Demba finished. "Because once winter sets in… the mountains start listening."