During this season, only the cold air blowing down from the northern Ridge Mountains can rage, and last night's frost is its handiwork. Yet those shadows moved forward against the wind. In the Anriel Continent, there are no birds preparing to "winter" in the ice and snow, and the mage thought for a moment, roughly guessing the origin of those things.
"It can only be migrating Druids or scouts sent by the Mage Association." He muttered in his heart, "I hope they're not coming for me."
By noon, those shadows had disappeared. However, Lynch always felt that something was still around, monitoring his actions. Meanwhile, the beastmen seemed to be pushed back into the fortress by the frost, and the roads were unusually quiet and peaceful, without anyone disturbing Lynch and his group's progress. On the tenth day since leaving the destroyed village, after difficultly crossing the central high hills, they reached the banks of the Holy Furnace River.
