A month later.
Journal Entry
Day… I stopped keeping track of the exact number.
We're still moving, but it's different now.
I found this journal in one of the ruined houses back in the village. It was mostly empty. When the people offered it to me as thanks, I didn't really know what to say, so I took it. It felt rude not to.
The past few weeks have been… busy.
Hunting has become routine. I go out early, set traps, come back with enough food for everyone. Sometimes more, if I get lucky. Ice magic makes preservation easy, which helps more than I expected.
Shelter took more work. I used ice at first—simple walls, insulation, windbreaks. I made sure not to rely on it too much, though. Ice melts. Stone and wood last. Still, it helped us survive the nights.
Protecting them has been… constant. Monsters, wild animals, things drawn to mana. Nothing too dangerous so far, but enough that I stay alert.
I didn't expect this.
I've only been in this world for a little over a month, and somehow I'm already acting like a leader. Or a guard. Or both.
It's strange. Back home, I was just a student worried about tests and deadlines. Here, people look at me like their lives depend on me.
I don't really mind.
They needed help. I could help. That was enough of a reason.
----------
Over the past month, the group had changed.
At first, they were scared. Quiet. Always looking over their shoulders. Every sound made them tense, every shadow suspicious.
Lyon made sure that didn't last.
He kept watch at night. He walked at the front when they traveled. When monsters appeared, he dealt with them quickly and without drama.
Gradually, the fear eased.
Children stopped flinching when the wind howled. Adults slept through the night. People began talking again—quiet conversations at first, then laughter.
Without realizing it, Lyon had become something more to them.
A protector.
A hero.
Sometimes… something closer to a king.
That part made him uncomfortable.
"Please don't bow," he'd said more than once, waving people off awkwardly. "I'm really not—this isn't necessary."
They listened.
Sometimes.
Other times, they just smiled and did it anyway.
He didn't press the issue too hard. It wasn't worth hurting their feelings.
----------
"Alright," Lyon said, folding the map and tucking it away.
He looked up.
The white, endless snow was finally behind them.
Ahead lay darker soil, patches of exposed earth, and distant greenery. The air felt different too—less sharp, less biting.
They'd crossed the frozen plains.
A quiet murmur ran through the group as people noticed it too.
"…We made it?"
Lyon smiled slightly.
"Yeah," he said. "Looks like it."
Cheers erupted almost instantly. Relief poured out in voices and tears and laughter. Some people hugged each other. Others sank to their knees, overwhelmed.
Lyon stepped aside, letting them have the moment.
It's nice to see them happy, he thought. They earned this.
After a short rest, they continued moving.
Not long after, buildings appeared on the horizon.
A village.
Intact. Standing. Smoke rising from chimneys.
The group slowed, staring in disbelief.
Lyon stopped and looked ahead with them.
"…Looks like your search may have just come to an end," he said.
----------
Few momentslater
The moment Lyon and the villagers entered the outskirts of the settlement, the atmosphere shifted.
People stopped what they were doing.
Conversations trailed off.
Doors opened cautiously.
Eyes turned toward the unexpected crowd.
It wasn't every day that dozens of weary travelers arrived all at once—many of them thin, tired, and clearly having come from somewhere harsh.
Whispers spread quickly.
Before tension could rise further, an older man stepped forward from near the center of the village. He carried himself with authority, though his posture was stiff with caution. His gaze moved between the newcomers, lingering briefly on their worn clothes and anxious expressions.
"Hello...I am the village chief," he said, voice firm but controlled. "if you don't mind me asking, Why have you come here?"
The villagers Lyon had brought, instinctively drew closer together. Some clutched at each other's sleeves. Others lowered their heads, memories of loss still fresh.
"…We're not here to cause trouble," Lyon said calmly.
He stepped forward before anyone else could speak.
Despite his small frame and youthful appearance, his presence was steady. There was no fear in his eyes—only sincerity.
"They lost their home," Lyon continued. "Their village was destroyed. And I was hoping you might be willing to take them in."
The words hung in the air.
At the mention of their destroyed village, the survivors visibly reacted. Grief resurfaced—faces tightening, eyes glistening. Some looked down, others clenched their fists.
The chief's expression softened.
The villagers around him murmured quietly, surprise and sympathy replacing suspicion.
The chief exhaled slowly.
"I see," he said. After a moment, he nodded. "Then you are welcome here. Anyone who has lost their home deserves shelter and security."
Hope spreads instantly.
Tears welled up. People gasped softly. A few covered their mouths, overwhelmed by relief. After weeks of uncertainty, the simple promise of safety felt unreal.
But the chief didn't stop there.
"…However," he added.
The joy faltered.
The chief's gaze turned distant as he continued. "I don't know if you will truly wish to stay."
The mood shifted again, tension creeping back in.
"Our village has been having a problem recently," he said. "We rely on trades with the nearest town to survive. It's our only source of income. But recently… we can no longer reach it."
Silence fell as villagers around him lowered their eyes.
"There is only one safe route," the chief explained. "And something has taken residence there. A beast—or something worse. Anyone we send goes missing. If we try another path… the same happens."
His hands tightened at his sides.
"We've tried contacting the wizard guilds. And even the Rune Knights. But no one has come."
The words weighed heavily.
Despair crept back into the expressions of the villagers Lyon had escorted. Some trembled. Others looked away, afraid to hope again only to lose it.
For a few seconds, no one spoke.
Then—
"I'll take care of it."
Every head turned.
Lyon stood quietly, hands in his pockets, expression calm.
The chief blinked, clearly confused.
"You…?" he said slowly.
From his perspective, Lyon looked no older than twelve. No armor. No visible weapon. Just a boy.
The villagers Lyon had traveled with reacted instantly.
"Wait—!"
"That's too dangerous!"
"You don't have to—!"
Lyon raised a hand gently, stopping them.
"You've been traveling for long enough," he said, voice even. "You're exhausted, and there's no way you can continue traveling in your condition...But now, you've finally found somewhere safe."
He looked at them one by one.
"And I'm not letting you walk away from that, especially because of some monster."
His words were quiet—but firm.
"This is your chance to live your life and be at peace," he continued. "So I'll gladly do whatever I can to make sure you guys have it."
The effect was immediate.
People broke down crying. Relief, gratitude, and emotion spilled freely. Some covered their faces. Others nodded shakily, unable to speak.
The chief watched him carefully.
Such kindness, he thought. And from someone so young…
He smiled gently.
Lyon turned back to him.
"So," Lyon said, his tone confident and unwavering, "where can I find this thing?"
The wind shifted.
And somewhere beyond the village, danger waited.