It was winter, the further north they went, the colder the weather became.
They traveled for several days, braving the winds and snow, avoiding populated areas, opting for desolate coastlines and frozen tundras.
The wind and snow blurred the boundaries between heaven and earth, looking around, all that was visible were vast snowfields and a lead-gray wrathful sea.
What they saw along the way was all frozen desolation.
The abandoned fishing village's wooden houses were half-buried by snow, like giant tombs.
Occasionally, they encountered scattered Ainu hunters avoiding the ravages of war, each wrapped in thick animal skins, their eyes wary and fatigued.
They learned from these hunters a piece of news: outside Beilu Road, near the northeast corner of Ezo Land, strange occurrences had been frequent in recent months.
