A lone squirrel leaped across the snowy tree branches. Its bead-like eyes followed three people navigating a downhill path.
Quaa, quaa!
It held an acorn in its hand.
Back to the three figures, one of them almost slipped on the thin layer of snow.
"Oops. Damn it. That was close."
Iria managed to grab his forearm before his balance completely gave out, pulling him back to safety.
"Are you alright, my lord? Is the temperature insufficient? I can increase the output of the warmth of my magic."
"Don't bother. This is more than enough."
"Understood."
Seven extended his hand, letting a single snowflake settle onto his open palm.
Thanks to Iria's precise magic, a thin layer of zi enveloped his skin like a protective suit. It served two exact functions: keeping the cold out and trapping his body heat within.
"Please inform me the moment you feel even a slight chill."
"Aight."
While keeping a sharp eye on his physical condition, Iria's mind was heavy with an entirely different concern.
"Will the lord actually be able to handle the stimuli of the outside world?"
After all, he had spent his whole fifteen years inside the manor.
A bird caged since the day it hatched does not instantly know how to fly just because the cage is opened.
Iria generally opposed this notion.
Going out and exposing himself to the public also clearly invites trouble no matter where you look at it.
Even if his appearance remains a mystery, that even his face was a total mystery to the knights assigned directly under his name.
Including the man currently walking a precise three paces behind them.
Seven turned his head slightly.
"Hey. I could feel your gaze at the back of my head since we left the manor. Am I really that interesting?"
"...Ah."
The knight simply adjusted his posture, and his expression remained stoic.
"I apologize if my gaze caused discomfort, young lord. I have stood guard at the manor for fifteen years, yet today is the first time I have been granted an audience."
"And now that you have?"
"I am simply adjusting my expectations to fit the reality."
"Are you disappointed?"
The knight stopped walking.
The knight didn't panic, nor did he awkwardly throw himself into the snow to beg for mercy. Instead, he simply gave a 45-degree formal bow from the waist.
"I, Heinrich Edward, do not permit personal emotions such as disappointment to interfere with my duties, young lord."
Seven, however, wasn't convinced.
"Be honest with me. I won't eat you alive."
Seven then glanced toward a nearby pine tree, where the squirrel from earlier was busy munching on an acorn.
Heinrich adjusted his leather cuffs.
"To be frank, you seem to be remarkably ordinary compared to your older siblings, young lord."
"..."
Plop!
The startled squirrel accidentally dropped its acorn into the snow.
Upon hearing that response, Seven nearly choked from trying to hold back his sarcastic laughter.
'Ordinary, eh…?'
If it weren't for the curse plaguing his body, would he have turned into a terrifying monster like the rest of his family members?
Such thoughts crossed his mind, but thinking of that, again, wouldn't change anything.
"...Let's go."
"As you command."
The three of them resumed their way downhill.
According to Iria's prior brief, the village was roughly two kilometers away from the manor. Normally, it would take a twenty-minute walk, but the light snow on the path inevitably slowed their pace.
Step, step.
Eventually, the dense pine trees cleared, opening up the horizon.
Iria stopped first. She extended a gloved hand toward the settlement nestled below.
"We have arrived, my lord. That is the village of Neamh."
Seven's gaze followed the direction of Iria's gesture.
A wide valley unfolded beneath them, flanked on both sides by tall mountains thick with dark green pine trees that climbed almost to the peaks.
Snow lay lightly over the land, softening the edges of rooftops and fences, turning the slopes into layered shades of green and white.
"Beautiful. It's... unexpected."
Seven was genuinely captivated.
The village of Neamh wasn't crowded like that of a typical fortress town.
The wooden houses, built from thick timber planks with slanted roofs designed to endure heavy rain and snow, were loosely scattered across the valley.
Thin wisps of gray smoke curled lazily from stone chimneys, blending into the pale sky.
A single dirt road cut through the village entrance, branching off into smaller walking paths that wound between homes and winter farmlands in neat rectangular plots with narrow walking paths.
It looked exactly like the peaceful, fairytale villages described in old storybooks.
Seeing him completely dazed and fascinated by the mundane sight, Iria's calm expression softened just a little.
"Let us go down, my lord. It is even more interesting up close."
Step, step.
Soon after, they reached the entrance. It was a simple wooden gate made of rough timber slats, anchored to a waist-high dry stone wall built without mortar.
Heinrich stepped forward and scanned the perimeter.
"Young lord, please wait here for a moment. I must change my attire. I assume you wish to keep your arrival confidential."
"Go ahead."
"I appreciate your understanding. It will take less than three minutes."
Step.
Heinrich walked toward the gatehouse. It was a modest two-story wooden tower near the entrance.
"That is the village gatehouse, my lord."
Iria explained quietly.
"Most of the manor's knights hail from this village, and a few are always stationed here for regular patrols."
"Oh. But is that much security necessary for a peaceful place like this?"
"Yes, my lord. Every now and then, merchants pass through the village to buy local produce, and I am afraid not all of them carry honest intentions."
Just then, a local patrol knight wearing leather boots and a sword at his hip noticed two strangers lingering by the entrance.
The knight's eyes narrowed, and he began to approach them.
"Galahad."
A sharp and commanding voice rang out from the gatehouse, and the patrol knight froze instantly.
Heinrich stepped out.
Heinrich was now dressed in a plain brown tunic, gray trousers, and kept his standard leather boots.
Galahad immediately struck a formal salute.
"I greet the Vice Commander, Sir Heinrich!"
"At ease. Come here."
Heinrich waved a hand dismissively and then beckoned him over.
Heinrich whispered a few instructions, making Galahad nodding repeatedly.
With a brief, respectful glance toward Seven and bowed once, Galahad turned on his heel and then resumed his patrol down the village pathway as if nothing had happened.
Heinrich walked back to the entrance.
"My apologies for the delay. Finding a properly fitted tunic took longer than calculated."
"Don't bother."
Seven stepped forward, but noticed only Iria followed after a few steps ahead. Heinrich remained standing still near the entrance.
Iria turned around.
"Sir Heinrich? Are you not coming?"
"I will maintain a distance of exactly twenty paces behind you."
Heinrich calmly checked his pocket watch.
"Walking directly alongside me will only draw unnecessary attention from the villagers. I have already instructed the local patrol to secure the perimeter. Please enjoy your visit, young lord."
Iria nodded and looked at Seven.
Before any of them could speak a word, Iria gently grabbed the edge of his sleeve as a faint and reassuring smile played on her lips.
"Let us go, my lord. Welcome to Neamh."