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The horses' hooves sounded heavy on the frozen ground, their rhythm regular yet tense. The animals' breath billowed white, like smoke from slowly extinguishing embers, soon to be swallowed up by the cold wind.
The northern forest was silent, except for the rustling of dry leaves, whispering faintly as if watching the three young men from the shadows.
Arthur sat upright in his saddle, his gaze piercing the darkness of the snowy road. Thoughts swirled rapidly through his mind: the missing caravan, the "casket with the golden seal," the secret treaty that could spark war.
It all revolved around one thing weighing heavily on his chest—the responsibility of Andalus, the family's honor, and the future of the empire.
Beside him, Jilld never let his guard down. His left hand held the reins of his horse, while his right occasionally touched the hilt of his sword, a reflex of a Lombard heir raised to be always ready.
His gaze pierced the back of the traveler who was walking a little further ahead. The suspicious look was clear: the Lombards never trusted strangers.
The shabbily dressed young man seemed to sense Jilld's gaze. He turned his head halfway, a faint smile appearing on his face. There was something sly in his eyes—amused, as if he were enjoying a game.
"Interesting," his voice was low, half a whisper, but clearly audible over the howling wind. "I never thought the heirs of Andalus and Lombardy would ride with me without hesitation.
If I had malicious intentions… wouldn't you have fallen into a trap from the start?"
Jilld snorted, his body straightening, his eyes cold.
"If you tried, I would have left your head in the snow long ago."
Arthur turned his head briefly, his voice calm but firm.
"Enough, Jilld. We must not be drawn into anger. Let him speak. Even lies can lead us to the truth."
The traveler laughed softly, his laughter bouncing off the tree trunks.
"Hah… you are so different, Son of Andalus. You hear more than you speak. That's a dangerous quality." He paused, his gaze sharpening.
"But… was that calm still there when you saw blood staining the snow?"
Arthur remained silent. But his eyes, reflecting the pale moonlight, spoke louder than words.
The journey continued. The snow thickened, swallowing the old tracks, making the world seem nothing but white and shadowy. Then, dimly, Jilld caught sight of something ahead—a toppled torchlight pole, half buried in snow.
She immediately halted her horse, jumped down, and brushed the snow off with her cold hands.
"This is new," he muttered, his voice sharp. He picked up a broken wheel fragment, the wood still freshly cracked. "A caravan passed through here a few days ago. Heading north."
Arthur dismounted as well. He knelt down, examining the partially covered wheel tracks. His heart beat faster—the evidence was too obvious to ignore.
"We're on the right track," he said quietly, but with conviction.
The traveler stood a few paces behind them, his arms crossed, his face half-calm and half-mocking.
"This trail will bring you closer to what you seek, Son of Andalus. But the closer you get… the greater the danger that awaits."
Arthur stood tall, his blue cloak billowing in the wind. His eyes were cold yet gleamed with determination.
"Danger is no reason to retreat. I am a son of Andalus.
My family name, our honor—all are at stake. If war can break out over a single chest of golden seals, then it is my duty to prevent it. Even if it costs me my own blood."
Jilld stared at him for a long moment. Something trembled beneath her gaze—a respect she rarely showed. A faint smile finally appeared on her lips.
"Hmph.
Then, I'll come with you. Andalus or Lombardy, we're both bound by this road. If anyone dares to trap you… they'll have to pass through my sword first."
The traveler chuckled, then stepped forward again, as if leading the way lightly.
"Then, get ready.
The North knows no mercy. This path… belongs to those who dare to challenge death."
The night sky darkened. The pale moon hung dimly, as if reluctant to illuminate what lay ahead. The three shadows of the horses moved slowly, ever deeper into the mysterious north.
Arthur glanced at Jilld, then at the traveler's back. In his chest, determination hardened.
He knew—every step now was no mere quest. This was the beginning of a battle that would shake the foundations of the Klux Klan empire.
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