Chapter 639 Rime and Ice Trees

The Rime Hills, or perhaps more accurately, the Rime Forest.

Located at the border between the northeastern frontier of the Servia Kingdom and Northern Untergard, it had become a tacit buffer zone between the two nations following the war many years ago, with both sides guarding their respective borders.

To this day, adventurers and merchant caravans passing through still often found belongings left behind by the soldiers of both nations during the war, hidden among the brittle, ice-caked branches and beneath the thick snow covering the ground.

The Royal Geographical Society of the Servia Kingdom believed the Rime Forest was formed by cold air from the northern plateaus clashing with warm, moist currents from the southeastern ocean, tangling together above the local hilly terrain.

The low temperatures, abundant moisture, hilly topography, and dense local vegetation—combined with a minuscule yet crucial amount of magical particles—turned this crystalline forest, perpetually shrouded in ice and snow, into a tangible reality.

In contrast, Northern Untergard's explanation for the origin of the Rime Hills was far more superstitious.

They believed the Rime Forest was created by the [Winter Goddess] Auril, formed from the torn shreds of her garments that fell during that earth-shattering divine war.

Between these two explanations, if this were his past life, Xia Nan would have believed the former without hesitation.

But here on the Aifala Continent—especially considering the [Fate Glimmer] die he currently carried—the latter theory of divine creation did not seem entirely unconvincing.

The squad's destination was a small human settlement in the southern part of the Rime Hills named Ice Tree Village.

Exactly as they had planned before resting last night, the party of five arrived at the village right around noon. From the other side of a nearby slope, they could already see smoke curling up from the woods in the distance.

Like the other remote villages Xia Nan had encountered during his adventures, Ice Tree Village lacked any meticulous architectural planning. It simply expanded outward from a narrow, moss-covered cobblestone path running through its center, with houses scattered unevenly into a few rows.

On the other hand, in stark contrast to the relatively warm climates of the Southern Archipelagos, Cloudclimb, and the Upstream Coast Province, most of the houses in Ice Tree Village were semi-subterranean. Their interiors were sunken into the ground, while their outer walls were constructed from sturdy fir and oak. The roofs pitched at extremely steep angles to shed accumulating snow and prevent the structures from collapsing under the weight.

The villagers dressed plainly, primarily in dark shades of gray, black, and brown. They wore multiple layers that bundled their bodies bulkily, and the vast majority of them sported felt hats with ear flaps.

Since the party made no effort to hide their tracks, the villagers spotted Xia Nan and the others from a long way off.

It caused quite a commotion.

By the time they reached the village entrance, an old man with graying hair and a thin, stooped frame—likely the village chief—was already waiting for them in the clearing at the edge of the settlement, surrounded by villagers and braving the biting wind.

"Oh! Honored lords! Please forgive me for not coming out to greet you sooner. What a terrible breach of manners!"

Before the group even drew close, the old man hobbled forward a few steps on his own initiative. His posture was exceedingly respectful, carrying a faint hint of awe, and he spoke with eager warmth and utter humility.

Perhaps because they suffered the ravages of the freezing winds year-round, the villagers of Ice Tree Village looked much older than their actual age.

Judging by his life aura and physical mobility, the village chief before them was probably in his fifties.

But looking at the overlapping folds and wrinkles carved into his face by the harsh winds, anyone would readily believe he was in his seventies or eighties.

Xia Nan knew exactly what their identity as "adventurers" meant in the eyes of ordinary villagers.

He had fully expected this kind of reaction from the Ice Tree Village chief and his people.

His dark eyes shifted, sweeping over the anxious, terrified faces of the villagers huddled ahead.

Xia Nan mentally organized his words, figuring out how to state their purpose as gently as possible so as not to disrupt the villagers' daily lives too much.

Beside him, however, his temporary teammates from the Sulfur Dragon Breath squad beat him to the punch, stepping up to address the gray-haired chief.

"Hey! Old man! Did any other adventurers pass through your village a few days ago?"

Treating the villagers' warm welcome like thin air, and even somewhat savoring the fearful stares of the commoners, the green-skinned half-orc named Gank lifted his chin high and snapped rudely.

Xia Nan frowned slightly, shooting the idiot a sidelong glance.

But immediately after, under his sharp Perception, the somewhat unnatural reactions of the villagers ahead caught his attention.

He noticed that the moment the half-orc finished speaking, a rather subtle stir rippled through the crowd gathered at the entrance.

They exchanged glances, their mouths parting to let slip involuntary gasps of surprise, yet in the very next instant, they fell collectively silent with a bizarre, unspoken synchronization—as if they were all guarding some secret hidden from outsiders.

Before Xia Nan could think further on it, the village chief bowed his already stooped back even lower, hiding any change in his expression from the group as he murmured, "This damned weather is freezing. Please, my lords, come inside first."

"The hearth fire is already lit. Whatever pressing matters you have, it won't be too late to discuss them once you've warmed yourselves up."

Snort. A blast of hot air shot out of Gank's thick nostrils, condensing into a plume of mist in the frigid air.

Seeing that the old man had not answered him directly, the half-orc Gank instantly gnashed his teeth and glared. Veins bulged beneath the skin of his thick arms as he reached for the warhammer on his back.

"That's enough, Gank," said the bard Uriah, the temporary leader of the Sulfur Dragon Breath squad, reaching out just in time to rest a hand on the half-orc's shoulder.

"There's no rush. We have plenty of time. Let's head inside first."

As if he did not respect this temporary leader, the green-skinned half-orc shrugged his shoulder impatiently, shaking off the hand resting on him.

But they were teammates who had fought side by side for years. Since Uriah had spoken, Gank did not press the old man any further.

He simply scoffed coldly, crossed his arms over his chest, and turned his head to look away.

The building used to host these suddenly arriving adventurers was the largest and most respectable wooden cabin in the village, situated right in the center of Ice Tree Village.

The layout was simple and the environment clean, clearly swept on a regular basis.

The roaring fire in the hearth drove away the chill in the air. The villagers who had gathered at the entrance to welcome them were left outside along with the freezing cold.

This left only the squad and the village chief himself in the room.

Leaning by the window, Xia Nan's dark eyes reflected the villagers outside as they gradually dispersed, their steps slightly hurried as they clustered together to whisper among themselves.

Xia Nan's thoughts drifted.

Inside the room, Uriah had already begun discussing their purpose with the chief of Ice Tree Village.

"Relax, we're not going to do anything to your village."

"If things go smoothly, we'll be out of here before sundown today. We won't even need to stay the night."

Compared to the half-orc Gank from earlier, the human bard Uriah still spoke with a lofty tone, but at least he managed to express the group's stance relatively amiably and clearly.

He made it clear that, barring any accidents, they would not harm the residents of Ice Tree Village without reason.

"Of course, this—requires your cooperation."

His tone grew slightly heavier.

Seeing the old man nod repeatedly in careful trepidation, Uriah finally curled his lips into a satisfied smile and explained, "We are an adventurer squad from Bloodcast Keep. We came to your village because we picked up a quest from the fortress."

"Half a month ago, a professional adventurer squad heading back after completing their mission was attacked by a banshee while passing near your village. Very few survived."

"And our target is precisely that dangerous monster."

"A banshee?!" As soon as Uriah finished speaking, the elderly village chief sitting across the table cried out uncontrollably. "Right near the village? H-how could that be?!"

He might not have known the specific Challenge Rating of a monster like a banshee, or any other detailed information about it.

But clearly, the chief understood the lethal danger it posed to ordinary people.

"Exactly!" Seemingly very satisfied with the old man's shocked reaction, Uriah smiled, picked up the steaming cup of tea from the table, and took a sip.

"Your village is quite lucky, actually. With this many people, if that monster had really noticed you, I'm afraid not a single one of you would have survived."

"However—"

Seeing the chief's expression grow increasingly terrified, Uriah deliberately drew out his words before continuing.

"Rest assured, we came here specifically to help you take care of this monster."

"And we don't need any payment—"

"Food!" the half-orc Gank suddenly interrupted. "Get us some food, and fetch a few fat-assed—"

He only got halfway through before Uriah glared at him and snapped in a low voice, "Watch it! Our mission isn't over yet. Don't forget Captain Gretchen's rules!"

Knowing he probably could not keep the half-orc in line on his own, the bard had no choice but to bring up their missing captain.

It was quite effective.

The moment "Gretchen" was mentioned, Gank, who had been staring eagerly out the window at the village, instantly deflated.

He lowered his head, muttering something about "don't use the captain against me," but he did not bring up his earlier demands again.

Cough. Uriah cleared his throat somewhat deliberately.

Looking solemn and serious, Uriah asked the old man for intelligence regarding their quest. "Tell me. What do you know about that adventurer squad, and about the banshee near your village?"

The chief swallowed hard, the loose folds of flesh around his neck trembling. He raised his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the bard Uriah staring right at him, the resentful half-orc Gank sulking beside him, the half-elf Rogue in the shadows of the corner, the bald ranger near the door, and Xia Nan standing by the window with the Winter Wolf at his feet.

His eyes flickered for a brief second, hiding whatever thoughts ran through his mind.

Then, in a cautious, reverent tone, he recalled, "Uh—if I remember correctly, the adventurer squad you mentioned had six people in total. Four humans, one half-orc, and a dwarf in heavy armor, right?"

"That's right!" Matching it against the quest information provided by Bloodcast Keep, Uriah gave a slight nod. "But in the end, the dwarf was the only one who made it back to the fortress alive."

Confirming they were talking about the same squad, the chief breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Then that's them," he said, weighing his words carefully. "They did pass through here back then, but since our village is so isolated, we didn't have anything good to offer them."

"Those adventurers only stayed for one night and left the very next day."

It was not any particularly noteworthy intelligence. Hearing this, Uriah fell silent, lost in thought.

And right at that moment, Xia Nan, who had barely spoken since entering the room, suddenly spoke up. "Offer them?"

"Did that adventurer squad not ask for anything extra back then?"

At those words, the chief's face abruptly changed color. Even though he recovered his normal expression a second later, that split-second stiffening did not escape Xia Nan's eyes.

Forcing a polite smile onto his face, the chief replied, "Just some supplies they might need for the road. The lords were helping us deal with the dangerous monsters in the woods; it was the least we could do."

"Um—also, as you know, the Rime Forest is just an endless stretch of identical crystalline trees and white snow. If you aren't familiar with the local terrain, it's very easy to get lost in there."

"So before they left, those lords specifically hired a hunter from our village to act as a guide."

"Oh?" The bard Uriah's eyes instantly lit up. "So aside from them, there was also a hunter from your village present?"

The chief gave a heavy nod.

"Where is he? Is he still alive?"

"Still alive, my lord."

"Then what are you waiting for? Call him over!"

Looking at the bard, whose emotions had surged inexplicably at the discovery of a clue, the chief displayed a perfectly timed look of regret. He spread his hands and said, "I am truly sorry, my lord."

"Your timing is unfortunate. This hunter just left the village to go hunting the day before yesterday, so—"

Looking disappointed with a tinge of suspicion, Uriah scrutinized the chief for a moment, his tone turning hostile. "He left the day before yesterday? When exactly will he be back?"

"Please rest assured." The chief lowered his eyes. "According to his usual habits, he should return to the village by tomorrow afternoon before sundown at the latest."

Tch. Across the table, knowing that their plan to finish the target and head straight back today had already failed, the half-orc Gank let out a heavy scoff.

He did not speak, merely shooting a cold glare at Uriah beside him.

"Fine."

Feeling the pressure from his teammate, the bard's expression grew slightly unnatural. Maintaining an awkward facade of authority in front of the chief, he declared, "Then we will stay in your village for one more day."

"Tonight, whatever fresh meat and fine wine you have to offer—bring it all out!"