Chapter 55

The Kingdom may be an island nation with ongoing development, but much of its natural landscape remains untouched. While urban centers, ports, and logistical hubs flourish, rural farming villages with no notable industry still lead lives close to old-fashioned self-sufficiency.

At the noble level, a lord might rule over multiple towns, but it is also true that many lands are governed by commoners, with Kliffia being a prime example. The village at the foot of the snowy Mount Isberg—Isberg Village—is one such place.

A cold snap had already arrived. The magic-driven carriage continued its steady trek along roads adorned in white makeup, its tires gripping well without getting stuck in the snow. The “floor heating” function seemed to be working reasonably well, keeping the interior at a tolerable temperature. While “comfortable” might be a stretch, the cabin maintained a steady 15°C while the outside air dipped toward freezing. With no drafts to speak of, anything more would be luxury.

However, the easy part of the journey ended here.

At the representative meeting in the Order’s “traditional” conference room, it was announced that contact had already been established with the village and certain arrangements were in place. I’ve decided to stop questioning why I, a mere subordinate below the rank of Vice-Commander, am always summoned to these meetings.

The objectives: Investigate the unidentified creature, prevent further damage, and, if possible, retrieve the specimen. Vice-Commander Rony’s orders were specific: considering the risk of escape, prioritize carcass retrieval over live capture. Most knights would find that a relief; killing is always simpler than catching.

“First, we will meet with the village chief to confirm the site, then scout the mountain with a local guide. Since the initial phase involves a small team, those of you with free time should put your backs into shoveling snow for the village.”

“Is it snowing hard enough to require the Order’s help?”

“Well, it’s a bit more than usual… but the villagers rarely leave their homes, so they’re quite curious about rare visitors. This is a PR operation. They’ve agreed to be flexible with food supplies, so it’s only right we repay the favor.”

That made sense. Most members would be idle until the scouting was done anyway. Unlike Kliffia, the people of Isberg seemed cooperative, so building rapport was a smart move.

Of course, this logic follows common sense—something Akina, the head of the Tool Creation Squad (whom Senior Njya classifies as a “rustic barbarian”), clearly lacked, judging by her blatantly annoyed expression.

“If they’re doing it because they want to, we don’t have to pay ‘em back… I don’t wanna go out in the freezing cold! My fingers are the greatest weapons of the development team—what if they get frostbitten!?”

“Ah, by the way, Captain Akina, your team will be heading out to learn the mechanics and placement of local hunter traps, so everyone is deployed.”

“WHAAAT!? I didn’t hear anything about that!”

“Pardon me, Vice-Commander, but our Toma might fall into an eternal slumber in the snow, so deployment might be difficult… Also, please ignore the Captain’s whining.”

“You! Hey, Zato! Don’t ignore me! I hate the winter outdoors! I have nothing but bad memories of the snow!”

“Stop throwing a tantrum at your age! You’re supposed to be a Captain!?”

And there it was—a hallmark of the Order: an explosive argument between Captain Akina and Vice-Captain Zato.

The fight ended swiftly a few seconds later when Zato was sent flying by a punch. He remains a remarkably fragile man. I wonder why the men in our Order—not just him—are so weak in unarmed brawling? Maybe I should teach them some kickboxing?

“I fear for what’s ahead… Ah, Varna-kun, for no particular reason, please come along too.”

“Understood. I’ll go get my winter gear on.”

“Look at the honesty of this cute junior. I wish I could give some of his integrity to a certain woman who scatters selfishness everywhere despite her age…”

“If you keep saying things like that, Akina-chan is going to hit you again, you know?”

“I’m used to it… at least my bones are sturdy.”

Looking at Nonoka-san as she looked after Zato—who was sprawling on the floor while spitting poison—I sometimes find myself slipping into philosophical dilemmas about “what it means to be an adult.”

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING AN AGING, UNMARRIED, ‘BORN-WITHOUT-A-BOYFRIEND,’ MARRIED-TO-THE-JOB, DISAPPOINTING BEAUTY, YOU BASTAAAAAARD!?”

“I didn’t say all that! And don’t go inflating the story by calling yourself a beauty—GAH!?”

As a side note, Zato’s sturdiness is legendary. He’s famous for never shedding a single drop of blood no matter how much he gets pummeled. Rumor has it he once won a contest of stubbornness against an Orc’s club by using his head.

I suspect that’s a lie, but according to Dr. Pheles, he is “the only person in the Order who never visits the infirmary.” It’s a waste that his combat ability is so low. My plan for a “No-Armor Meat Shield” project: scrapped.

White, as far as the eye could see—as if I’d wandered into a picture book.

That was my first impression upon arriving at the village.

Fortunately, the snow was falling lightly, but it had already piled up nearly to my knees. It seemed the villagers had been considerate enough to clear some snow for the Order; walls of snow taller than a grown man towered around the carriage’s arrival point. The snow currently on the ground must have fallen after that initial clearing.

It’s amazing people can live in such an environment. A problem was discovered where the Order hadn’t accounted for snow accumulating on the roofs, so weather observers and shovelers were hastily appointed.

No matter how hard you try, the unexpected always happens.

I heard that falling snow in the north can easily bury a person alive. It’s chilling. I’ll probably have to sense it before it falls and slice the snow in two, or I’ll be in danger myself.

Captain Garmon scooped up some snow with curiosity, letting the powdery flakes scatter in the wind.

“Wow… the snow is so powdery. It almost never snows back home, but I always had the impression snow was wetter.”

“It’s because the air is so dry. I’ve heard that in other countries, they have things called ‘snowmen’ and ‘snow huts’—my son actually threw a tantrum once because he wanted to try making them so badly.”

Vice-Commander Rony followed suit, pinching some snow while suddenly getting a distant look in his eyes. Apparently, his son is showing signs of a rebellious phase. That just makes me feel sad.

That aside, I also had a period as a child where I longed for snowmen and snow huts. However, there’s a reason why the snow that occasionally piles up near the Royal Capital can never recreate those fantastical cultures.

“If you try it with Capital snow, it just mixes with dirt and trash from the ground. You end up with nothing but a lump of filthy ice.”

“Ah, so you tried it too? I did it with my son once. It seems Capital snow has too much moisture; we made a truly disgusting-looking lump. Before we even finished, my son screamed ‘This isn’t it!!’ and destroyed it with a broom.”

“He’s aggressive, isn’t he?”

Vice-Commander Rony’s son is apparently quite the hothead.

Still, I understand his feelings all too well.

For starters, you can’t roll a snowball for your life in the damp snow of the Royal Capital. And even if you manage to get one moving, it never stays round. Since you end up scraping the bare ground along with the snow, the bigger the ball gets, the filthier it becomes. Most people give up while trying to make the second tier of a snowman, long before they ever get to the “snow hut” stage. That sheer grubbiness is enough to single-handedly shatter any illusions from a picture book.

In that regard, this Mount Isberg is surely the place where childhood dreams can come true. It is, however, preposterously cold. The proof is right there: Captain Akina, her nose practically dripping icicles, is glaring at us with a terrifying intensity as we stand around having a carefree chat about snow.

“Stop blabbing and move it… I can’t handle the cold…! Besides, Toma is useless in this, and the three brothers—Ottoman, Troya, and Liberya—are all from the south, so they’re toast too!!”

“Wiped out before the mission even begins? That’s bleak.”

“I can still move!! Or I could, if you guys would stop blocking the path with your pointless snow stories so we can actually reach the village chief’s house!!”

But I digress.

Not just the chief’s house, but every building in this secluded village had a sharp, steeple-like roof shaped like a conifer tree to combat the snow. The houses themselves were built on foundations nearly two meters above the ground, and without exception, smoke was billowing from every chimney.

It was a beautiful townscape. The uniform houses floating in a sea of white made for a perfect picture. But these homes weren’t just pretty; they were brimming with functional beauty—a fact that hit me the moment we stepped inside the chief’s house.

“It’s so cold outside, yet so warm in here.”

The log-cabin interior held a cozy warmth that made my heavy winter gear feel like a nuisance. The temperature difference must have been at least 20°C. Village Chief Fabre, who welcomed the Order with warm smiles and warm milk, added a gentle explanation.

“Well, it’s a harsh climate. Our ancestors thought long and hard about how to stay warm, and it’s thanks to them that we can live through the winter without freezing.”

I nodded, feeling a strange sense of admiration. It sounds obvious when you think about it, but our modern world, full of conveniences, only exists because of the wisdom passed down through generations like this.

“Long before our Order started fighting Orcs, this village was fighting nature—the cold and the snow. You’re our seniors in that regard.”

“My, you knights certainly know how to flatter. You’re the first knight to ever speak of us country folk with such respect.”

“No, but seriously, this is…”

Surprisingly, it was Captain Akina—someone who usually couldn’t care less about tradition—who bit into the conversation.

“There’s an entrance on the second floor specifically for the snow, and are these boards on the windows for protection too? Especially this fireplace… it’s structured so you can smoke meat inside, and it uses the steam from the water pot to keep the room humid. It’s annoyingly rational…”

I let out a wry smile as Captain Akina wandered around the chief’s room without asking, peering at everything and trying to touch things until Nonoka-san slapped her hand with a sharp “No!” It was a sight where chronological age and mental age were perfectly reversed.

Apparently, the Captain’s previous foul mood had vanished, replaced by a deep curiosity about Isberg’s architectural culture. Even if it was outside her usual field of expertise, as a craftswoman, she was clearly drawn to the unknown structures.

Problem children aside, the discussion between the Order and the village proceeded smoothly. For one thing, cases like Kliffia, where everything turns into a massive dispute, are actually the minority. Plus, because we’d taken a few days for preparation, the information was consistent with what we’d been told beforehand.

“So, that unidentified white, monster-like creature is still appearing?”

At Vice-Commander Rony’s question, Chief Fabre nodded solemnly.

“Yes. Just as before, we’re finding carcasses of winter-active wildlife on the mountain, and mountain huts are being smashed… the young men and women of the village have been losing sleep, terrified of when it might attack us. We can handle a bear or a boar, but against something that big, we’re helpless.”

“No, that was a wise decision. Taking action without prior knowledge could have led to casualties. From here on, we shall… no.”

The Vice-Commander trailed off, cleared his throat, and corrected himself.

“With the wisdom of the people of Isberg, who know these winter mountains best, we shall overcome this hardship together!!”

Indeed, performing this mission with the Order alone would be difficult. We are professionals at hunting Orcs, so dealing with a three-meter-class monster isn’t a problem in itself. But a knight is a knight. We aren’t Matagi¹ hunters who climb snow-covered peaks in the dead of winter to track beasts, nor are we mountaineers who know the true terrors of the slopes.

Therefore, to stand against this world of absolute cold and death, closed off by the white snow of mid-winter, the cooperation of this village was indispensable.

Moved by Rony’s passionate words, Chief Fabre gave a firm nod and reached out his hand. The chief’s hand, nearing seventy years of age, was etched with wrinkles that served as a testament to years of hardship and battle against the cold.

“As people of this village, we will help in any way we can. We shall lend you the full extent of Isberg’s wisdom and strength!”

And so, another mission for us, the Royal Foreign Hazardous Species Countermeasures Knights, began.

…All while ignoring Captain Akina, who had been rummaging through the chief’s house instead of listening and had just discovered a bear pelt.

“…This pelt is magnificent. I wonder if they sell these? If not, we should buy some and flip ’em. Look, with this quality, we’d get a great price!”

“It is beautifully processed, yes, but if you don’t start doing your job as a knight, Chronicler Yagara is going to get on your case again, you know?”

I recalled that we’d be saying goodbye to that recorder next year anyway, but pushing that idle thought aside, I grabbed the Captain by the scruff of her neck and hauled her back toward the group—following Vice-Captain Zato’s manual on “How to Handle Captain Akina,” which noted she offers less resistance when pulled from behind.

It’s a fantastic manual. I should have Senior Toma make a copy.