“I can walk on my own.”

Even after being released from Verne’s grip, Jayce still felt the need to say something. Just the mental image of being dragged through the city like a pet rock on a leash was enough to send a chill down his spine.

“Of course you can walk,” Vorona agreed. “But you would arrive faster if Verne carried you. Actually, it would be fastest if I carried you.”

Vorona stepped forward and Jayce stepped back. Verne was nearly two meters tall and could at least carry him above the ground. Vorona, on the other hand, was only a meter tall.

Thankfully, Verne interjected, saying, “Why would you come? The head asked for me.”

Vorona swayed to the side in a gesture that resembled cocking one’s head. “Then why bring Jayce?”

“Do you think they called me over to fight? If there’s an urgent problem at the border, it’s almost certainly related to the village’s sentinel towers. There should be some value in Jayce watching me fix the problem.”

“Ahem,” the village head coughed, alerting Jayce and the rest. They realized that the metal dove had not left yet. “I would appreciate it if Vorona could also come. I don’t expect anything to happen but its better to be safe than sorry. I’ll explain the situation when you arrive.”

After saying this, the dove flew up and darted out of the wide tassel-covered opening that Verne had instead of a door. The head didn’t mention Jayce, which signaled that he didn’t care if Verne brought him or not.

“It seems things are more complicated than I thought,” Verne muttered, turning to Jayce. “I’ll let you decide. Do you want to come?”

Jayce nodded. From what the head said, there wasn’t any immediate danger at the border. Since that was the case, he may as well see what was going on. Jayce was also curious about these sentinel towers. He knew that the villagers normally didn’t patrol or make any other efforts to guard against intruders because Snowdrift was protected by a ring of stone towers. These were something the Federation installed when the village was first built, and even if the villagers gathered all their collective wealth, they would only be able to match the cost of two or three towers. Meanwhile, the Federation had constructed several dozen to surround the village. It was clear that they once had a vested interest in Snowdrift's success, but all of that changed when Life-Stealing Pass was sealed off.

Soon after Jayce and the others stepped outside, they collectively froze in place. Jayce frowned and the two weavers’ antennae wavered as an unfamiliar voice swept through the village.

“And so, the beggar ran to Welgrim. His filthy, gnarled fingers grasping at the man’s sleeves.”

The voice’s tone was light and earnest, and it had an indescribable quality that made it sink into one’s bones.

“Great philosopher Welgrim! The beggar asked. What is the value of my life? What is my worth compared to a god? What is my worth compared to the grand queen? Even a decent woman will scorn me as though she is my lord and I dare not rebuke her. What is the meaning of such a life?”

Following the voice, Jayce arrived at a random street in the village’s central area. There, a crowd had gathered around a four-armed youth. Like all male jotun, this youth was around 3 meters tall and had pale blueish skin, red hair, and bright red veins. His clothes were a mix of ragged cloth and furs that, when combined with his unwashed appearance, made him look like a beggar. His short hair was tied up in a rat tail and he looked very young. Jayce was sure that he was younger than Weiss and her team. However, none of those things stood out when compared to the cursive ‘X’ mark that sat upon his forehead. There were similar markings on his arms and back that shone through his clothes regardless of their thickness.

Seeing those marks caused Jayce to come to an obvious conclusion. When he glanced at the villagers in the crowd and saw their serious expressions, Jayce knew he was right. “That’s an exile? How did—”

Verne hastily clapped a hand over Jayce’s mouth and shot him a look. For some reason, no one took action while the boy monologued.

“Welgrim looked down at this hunched figure and smiled. He said, friend, there is no need to add ‘such a’ when you speak of your life. You, that woman, our gods and even the grand queen only have a single soul each. Whether it is scorn or kindness, they affect all souls equally. You must cherish your own life as you cherish the queen’s and cherish that woman as you cherish our gods. Love must have no discrimination.”

Jayce noticed Soest and the bow wielding elder standing at the front of the crowd. It seemed that they had been among the first to arrive. Soest’s wrinkles drew deep furrows in his skin as he scowled but he didn’t interrupt the jotun.

“You call yourself lowly, but are you really so humble? You still wear the clothes of slain beasts thoughtlessly. You still eat meat without sending prayers. Those smaller lifeforms also only have one soul, and you must cherish them as well. You see the spite in others, but you must first examine yourself. Have you tried your best to spread love and peace without discrimination? That woman’s words were like the frigid air. A weak will might shiver, but those with conviction will stand unbowed.”

With his monologue finished, the jotun closed his eyes for a few seconds before turning to look at Soest. “I apologize for creating a scene, but your glare earlier made me fear for my life.”

The jotun’s calm tone made it difficult for anyone to believe his words but when Jayce used Essence Appraisal, he saw that this person had only opened the first gate. Male jotun had S-Rank life orders while the blue-furred race was only B-Rank, but it would take a miracle for this youth to survive against an opponent whose level was almost three times higher than his own.

“If I was going to kill you, do you think you could change my mind so easily?” Soest growled.

“What else could I do but try?” the youth replied with a smile.

“Come with us,” the bow wielding elder ordered. “You’re Frode, right? There’s someone looking for you.”

The youth, Frode, nodded and obediently followed the two elders. When he left, the crowd burst into frenzied whispering. Everyone was worried about how an exile managed to enter the village.

“Verne, why did everyone wait for him to finish speaking?” Jayce asked.

“You could call it a superstition but disrespecting the words of a living god invites misfortune. Because that speech contained quotes from the Red Philosopher, no one wanted to interrupt.”

Jayce furrowed his brow. “Assuming that’s true, wouldn’t Frode be disrespecting that god by using his words as a shield?”

“Normally, yes. But if that boy truly believed in what he was saying, then there might not be any repercussions. Anyways, let’s follow them. We’re all heading to the same place.”

Walking at a brisk pace, they caught up to the elders and followed them towards the border. Soest seemed to have expected Verne because he only glanced at the weaver without saying anything. Meanwhile, Frode noticed Jayce and his eyes opened wide.

“Oh? What race are you?” he asked while blatantly sizing Jayce up. “You don’t have blue hair, don’t have five eyes, your skin isn’t wet…You certainly aren’t one of my kind, either.”

Jayce didn’t reply. Even though Frode didn’t show any hostility, Jayce was still very wary of this exile. Male jotun were powerful but they had a natural tendency for violence and could go out of control if they were pushed too far. A jotun that lost control once was likely to relapse and so Elysia would forgive whatever sins they committed while rampaging and banish them after their first offence. Because the villagers saw groups of exiles as an even bigger danger than monsters in the Frozen Expanse, Jayce wasn’t going to underestimate this guy. Casually revealing his race, and particularly his life order, could be dangerous.

“Hey…Oi…” Frode called out, his sunny expression tensing up. “Don’t ignore me. Hey!”

Frode’s voice had a strange quality that made it impossible to ignore, but that last word was on a completely different level. It seemed to leap out of Frode’s mouth and charge into Jayce’s body, causing him to stumble a bit. Jayce even felt the blazing white-purple flame that was his soul flicker slightly. Still, he only balked for a moment before shaking his head and continuing onward.

When he saw Jayce’s non-reaction, Frode’s jaw slackened. “Huh? You’re pretty tough.”

“If you use another ability in front of me, you can forget about being sent home in one piece,” warned Soest. Anyone could see that he was in a terrible mood.

“It just slipped out,” Frode muttered, finally quieting down.

While Frode grew calm, Jayce’s mind was racing. Those words suggested that Frode had activated an ability subconsciously, which meant that he had very high affinity with his class. By now, Jayce had mostly memorized the low-level abilities of each basic class, but he couldn’t understand what Frode had done to him. These thoughts led him to a surprising conclusion.

‘What if Frode’s affinity rating is S-Rank? Could he have already promoted his class?’

It was also possible that Frode had a special class, but that was even less likely.

After that small incident, Jayce, the two elders, the two weavers, and Frode reached the border without any other delays. There, they met with a similarly large group that was split on two sides between a sentinel tower. Snowdrift’s side had the village head, Egan, his son Leon, and Marin, while the other side only had a single male jotun.

That jotun was relatively short and because of his slouching posture, he looked even shorter. He wore the same type of slender skiing gear that Weiss’s team used but his had been worn down from overuse. With hair braided in cornrows, a thin jaw and a pointed nose, his features naturally settled in a disarming, impish look. Jayce could easily picture him as a low-level hooligan who could only pick on the weak.

And yet, when Jayce used Essence Appraisal, his breath caught in his throat. How much Jayce learned from this ability depended on the difference between the target’s life order and his own, and because his ability had been upgraded after passing both of the first gate’s tests, Jayce had never failed to appraise someone before. Even now, Jayce didn’t completely fail, but he wasn’t able to see how many gates this jotun had opened. Jayce only got a vague feeling about the man’s power.

Feeling a little frantic, Jayce quickly targeted the three elders with Essence Appraisal to compare. Each elder was, of course, at the third gate—somewhere between level 60 and 80. Jayce could clearly feel that their levels were lower than this jotun’s but while this difference was significant, it wasn’t overwhelming. Thinking about it, Jayce concluded that this person was probably at the threshold leading to the fourth gate.

Worryingly, this jotun also had an ‘X’ mark on his forehead and similar lines shining through his coat sleeves. He was an exile, just like Frode.

“Hey, hey, Tosk!” Frode called out, waving his arms at the jotun on the other side of the tower. “I found someone interesting, so let me stay here a bit longer.”

“Hmm?” Tosk hummed, revealing an enigmatic smile. “You make it sound like I ordered you to come here, but that can’t possibly be true. This is all just a big accident.”

Soest grit his teeth. “An accident?”

“Well, it was Frode’s fault for snooping around the village, but who would have expected this sentry tower to malfunction? You should be thankful that Frode was the one who discovered this issue. If someone malicious found it first…this village might have been overrun in a single night.” Tosk shrugged and continued. “Anyways, I’m just glad that my fellow exile has returned unharmed. You’re very lucky, young man. Now come over here and let these people get on with their business.”

Frode nodded reluctantly but before he could step forward, Soest’s arm snaked out and grabbed his neck. Tosk frowned while Frode carefully raised his hands in surrender. Soest’s wolf ears and tail were bristling like mad as he stared at the village head.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “Are you really sure about this?”

“I’m sure,” the head nodded. His expression was calm, but his ringed tail was constantly curling and uncurling. “Let him go.”

Soest released Frode and the young jotun walked briskly to Tosk’s side. He glanced back at Jayce and then turned away. Frode clearly didn’t want to push his luck any further.

Jayce and the villagers watched the two jotun stride away. After the pair disappeared beyond a faraway snowbank, the village head turned and addressed everyone.

“Egan, Verne, Marin, after watching that, I’m sure you can guess why I called you here. I want the three of you to fix this tower, find out how it was sabotaged to allow exiles to pass through, and then check every other tower around the village before the festival begins.”

Everyone nodded silently. Beneath those bushy eyebrows, the village head’s eyes were uncharacteristically serious.

“Work hard and please don’t underestimate the severity of this situation.”

---

Once they were far away from Snowdrift, Frode turned to Tosk and said what was on his mind. “Hey chief, why didn’t they kill us? We were threatening them, saying we found a way past their defenses. The simplest solution would be to remove the threat, right?”

“Haha,” Tosk chuckled. He looked like a simple punk, but Frode secretly felt that was the scariest thing about Tosk. “Killing a low-level kid like you isn’t worth it. As for me…They could kill me, but they can’t afford the cost.”

“What cost?”

“It’s almost time for the Resplendent Earth Festival. Visitors will be coming and those three old mutts are the only ones in the village who have opened the third gate. Maybe they could slay me by attacking together, but I’d certainly kill at least one of them. The other two would likely be injured as well. The travelers who visit during the festival aren’t always kind people, and those elders need to be at full strength to keep the peace. If they forced the issue here, Snowdrift would descend into chaos during the festival and then be finished off by my men when they come to take revenge.”

“Oh, I didn’t think about it from their perspective,” Frode muttered, rubbing his chin. “Do you want me to tell you what I found?”

“Later. The most important thing we learned today was that the Federation still has zero presence in Snowdrift. I don’t care what that letter says, I’m not going to charge in without confirming the situation myself.”

“But we just gave up our biggest advantage. That tower was damaged by the person who wrote that letter and we don’t know how to copy them.”

Tosk shook his head. “We haven’t lost the element of surprise. In those mutts’ eyes, we’re unlikely to make a direct attack on Snowdrift. Even if we captured the village, the Federation wouldn’t let such bold actions go unpunished. It would be smarter for us to make them feel threatened and then extort them—under normal circumstances, that is.”

“Normal circumstances…” Frode echoed.

Less than a month ago, they had received a letter from Elysia’s higher ups exhorting them to attack Snowdrift village. It was difficult to tell if this letter was genuine, but the promised rewards stirred up Tosk’s camp of exiles. As word spread and the camp grew more excited, the letter’s validity ceased to be an issue. Even if Elysia didn’t support them in the end, they could still escape into the snow fields with a large amount of loot.

“Besides, I want them to focus on their borders,” Tosk added. “That letter gave us two ways into the village. The first was the malfunctioning tower and the second was a route through the Frozen Expanse. Even though it will be riskier, appearing from the dungeon’s entrance gives us a much larger advantage. Heh, you’ll be very busy when the time comes, my young bard.”

Frode’s calm expression flickered for a moment before he turned to salute with both pairs of hands. “The chief’s orders are absolute.”