The bitter winds that blew south ravaged the top of their carriage. Bags filled with Goblin ears and Orc fangs rolled around them as they drove through the snow covered paths of the countryside. Stefan wiped off the blood and gore on his sword with a dirty rag while Lily fussed over the bite on his shoulder.

It was wrapped in bandages and doused with a slew of herbal ointments. Lily wanted to cast a Healing Spell on it but he insisted that she used it on Fraufir. The Dwarf took a bad blow from the Ogre that allied with those Goblins and she was in a worse shape than him. Lily sighed as Fraufir handed Stefan some of her wine.

"You really should start taking it easy on the alcohol!"

"Eh, bite me. I need it to numb the pain. Hand me the needle, will you? I'm gonna stitch myself up."

Lily clicked her tongue as she handed Stefan the small box of medical supplies they kept on hand.

"I could just use [Heal] on you, you know?"

"No. You can only use [Heal] four times per day, right? Save that for when someone really needs it."

Stefan began to stitch the large gash on his leg while Lily just sighed at him.

"Luna will get mad if she sees that, you know?"

"It'll be good for her to see what happens in adventures. That way, she doesn't end up like us."

Stefan said just as he finished the stitches. He tugged at it slightly and closed it to prevent it from opening up before he cut off the excess thread with a small knife. It still stung, but at least the damn wound is finally closed.

"How's Luna, by the way? She's living with Stefan's parents, right?"

Fraufir smiled as she asked the question. She liked being called "Uncle" by the little girl even though she's a girl. It was probably the beard and muscles, but she didn't mind. It was cute.

"Uncle Frau, have any more- Ow!"

It was cute coming from the little girl, not from the 60 year old Druid covered in bird crap and nuts lying beside her.

"She's doing fine. I say fine, but I'm not really sure how I should feel about my child being taught in a military academy."

"I'm sure she'll be a great soldier. I think. Is that what you guys want?"

Stefan shrugged his shoulder while Lily just sighed at Greenhair.

"Stefan here wants her to be a farmer at the farmhouse we built. I want her to choose whatever she wants as long as it doesn't involve fighting in wars, slaying monsters, and drinking entire barrels of alcohol in one night."

"Oh. So that's a no to becoming an adventurer and a soldier then."

Fraufir and Greenhair just sighed at the overprotective couple in front of them. They could still remember the last time they visited the little girl during her ninth summer. It was a mess of a party, but at least the three of them managed to entertain the children that visited the party.

"Gods, I wonder if I'll be able to shack up with a nice woman out in the forest after this. I'm getting jealous of these two."

"Hah! You?! Who in their right mind will want a stinking old man as a damn husband?"

Greenhair growled as the Dwarf beside him laughed. He knew of Elves and Faefolk that chased after men older than him, and his heart was set on achieving such a delusional and insane fantasy.

"Tch! As if you can snag a man yourself, Fraufir."

"Jokes on you, old man! I'm not into men. I'm into the quiet, reserved, maidenly maidens myself. You know, those academic types or the country girl types?"

"Eugh, right. No wonder it's always you and Riur going into those damned brothels."

"Hey! We always invite you when we go, you just don't want to. You'd rather "commune" with nature or something."

"If you're talking about that time we went to a brothel of Low-Elves, tell them it was your idea!"

A voice came from the front of the carriage while Greenhair looked at Fraufir with eyes wide with fury.

"You went to an Elven brothel without me?! Betrayal of the highest order!"

"Relax, perv. It's just some Low-Elves and slaves. It's a sketchy place as well and the girls there weren't that lively."

"Oh. Low-Elves... Nevermind then."

Fraufir just sighed at the old man as he pulled out some nuts from his long beard. He sniffed at it for a moment before he popped it in his mouth.

"Didn't you live near a village of them, Greenhair?"

"Hm? Oh yes. They mostly hunted in the forest but they also planted orchards near the forest. They mostly kept to themselves and their festivals are quite an interesting sight."

Stefan scowled at the mention of Low-Elves. Lily didn't share his animosity with those dregs of society, but she would avoid them if she could.

They were dangerous. Even now, the scars of their wars and attempted subjugation of the continent could still be felt along the Western Coast. Many cities were razed under the banner of their king, who sought to escape the growing influence of the High-Elves of their realm. Stefan's great, grandfather was one of the many lesser nobles that fought against such a scourge. He could still remember the stories passed down their family about the brutality and attrocities the Low-Elves inflicted upon the people.

But the war is over now. Their king's crown will forever adorn the walls of the Capital Palace and his people have been scattered to the wind. They live only as slaves, thieves, mercenaries, and a people in a foreign land surrounded by the enemies they have made. Stefan saw them as nothing more but thieves and criminals, and he took great care whenever he passed them by in cities.

Still, just talking about them left a sour taste in his mouth. He looked out of the side of the carriage and saw only the raging snow storm that they were caught up in. The village they would be staying at for the night is just up ahead, and he knew that the final leg of their quest is near. He hated this quest, but they couldn't ignore such a quest since the noble personally requested for them to do it.

"Oh! I can see the village!"

Everyone peeked their heads out of the front of the carriage and found the quaint village and its small walls. It was called Snowrest, and it was plagued by the Orcs that lived in the mountains nearby. Their main quest lay in the small dungeon that was hidden in the mountainside just outside of this village. Stefancould see the light of the village as they stopped before its wooden gate.

"Who goes there?"

"Adventurers, sir!"

"Adventurers? In this weather? You people really are crazy..."

He opened the gate for them as he raised his torch to show them the way. Their horses moved slowly through the dirt path while the guard closed the gate behind them. He rang the bell beside the gate to alert the village of thier prescence.

The village itself was small and the few houses within it still have the scars of past raids by the Orcs. A quiet and gloomy atmosphere hung over the town as the blizzard around them continued to ravage the thatch roofs and batter the wooden walls and shutters of the houses around them. Stefan shuddered at the sight of a green bloodstain on one of the buildings and the deep marks on its surface.

"No wonder that lord wanted someone to come here."

Ruir said softly as he looked at the battered houses around them.

"That nobleman friend of yours better pay us big time for this."

"He's not my friend, Fraufir. He's my father's friend. Anyway, where is the village head's house? The guild said that we can find lodging there."

Stefan peeked out of the carriage while the others looked around for a place to stay.

"Adventurers! The Gods have blessed us!"

Their heads turned towards a large building to their right and to the old man wrapped in a thick coat that stood at its entrance.

It was just a large barn filled with horses, but they could see the small house attached to its side. The four of them got off the carriage while Ruir untied the horses from the carriage and lead them into the barn. The old man walked over to them and his hand trembled as he shook Stefan's hand. He didn't look like the other elders and leaders they met pn their journey, yet they could feel the same kind of charisma coming out of his frail body.

"Are you the adventurers Lord Cedric sent for us? Gods, we're terribly sorry you had to arrive in such dire times."

"It's fine. I'm Stefan, second in command. Our leader is the man tying up the horses inside of the... barn."

"Ohoho! That is actually supposed to be the village hall, but it's rarely used so- Oh! Good heavens! The snow! Pardon my forgetfulness! Why don't we go inside?"

The old man ran up to the small house beside the village hall.The four of them followed after him inside of the warm and cozy interior.

Books lay scattered everywhere with various animal heads and hides adorning his walls. Ruir followed after them quickly and scattered snow everywhere around him as he entered. The old man just laughed it off and sat down beside the warm fire that danced in his fireplace. He rubbed his hands together as he hung a kettle over the fire.

"You arrived just in time, you know? The attacks have been getting more and more fierce with each night."

The five of them stood around the fire as he pointed at a small basket of bread and biscuits on the nearby table.

"Have some. It was made by my niece. Anyway, those Orcs are getting more bold with each night. They even reached the walls last night before we managed to drive them off into the night."

"Scouting attacks. Typical Orc behavior."

Ruir said as he took a bite out of the stale bread.

"What else did they do, sir?"

"Jonas. I'm Jonas. Those damned Orcs must've come from that old dungeon those hunters found. We thought it was cleared out years ago, must've missed some."

Stefan sighed as he looked at Ruir.

Both of them knew that even empty dungeons can be dangerous. They could serve as breeding grounds for common monsters and in this case, Orcs. Ruir swallowed the mouthful of bread he had been chewing and nodded his head in understanding.

"Winter and Orcs. Not a good combination if you ask me. Harsh winters often makes monsters more desperate for food, and this looks like Orcs having a pretty bad winter."

"And I'm assuming that some women got taken as well?"

"... Sadly, yes."

Jonas sighed as he stood up from his seat. The kettle whistled slightly as he fumbled for the cups in one of the cupboards.

"You live in a very cramped house. Let me get those for you, old man."

"Thanks, Miss Dwa-"

The other four adventurers facepalmed themselves as Fraufir reached out for the cups that were just beyond her reach. Jonas chuckled and let the Dwarf get the cups for him as he checked the hotness of the tea.

"I'm not sure if they will attack tonight, and I'm not even sure if we can hold out withthe men we still have. It was a relief to hear that Lord Cedric will send some relief for us, but I don't think our small village could recover from this."

"Don't worry, we'll deal with them if they show up tonight."

"Thank you, kind Miss. Your words offer comfort to me. Thank you..."

Jonas sighed as he took off the whistling kettle from the fire. Fraufir handed him the cups as he poured each and every one of them a cup of tea.

"For now, why don't you stay at the house of my niece? We can offer-"

The sound of the bell's low tolls and deep rinigng made Jonas look up in horror. It rang a second time before going silent once more.

"... If the bell rings another time, we must rush outside."

Jonas pulled out the crossbow from below his desk as they all waited anxiously for the bell's third toll.

"What does it mean, exactly?"

Lily's words cut through the eerie and tense silence as Jonas gripped his crossbolt tightly.

"One means traders. Two means guests and visitors. Three... means enemies."

For three tense and nerve-wracking minutes, they waited silently. Jonas eased up slightly after five minutes of silence passed. He was about to ask the five adventurers if there were other teams coming to help them when it happened.

It was softer this time yet in the silence of the night and in the midst of the roaring wind, it echoed out like a faint cry for help. The unmistakable sound of something hitting the bell and the desperate shouts of a man left to his doom broke the chilly quiet. All six of them immediately rushed out of the small house as the bestial howls of the monsters they have come to hunt filled the air.

"Men of Snowrest! To me!"

Jonas yelled out loudly as Ruir began to chant quietly.

Tired and weary villagers bolted out of the wooden doors and some who have been waiting all night for this moment rushed to the side of their leader. They were armed with pitchforks, clubs, and even makeshift spears and rusty swords yet they all had that bloodshot look on their faces.

Gutteral voices and deep grunts echoed from somewhere beyone the blizzard as the sounds of something tearing apart wood filled everyone's unnerved ears. Riur finished his incantations and summoned flames all around him to light up their surroundings. The ice and snow made it hard to see anything that was 6 feet away from them, but at least they could make out the shapes that moved in the distance with it. Riur flicked his hand and shot out a large ball into the distance to see just how many they were about to fight.

"Dear Gods... Holy Liyanna, protect us."

A villager muttered out as countless shapes were illuminated running out of the treeline. There was a large hole in the small and flimsy wall they put up and the body of a large Orc covered with arrows lay beside it with its hand still gripping the massive club it used to tear down the structure. Everyone could see the shapes of the Orcs in the distance, their massive frames made it easier to spot them and their heavy footsteps made the ground beneath them shook as they charged for the village.

"T-That's the entire tribe..."

"Shit! They used the cover of snow to approach. They've probably surrounded this place now! [Flame Bolt]!"

From the tips of Riur's fingers came out pillars of bright, red flames that singed the rooftops of some houses and melted a path through the pristine, white snow. It struck down some of the shapes and made the rest of them hesitate in their mad dash forwards.

"Stefan, Fraufir! Get your weapons and as much potions as possible! Greenhair and Lily, support me and the villagers! Jonas, make a wall and don't let them get pass it!"

Stefan and Fraufir dashed for the carriage while Jonas fired a crossbow bolt into one of the massive shapes. The villagers surged forwards as Greenhair began to make a makeshift wall with his Earth Magic.

Pitchforks and axes clashed with the Orc's crude weapons as they met like a violent wave crashing against one another. The first clash was violent as the longer reach of the villager's weapons tore into the hard flesh of the Orcs that tried to rush the gap in the walls. All around the village, similar sounds of violence erupted as more and more of the wall fell to the relentless tide of green bodies.

It was Stefan who was the first to rush in to where the fighting was thickest. Riur's magical flames burned all around him and illuminated the horrible, green faces of the Orcs. Their massive fangs and deformed faces were hideous, but it didn't faze him. They stood a head or two taller than him with chests as wide as a barrel and arms as thick as a small tree, but it all proved easy targets for his sword.

"Gwaaaaaaaarrrrgghh!"

One of the Orcs near him bellowed out as it swung its axe in an arc over its head. Stefan nimbly dodged to the side and thrusted his sword deep into its soft throat.

It let out a gurgle as it tried to reach out for him with hands the size of his face. Blood spilled from its wound and its mouth as he moved gracefully and cut off its arms. Another one tried to swing at it with its club, but it splintered into tiny pieces as he blocked it with the flat part of his blade. In that moment of confusion, he thrusted himself forward and lopped off the Orc's head with a single swing of his sword.

All around him was chaos as the blizzard concealed the prescence of both friend and foe alike. Moments of clarity will appear as Riur's flames will stop the blizzard momentarily to expose the carnage that is transpiring all around them. Villagers fought off the savage attacks of the Orcs while the hulking monsters tore them apart brutally. He could see people fighting from their homes as the Orcs tore through their defenses and the desperate attempts of people protecting their homes while the monsters flooded the dirt paths of the village.

Around him were countless bodies of both Orcs and Humans, yet he pressed forward with a scowl on his face and a fire in his eyes that blazed like the roaring flames of their party's Pyromancer. Fraufir crushed countless Orcs all around her as she fought with the desperate villagers of Snowrest. She spat at the freshly fallen snow as she caved in the skull of one of the Orcs that tried to bite at her with its yellowed teeth.

"Fraufir! Get everyone to safety! Tell Riur to clear up as much snow as possible!"

"What the fuck are you planning to do?!"

Stefan turned his attention back at the raging snowstorm ahead of him as he felt the ground tremble beneath his feet.

"To kill a snake, you must aim for its head."

In a series of quick strikes and stabs, he killed the four Orcs that tried to jump at him from the cover of the snow. He stood over their bodies like a demon covered in the blue blood of the Orcs that lay dead at his feet.

Fraufir nodded and yelled out to Ruir for him to cast his most powerful spell. He sighed as he cleared a path for the women and children with his flames. The black ashes and charred bodies around him made it annoying for him to breathe, yet he pressed on as he protected Lily and Jonas while they led the people of Snowrest to the village hall. Greenhair stood at its entrance as his stone walls and wooden spears halted any Orc that tried to storm it.

"Fire that burns away even the shadows of the night, I summon you to do my bidding! [Fury of the Flames]!"

Wings of flame appeared behind him as large pillars of fire rose from the ground. His blue eyes gleamed in the light of his flames as he commanded his magic with the grace and beauty of a musician producing their masterpiece.

He no longer battled the tide of Orcs that tried to rush at him. They were nothing more but ants waiting to be burned in the light of the sun. His battle was with the damned heavens itself now as his flames halted even the raging snow that swirled all around him. The brightness of his flames peeled away even the veil of the night as it bathed the entire village with light comparable to that of the sun itself! He turned his flames towards the source of the Orcs, the forest that lay just beyond the village.

That was what Stefan was waiting for. With the light of Ruir's flames, he charged at the numerous Orcs that rushed out of the forest. There were dozens of them as they ran out of the trees with their weapons in hand, and there were a dozen more that circled around him with snarls on their faces. He let out a roar of his own as he charged at them with unrelenting fury.

"Stefan!"

Lily's voice failed to reach him as she watched her husband charge into the seemingly endless mass of green. She clasped her hands together and prayed.

"May you bless him with the strength to triump against all odds and to deliver him from the clutches of death. [Blessing of the Goddess: Fortitude], [Blessing of the Goddess: Greater Healing]."

Though her voice didn't reach Stefan, the Spells she casted did.

He smiled as he felt his exhaustion disappear and his wounds began to close up. He clutched his sword tightly and watched as the Orcs charged at him recklessly. One of them swung down its rusty battle-axe at him and he nimbly dodged it before he hacked off the arm that held it with his sword. The Orc roared out in pain for a moment before he slit its throat with a swift flick of his hand. And as he pulled away from the lifeless corpse before him, two bodies burst into flame on either side of him.

"Thanks, Ruir!"

The Pyromancer nodded as he burned down swathes of Orcs that tried to circle the Swordsman.

Stefan laughed as he revelled in the carnage he brought to the monsters that tried to bring him down. Orcs watched as the seemingly unstoppable man approached them on his own volition with a sinister smile on his face. His eyes were locked intently on them as his silent footsteps through the snow made him look like a phantom of death. They looked at the man, at the monster that moved towards them, and felt an emotion they would never associate with Humans. For the first time in their lives...

They felt fear.

With a final roar, Stefan charged forwards with the force of his entire body behind him. His mighty swing sliced apart a handful of Orcs that found themselves unfortunate enough to be in his path. But as Stefan turned to chase after a small group of Orcs that managed to dive out of the way, he felt the trees in front of him bend unnaturally.

"Gwir uhru Ka Th'orain!"

He dodged just in time as a massive axe destroyed the trees in its path of destruction.

As he rolled out of the way and into a safer distance, he stared at the owner of the axe with magical runes inscribed on its edge. It was a massive Orc that stood much taller than the others. It wore a helmet made out of the skull of a boar with antlers attached to it. It wore no armor but a patchwork of numerous hides from different predators hung over its shoulders. It had gloves made out of the paws a great bear and a necklace filled with different kinds of teeth hung over its burly chest.

"An Orc Chief... Finally, a worthy challenge."

Stefan smirked as the two of them stared each other down. Its massive tusks poked out of its mouth as it snarled at him angrily. Stefan adjusted the grip on his sword as Ruir's light slowly faded away.

The Pyromancer gulped down a Mana Potion as the Druid beside him helped him up to his feet. The Orcs in the village have retreated, but they were still surrounded. Fraufir lay beside Lily as she treated a massive gash over her chest after an Orc managed to get a lucky strike on her when she tried to protect a mother and her child. They could offer Stefan no aid as he stood alone against the massive Chieftain of the Stone Tusk tribe.

The Orc said something in Orkish to him, but he didn't understand. Instead, he simply lifted his sword and entered a low stance as he readied to attack. It let out a roar that shook the mountains themselves before swinging its massive axe in an upward arch. Stefan jumped back and rolled to the side as it came down on him like thunder. With a low grunt, it heaved its massive axe over its head and swung down on him once more.

Stefan didn't have the time to dodge this time. He met the powerful blow with a blow of his own, yet it was clear who the winner was from this exchange. The downward blow of the axe made Stefan kneel from the force of such an attack and the bones of his arm cracked under the weight of the massive axe. The Orc snarled and in a surprisingly quick motion, it swung the axe in a large crescent in front of it.

Stefan would've died if he didn't rolled backwards. Blood dripped from the shallow gash on his chest as he ripped off what remained of his steel chestplate. He picked himself up from the ground and clutched his sword as the Orc Chieftain stared at the man before him warily. He knew of powerful adventurers that could easily kill him, but he was different. He could tell that the man isn't that powerful, nor did he have any special weapons on him. Yet the man stood up from the ground, a smile still plastered on his face as he gripped his sword with both of his hands. He was just a regular adventurer, so why?

Why are his instincts telling him to run?

The Orc let out a roar as he readied himself for the conclusion of this fight. He will end this man's life, like so many others before him. He is what stands between death and the survival of his tribe, and he will not let his tribe die a pathetic death in the frozen caves of these mountains. Behind him is his bretheren, and on his shoulder is not just his ask but the weight of his responsibilities as Chieftain. And he will see his tribe through this bitter winter even if it means the slaughter of a thousand souls.

"Urouaa!!!!"

He bellowed out with a mighty roar as the strange man dashed towards him.

He met his daring charge with his own, his eyes locked intently onto the silver blade that gleamed in the moonlight. He could hear his son yelling out from behind one of the trees as he swung his right arm in an arch. The man stopped in his tracks and immediately ducked as his axe passed through where his neck should've been.

His eyes widened as he felt the tendons in his right foot get ripped apart by a blade that has been dulled by the blood of his bretheren. Yet even with the searing pain, he refused to fall. With a mighty yell born out of desperation, he struck the warrior with the back of his hand and sent him flying a few feet away from him. As the man staggered up to his feet, he looked down at the damage done to him.

Sinews and muscles were ripped apart like chewed rope and he knew that he will never walk the same if he lives through this. He took one of the teeth that adorned his necklace and bit down on it as he forced himself to stand. By now, his tribe could tell that they have lost. Many of them are fleeing, yet a small handful remained to see what will become of their great Chieftain. With a low and bestial growl, he lifted his axe above his head and let out an ear-piercing roar that stilled the night,

"Ilik! Sur tu Kilric! Warrgha i Human!"

With his proclamation to the Twin Gods of the Orcs, he steeled his resolve as he embraced his fate. He will die here, but he will not let his tribe die here with him.

His brothers roared out in Orkish as they dragged off his crying son as he tried to rush to his father's aid. The young boy has much to learn about the harshness of the world, but he will learn. But it will not be by his guidance, and that pained him more than the mortal wound on the back of his leg.

He let out a grunt as he faced the demon that wore the face of a man in front of him. They are adventurers, and he is an Orc. They live in the same world and fight over the same things in the name of survival, yet it is his kind that will never know peace. It was his fury that fueled him to move forwards and it was that bitter truth that strengthened his resolve to face the enemy of his people. With a final roar, he charged forwards with his axe over his head and he will bring this monster down even if it costs him his life.

"And just like that, the battle was over in a flash. The Orc Chieftain tried to behead me even though it could no longer move and it cost him his life."

Stefan finished his tale just as he finished his fifth cup of ale. Everyone was speechless as he scratched at the scar at the side of his neck.

"Woah... You must've been amazing when you were younger."

Stefan smacked the back of Semilia's head as he stood up from the table.

"I'm still young, idiot! I'm just 40!"

"If 40 is young, then Semilia's still- Ow."

Riel didn't finish her sentence as Semilia flicked her forehead. The others at the table just looked at the strange trio as they left a small stack of coins as payment for their meal and drinks.

"B-But Sir Stefan. I still have a question!"

All eyes turned towards Katherine as she met the adventurer's curious gaze.

"Why... Why didn't you hunt the rest of the tribe down?"

Stefan paused for a moment, then turned his back on the table. He let out a sigh as he gave his answer.

"We didn't need to. The frost finished them off for us. Killed them as they retreated through the forest."

Katherine, Arron, and Eric shuddered while Ludwig just stared at Stefan's strange expression.

"Stefan, is something wrong?"

Ludwig's voice was sincere, yet Stefan recoiled at his words.

"No... I don't think so. Thanks for worrying, Ludwig. See you guys tomorrow at the dungeon."

As he left, Stefan couldn't help but remember the sight of the mountainside on that day.

Aside from the carnage that surrounded the village, the frozen bodies of not just the male Orcs but also their women and children can be seen strewn across the mountainside. Their frozen faces forever contorted with fear and despair stuck with him even to this day. He could still remember the four bodies he found beneath that frozen oak tree and the memory left a bitter taste in his mouth as he recalled their faces.

For it was a mother and her child, their final embrace captured by the cold that put them to rest. And they were being shielded by two, familiar Orcs from the bitter cold that eventually killed them.