From Beltane to Samhain, my father cursed me to remain unseen. Only during winter will this Veiled Hag appear. I am not an evil old woman, nor should you fear this deity—not unless you hear the howls of my snow wolves. If I am on the hunt, wielding the Hammer of Retribution—you already know why this one-eyed hag is after you. May you rest in peace.

~Cailleach, the Veiled Hag of Winter

“You tried to kill my wife with this poisonous swill!” A white-haired man screamed. His wrinkled face stretched and folded like clay. The guards behind him were the only people with weapons drawn. Luthais Maddox faced them all without fear.

“It isn’t poison, you daft old man,” a small woman shouted from within the building. “If you want your wife to die, then give it back, and I’ll refund your money. Otherwise, shut up and get lost, you conniving bastard.”

“Song Lin!” Luthais admonished but had turned back towards her to hide his grin from the crowd.

“Y-y-you,” the old man sputtered, trying to find his words again. In his confusion, a girl about Crow’s age came up and grabbed the potion. Unlike most of the crowd, she was fearless and moved nimbly among them while popping the cork out of the bottle. Before anyone could react, she’d already tipped the bottle up and was sipping it down.

“K-kid! Don’t drink that,” the old man shouted and tried to snatch it back, but she dodged him too. Rather than cut back through the crowd, she sidled between the armed guards.

“Mine!” She squealed in delight, all the while moving towards Song Lin. “Tastes like berries. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

“Xue’er, stop! That medicine is too strong for you,” Song Lin called out, but even to Crow’s untrained eye, she didn’t appear nervous.

“Aww, mama,” Song Xue lowered her head and moped as Luthais grabbed the back of her collar. She looked up and grinned. “Just one more sip?”

“No.”

Song Xue pouted until she saw Crow standing nearby. She dropped the medicine on the ground and ran over to him while dodging a few more people. Once she stood in front of him, she smiled from ear to ear.

“Hi, I’m Song Xue. Wanna be my friend?” The hopeful look on her face was enough to melt hardened hearts.

“Hi,” Crow replied with a frankness that only a child could have. “I’m Crow.”

“Good. We’re friends! Meet mama,” Xue’er said and grabbed his hand and turned to face her mom. “Mama, meet my best friend, Crow.”

Luthais chuckled at the two kids and ignored the belligerent old man still screaming. “Nephew, why are you here?”

“Hello, uncle Luth! Papa brought me,” Crow said. His little hand pointed towards his father, who stood at the edge of the crowd.

Everyone turned to see Conall, and the crowd parted, not daring to block his passage. Even the screaming elder paled and went quiet. He even tried to step back into the safety of his men. Conall remained silent while staring at the white-haired elder.

“Y-you can’t h-hurt me. Not here, Maddox whelp. I want an accounting for the poison your clan sold my wife.”

“An accounting for the potion a four-year-old child just drank that neither harmed nor poisoned her? You still have the gall to ask this? Scram, old man Quinn.”

“My name is Morris.” The old man puffed up as if his name carried some weight.

Crow puffed up like him, and when Song Xue saw, she squealed with laughter. The crowd saw the little boy aping Morris and burst out laughing.

“Your name is garbage. Age brings wisdom, but your brain must have atrophied. You dare—”

“Beat him down,” Morris ordered his guards, and Conall stopped speaking out of surprise. Most knew who he was, and only a fool would dare attack him openly.

Immediately the crowd backed away, and Luthais grabbed Crow and the Song girl, pulling them back towards the healing house. This was Oiche, so none of the guards were stupid enough to take it too far, as even accidentally killing someone was a death sentence.

Seven men stepped forward, relying on their weapons and simple martial techniques rather than full-scale Druid spells. They coordinated well, and Conall understood why Morris of the Quinn clan was so confident.

Flames erupted on Conall’s fist as he struck out with his powerful body. The closest guard dodge, but the power of the blow, even if it missed, knocked him back about a meter. Two other guards used the opportunity to strike at Conall with their cudgels, none of them daring to use bladed weapons.

Upon impact on his back and shoulder, Conall grunted slightly but remained unmoved. It was a move he’d expected, and before either of them could step back, he’d already snapped his leg forward.

Crack!

A bone gave way, but Conall ignored his success. Instead, he charged into the group of remaining guards.

Crow recognized the kata his father used as his papa practically danced among his enemies and took them down without mercy. Learning how to fight differed from seeing it in action, and Crow had his eyes wide open, memorizing everything.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Ahhhh!!

Breaking bones and screaming guards echoed across the now deathly silent crowd. In recent years, since Conall had settled down with his wife and kid, people forgot about this ruthless side to him. He didn’t pull punches, nor was he scared of anyone. Even a person at his level of power was not his equal.

Only one guard remained, but he’d already dropped his cudgel. His fighting spirit had disappeared faster than a ghost.

“Now, where were we, Morris? Right! You dare frame my clan? Do you think I won’t go to your clan head and demand an accounting? The only reason I haven’t dragged you to your clan’s manor by your face is because of the Song sisters and the alliance you Quinns have with the Morrison clan.”

“No, mama is not sister,” Xue’er said, shaking her messy, flowing hair, but her eyes were still on Crow.

“You dare put those eastern witches before your people?” Morris sputtered.

Conall’s cold eyes never left Morris.

“You doubt? Then pay attention.” Conall said and cut his palm, letting his blood flow freely into the ground. “Father Oak, please bear witness. By limb and root, I make this vow. The Maddox clan has fate with the Song girls; this fate started with my wife and child and is related to the Druid Order’s survival. My vow is this…if any harm befalls Song Xue or Song Lin—I’ll kill the clan responsible, down to its very roots. By root and limb, I freely make this vow.”

An invisible force billowed outward, and all those present could feel the vow’s power, which meant he did not speak falsely. It didn’t mean what he said was true, only that Conall believed it with his entire soul.

“…does that mean we are facing a calamity…”

“…what survival?”

“…easterners are necessary for our survival? What folly is…”

Conall tuned out the crowd’s murmurs.

Everyone felt the power of the words, and no one dared doubt them. The old man Morris flinched when Conall’s eyes fell on him.

“Brother, return his money. Send out a proclamation that we will have no dealings with the Quinn clan for the next ten years. We approach tumultuous times, and if the Quinn clan cannot rectify this relationship with compensation, then I fear they won’t survive the approaching calamity.”

Luthais nodded, knowing full well that his older brother could speak with the clan head’s authority. Conall was the strongest in the clan, and the clan head was their father. He tossed several coins at the old man with no pretense and went back inside the building without caring if he caught them. The farce had gone on far longer than he liked, and Luthais still had some patients inside the house of healing waiting on him.

“Scram!” Conall said in an icy voice. He didn’t even need to turn around to see the Quinn clan standing there in shock. The Quinn clan was part of the Eastern Divide, an alliance between the clans east of Father Oak. Because of their proximity, it wasn’t unusual that the two clans stood together during beast tides and other external threats. It also meant they had a lot of business exchanges over the years.

“Sir, what do we—?”

“Shut up, let’s go.” Morris Quinn had lived a long time, most of which he’d spent inside of Tur Briste. Power of might was not how he survived that long, but through cunning tactics, intelligence, and schemes. Against someone like Conall, who was a born fighter, Quinn could only cower back and wait for a chance to strike in the future.

Morris was not an unreasonable man, but his prejudice against the easterners grew worse as he aged. Continental wars weren’t uncommon, but very few ever spilled outside the tower, mainly because no one was dumb enough to fight against a continent’s Guardian.

The Portals of Ascension weren’t the only way into or out of the tower. However, sects, academies, and other hidden powers controlled them. Of course, a powerful cultivator could create a portal to the outside world. Gideon proved that when he stole Crow’s mother.

Cultivator’s leaving the tower followed an unspoken rule. Leave all enmities from Tur Briste in Tur Briste. Not everyone could do so, and usually, trouble followed them.

Morris Quinn was one of those people. During his time there, he’d taken part in a tournament. Most of them did not forbid killing, no matter how much they frowned upon it. To this day, that old man couldn’t say whether it was a northerner or an easterner that turned the tournament into a bloodbath.

That tournament set off a chain of events leading to war. It was a bitter war without end, and dozens of years later, the feud hadn’t ended. It ultimately led to the death of Morris’ father and grandfather.

It might have been bearable if the Song family’s patriarch didn’t rescue the Morrison clan. During that war, one of the worst beast tides in history arrived. Some ranked it in the top three most devastating of all time.

The Song sisters’ father was the catalyst that ended the war. The Morrison clan created an unresolved fate between the two clans—that is, until the Song girls showed up on the Morrison can’s doorstep, asking for succor. Morris Quinn’s hate only grew more bitter every time he saw those girls’ perfect little faces and long black hair. Worse, they introduced a lot of their culture, including alchemy and specialized medicines, further endearing themselves to the Druid people.

Even now, with Conall speaking out for them and knowing that the man wasn’t lying—Morris couldn’t bring himself to care. He left, biting back anger that only grew increasingly worse.