The five ogres advanced toward us—not running, but marching at a deliberate, steady pace, their eyes narrowed with a determined focus, preparing for a fight. They were clad in uncured furs and crude pieces of metal, held together by ropes that barely passed for armor. Their weapons were a mix of clubs and salvaged human gear, which looked almost comically small in their massive hands.

  I dismounted from my horse and approached them.

  “Hi there,” I greeted, my voice light and friendly, with just the faint echo of an otherworldly vibration. “If you have a moment, would you mind if I asked a few questions?”

  The ogres exchanged glances, then looked back at me. Their weapons lowered, confusion flickering across their faces.

  “Well, we were planning to kill your group,” one of them said, “but since you’re a messenger of the Abyss, it would be in poor taste to harm your companions. I suppose we have some time to spare.”

  “Wonderful,” I said enthusiastically. “We’re looking for a creature, likely a very powerful one, that should have appeared in this area right before the snow began. Would you gentlemen happen to know anything about it?”

  They conferred among themselves for a moment before one of them replied.

  “There were two other members of our group who vanished a few days ago while hunting near a lake in that direction,” he said, pointing. “We tried to track them down, but there were no clues.”

  “I’m sorry for the loss of your companions,” I offered.

  “Don’t be. I was considering killing them myself—they were insufferably annoying,” the ogre replied bluntly.

  “That’s understandable. Anyway, thank you for the information,” I said.

  After exchanging farewells, we parted ways.

  I turned to the other three members of our group—Uther and Professors Locan and Dahlia—who were staring at me, their eyes wide and mouths slightly agape.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked, glancing down to check if my bodice had come undone or if something was stuck to my clothes.

  “You’re starting to get really comfortable with that,” Uther remarked, his voice tinged with a mix of concern, fear, and admiration.

  I quickly recalled what I had just done, and he had a point.

  “I suppose I am...” I replied in an unnecessarily apologetic tone while mounting my horse.

  It was true that I was becoming more comfortable with monsters. Not because they no longer scared me—they most certainly did. Nor was it any reconciliation between my human mindset and values with their way of life. It was, instead, a passive acceptance of the sheer absurdity of it all.

  My gift wasn’t the ability to converse with fluffy white bunnies, but the power to engage with monsters—and monsters were, quite simply, monstrous. There would always be a stark cognitive dissonance between my sense of right and wrong and theirs.

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  Still, I must concede one point to the monsters: humans were far from blameless in this conflicting relationship. It would be hard to find a single human who wouldn’t exterminate them all, given the power to do so. When Central had the upper hand, hunting monsters was less a necessity and more a pastime. The concept of coexistence never even crossed our minds—not until we were left with no other choice.

  “What did they say?” asked Locan, dragging me away from my philosophical internal monologue.

  “They said two other ogres disappeared near a lake in that direction a few days ago,” I pointed out.

  The Guild representative provided us with all the information he had regarding the gating event and the three adventurer parties that were sent to investigate it—two of which were lost. Hardly an inspiring prospect.

  In the end, we decided to venture out as a group of just the four of us on a reconnaissance mission. Our objective was simple: gather as much information as possible about the nature of the Cataclysm and retreat at the first sign of danger.

  Locan extended his hand, and a magical circle formed in front of him, emitting a soft hum that was almost soothing. He moved his arm in a slow sweeping motion, and the bright yellow circuit followed suit.

  “I don’t detect anything odd, just a slight increase in mana flow toward that direction, but this can have dozens of explanations.” He lowered his hand, and the circle extinguished. “We don’t have any other lead; we might as well check that lake in person.”

  I was not exactly thrilled with the idea of going to a place where monsters the size of ogres disappeared without any clue, but there was no point in saying it, everyone was probably feeling the same.

  We found a trail in the midst of a low-density forest and followed it with our horses at a steady pace. Luckily, the last two days had been particularly warm, and some of the snow had melted, which made our path clearer but muddy. The air smelled of wet ground and pine. There was this rhythmic crunch of snow underfoot and the feeling of cold wind over my clothes.

  Dahlia came closer to me and commented in an amused voice:

  “You have a strange way of dealing with the monsters we encounter. It is almost like you try to befriend them.”

  I looked at her.

  “Miss Dahlia, I once met an Orc boss named Garaktinur who taught me a harsh lesson about this power: there’s absolutely nothing stopping a monster from killing me on the spot. I don’t dominate them; they just see me as someone important, and how they react to that can vary greatly.”

  I remembered the absolute terror I felt when Garaktinur asked “What are you?” close to my ear. He had all the reasons to despise the voice of the Gods and strength enough to crush my head like an egg.

  “I don’t think this is a power meant for someone like me.” I added. “I imagine commanding people like Master Uther or Prince Alan would benefit from it much more than I do.”

  There was also a lifetime of indoctrination about being submissive and deferential that made it challenging for me to be imposing, but I didn’t want our conversation to veer into that.

  “I don’t know, Gift,” Dahlia interjected. “The way you’ve used the Seal has been remarkably effective so far. It’s clever, subtle, and above all, cautious. You’ve done a great job of minimizing the harm it could cause.”

  “Except for the part about invoking a Cataclysm, you mean,” I joked, my giggle carrying perhaps a touch more bitterness than intended.

  “Anyone can have a minor fumble like that now and then,” she replied with a laugh. “Once we’ve dealt with this one, we’ll investigate what caused the gate and work on a contingency plan to prevent it from happening again. Don’t worry.”

  We arrived at a frozen pond nestled deep within the forest.

  Next to it, amid dried bushes and snow, stood a hunter's cottage. It was twice the size of the one we had found in Silverlake. The structure looked well-kept and inviting. Through the window, the faint, flickering light of a fire promised warmth.

  “It looks like someone lives here,” Uther observed. “Maybe they’re the ones who killed the ogres.”

  Locan stared at the cottage, his gaze lingering for a few moments.

  “In that case, we should ask,” Locan proposed. “If they did, we can disregard the ogres' lead. They might also have information about the Cataclysm.”

  “Let’s go there, but stay alert, this could be an ambush.” Commanded Uther.

  We dismounted and advanced carefully, looking at every tree and shadow as a possible danger.

  I was so focused on searching for something that I didn’t notice what was missing.

  Like the sounds of the forest, swallowed by an eerie silence.