The northern wind howled like a living thing, dragging curtains of snow across the frozen plain. Kana moved through it in silence—little more than a shadow gliding over white. Each breath came out as mist, quick and shallow, vanishing before it reached her eyes.

  Earlier at camp, after Suri delivered the principal’s orders, Kana approached all her party members who had reached lvl 10 with the exception of Boris, Suri, Leo and Adam then left. It was strangely exciting and she learned many things about skills that didn’t even have a record in the books.

  Now, after hours of running, fatigue gnawed at her legs. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, steady as a war drum. She could feel her focus slipping—the telltale weight behind her eyes.

  She needed shelter. To sleep.

  She focused on her [High Awareness], a shimmer across her mind’s edge. Ahead—stone, hollowed, warmth trapped beneath ice. A perfect spot in a damn winter. A cave.

  Kana stumbled in and let herself fall against the wall. The air smelled of old earth and mineral dust. It wasn’t deep, but large enough to fit a dozen people. She throwed the fire stone like pebble into the firewoods that she had from her [Inventory], and faint light danced to life—pale, flickering, wrapping the space in a fragile glow. Toby’s endurance buff had long faded; she could feel the cold creeping into her bones again.

  She unwrapped a small cut of meat—from Suri’s stock of meat, no doubt—and skewered it on her blade. The fat hissed as it met the flame, releasing a sharp, savory scent that fought the smell of smoke.

  It was strangely quiet. Too quiet.

  No monsters. No sounds beyond the wind. Not even the distant cry of any animals.

  Her brows furrowed. Something is wrong.

  The northern dungeon overflow had never been silent. Even with Suri’s illusions or Zia’s wards, the wilds always moved, always whispered.

  Can they really control them all? she thought. The dungeon monsters… if so, if she could get one of them… Is it possible to make a makeshift dungeon to level up? Just for me?

  If that was true, then whoever commanded them wasn’t just powerful—they were organized. Intelligent. Dangerous.

  Kana blinked once, her vision softening. The warmth of the fire was too comfortable. Her body sagged, consciousness slipping before she could even finish the meat.

  Sleep came fast.

  When her eyes opened again, it was too dark. The fire had died, leaving only embers glowing faintly red. Her breath misted in the cold air.

  Outside, the snow whispered—soft, deliberate, like someone stepping just beyond sight. She continued her sudden journey deep in the dungeon.

  …..

  Kana was long gone when Wor-en gathered the rest of the students.

  “As you all know, Kana had left first due to special quests assigned to her.” Wor-en said,”Now, things became more dire and serious than we had thought.”

  “Soon, the main force of the north will march, and we will back them up to destroy the core of this whole dungeon.” Wor-en announced, “We will camp and wait here until they arrive.”

  The northern soldiers lifted their weapons and shouted, excited about what was about to come while the rest of the students grunted for another additional task.

  Snow drifted lazily over the camp, hissing as it met the dying embers of the fire. The northern wind had gentled for once, leaving only the soft creak of leather and the muted clang of steel as the students checked their gear.

  “Sounds like a lot of work.” Toby yawned, sitting cross-legged near the fire. His breath came out in thin white streams. “I want to go home. I miss my bed.”

  Rin rubbed her arms, her hood drawn tight. “Where’s Kana going?”

  “Since she’s the fastest,” Suri said, still sketching faint runes in the snow beside her, “let’s just say she went ahead already.”

  “I feel bad for her,” Toby murmured. “My [Dispel Curse] only lasts a few hours. Once it wears off, she’ll start freezing again.”

  The words lingered for a moment, swallowed by the cold. Each of them had seen Kana fight—her stubbornness, her quiet fire—and no one doubted she’d keep moving. Still, they all knew how cruel northern nights could be.

  While the others pondered the principal’s orders, the group of boys busied themselves with something practical.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Boris crouched beside the firelight, turning his spear under the glow. Faint cracks webbed along the silvered shaft, catching the light like cracks as if it were veins. “This enchanted spear is more fragile than I thought.”

  Leo leaned in, resting his sword against his shoulder. “That’s what happens when your skill’s built for breaking things. You need durable enchanted weapons, not flashy ones.”

  Adam grinned and hefted his axe, testing its edge with a thumb. “My axe is still good as new.”

  Roy sat nearby, wiping a thin dagger clean with a piece of cloth. The blade caught the firelight, glinting like glass. “This one belonged to my skeleton summon. I bought it cheap, but it still cuts just fine. Sometimes the simplest tools last longest.”

  Andel tilted his head, adjusting the strap of his lance. “You should visit the shop where I bought mine. The owner’s a bit eccentric, but the craftsmanship’s unmatched. Mention my name—you might get a discount.”

  Boris groaned, the spear shaft groaning with him as he flexed it. “This is not good. I’ll have to borrow one from the northern soldiers before this thing snaps.”

  The campfire crackled. Sparks drifted upward, vanishing into the dark. Around them, the night stretched cold and quiet, the kind of silence that always came before something stirred again.

  …

  Kana slowed her breathing, the cold air burning her lungs. Two human voices—she was sure of it—but all she saw was an eagle perched high on a snow-dusted branch. Its feathers shimmered faintly in the moonlight, as if catching more light than the night allowed.

  Her instincts screamed wrong.

  Then the eagle’s shadow moved.

  It didn’t stretch naturally—it peeled off the branch, sliding down the trunk and pooling across the ground like living smoke. The darkness coalesced, folding itself into the shape of a man.

  Kana gripped her dagger tighter.

  Like the shadow man, she thought.

  The man stepped into the light. Bald, clean-shaven, with a jaw like carved stone and a posture that spoke of precision. His movements made no sound at all. His fitted clothes bore faint glyphs that shimmered once and vanished.

  His voice came deep and calm, the kind that silenced noise around it.

  “Stop what you’re doing, Artin. You’ve won.”

  Kana blinked.

  The eagle let out a cry—a strange sound, almost like a sigh—and then its form shimmered. Feathers folded inward, bones cracked, and flesh rearranged with an audible snap. In its place stood a man: broad-shouldered, wearing a cloak lined with white fur. His grin was boyish, familiar.

  “Long time no see, Kana,” he said.

  Her tension eased, but only slightly. “Good to see you, Sir Artin.”

  The bald man’s eyes flicked toward her. “I am Lex Tah. [Assassin] class. A royal knight—like him.”

  Kana nodded slowly. “I’m Kana. [Ranger]. I was told to come here.”

  Artin’s smile softened. “Yes. I specifically asked for you.”

  For a heartbeat, they just stood there—the three of them framed by the quiet forest. The air was so still she could hear the faint crackle of frost forming on bark.

  Then, quite suddenly, Artin’s stomach growled. Loudly.

  He gave a sheepish laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah… transformation magic messes with my insides. My stomach never keeps up.”

  Lex clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. “I don’t think so.”

  “I like to think that’s my charm,” Artin said with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  Kana couldn’t help but feel the tension between them—something unspoken, old, like steel dulled by time but never rusted.

  They were royal knights. Seeing one was rare but seeing two at the same time? Her gut told her something big was coming.

  ….

  Kana blinked as Lex dropped a small handful of gold into Artin’s waiting palm. The coins flashed bright in the dim light—too bright for the place they stood—and Kana’s curiosity pried itself forward.

  “What’s that for?” she asked.

  Artin popped a piece of meat between his teeth and grinned, the animal side of him showing as his face shifted for a half-second into something primate like a monkey, then back again. “We made a bet,” he said, chewing. “Who’d get here first.”

  “You bet on me?” Kana’s voice carried amusement and a little pride. “Why me?”

  Artin transformed his head back to monkey and shrugged, the motion loose and casual. “Instinct,” he said. “My animal part told me to.”

  Kana laughed—sudden and loud in the cold air, the sound echoing off the snow-laden branches. She had to clutch at her stomach to keep from doubling over. The sound surprised her as much as it did anyone else; people usually saw her as sharp and reserved, not given to—well—this. Artin watched her with a small, pleased expression, as if she’d just done something she’d been hiding.

  “I didn’t know you could laugh like that,” he said, half-teasing, half-wondering. “You’re always so serious.”

  She wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to compose herself. “Sorry. It’s just—your face. It changes. It’s ridiculous. I didn’t know a monkey could talk.” she said, breath fogging with the words.

  Artin’s grin softened. He tossed the remaining meat into the fire, letting the crackle swallow the moment.

  Lex shifted, the movement like a shadow being pulled taut. “It’s time,” he said. He straightened, the furrow to his brow cutting the air into a harder edge. “Time to meet His Majesty.”

  Before Kana could ask how, Lex’s form folded inward as if pressed by the night itself; then he was gone—no fanfare, no crack of sound—only a faint warmth where he’d stood and the shadow remaining a fraction too long on the snow. Kana watched the place he’d been, fingers tightening on her bow.

  “Can he really go to the capital like that?” she asked. There was a question in her voice—half technical curiosity, half worry.

  Artin shrugged again, more earnest this time. “Yes. No. He can mark two points with his [Shadow Link],” he said. “If the shadow is anchored, he can slip between them. He told me, regardless of distance, it would be shortened by one step. But it gets a chunk of his mana. Not to mention very long cooldowns. You don’t do that on a whim.”

  Kana absorbed that, the knowledge settling into her mind like another useful thing to catalog. “Interesting skill,” she murmured. “And—why am I here, exactly?”

  Artin’s smile broadened until it was nearly teasing. “We’re here to rescue the crown prince,” he said. He delivered the line as if it were a joke, and maybe it was—except for the way his eyes sharpened afterward. The flames painted his cheekbones with moving shadows; the seriousness returned.

  Kana blinked. “Sounds…exciting,” she tried. It came out flat.

  “No,” she corrected, and the word struck itself on the cold. “Not at all. I’d rather be killing dungeon monsters.”

  Artin simply chuckled in response.

  Too much hard work and I’m not even going to get an exp.

  Kana looked like she had no choice as soon as she arrived at the meet up point. Not to mention, they already told them a crucial piece of information.