Their journey continued until midday, when they stopped at a large cave to rest. The air outside was biting cold, but inside, a dozen fires burned bright, warming the stone walls with flickering light. The smell of roasted meat and hot soup filled the cavern, a comfort against the winter air.

  “Hey,” Roy said suddenly, his tone carrying that mischievous edge that always preceded one of his stories. “I heard something interesting last night from the villagers.”

  The group looked up from their food. They sat on a long wooden log serving as a bench, bowls of steaming soup in hand. Rin tilted her head. “What is it this time?”

  Roy leaned in, lowering his voice. “Apparently, there was once a hero guarding that village. Long ago. She died, but no one remembers her name. They say she wore the old kingdom’s armor and loved to stroll around the outskirts at night.”

  He paused for effect, his grin widening. “And guess what? Some students claimed they saw her last night. Floating past their windows. They didn’t even know the legend until this morning.”

  Andel rolled his eyes. “I doubt that. I got up to pee last night. Didn’t see a single ghost hovering about.”

  Roy only smirked. “You probably weren’t looking.”

  Kana froze mid-bite, her chopsticks trembling slightly. “I… I think I saw something,” she said softly. “Last night. Outside the window. A woman in armor. It shimmered under the moonlight, like it was made of glass. Thought it was just my imagination…”

  The group fell silent.

  Rin swallowed hard, her eyes darting to the cave’s dark entrance. Suri forced a laugh that didn’t sound convincing. “You’re just teasing us again, right?”

  But Kana’s face stayed pale.

  Yuri shifted closer to the fire. “Is that why our room suddenly felt colder? I thought it was just the wind.”

  Zia, who had been quietly eating beside them, chuckled under her breath. “Only those with certain skills can perceive her. Presence-based abilities — like [Scout], [Rogue], or [Ranger] like Kana classes.” Her golden eyes glimmered in the firelight. “For most, she’s nothing but a chill in the air.”

  Boris nearly dropped his bowl. “So you mean… ghosts are real?”

  Zia’s smile widened — slow, knowing, a little too amused. “Oh, Boris,” she said softly. “You’ve met monsters, seen mana beasts, and you still doubt the regret of the dead?”

  The fire crackled. For a moment, no one said a word. Even the cave seemed to breathe slower.

  ….

  It was a cold afternoon when the caravan finally halted for a brief rest. The wind carried the sharp bite of winter, but after hours in the wagons, even the frigid air felt refreshing. Most students stepped down to stretch their stiff limbs.

  Kana’s group joined them, all equally weary from Zia’s so-called ancient breathing practice.

  “I swear,” Suri groaned, rubbing her temples, “if I have to inhale the essence of the wind one more time, I might start breathing out curses instead.”

  Rin suddenly pointed ahead. “What’s that?”

  Not far from the resting site, a cluster of brightly colored wagons had set up near the road — banners fluttering, their paint fresh and inviting.

  “They’re peddlers,” Suri said, perking up.

  “Smart move,” Yuri added. “They probably heard a group of bored students were passing through.”

  “Let’s take a look!” Rin said before anyone could object, already skipping toward the caravan.

  The others followed, curiosity outweighing exhaustion. The peddlers’ wagons were packed with color and life — shelves stacked with books, exotic trinkets, wind-up toys that spun in the cold air, and even racks of polished weapons that gleamed under the pale sun. The scent of roasted nuts and dried fruits drifted through the crowd.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Kana and Rin stopped at a small stall with a display of books bound in unfamiliar scripts. “These are from outside the kingdom,” Rin whispered, eyes wide. Kana smiled, flipping through one — a tale about an explorer who claimed to chart the edge of the world.

  Meanwhile, Yuri and Suri found themselves before a stand selling sweet bread and candied berries. Zia, appearing as if from thin air once again, was already munching on something.

  “Do you even pay for those?” Suri asked suspiciously.

  Zia grinned, crumbs at the corner of her mouth. “I paid them generously.”

  Other students soon crowded around the wagons, laughter and chatter mixing with the sound of haggling coins. Kana caught sight of familiar faces — student council members in their crisp uniforms, and Valdis among them, who, as always, couldn’t resist snorting when his eyes met hers.

  ….

  A few weeks passed in a blur of repetition. Every other night they stopped at villages that had already prepared for their arrival — fires blazing, bread baked, and beds barely enough for the number of students flooding in. The first few nights were chaos: sleepless faces, complaints about the cold, and snores echoing through tents. But soon even the softest nobles learned to sleep like stones beneath thin blankets and colder stars.

  Kana’s group found the month-long trip strangely short. Perhaps it was because of Zia’s ancient breathing exercise — the art of erasing the self, as she called it. None of them knew if they were improving. Zia offered no praise nor correction, only her cryptic smile.

  “You’ll know when the Text of God recognizes you,” she’d said once, eyes glinting with the firelight. “Not before.”

  And so they practiced each day, breathing through frost, through snow, through boredom and aching lungs.

  Then, exactly one month after their departure, a shout rang out from the lead wagon.

  “Look! The fortress!”

  The endless white of the northern plains broke apart, revealing a colossal wall — thick and ancient, built like the spine of a mountain. It rose higher than the capital’s walls, its black stone rimed with frost. Beyond it, smoke curled from chimneys, and banners of dark blue fluttered in the wind.

  The students leaned from their wagons, wide-eyed. The wind hit harder here, a biting cold that clawed through every layer of clothing.

  “So this is the North…” Rin whispered, her breath turning to mist.

  The fortress was alive. Soldiers marched through wide, snow-dusted streets. Blacksmiths hammered metal beside roaring furnaces. The people were taller, broader, with pale skin and weathered faces. To Kana, they looked carved from the same stone as the fortress itself.

  A man awaited them before the gate — tall, grey-haired, his armor darkened by countless winters. A massive spear rested against his back, gleaming faintly with runes. Boris’s eyes lit up instantly.

  “That’s—”

  “I welcome you to the North,” the man’s voice boomed, carrying across the crowd like thunder. “Our future heroes.”

  He paused, letting his gaze sweep across the students before smiling faintly. “I am Lord Kavel Ruin. Class—something similar to [Spearman], though I doubt titles matter much where I stand.”

  A wave of murmurs rippled through the gathered students. They knew his name — the Lord Kavel Ruin, the Duke of the Northern Wall, the man who once held back an entire monster horde by himself.

  Zia chuckled quietly from the side, her breath misting in the cold. “Ah, little Kavel. He was a child when I last saw him. Humans really do wilt quickly.”

  “...What?” Boris blinked, his jaw slightly open. Kana, Rin, and Suri could only stare at her in stunned silence.

  Wor-en cleared his throat and gathered the students into groups. The professors guided them through the heavy gate and into the heart of the fortress, where temporary lodgings awaited — simple, sturdy wooden houses built against the inner walls.

  The sound of the gates closing behind them echoed through the cold. The North had accepted them.

  And somewhere beyond those walls, the real trial waited.

  …..

  It was late afternoon when they finally arrived at the northern fortress. The wind howled between the high stone walls, carrying with it the bite of snow and steel. Each group was assigned a sturdy two-story house — simple, wooden, and built to endure the cold.

  Students carried their gear from the wagons, their breaths misting in the air as they hurried toward their designated homes. Boots thudded against frozen ground, muffled by layers of snow.

  Rin, Yuri, and Suri stumbled inside first, dropping their packs with identical groans.

  “Finally!” Rin gasped, collapsing into the nearest chair. “A roof. A real roof.”

  “Since we arrived earlier than expected,” Wor-en announced from the doorway, his voice echoing slightly in the small space, “you’ll rest for the remainder of the day. We begin our expedition tomorrow morning. Later this evening, I’ll brief everyone on our objective and what we aim to accomplish.”

  “Yess…” came the tired, half-hearted chorus from the students.

  Kana smiled faintly. The exhaustion was thick in the air — a mix of relief and weariness after a month of constant travel.

  Wor-en turned toward Zia, who was standing near the window, her golden eyes glinting in the dim light. The two exchanged quiet words — discussions about the academy’s schedule, the routes they would take beyond the fortress, and perhaps unspoken concerns about what awaited them in the far north.

  Outside, the sky was already dimming. The last rays of sunlight slipped behind the distant white peaks, and the fortress lights began to flicker to life — a warm glow against the endless winter of the north.