THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

The tension in the small room thickened as Ced leaned back in the creaky chair, his grin unwavering. "Relax, Winter," Ced began, his voice rough and laced with a peculiar charm. "This ain't no small decision. I'm not sayin' you can't handle it, but it's best to chew it over carefully. Even for a potter like yourself, this won't be easy."

David's eyes narrowed. "I've already made up my mind." His voice was steady, determined.

Ced chuckled, leaning forward. "Good, lad. Glad you've made yer peace with it, then. Payment's simple—half of what we get after selling the remains of the Devil."

David squinted, suspicion creeping into his gaze. "And what makes you so sure there'll even be remains left to sell?"

Ced noticed the doubt and waved it off with a hearty laugh. "Don't fret about that, boy. I may look like a fool, but I'm not walkin' north with just anyone. Yer the only crazy soul brave enough to join me on this venture."

David sighed, his mind already spinning with the implications. "When do we leave?"

Ced's grin widened. "Now."

David blinked, taken aback. "Now? Just like that?"

"Aye, lad," Ced said, slapping his knees as he stood up. "I've been ready for days. Don't worry about provisions—I've got it all sorted."

David glanced toward the wall where an old, dust-covered coat hung. He pulled it down, shaking it out before slipping it on. The fabric was rough and smelled faintly of damp straw, but it would suffice. He brushed off the remaining dust and squared his shoulders. "Fine. Let's go."

The two descended the stairs to the reception area, where a line of customers waited, their faces twisted in frustration. One of them shouted, "Winter! We've been waitin' too long! You think you can keep us from our candles? You want to die, boy?"

David's body tensed, his hand gripping the stair rail tightly. Then, his ears caught a familiar voice from the back of the room—the man who had hurt Brendah in the previous timeline. The memory flashed in his mind like lightning, and his body grew cold, a quiet fury beginning to boil within him.

Before he could react, Ced's gruff voice called from the door. "Oi! Best we keep a move on before the blizzard rolls in, Winter."

David hesitated, but Ced's words grounded him. Killing the man now would risk triggering the system's accursed special quest, and he couldn't afford another failure. With a deep breath, he pushed down the rage and followed Ced out into the cold.

The air outside bit at his skin as they left the village behind. David glanced back once, watching the small buildings shrink into the snowy haze.

Ced handed him a pair of spare gloves and a medium pack. "Here. This'll keep ya warm, and this'll keep ya alive."

David took them, adjusting the pack on his shoulders as he noticed Ced strapping on a rusty old sword. "That thing looks like it couldn't cut through butter. You sure it's gonna kill a Devil?"

Ced smirked, patting the hilt. "Ah, don't worry, lad. I've got somethin' up my sleeve for when we meet the beast."

David shook his head, exhaling into the frosty air as they pressed on. The snow crunched beneath their boots, the village disappearing entirely as the wilderness swallowed them whole.

****

The biting wind whipped against their faces as David and Ced trudged through the endless expanse of snow. Each step up the steep, snow-laden hills was a battle, their boots sinking deep, threatening to throw them off balance. They leaned on each other for support, gripping one another's arms as they skirted the edges of icy cliffs that loomed over sheer drops into oblivion. The northern journey stretched on, and the days blurred into a frostbitten haze.

Now, after a week of relentless trekking, they sat inside a makeshift tent, the wind howling outside. Ced struck flint against steel, coaxing a flame to life amidst the kindling David had gathered. The fire flickered and grew, casting long, dancing shadows on the tent walls. Ced placed a battered pot over the fire, the aroma of stew wafting as he stirred. Explore stories on My Virtual Library Empire

"We're close now, lad," Ced muttered, his voice low and rough. "Another day or so, and we'll be there."

David sat cross-legged by the fire, basking in its warmth. The heat seeped into his chilled skin, the tension in his shoulders easing. He glanced at Ced, who was staring into the bubbling stew.

Ced broke the silence, his eyes glinting in the firelight. "Winter," he began, using the name David had adopted. "I've been meanin' to ask... How'd you learn to fight like that? The way you moved when those wolves attacked us—it's somethin' I've never seen."

David's mind flickered back to the ambush. The wolves had been relentless, their howls echoing through the frozen forest. He had moved on instinct, his blade, lent by Ced, striking true as he danced between their lunges. He shrugged, keeping his gaze on the fire. "I've always known how to fight," he said evasively. "I just keep to myself, that's all."

He quickly deflected. "What about you, Ced? Why are you so obsessed with the Snow Devil?"

The air in the tent shifted. Ced's jovial demeanor evaporated, replaced by a cold, simmering anger. His hand tightened on the ladle, and his eyes burned with something primal. David opened his mouth to apologize, sensing he had touched a nerve, but Ced waved him off.

"My son," Ced began, his voice strained but steady. "He was a curious boy. Too curious for his own good. One day, he ran off, said he wanted to see the outside world. I thought... I thought he'd be back." Ced's shoulders slumped, his eyes fixed on the stew as though it held all the answers.

"It was months before I heard from him. Then, one night, a carrier bird flew through my window with a letter tied to its leg. Bloodstains on the parchment." Ced's voice cracked, and he took a deep breath. "It was a farewell. My boy... He told me not to look for him. He said the Snow Devil was real."

David's chest tightened. "I'm... sorry, Ced."

Ced shook his head. "Don't be. That's why I'm here. To find it. To finish what my boy couldn't."

"How do you even know where to find it?" David asked, curious despite himself.

Ced tilted his head upward. "Because of them."

David followed Ced's gaze, squinting through the smoke and firelight. Above the tent, a bird circled lazily, its wings outstretched against the twilight.

David's eyes widened. "You've been following the carrier bird's flight path?"

Ced smirked. "Aye. Smart, aren't I?"

David couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration for the old man's resourcefulness.

"Get some sleep, Winter," Ced said, his tone softening as he ladled stew into their bowls. "The rest of the journey won't be kind."

David nodded, lying back as the warmth of the fire lulled him. But even as his body rested, his mind churned, replaying Ced's story and the promise of the perilous road ahead.