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Urich and his party arrived at a border that could be considered the north. The density of the crop fields noticeably decreased, and coniferous trees were densely packed. Occasionally, northerners with fierce eyes glared at Urich's group as they passed by.
"It's so cold. Goddammit.”
The warriors grumbled as they tightened their fur cloaks. The damp and chilly climate of the north was unfamiliar to the warriors from the west. Even though it wasn't a land with high elevation, the cold seeped all the way into their lungs.
"It's only going to get colder."
Urich looked at the cloud-covered mountains of the north.
"Hoo."
The sound of breathing grew heavier. The cold north had a strange charm. Around the graves adorned with rusty weapons, there seemed to linger the loneliness of the late warriors.
"There are tons of graves."
"It's a custom here to bury the dead warriors with their weapons."
Urich passed by the village cemetery. The rust on the weapons roughly indicated the time of the grave owners' deaths.
'A lot of these warriors died recently.'
Urich surveyed the small village. It was a typical village on the northern border, where Solarism and northern beliefs were intertwined. Some prayed at the Sun Temple, while others sharpened and polished their blades for Ulgaro.
"We'd better leave soon. They are wary of outsiders."
Georg felt the stares of the...
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