Third Person’s POV
This ti, a true alarm entered Arlene’s heart, and a cold unease spread through her chest as her aunt’s earlier warning resurfaced in her mory with renewed force.
The fears she had buried beneath battles, exhaustion, and confusion now rose again like sothing waking from beneath ice.
Trusting her aunt, Arlene replied through the sa secretive thod while keeping her expression calm and unchanged so that no one in the group would realize that another conversation was taking place in that very mont.
Her lips did not move, and her pace did not falter.
Only her thoughts carried sound.
’Do not worry, Mister. My aunt assured that her ice golem can defend us from any threat.’
The ssage was brief and steady, carrying the confidence expected of a princess, yet the mont she sent it, unease stirred inside her heart.
She had not spoken the complete truth.
Her aunt had indeed left the golem behind as protection, but she had also privately warned Arlene that the construct would not retain its current strength before they reached the city.
That ant the shield standing beside them was temporary i.e it was a protection with limits.
And now she had hidden that truth from the very man who had been sent to protect her.
Arlene felt worry spread quietly through her chest, but she knew she had little choice.
If her aunt had asked her to maintain secrecy from everyone, then there had to be a reason.
Even so, the burden of deception did not sit comfortably upon her mind.
anwhile, old man Caspian had long since recovered from his earlier display of weakness.
Though his outer appearance remained that of a tired elder trudging through snow and storm, inwardly, he had already grown calm and satisfied.
He sneered within his heart at both the young princess and the arrogant armored aura master.
One was noble and beautiful but inexperienced, and the other was strong but blind.
Neither of them understood that the true ga had already been played.
His task was complete, and now all that remained was to wait for the result.
...
At an unknown location far deeper within the Ghost Pine Woods, where the trees stood older, darker, and more tightly packed than elsewhere, a lone bonfire burned in a small clearing surrounded by towering snow clad conifers.
Its orange flas rose and dipped under the pressure of the wind, throwing shifting shadows across the trunks and over the snow-covered ground.
Around that fire sat three hooded figures.
Two of them wore robes of pure white with their hoods drawn low enough to conceal not only their faces but even the flow of their aura, making it difficult for any observer to judge their gender, age, or strength.
The third wore a dull dark green cloak whose color nearly blended with the forest itself.
An atmosphere of impatience hung over the clearing.
No one spoke, and no one moved unnecessarily, but a sense of hidden tension plagued the three.
Only the crackling of the fire and the distant moaning of the wind through the Ghost Pines filled the silence.
The firelight occasionally reached beneath their hoods, revealing fragnts of pale chins, still lips, and unmoving posture before shadows swallowed them again.
It was then that, without warning, one of the white-hooded figures suddenly trembled slightly.
The other two turned toward him at once.
In the next second, he reached into a storage ring and withdrew a blue scroll bound by silver thread.
He opened it swiftly across his knees.
"Is the tracker finally active?"
Seeing him open the blue scroll, a question ca from the second white-hooded figure in a stiff and restrained voice.
At the sa ti, the green-hooded figure rose and stepped closer, standing beside the seated man as all three looked down at the opened scroll.
The object was unusual.
It did not contain spell arrays, any potion formula, or inscribed runes like ordinary magical scrolls.
Instead, it resembled a living map.
Snowy mountains, frozen ridges, and dense forests had been drawn across its surface in extraordinary detail, almost like an aerial painting viewed from the sky.
The lines seed to shift faintly with subtle life at every second, but the most startling feature was not the landscape itself.
Across the painted forest floor, tiny glowing red footsteps had appeared.
They began from a hidden point within the woods and steadily advanced toward the outer edge of the forest, moving step by step as if an invisible traveler were walking across the parchnt.
Seeing those crimson tracks, the first white-hooded figure stood abruptly.
Joy and excitent could be seen in his movents.
And when he spoke again, the voice that erged from him was surprisingly young, carrying restrained eagerness beneath forced control.
"We move this instant."
The green-hooded figure bowed her head slightly before replying, and a mature woman’s voice flowed softly from beneath the hood.
"As you command, young lord."
The second white-hooded figure said nothing and rely nodded once.
Then, as the flas bent sideways beneath a sudden gust of wind, all three figures vanished from the clearing like ghostly specters swallowed by the depths of the Ghost Pine Woods.
The three figures moved like wandering spectres through the bewildering terrain of the Ghost Pine Woods, crossing the frozen wilderness with a speed and certainty that no ordinary travelers could have possessed.
Their movents carried none of the hesitation, caution, or confusion of people navigating an unfamiliar forest buried beneath mist, snow, and shifting shadows.
They did not pause to judge direction, and did not stop to study landmarks.
They did not waste ti choosing safer paths between ravines, roots, or ice-laden trees.
Instead, they advanced with smooth precision, as though the forest itself had already been asured beneath their feet long ago.
The reason for that certainty was the blue scroll held within the hands of the young, white-hooded figure.
Its surface glowed faintly beneath the pale light of the stormy sky filtering through the branches above, and the drawn map upon it shifted with subtle life as if it were a living thing.
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