Chapter 135: The Land Beyond the Mountains

Wade followed the dragonkin on a brief inspection tour of the cliffside harbor under her primary supervision. The construction work had largely progressed smoothly, with no further need for golem assistance.

Winter provisions and fuel were plentiful. Over the past month, the dragonkin had emptied the warehouses of various factions using reindeer-drawn sleighs, storing all the confiscated food from lawbreakers. The flour and wheat stores could feed over a thousand people for one or two years, while the combined population of ratfolk and catfolk numbered less than three hundred—more than sufficient supplies.

A month and a half had passed with no reappearance of demons or Icelanders. The climate gradually warmed, with daylight hours lengthening. Based on past experience, the icy sea would begin melting by late March. By early April, the sea surface would be covered with floating ice, and by May, most of it would thaw, leaving only the massive icebergs in northern waters.

With the harbor issue resolved, the remaining challenges were obtaining ships and capable crew members. Ships weren’t the main problem—several galleys used by the Lizardmen Faction for smuggling goods and slaves remained docked at their ports. Though currently inaccessible, these vessels sat undisturbed in remote corners, ready to be sailed to the cliff harbor once the ice melted.

The real difficulty lay in finding experienced sailors. None among the demi-humans had any nautical experience. Wade himself had never been aboard a ship. Only the dragonkin and some female catfolk from the Black Cat Society had crossed oceans aboard Lizardmen merchant ships—but as transported cargo, confined below deck throughout the journey. Beyond enduring prolonged seasickness, they knew nothing about sailing.

Wade faced another personal complication: he could only remain in the outside world for ten days at a time, always reappearing where he’d last vanished. If he spent ten days aboard a moving ship before disappearing, what would happen when he returned?

The answer was obvious. His dimensional-shifting ability wasn’t under his control. Both the shifting door and the weighing scale abilities differed from the combat techniques he’d mastered—they originated from the twenty-sided die housed in his mental space. The die granted him exploratory opportunities and miraculous abilities like the Miracle Card, all operating under fixed rules he couldn’t alter.

If he sailed beyond ten days, he’d inevitably reappear in open water. Picture it—a helpless skeleton adrift in endless ocean, waves battering him from all sides with no landmarks or footing. These rules prevented extended sea voyages. Every ten days, he’d need to anchor near shore. While unable to travel long distances by sea, ships could help bypass conflict zones and leave North Tia—which sufficed for his purposes.

Wade knew he lacked team leadership skills and had always planned to travel alone. Upon reaching calmer regions, his agreement with the dragonkin would conclude, and he’d continue overland. Their original bargain—made when freeing her from imprisonment—simply required escorting her to safety.

Two months remained before the ice melted—ample time to find suitable crew.

During Wade’s absences, Igna had made additional plans. In a private room illuminated by kerosene lamps, she unfurled a yellowed map marked with inked circles, dots, and handwritten Common Tongue annotations.

“Lord Wade, regarding crew recruitment, I’ve compiled some leads.” Igna tapped the map. “This shows Deer Blood Faction territory. Beyond Dragon’s Spine lie several impoverished nations—Leith being the nearest. Their coastal villages are marked here.”

“That land yields neither crops nor mineral resources. Most villagers survive by fishing—meaning experienced sailors likely live among them.”

Wade studied the outdated pre-war map while listening to the dragonkin’s briefing. Current conditions remained unknown—no reconnaissance had reached those distant villages. Even by sleigh, the round trip would take nearly half a month through winter’s deadly wilderness, where travelers risked freezing to death without shelter or supplies.

The greater obstacle was that no one knew the route. Even with maps, demi-humans would struggle with navigation. None would willingly undertake such perilous missions. The dragonkin had suggested coercing Jessia into leading an expedition by leveraging the “lich” persona, but Wade refused to force life-threatening tasks upon others.

He preferred going himself. Skeletons required no food, feared no cold, and needed no reindeer for the snow sled—Mia could simply animate bone-beasts. With harbor operations running smoothly, Wade had little to do but idle about. Better to gather intelligence abroad.

Taking the annotated map, Wade departed the harbor under cover of darkness aboard the sturdiest oak sleigh—the heaviest-duty model available, parked atop the cliffs. With rattling creaks, the skeletal beasts stood. Eight towering reindeer skeletons strained against upgraded harnesses—salvaged relics from Deer Blood outposts.

Beneath frigid winds and stormclouds, the sleigh carried Wade toward the towering mountain range. Beyond those peaks, war’s flames already burned.

Invading warships had reached those coasts. Like Tania, every minor nation had fallen victim—but unlike still-resisting Tania, these weaker kingdoms had surrendered to the Ice King within a month. Their rulers deemed resistance futile, kneeling before the Icelanders. Now those lands stood occupied.