Chapter 31: Returning to the Snow Plains

On a windless morning, Wade pushed aside the stone and stepped outside the cave. 

Calling it morning wasn’t quite accurate, but Wade could only consider this time after waking up as morning. 

Having been cooped up in the small cave for eight full days without fresh air had been a stifling experience. Fortunately, he had tasks to occupy his free time, preventing boredom from driving him mad. 

He looked up at the moon, its crescent shape growing thinner as if someone had taken a huge bite out of it. 

Mia was flying over the sandy slope below, clearly restless from confinement too. 

Wade performed some stretches outside his cave entrance. Today he didn’t plan to travel far, just take a walk to change his mood. 

His main activities would involve playing games with Mia near the entrance, then standing on the hillside like a king surveying his territory. 

The storm hadn’t changed the environment much – this was already a godforsaken wasteland where sandstorms occurred daily. What difference could they make? 

The only noticeable change was that the occasional wandering skeletons had been blown away by the wind, leaving welcome peace and quiet. 

After inspecting his domain, Wade took out a thorn branch to practice swordplay. 

He had carved this thorn into a sword shape with hilt and blade, though much lighter than a real sword. But since it was just for practice, Wade used it to rehearse techniques. 

He played with Mia using this wooden sword – to the little ghost, it seemed like play. 

Mia used her floating ability to dodge the sword’s tip. 

Hitting her proved quite difficult – Mia had grown considerably since her birth, becoming faster and more agile. 

She had fully digested and absorbed Sven’s soul, finally achieving complete physical form while gaining a new ability: 

She could control her mist transformation, maintaining it as a normal state. 

As now, perhaps out of habit, she kept only her upper body solid while her lower half remained cloud-like. 

When the sword nearly struck her, parts of her body would sometimes disperse like mist before reforming elsewhere. 

Ethereal and elusive, she perfectly matched common ghostly stereotypes. 

Physical attacks indeed had little effect on phantoms. 

Unless a phantom consciously allowed contact, touching them proved nearly impossible. 

Swords and blunt weapons could hardly harm spirits – they were too insubstantial. What could a hammer do against a floating feather? 

Even when Wade’s sword connected during their play, Mia just giggled. 

She seemed unfazed no matter how hard he swung. 

But since this was just play, Wade deliberately softened his strikes. 

Thus the day passed uneventfully. 

He practiced swordplay, swept accumulated sand from the entrance, watered the glowing moss, then sat watching Mia flit around him. 

Sometimes he’d extend a hand to catch the little one, until unconsciously, it was time for dormancy. 

Time seemed to pass faster outside the cave than when confined inside. 

Regardless, dormancy called. 

Wade blocked the cave entrance with stone, reviewing the patterns carved on the ruler one last time – he’d memorized the runes from the shattered gem too. 

Not that his memory was exceptional – just that extreme boredom had made him study them repeatedly. 

Unfortunately, he couldn’t figure out how to activate that magical accessory. Since bringing it back, he’d never successfully triggered its protective barrier. 

Maybe it was broken, or perhaps only worked properly for mages. 

For safety, he wore the ring on his index finger, wondering if he could bring items into his “dreams.” 

Preparations complete, he lay on his shroud. 

Mia settled into her small bed, burrowing under covers with only her head exposed. 

“Goodnight.” 

Wade entered dormancy.

————

In the dream, he awoke again. 

He picked up the twenty-sided die – its heart now fully blood-red. 

Like a dried pond receiving light rain, the transparent door developed watery ripples. 

Mia didn’t automatically appear in his dreams unless summoned, otherwise she’d remain in normal dormancy. 

Before crossing the threshold, Wade pulled Mia in anyway. 

He worried about leaving her alone in the cave – if she woke before him, she might cause disruptions that could interrupt his dream. Better to bring her along. 

Besides, these snow plains were her homeland – she might want to revisit. 

Wade extended a hand, catching the little phantom flying toward him. 

Holding the die in his left hand, he stood before the door and rolled it outward. 

A strong heartbeat pulsed audibly. 

Wade stepped forward, crossing the threshold. 

Instantly, his feet met snow. 

A golden line appeared – dawn’s first light as the sun breached the horizon. 

Distant snow acquired golden veils while firs stood heavy with snowdrifts. White dominated the landscape as icy winds blew, causing sparrows to shake snow-laden branches. 

Looking back, Wade saw no trace of any door. 

He stood completely naked except for the small phantom in his hands and his bare bones. 

Apparently nothing could be brought across – only a new avatar arrived in the snow plains. 

He was gradually discerning the rules – unlike last time, he hadn’t appeared in that hunter’s cabin. 

Instead, he saw houses constructed of wood, stone and turf. 

Charred timber and building remains marked the Viking-raided village of Tania. 

He recognized this alley – where he’d sacrificed his left arm. 

To lure Sven, he’d detached his left arm to rig a corpse with a crossbow trap. 

No mistake – this was definitely that alley. 

But the pirate corpse was gone, all bloodstains and fire damage buried under snow. 

No human activity sounded through the village – no footsteps, no livestock. 

Apart from a jay preening gray-brown feathers on a rooftop, Wade detected no living creatures. 

Circling the village revealed the inhabitants had apparently left. 

Livestock, fodder and most portable items seemed taken along. 

Inside dwellings showed signs of organized packing. 

The villagers hadn’t fled hastily – they’d prepared thoroughly before migrating, likely considering the area unsafe after the Viking raid. 

Following their trail might lead to more prosperous settlements with better information access – perhaps seeking protection from local lords. 

He could attempt tracking them. 

But first, one crucial task remained. 

Wade approached the reservoir’s ruins – shattered beams and collapsed stones sunken downward. 

Explosion marks were evident – the Flame Imp’s final fireball had detonated this reservoir, collapsing the entire area. 

The villagers apparently lacked resources to excavate the rubble, showing no digging attempts. 

That extraordinary rune-inscribed straight sword must still lie buried in frozen earth below.