“Thank you for the advice.”
“Then has this old man no advice to offer the young prince in return?”

At the prince’s nonchalant question, the old man furrowed his brow slightly before offering a gentle smile.

“Soon, we shall gather the wisdom of the elders. I only hope it will be of help to Your Highness.”

“Very satisfying.”

“Are you sure you won’t rest, even briefly? This time, I say this not to test you, but out of sincere concern.”

At the old man’s worried gaze, the prince responded with a smile.

“It’s not all that cold yet. You know as well as I do, old man, the true blizzard isn’t just a chilly wind like this.”
“…I do know.”
“Then forget this half-hearted protection. As I said … I need warriors to walk beside me, not shelters to hide in.”

The elder’s clear eyes turned to the sparse group surrounding the prince. Those who had been fussing over the cold straightened themselves with forced composure, clearing their throats awkwardly.
Alfred, the only one who had observed the entire exchange without outburst, politely asked , 

“What are your orders, Your Highness? Shall we head to the mansion? I’ll clear a path.”

“No. We’ll have dinner atop the northern wall. Summon the mages, knights, and all remaining administrators. I’ll clear the path myself.”

At his command, the heat within his heart surged outward, pushing back the biting wind. The flames blossomed brightly, casting back the cold currents.
From head to toe, dazzling crimson flames wrapped around him, melting the blizzard where it swirled.

Andre, Sol, and Sofia, who had been shivering moments ago, found warmth and calm in the heat of the red flame.

“The old man looks cold. Aren’t you shivering?”
“Your Highness… That fire, what on earth…!”

Though the flame only turned the elder’s face a deep red, it wasn’t the cold that made his body tremble. 

All around, faces peered out from nearby homes, their expressions frozen in astonishment.

Snow that hadn’t yet touched his body melted before reaching him.
Without further reply, the prince walked onward.
The path of melted snow left in his wake, where fire had wholly extinguished the storm’s grasp, said more than any words could.

[The fate of the target , Master of the Swift Blade, veteran of many battles, an old soldier and guide , is awed by your destiny and drawn toward it.]
[The target’s fate , weary contemplation, prolonged reflection , has been devoured by decisive action. You gain a large number of Destiny Shift Points!]
[The Mystery of Flame stirs a long-buried passion deep within the target. The fate of the northern veterans twists.]

Even as the heavy gaze clung to the back of his head, he didn’t look back. He didn’t need to see the old man’s face to know, destiny had already told him.

The North had many hermits. Veterans forged through endless battles and long, snowy nights. Mages who lived by their own unique laws.
Upon seeing the elder, he recognized the type … 

He needed them … But his pride would not allow him to follow, he would draw them in. To reach beyond their rigid old thoughts, to the primal instincts and long-dead passions buried deep.

Since childhood, they had grown up around the mystical campfire. That made them vulnerable to its power.

Fortunately … 

[Lesser Fate: Bewitchment – Flame begins to seep into the North.]
[The fate of hidden hermits beneath the permafrost stirs. The old soldier incites them.]

His appearance and the fire he bore were perfectly tailored to northern tastes.
Hair of golden-white, like the endless snowy plains. Flames like the campfires they huddled around for generations.
How could they not be drawn in by a prince who mirrored the North itself?

Even he thought he would have fallen for himself.

“Being handsome and impressive really is the best.”

Step by step, the snow melted gladly beneath his burning feet.

The North was protected by two great walls.

The first, seen on clear days, was the towering mountain range. The northerners called it “The Cloak” for shielding them from the cold, though its proper name was “The End of the Continent Range.”  Beyond it lay only lifeless wastelands where no one could survive.

The high peaks blocked fierce winds and blizzards. But they also funneled many monsters toward the North. That was why the second wall existed, “the Northern Wall.”
It was a shield against incoming monsters, yetis, and occasionally insurgent tundra tribes who sought to steal the fire.

And atop that precious and mighty barrier … 

“Bring more wine. The meat cools too quickly. The cold bites deep, warm the dishes.”

A mad prince’s feast was underway, with mages and knights stationed nearby.
On the massive, solid wall, the smell of rustic bread and spicy meat stew wafted in unnatural contrast to the cold. Surrounding him were the heads of the mage corps, the knight commander, and the highest-ranking of the remaining administrators.
Nearby… 

“Hey, draw up some mana. At this rate, we’ll freeze solid.”
“Let’s rotate shifts. At least the bread and soup weren’t bad.”
“Still eating?”
“Yeah, he’s still enjoying it.”
“Damn it, we’re gonna freeze to death.”
“What can we do? Didn’t you see Prince Aziel swinging that bottle earlier? If you don’t want to die, just quietly eat.”

The Bluewing Knights, the magic combat unit, and northern soldiers all stood guard, shivering yet staying close.
Grumblings bubbled up now and then, but after what they had witnessed earlier, none dared voice real complaints.
The soldiers, having been unintentionally shielded by the mages’ defensive magic, considered themselves lucky.

Though the sight of a banquet on the wall irked them, no one dared speak against the prince.

“So, how’s the northern cold treating you, commanders?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Quite manageable.”

“That won’t be the case for long. Look.”

The prince turned the commanders’ and administrators’ eyes toward the northern horizon. Amid the blowing snowstorm, lines of soldiers stood firm, guarding the expanse beyond.

“Hey! At what threat level are the soldiers usually pulled inside?”

“Normally, they’re called in starting from level 3.”

“Is that so? Then I’m not the reason they’re still out there.”

“…No, not at all.”

“Eating under protection has a certain flavor. Let them keep watch.”

Waving his hand dismissively, he turned back to his meal, biting into a thick piece of meat as he scanned the faces at the table.

“We live this comfortably thanks to their sacrifice. Their efforts let us enjoy this warm meal, don’t they?”

It was true, but did they really have to eat here?

The question rose to the edge of their tongues, but remembering how he had shattered heads earlier, they all held their silence.

“What do you think would happen if the Northern Wall disappeared?”

At the casually tossed question, everyone squinted. As though it were nothing, the prince sipped wine and tore a piece of bread to chew.

One of the administrators spoke first … 

“The bonfires would be destroyed.”
“And then?”

The mage commander responded.

 “We would lose the Mysteries, and the northern people their homes.”
“And?”

The knight commander followed.

“All of the North would fall into chaos. Possibly even the central region could be affected.”

“No. You’re all wrong. That wouldn’t even begin to cover it.”

Though his words matched common opinion, the prince shook his head firmly.       His platinum hair whipped violently in the northern wind. His crimson eyes glowed darkly, sending a chill through the table.

“The entire Empire would fall into disarray. This wouldn’t stop in the North. The eastern front, the capital, the south, the west, every corner would suffer.”

His voice was so resolute, it drew grim expressions from all present.

It wasn’t an incorrect prediction, but that far-reaching?

Even if a crisis arose in the North, many knights and troops were stationed to handle such threats.

And then … 

“Correct.”

A man approached from the northern wall, stepping toward the prince. It was the man who had stood beside the Count earlier that day.

“The Snowwhite Knight Commander, was it?”

“An honor to meet Your Highness. I am Garon, commander of the Snowwhite Knights.”

“Then, do you have time to explain why I’m right?”

At the prince’s question, the man made a troubled face and shook his head.

“I’m afraid that will have to wait until our next meal.”

“Are the yetis coming?”

“…Yes. How did you know?”

“How could I not? The stink is unmistakable.”

Did he truly smell the yetis through the raging blizzard?

Garon’s expression twisted in surprise.Glancing around, he noticed something strange about the prince’s dinner location. Of all places, he had chosen the part of the northern wall closest to the ground.
The scent of meat and wine was laid out in the open, an irresistible lure to the sensitive noses of the yeti. Surrounding the table were not only knights but powerful mages as well.

A perfect trap.
A baited fortress, ready for defense.

Before he could ask further, a distorted howl cut through the icy wind.
Faint shapes shimmered through the snow … Their numbers grew.

Then, monsters covered in thick white fur broke through the blizzard.                       At that moment, the prince’s body ignited with flame.
On the wide expanse of the northern wall, the fire blazed brilliantly. 

The yetis, as if bewitched, charged headlong toward the flames.

And from above … 

“Fire!”

A harsh mental echo struck every mind present.

“Yes! Fire! The thing you crave so badly!”

With a wicked red grin, the prince drew his massive sword.

“Waaaargh!”
“Grrraaaaagh!”

The cry of the Breaker and the howls of the yetis collided violently.