The stone walls of Qasr al-Shita—the "Winter Palace"—formerly Frost-Heave Estate, were three feet thick, built from the same grey, unyielding limestone that formed the Zemlyost ridges. For centuries, these walls had stood as a silent bulwark against the scouring winds of the North, but inside, the atmosphere was a deliberate, almost defiant, rejection of the cold.

  As the group crossed the threshold, the transition was jarring. The freezing, sulfur-tainted air of the ridges was replaced by a wave of warmth that smelled of cedarwood, roasted fat, and a complex array of spices that felt entirely alien to this frozen land. The Grand Hall was a cathedral of firelight. Massive iron braziers lined the walls, their coals glowing a deep, pulsing orange that cast long, flickering shadows against the indigo Al-Zahran silk tapestries.

  Hamad and Ramia moved through the hall not as refugees, but as masters of their domain. The trauma of the Abyss was still etched in the hollows of their eyes, but the presence of their children—Muni and Suda, wrapped in thick furs and safe—seemed to act as a restorative tonic.

  The banquet table was a sprawling landscape of oak and gold. Servants moved with practiced, silent efficiency, laying out platters of spiced lamb roasted with apricots, bowls of fragrant saffron rice, and pitchers of heavy northern ale alongside delicate porcelain cups of mint tea.

  Azuma sat to Hamad’s right. He felt the weight of his black-hilted blade leaning against his chair—a constant, cold reminder of the world outside this pocket of warmth. Anneliese sat beside him, her presence a quiet anchor. Across from them, Caelum looked like a bear squeezed into a dollhouse chair, his massive frame dwarfing the furniture. Elowen sat to his left, her eyes bright as she watched the steam rise from her bowl.

  The laughter began almost immediately, a natural release of the life-and-death tension they had carried for a day.

  "I’m just saying," Elowen said, gesturing with a piece of honey-glazed flatbread toward Caelum’s plate. "For a 'Mountain of Norveg,' you’re awfully picky about your greens. It’s a leaf, Caelum. It won't bite you back."

  Caelum let out a low, gravelly huff, shielding his plate with a hand the size of a dinner tray. "Leaves are for goats and people who can’t swing a hammer, little sister. I need meat. Real strength comes from things that had a heartbeat. You can't build muscle on salad and sunshine."

  "And real brain power comes from things that grow in the sun," Elowen shot back with a delighted wink, her voice carrying across the hall. "Which explains why you’re still trying to figure out which fork is for the salad and which one is for the mutton."

  The table erupted in genuine laughter. Muni laughed the loudest, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and admiration. To see a legendary warrior—a man who had escorted him out of a monster’s larder—being so easily handled by a petite herbalist was a revelation. It made their "Clan" feel less like a military unit and more like a family.

  Hamad raised a golden chalice, his expression turning solemn as the laughter died down. The firelight reflected in the dark wine as he looked at Azuma.

  "A toast," Hamad declared, his voice regaining the resonance of a Duke. "To Clan Azuma. You found us in the dark when the world had already written us off as ghosts. You brought my children back to the sun. My house is your house. My steel is yours. My life is a debt I can never fully repay."

  "We did what what we could, Lord Hamad," Azuma replied, his voice calm, yet it held a weight that silenced the room.

  Hamad leaned back, his curiosity finally surfacing after a day of observation. "I must ask, Lord Azuma... I can see you are not from the Western Kingdoms. Your speech, your sword, your discipline... perhaps you are from the mysterious Eastern Continent? The lands beyond the Great Divide?"

  Azuma took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea, the mint cooling his throat. He nodded once. "I am."

  "I see," Hamad breathed, leanng forward. "Our kingdom has always been curious about the East. We’ve heard legends—tales of warriors whose blades can cut the wind itself. I once planned a trek to head that way myself in my youth. But we had reports of several kingdoms sending envoys, mercenaries, and even merchant guilds to the East... and none have ever returned. The maps simply end in a blank white space."

  Azuma’s gaze drifted to the hearth. He thought of the "Black Ships," the isolationist fire of the Bakumatsu Period in Japan's history, and the cold, unyielding walls of the Shimizu compound back on Earth. He knew nothing of this world's Eastern lands, but he knew the heart of isolationism.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  "The Eastern kingdoms fear that allowing Westerners in would lead to a loss of sovereignty and potential colonization," Azuma said, his tone shifting into the clinical register of a scholar. "They see Westerners not as guests, but as possible invaders. To them, an open door is an invitation to be colonized. They protect their borders with a silence that is absolute. Most of the population wants nothing to do with 'Barbarians'."

  Hamad nodded slowly, mesmerized by the explanation. "I see. But you are different, no? You must be the only Easterner to ever set foot on the Western Continent, at least according to our histories."

  "I... no longer consider the East my homeland," Azuma said. A shadow crossed his face, one that made Anneliese reach out and grip his hand under the table. "In the East, I once belonged to Clan Shimizu. I was always loyal to my house until a... disagreement occurred. I left my homeland and traveled here."

  The hall went deathly silent. Even the servants paused.

  "I wish to distance myself from that former life." Azuma finished, his eyes meeting Hamad's. "From a house that I no longer wish to be connected to."

  Hamad’s face went pale. "I... I apologize, Lord Azuma for bringing up a past you no longer wish to remember..."

  "No apologies needed," Azuma said, feeling Anneliese's fingers tighten around his. "My home is here now. With my wife, my sister, and my clan brothers."

  Anneliese smiled, a fierce, protective glow in her eyes. Elowen beamed, knowing that she finally has a real family now. Caelum nodded in solemn agreement. Beside him, Kaien felt a surge of pride. He realized that in the eyes of Laurentia, he was no longer a peasant boy with a glitch; he was a young "Noble" of an Eastern House. The mystery of the East was Azuma's greatest armor.

  Hamad nodded. He then looked down the table at his daughter, Suda, and Kaien. The two were laughing, Suda’s hand resting briefly on Kaien’s sleeve as she leaned in to tell a joke. Hamad turned to his wife, Ramia, who offered a knowing, joyful smile.

  "Lord Kaien," Hamad said suddenly.

  Kaien jumped, nearly dropping his fork. "Your Grace?"

  "My daughter tells me that you personally saved her from those... blind creatures," Hamad said, his voice carrying the weight of a decree. "That you remained by her side until reaching safety. Is this true?"

  "Yes, Your Grace," Kaien replied, his face turning a vivid shade of red. Suda added, "Father, he was the—"

  Hamad raised a hand. "I do not doubt it. I just have a question. Are you perhaps already betrothed?"

  Kaien gulped, his face now matching the crimson of the carpets. "Uh... no, Your Grace."

  "Well then," Hamad said, looking at Ramia. "I don't see why you and my daughter should not be engaged for marriage. It would solidify the bond between our Houses."

  "FATHER!" Suda screamed, her face erupting in a blush. "You can't just say things like that at dinner!"

  "Why not?" Hamad asked. "Ramia, dear, do you see this as well?"

  Ramia laughed softly. "Yes. I saw it the moment they returned. I believe they will make a wonderful husband and wife. Oh, imagine our grandchildren!"

  "MOTHER!" Suda was now hiding her face.

  Hamad looked at Azuma. "Lord Azuma, Lady Anneliese. I hope I have not offended you with my proposal."

  Azuma nodded slowly. "No. My younger brother is free to choose whatever life he wishes. It's his choice what path to decide."

  Anneliese smiled at Kaien, who managed a small, stunned nod of agreement. Caelum was the first to break the tension with a roar of laughter. "HA! The little pipsqueak is going to get married now?!"

  "Brother, stop!" Kaien yelled, though he couldn't hide his own embarrassment.

  "Awww," Elowen teased while messing with his hair. "My little brother is growing up so fast!"

  Amidst the laughter, Muni stood up. He walked to the center of the hall and bowed to his father. "Father, I wish to be a great warrior like Lord Caelum. I want to learn the strength that holds back the dark. I felt helpless the other day. I do not wish to ever feel like that again. When the blind ones attacked us on the road, I could not protect you, Mother, or Suda. I wish to become strong enough to protect this family."

  Caelum looked at the boy with genuine confusion. "Lord? Kid, I’m just a guy with a sword and a shield."

  "Have you spoken to Sir Caelum about this?" Hamad asked his son.

  "No, Father. I wanted your permission first."

  Hamad looked at Ramia. "Your mother and I have always known your ambition. You were never interested in the life of a politician of trader. You always wanted to be a part of our kingdom's Sword Singers. What do you think, darling?"

  "It seems our son has chosen a different path as we have always known. I believe it is time for our son to choose his own path in life." Ramia replied. "Sir Caelum, will you accept my son as your disciple?"

  Caelum looked at Muni, his expression turning serious. "Kid, you sure? I will not go easy on you. Training with me means broken ribs and no sleep."

  "Yes, Sir Caelum," Muni said firmly. "I truly wish to learn and become a warrior that is able to protect those I love."

  Caelum slapped Muni’s back, nearly sending the boy sprawling. "Well then! I hope you like mead, because we'll be drinking a lot of it, kid!"

  The hall was filled with joy and happiness. But as Azuma watched them, he felt the memory of the System's Avatar pulse like a cold, bright light in his mind.

  It had told him about variables and threats to the system—threats that wished to usurp its power, actions that will cause total system collapse. A cascade failure which threatens to erase this entire world from existence, threaten to erase Anneliese and Elowen. Azuma is no hero, but he will do everything he can to prevent losing those that he loves.

  Azuma looked into the hearth. He wasn't just a husband or a brother, he was the "Debugger" for a deteriorating infrastructure tasked with maintaining Laurentia's baseline subsistence. As the laughter of his new family filled the hall, he knew the clock was ticking down to zero. He took a sip of wine from the glass Anneliese had offered him and glanced at her for a second. In his head, he promised her that he will stop whatever threatens her safety, by whatever means necessary.