Rangers Endgame

Chapter 139: Frostmarrow Mountains

Yakeru considered calling out to Fuyumi to slow down, but it would be like talking to a wall. The bloodhounds’ aftermath at the kobold dungeon flickered through his head. She was just as tunnel-visioned back then. Nostalgia wisped through him as related moments of Yama Village flocked. They seemed like ancient memories now.

The air grew thinner as they set out on the rocky path, the sheen of white blanketing the formation’s sheer magnitude becoming more prominent. Their path wound its way upwards, trading soil for shale, then shale for wind-scraped stone. The temperature plunged with every gap they crossed and obstacle they overcame.

The whistling winds stole the puffs of transparent breath with each exhale as they crossed a threshold. Yakeru’s conditioned body complained under the accumulated hours of fatigue. Risa and her party were worse off, lagging behind and heaving for air.

He watched Fuyumi’s back, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care, her steps apathetically resolute. He picked up his pace until he was trudging by her side.

“We’ll turn off at that alcove.” He pointed with his chin to an upcoming eroded cliff face about fifty meters to their right. “Take a breather.”

The only show of acknowledgment she offered was the quick flick of her eyes to the right, but otherwise didn’t slow her pace for anyone.

He narrowed his eyes, and his voice turned unforgivingly stern. “Fuyumi.”

She gave a sharp sigh through her nose, but she turned off the path. “Fine.”

He gestured for the others to follow, and they happily obliged.

It was hardly a shelter, but the shallow bite in the stone was enough to dull the wind and hold the retreating warmth of daylight. Yuto plopped next to Takahiro and unpacked his provisions. He took out chunks of dried meat, hesitating for a second before crunching down on them, visibly forcing himself to ignore the likely stale taste. Takahiro pulled out a box and opened the lid to reveal a more balanced meal of meat, veggies, and a bread roll presented as a dish.

“A welcome moment of respite,” Takahiro breathed as he took measured bites.

Risa dusted snow off a flat rock that was lighter than usual and sat gracefully, sifting through her satchel that resembled more of a purse. She materialized a bundle of durable paper and unwrapped it to reveal a palette of small fruits, humming to herself as she popped one in her mouth, her face melting in delight.

Fuyumi ate by her lonesome at the far edge, where the cutting air fell in. She barely touched her rations, keeping a watchful eye through the dancing specks of winter. Yakeru gave her space and sat against the cold stone arching over them. He bit into the bread he’d brought, the drop in temperature stripping its flavor and hardening its texture.

He paced himself, teeth aching with each bite, as he pretended not to notice the glances Risa gave him.

“So, have you two been out this way before?” She eventually asked, the end of her gaudy coat parting as she crossed a leg over the other.

Fuyumi deliberately angled her head away, leaving the question to land in Yakeru’s lap.

“No,” he answered flatly, taking another bite of his bread, hoping to stall any more questions.

“Neither have we,” she admitted with a sweet chuckle. “But that's the beauty of the unknown. From my experience, it tends to be more fun when the land is foreign to everyone. Even more so when you hunt exotic monsters you've never seen. Like bloodhounds.”

A muscle twitched in Fuyumi's neck, but otherwise stayed silent. Yakeru’s chewing paused. He'd only encountered one bloodhound in his career, but that was more than enough to understand their nature. If she'd seen that sadistic smile that split its maw, she wouldn't speak of them so casually.

“There’s a reason we call them monsters, Risa.” The ghostly air wisping from his mouth mirrored his frigid tone.

“Yes, I’m well aware. Which is why we should learn more about each other.”

His brows creased slightly. “Why?”

She rested weight on her hand with the other in her lap. “It helps to know your new party members better. You know, since we're going to fight alongside each other.”

“We already shared what needs to be known.” He refused, continuing with his bread.

She studied him with curious eyes. “You’ve seen a lot, haven’t you?” When he didn’t answer, she sat up and continued. “I understand. A lot can happen in this profession.” She fidgeted with her bracelet, the only old and worn accessory on her. “I would just like to bolster my chances of making it back to my mother.”

Yakeru stalled for a fraction of a second, but didn't respond.

“Since we're on the topic of survival,” Yuto said, like he was a part of the conversation to begin with. “Does anyone know what to expect on this mountain besides bloodhounds?”

A breath left Risa’s nose, but let Yakeru be for now to acknowledge Yuto’s question. She produced a map outlining the Frostmarrow mountain range, eyes snapping to a rough drawing she’d circled in red.

“There should be a secluded village further up. I’m betting they know this range better than anyone,” she deduced, slipping the folded map back into a crevice in her coat.

“And how far would this village happen to be, approximately?” Takahiro inquired, packing his remaining provisions.

“It’s about a five-hour march from here,” she confirmed.

From the corner of Yakeru’s eye, Fuyumi had already finished eating, now restless. The wind picked up outside, screens of white whirling in wild patterns.

He packed the remainder of his provisions and stood. “We should get going.”

The rest of the group packed their things and tightened their coats before plunging into the cold once again.

The climb tested them with tossing winds and biting frost, but they pushed forward. Despite the wailing air and crunching snow, the trek had been quiet in the way only mountains could manage.

The elements had eventually wiped away the path in a blanket of white and gouged out ancient trenches in their way. They approached the closest valley, a gargantuan gorge plummeting into blackness. A single suspension bridge disappeared into the screen of white ahead, fibers hardened and wood weathered by time, whipping in the spiteful winds.

Yakeru’s mind snapped back to his first mission with Kenji and Fuyumi, and his finger twitched. Yuto and Takahiro peered over the edge into the abyssal depths.

“And this is the only way?” Yuto confirmed, although his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

“Unfortunately,” Risa responded.

Mind steeled, Yakeru went ahead of Fuyumi, who lingered by the frozen railing. He put gradual weight on the first plank.

It creaked, but held.

His back foot left the safety of the edge to step on the next one, careful not to let his gaze slip off the wood and into the abyss. Not again.

“The sooner we cross, the sooner we’ll get to that village.” He stepped off the bridge and looked back over his shoulder. “Yuto and Takahiro first. Risa, you’re in the middle. Fuyumi and I will cover the flank.”

Risa and the others nodded and started moving. Without thinking, Yakeru put himself between Risa’s party and Fuyumi. The thought of having strangers behind them on a fragile bridge didn’t bode well for him.

Frost bit his hands as he gripped the rope tight against the wind, palms numbing. Billowing snow swallowed the details of their forms, leaving them as faded silhouettes amidst a white void.

They crossed to the other side, Yakeru’s boots sinking a foot. He realized the bridge was the least of their worries, as visibility dropped the further they went. He reached behind him, feeling for his companion through the ripping air until his hand found Fuyumi’s arm. She reflexively reached for her hip—her dagger.

“It’s just me,” Yakeru assured.

Her hand relaxed, and she stepped into view—or at least close enough to make out the vague shape of her face.

“Whe—re are y—ou gu—ys?” The racing snow tore into Risa’s words.

“We’re get—ting sep—arated.” Yuto called out.

“Fret not, for yours truly comes prepared!” Takahiro declared over the competing winds.

Yakeru ushered Fuyumi forward. “Everyone, follow Takahiro’s voice!”

They tracked the noble's babbling about trivial details of the Nandemo House, the palpable pride in his voice cutting through the storm. Fuyumi groaned beside Yakeru when Takahiro informally invited her to an upcoming ball he originally wasn’t going to attend.

When they reached him, the others were already there. Takahiro had tied a rope around his waist and helped tether Yuto to him. Risa tied herself next, then Yakeru and Fuyumi.

Takahiro insisted on helping Fuyumi, but backed off when she hissed. With a good taut to ensure the tether was secure, Yakeru's skin prickled—not from the cold, from the ominous sense he wasn't supposed to be there.

He turned, vigilant eyes scanning the bleached air, only to find nothing. But he knew better. There were some things only instinct could sense.

His tether tugged, signaling the continuation of their trudge.

The sideways snow needled into any strip of exposed skin. The trail’s guidance had long since abandoned them under the restless sea of white. Only Risa and her iron grip on the map kept them from turning back an hour ago—maybe even two hours ago.

Somewhere along the way, the others ahead moved slower. Not from the ache of fatigue. From the weight of foreboding.

Yakeru checked his surroundings again out of habit, though sight was useless.

“Do any of you feel… I don't know.” Somewhere ahead, Yuto struggled to put it into words.

“It is a blizzard,” Takahiro assured, but something in his voice betrayed his caution.

Yakeru tuned them out, focusing entirely on surveillance.

That's when he saw it.

A flicker at first—something pale suspended in the storm.

Gone.

He filtered through all possible explanations. Perhaps a trick of the light. A reflection. An illusion?

Then it came again.

Two points of icy blue that faded into nothing the moment his eyes snagged on them.

“Did you—” Fuyumi began from beside him.

“Yeah,” Yakeru confirmed, features hardening. “We’re being stalked.”