“Goodbye.” On departure day, Lance waved to Count George, a leaf‑light gesture against the city gate’s cold stone.

The three men looked reluctant, like tearful old fathers. They walked us far, stopping only at George’s border. “Lord Lance, please be careful on the road.”

“I will,” Lance said.

The Marquis’s convoy rolled on. The three figures sank at the rim of the world, swallowed by the horizon like dimming stars.

“They’ll be lonely,” the Feng Wolf Marquis said, staring at a world white with snow. He spoke with apology. “I called George a poor employer. I take that back. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

Lance shrugged. “No need.”

“Arrogance, rudeness, stubbornness, prejudice…”

“Hold to them, and they might turn into pride, candor, persistence, and foresight,” Lance said.

The Feng Wolf Marquis blinked, thoughtful. “Is that the Blazing Fire Knight’s life philosophy?”

“Sixteen. So young. Remarkable,” he sighed.

Outside, white on white. Snow danced like a thousand white fairies.

“Hey—if you ask me, Count George is probably over the moon!” Jeremy popped up, loud with tavern warmth.

He hadn’t known we’d leave today. He’d drunk hard last night with his boys. He barely slept. He’d curled on the deck under blankets. Four hours later, he finally woke.

He flung his quilt aside, stood, and fussed with his gear. “Once the boss leaves, the crowd at the gate shouting to see you is gone. Their days can finally be easy.”

“Who doesn’t want easy days?” he added.

Lance stared at the endless white, bored. “Yeah.”

“Leisure… a quiet life…”

The white view had no end.

The convoy wasn’t slow, yet after four hours the scene stayed unchanged. Winter’s snowlands, the same no matter where you went.

Lance glanced at the big cat. It sprawled atop the rear carriage, letting the wind lash its fur. “Cold?”

It cracked one lazy eye, then shut it. Its dozing said it feared no cold.

Yuna had been a sheltered young lady, well‑taught before her family fell.

“Tier‑B magical beasts adapt well,” she explained. “They handle desert and snow alike.”

Jeremy asked, “Then why aren’t beasts running everywhere?”

“Running everywhere?” Yuna found it too vague.

Jeremy scratched his head and pinched out a frozen louse. He tried an example. “A traveler with no guards, from Golden Bay City to Mubay City, hits bandits again and again, but not a single beast. Why?”

“Because beasts can’t live away from their habitat,” Yuna said, remembering. “They can’t survive outside the Blight.”

“That purple battle aura stuff?” Jeremy asked, baffled.

The Marquis’s private mage cut in. “Strictly speaking—the Blight is a natural force. It surges from underground. Beasts survive only inside Blight zones.”

“Leave the Blight, and they soon weaken and die,” he recited.

Jeremy glanced at the roof‑napping big cat. He was rude and honest. “Then why can the boss’s ‘partner’ be out here?”

The mage grew annoyed. He kept it short. “That means it’s a phantom beast. A beast with a baleful nature.”

Fulin caught on the word. Playing Lance, she asked, “Baleful? If it’s smart, why not say it’s spirited?”

“Good question.” The mage brightened because Lance asked. He preened. “Phantom beasts never approach humans out of goodwill. No exceptions.”

“So that’s why you call it baleful?” Lance mused.

“Yes.” He cast a warming spell in the carriage. Once the air steadied, he continued. “It craves human cooking. Or it covets a high‑grade prey it can’t reach yet.”

“Meaning the Blazing Fire Knight. Meaning you.”

Jeremy didn’t quite get it. He went blunt. “So the ‘partner’ is waiting to eat the boss?”

Since it wasn’t Lance asking, the mage’s patience thinned again. “Basically, phantom beasts that linger by a knight all plan for that.”

“Maybe the Blazing Fire Knight is too powerful and gifted,” he said, eyeing the big cat. “So it won’t strike yet.”

“Is that so…” Lance stayed bored, eyes on the pale world.

Outside, white upon white. White fairies danced, then sank to the silent earth, dressing her in silver.

Even beauty wears thin when it never changes. Lance tired of it. “How far till we clear the Golden Bay City plains?”

The guard knight answered, “Two days to get past the plains. Longer if snow blocks the roads.”

Lance frowned. “Can’t you be specific—kilometers or hours?”

“Well…” The guard stalled.

“Lord Lance, I’m sorry we can’t be exact,” the Marquis said under the lantern, unfolding a map. He tapped the road. “We’re taking the land route to Maple City, yes?”

Fulin found it odd. A carriage can’t fly. Lance said, “Yes. What’s the issue?”

“That’s the issue.” The Marquis pointed. “Traffic between Maple City and Golden Bay City has always been by water. Regular ferries on the White River. Right?”

Travel guides agreed. Lance nodded. “Yeah.”

“The White River freezes all winter,” the Marquis scraped ice crumbs off his boot on the deck. “But that ice isn’t normal. It’s deadly for boats.”

“They’re ice floes,” he said.

“Ice floes, huh.” Lance got it. “No icebreaker, no go.”

“Right. And even the Heavenly Spirit Empire’s icebreakers aren’t safe.” The Marquis tapped Lance’s stomach with a light fist. “Floe ice slams into hulls. Big ones rise from below. A boat can get flipped by a floe lifting from the riverbed.”

Lance leaned in, interested. “Sounds like some idiot’s making ice under the White River.”

“Exactly. The bottom should be warmer than the surface. The riverbed shouldn’t freeze. But…”

Fulin rifled through Lance’s memories and clicked. Lance said, “The Heat‑avoiding Lord settled on the riverbed?”

“Yes. It used to live in the Heavenly Spirit Empire. In recent years it was driven into the Doran Kingdom. It stacks ice blocks in its lair.”

“And the White River’s a mountain snowmelt river—”

“Right!” The Marquis’s eyes widened. “No wonder you’re the Blazing Fire Knight. Your insight is impressive.”

Lance sank back, helpless and lazy. “Looks like the Heavenly Spirit likes leaving trouble for us.”

It sounded harmless, yet the carriage tightened like a bowstring. People glanced around, tense, then eased when they confirmed we were all our own. The Marquis warned, “Lord Lance, please don’t say that again.”

Fulin was curious. As Lance, she hadn’t been restrained in Golden Bay City. Was Maple City different?

Lance asked, “Why? We got word bans now?”

“This isn’t some word prison,” the Marquis said grimly. “After the unrest in Golden Bay City, the Doran Kingdom’s supervision ramped up. It spreads wider and wider.”

The guard knight said, “In Maple City, plenty of commoners were hauled off by Inquisitors for loose talk.”

“Inquisitors?” Lance sounded puzzled. He looked at the far white. “I thought that was an Inspector’s job. How’d it jump straight to Inquisitors?”

Because of Inquisitors, the Iron Duke had been crafty—exile in name, so Inquisitors lost legal power over Lance.

In short, Lance strolls free because the Iron Duke shielded him.

Change the enfeoffment, and that shield vanishes. For example—

By becoming the Feng Wolf Marquis’s enfeoffed knight, he counts as the Feng Wolf house, a lawful subject in the Maple City region.

As a lawful subject of the kingdom, the Heavenly Spirit Empire’s Inquisitors can move with cause—even trumped‑up cause.

If they’re still fixated on Lance, they might come seize him, reheat last year’s case, and reopen the ledger.

The Marquis gave the blunt reason for the Inquisitors’ expanded reach. “Because an Inspector died in Golden Bay City.”

“Is that so.” Lance lounged against the carriage rail, casual as smoke. “That Inspector got one‑shot by the Mountain Wind, so—”

The Marquis wiped cold sweat and took over. “Normally that wouldn’t happen. Inspectors are no pushovers.”

“But the Mountain Wind Knight is special. In front of him, even a strong mage has no time to cast. That move—”

“Gale Slash,” Lance supplied.

“Yes, yes.” The Marquis ducked his head, embarrassed. “I almost forgot you’d fought him.”

Lance didn’t think the mage had no chance. “A mage just needs prep. Then the Mountain Wind’s speed wouldn’t help, right?”

“Maybe.”

The Marquis coughed. “Anyway, the Shadowspirit Legion keeps stirring trouble. The Inspectors can’t keep up.”

“So Inquisitors have to move.” Lance rubbed his forehead, like a headache blooming. “Great. Things get messy.”

“Why?”

“Afraid they’ll fixate on me,” Lance said.

The mage nodded. He understood. “You became famous in a single battle. The Heavenly Spirit Empire wants to investigate you in person, but held back for appearances.”

Lance waved it off. “Old news.”

Silence settled. Snow fell soundless. Hooves and wheels lost their rhythm, then melted into the hush, blending with a world wrapped in quiet.

By the Marquis’s count, the land route takes four full days. On the road, Lance was bored. He asked, “What kind of place is Maple City?”

“In late autumn, do beautiful maple leaves drift across the sky?” Fulin imagined.

“It used to be like that.” The Marquis studied twin rows of silver outside. He sighed. “Since the Golden Flower Marquis arrived, everything changed.”

His gaze went blank. “Maple City is now a city of flowers. Her beauty no longer needs maple leaves.”