Sausage

Ge Rui noticed Anana's gaze.

"Oh, they're tourists from Rock City. They'll be staying in Lake Village for a while."

"Tourists?"

Anana was utterly baffled. She couldn't fathom what could possibly be worth seeing in a place like Lake Village—where biting winds and endless snow were the only constants.

"For people from other regions, the snowy landscapes of the Frostlands are a rare sight," Ge Rui said, waving a hand at her. "Now hurry back inside before you freeze out here."

Anana didn’t press further, clutching her long-awaited doll as she returned home.

The merchant caravan began unloading their goods. The men worked swiftly, hauling crates of spices and fine salt into the village.

"Good work," Ge Rui greeted them with a smile.

The men chatted about their earnings and the news from the city before dispersing to their homes.

Once they were gone, Ge Rui led the group of gray-robed figures into the village schoolhouse.

Old Cody didn’t seem surprised by their arrival.

"How many people are in this village?"

"About a hundred or so."

"Some of the hunters here are as skilled as mid-tier adventurers. They won’t be easy to handle."

"Master Cody is a powerful mage, and… Boer here has also joined the operation. He’s the newest Revelator."

From the crowd, Boer pulled back his hood.

He was young—barely in his twenties—with ashen hair and delicate features that might have been handsome if not for his unkempt appearance and sickly, sallow complexion.

Boer’s frail frame looked as if a stiff breeze could knock him over, making it hard to believe he posed any threat.

"Leave the troublesome ones… to me." His voice, raspy and aged like a dying man’s, clashed sharply with his youthful face.

"That’s reassuring," Old Cody said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "That way, I can focus on setting up the ritual array."

At the mention of the array, the group’s expressions grew fervent.

"Will the Hero truly hear our call?"

"Of course! During the last operation, the Revelators already received the Hero’s gaze… but those bastards from the Truth Magisterium caught wind of it…"

"Have those ingrates forgotten the Hero’s grace? Damn traitors!"

"Only the Hero can lead this world back to its rightful path!"

"We must… end the Demon King’s reign!"

Among them, Ge Rui had somehow changed into a gray-yellow robe as well.

"For the Hero!"

…

The disciples arrived at dusk, and now night had fully fallen.

The evening was eerily calm, the cloudless sky casting a cold, silver moonlight over the snow—like a mirror reflecting the very essence of winter’s bite.

Anana peered out the window, the ruby pendant at her chest radiating warmth, yet an unease lingered in her heart.

"What’s wrong, Anana? You should be in bed," her mother said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Didn’t Ge Rui get you a new doll? You can sleep with it tonight."

Anana stuck out her tongue slightly. As always, her mother saw right through her.

"But I want to sleep with you."

"Ah… that won’t do, Anana." Her mother patted her head. "Your father… he got hurt during his last hunt. I need to tend to his wounds tonight."

Anana didn’t ask why, whenever her mother "tended" to her father’s wounds, it was always her who ended up screaming.

"Alright, Anana… off to bed now." Her mother kissed her forehead, and Anana nodded.

Hmm—

A strange, resonant hum suddenly echoed outside.

Then, a thick crimson light erupted into the sky, enveloping all of Lake Village.

"What’s happening?" Her mother stared blankly out the window, instinctively pulling Anana close.

"Stay inside. I’ll check it out." Her father, Anlier, hastily threw on a fur-lined coat, grabbed his longbow from the door, and snatched up a steel scimitar before rushing out.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Deafening explosions shook the snowhouse, its icy walls trembling.

Anana shrank into her mother’s embrace, trembling.

"Don’t be afraid, sweetheart. Your father is strong—he’ll take care of it," her mother whispered, holding her tight.

But as Anana looked up at her mother’s paper-white face, her heart sank.

Outside, the shouts of men and the screams of women mingled in chaos.

Her father’s voice rose above the rest, locked in confrontation with someone.

"Ge Rui! What are you doing?!"

"Who are these people?!"

"Why would you do this?!"

For a moment, there was only silence in response.

Then—

"Anlier… I’m sorry."

Another earth-shaking explosion followed, accompanied by an inhuman roar.

CRASH!

The thick ice wall of the snowhouse shattered inward as a figure was hurled through, landing right at Anana and her mother’s feet.

"No! Anlier!" Her mother screamed.

It was her father.

Anlier’s chest was caved in, blood gushing from the wound. He could no longer stand.

In Anana’s eyes, her father had always been the pillar of their family—Lake Village’s strongest hunter, a man who could single-handedly take down a three-meter-tall snow bear. There was nothing he couldn’t do.

Now, he lay gasping, moments from becoming a corpse.

The freezing wind howled through the broken wall, chilling Anana’s heart as much as the winter night outside.

Through the collapsing structure, Anana caught sight of a monstrous, skinless figure—crimson flesh exposed, her father’s arrow embedded in its skull and his scimitar lodged in its chest.

The creature yanked out the weapons and turned its cold gaze toward them.

In the next instant, it leaped forward, landing right before Anana.

"Run… now!" Anlier forced himself up, shoving his wife away. "I’ll… hold it off!"

The monster’s eyes gleamed with mockery. "The entire village is sealed by the ritual array. No one escapes… You are all offerings to the Hero."

"You dare defile the legendary Hero’s name? What you worship is nothing but a filthy false god!"

Anlier coughed up blood, staggering forward—only for his vision to blur red before he collapsed.

"Fools like you could never understand the Hero’s—"

The creature’s words cut off abruptly.

Anana stared, stunned, as the monster froze solid into a blue statue of ice.

Behind it, through the shattered wall, a massive blue vertical eye locked onto her.

Then, a voice—clear, youthful, yet sharp as winter’s edge—rang out:

"Do you have any sausages?"