Now alone, Casimir presses forward along the winding trail, leaving behind the faint footprints of Kanako. His mind drifts involuntarily to her, the friend he left behind. A sudden ache tugs at his thoughts. "Maybe I should've asked her to come with me," he whispers softly to himself, feeling a twinge of regret. He quickly pushes the thought away, shaking his head and scowling. "No... I shouldn't be dwelling on that now. I need to stay focused," he tells himself firmly. His footsteps are steady but thoughtful, each one taking him further into unfamiliar territory. As the sun drops lower and shadows lengthen, the dense forest begins to close in around him. What was once open trail is now flanked by thick trees on both sides, their branches blocking out most of the fading light. The only sounds are his boots crunching against dirt and the occasional scurry of small creatures hiding among the roots.
After walking in silence for about two hours, Casimir's sharp eyes catch a flicker out of the corner of his vision. A faint rustling comes from a cluster of bushes nearby. His senses sharpen, instincts kicking in. With a quick glance and a careful scan, he observes movement—eight goblin wolves emerge from the undergrowth, their bodies hunched low to the ground. Their pointy ears twitch at every sound, and rows of razor-sharp teeth flash in the dwindling light as they scent the air. These are not ordinary wolves; they are creatures of dark magic, created from it, while imposing savage instincts, twisted into feral killers.
Casimir responds swiftly. Without hesitation, he unsheathes his sword, holding it at the ready. The goblin wolves detect him instantly, their eyes glinting with hunger and aggression. They surge forward, driven by primal instinct, claws scraping against the earth as they close in. Their leader, larger and more imposing than the others, seems to possess a strange aura about him. Its fur is streaked with a faint, eerie blue—a sign of ice magic running through its veins. Unlike the green or black of typical wolves, the icy hue flickers softly with each movement, hinting at its magical powers.
The wolves lunge at Casimir with a ferocity that's almost uncontrollable. But as they collide with his sword, a remarkable change occurs. Instead of blood, black flames erupt, engulfing the wolves in searing darkness. The flames crackle and hiss as they burn away flesh, leaving nothing but misty black smoke in their wake. Casimir moves swiftly, killing the smaller wolves one by one with precise strikes, until only the leader remains standing among the trail.
The leader sniffs the air and begins to gather icy energy. Its fur bristles as it releases an icy aura, chilling the very air around it. Frost begins to form on the ground, coating the roots and rocks with a slick layer of ice. Branches freeze in mid-sway, and even the air feels sharp and cold. It's clear this creature isn't just fueled by physical strength but also by its mastery of ice magic, preparing a devastating attack.
Casimir's instincts take over; he knows he can't wait for the frost to fully form. He moves with inhuman speed, powering forward, closing the gap before the leader can unleash its magic. His heart pounding, he pushes through the biting cold, aiming to strike before disaster strikes. But the leader is quick. With a sudden opening of it's mouth, it unleashes a deadly icy beam. The beam shoots out like a spear of frozen light, instantly freezing everything within a five-meter radius. The ground, trees, and even the air seem to freeze in place, shimmering with crystalline ice.
Casimir reacts instantly. Raising his sword swiftly, he positions it in front of him to block the incoming attack. The icy beam hits his blade, which imparts a sub-zero chill that seeps into his hands. He feels a piercing cold, but his sword absorbs much of the impact. The contact pushes him back slightly, yet he remains rooted. His sword pulses with an intense glow—the dragon eye on it flickering rapidly. The sword begins to absorb the icy magic, the energy flowing into it like a living thing.
Suddenly, the sword's glow intensifies. A powerful shockwave erupts outward, spreading in a radius of fifteen meters. The force is immense—causing a blast of black energy that tears through the frozen air. The shockwave shatters the ice and vaporizes the remaining form of the goblin leader, leaving nothing but pieces of trees scattered throughout. The blast pulverizes all around, leaving behind a chaotic, broken landscape.
Casimir stares at his sword, his breath visible in the cold air. For a moment, he's stunned by what he has just witnessed. The destructive force contained within that blade surpasses anything he ever expected. The power seems endless, rooted in the magic of the dragon eye embedded deep in its core. His mind races, trying to comprehend the extent of its strength, yet he knows better than to linger. Instinct urges him to escape this destroyed area.
Without hesitation, Casimir turns away from the battlefield. He quickly steps back away from the destruction his sword had caused, moving with purpose towards the city of Delavar. The impending arrival of the city's walls beckons, promising a safe haven after this close call. As he walks, he keeps his eyes sharp, aware that such power might attract unwanted attention in the future. He is both grateful and wary of the sword's devastating capabilities, knowing they might be the key to facing even greater threats ahead.
Casimir keeps walking for another three hours, moving steadily through untouched nature. The path winds past tall waterfalls, their roaring sounds echoing in the distance as clear streams tumble over jagged rocks. The terrain slowly rises into rugged mountains. The darkening sky hints at an approaching storm, with heavy clouds gathering and lightning flashing faintly in the distance. The sun has vanished behind thick clouds, leaving only the faint glow of twilight. As the weather worsens, Casimir decides it's best to stop and set up camp for the night. He takes out his portable home, a small cube no bigger than his palm, which he tosses onto an open patch of ground. Instantly, it unfolds into a snug, cozy cottage, complete with warm lighting and sturdy walls. He quickly steps inside, just as the first raindrops begin to fall, tapping softly on the roof. The cottage's interior offers comfort after a long journey. Casimir lights a fire in the fireplace, warming the space quickly and creating a welcoming glow. The flickering flames chase away the chill, filling the room with a soft glow. Next, he heads into the tiny kitchen area, where a small stove and simple utensils are neatly stored. He begins preparing a meal using tender lamb meat and a variety of fresh vegetables — carrots, potatoes, and leafy greens. The fragrant aroma fills the compact space as the food cooks. When the food is done and he begins to eat, his mind wanders to Kanako and how she kept him company. After enjoying his meal, he steps into the shower area, where warm water washes away dirt and fatigue accumulated from hours of trekking. The refreshingly hot spray helps clear his mind and relax his muscles before settling in for the night. Casimir feels ready for a good rest, knowing he's prepared for whatever tomorrow might bring. As the storm rages outside, he lies down on the cozy cot, secure inside his portable home, drifting off with a sense of peace amidst the wild, untamed landscape.
At dawn, Casimir wakes up before the sun fully rises and is already packed and ready to leave. He moves quickly, with purpose, knowing he cannot afford to waste a single minute. His first actions are to tidy up the portable cottage, making sure everything is in order before he transforms it back into its compact, cube-like form. The process is swift and precise, as he has done it many times before, folding and collapsing the small dwelling so it can be easily stowed away. Once the cottage is safely packed inside his bag, he begins his journey on foot, walking steadily for about three hours under the clear morning sky. As he moves farther from his campsite, he can finally see the outline of the city shadows against the horizon, with the tall, imposing walls guarding its edges. Beyond the walls, standing out starkly, is the massive castle that serves as the home of the Zans family. The castle's towers reach high into the sky, its dark stone walls shimmering faintly in the morning light. As Casimir approaches, he takes note of how the city itself appears smaller than Bramola, at least when viewing from this distance. The surface area of the city is significantly less, making it clear that it sprawls out more compactly. The easy, open landscape around it also hints at how much more land Bramola covers in comparison. As he continues walking, Casimir remains alert, aware that despite its smaller size, the city's defenses and the castle could still pose many surprises. His mind flicks through the reason for his early start, knowing that arriving quickly will give him an advantage. The journey feels deliberate and heavy with purpose, each step bringing him closer to what lies ahead.