he next morning, when Talulah woke up, she found that Jeanne and Alina had already been up for some time, busy preparing breakfast.
Kashchey is being tortured by a strange light... why am I having such bizarre dreams? Talulah wondered silently. Still, she shook off the lingering images and got up to help them.
After packing their belongings, the trio set off, with Jeanne leading the way. Their goal was to find a new shelter and, hopefully, encounter other Infected who were struggling to survive.
Back at Old Ivan's house, the morning lacked its usual vitality. The three girls who had filled the home with life were gone: quiet Alina, rowdy Talulah, and the ever-gentle Jeanne. Only a day ago, they had lived with hope; now, the three were forced to flee into the harshest climate imaginable.
The villagers were also preparing to leave, searching for a new home. No one knew when they would see each other again. Perhaps, they never would.
"I hope the Great Emperor blesses my children, that they may find a new home and live in peace and happiness," Grandma whispered a blessing before departing. The village had decided to head West, hoping Jeanne's guidance would bring them salvation once more.
"Forget it. If the Emperor truly protected his subjects, so many tragedies wouldn't happen," Grandpa grumbled, adjusting his heavy coat. He had actually planned to work in the mines recently in hopes of contracting Oripathy. He wanted to be a scapegoat—thinking that if the girls' secrets were ever exposed, he could take the fall as an Infected.
But after days of trying, he hadn't caught it. Instead, the three children had been forced away by other circumstances. Recalling Talulah's complaints about the Emperor, he began to believe that the cold man on the throne truly didn't care for his people.
But what did it matter? This country continuously devoured those with kindness and hope. The nobles grew fat off the ideals of the commoners, and the Emperor was either indifferent or incapable of caring. The Empire only wanted never-ending war. How many more good people would be crushed by this juggernaut? No one knew. They could only run—run and never stop.
Taking one last look at the village, they let out a helpless sigh and followed the crowd into the distance.
"How much further, Jeanne?!" Talulah shouted over the howling wind. The blizzard was so thick it was nearly impossible to see the path; they were relying entirely on Jeanne's monster-tier intuition to move forward.
To prevent being separated and lost in the whiteout, they had tied themselves together with a hemp rope. Luggage on their backs, hands clasped together, they trudged through the deep snow step by step.
"Almost there! There should be a place to take shelter up ahead! Hang in there! We'll be able to rest soon!"
Internally, Jeanne was also feeling anxious. They had placed their absolute trust in the path she chose, which meant they had placed their lives in her hands. She prayed fervently that her Revelation wouldn't fail. Strangely, whenever she prayed, she felt a flicker of annoyance from "above"—as if the Deity was offended that she doubted the skill.
But I'm just a weak and helpless Saint! Jeanne thought (though the "Snake Fangs" would have called that a blatant lie). Lacking what she considered "true" power, she naturally felt uneasy.
Fortunately—or perhaps inevitably—they stumbled upon an abandoned village. Half-buried in snow, the settlement appeared to have been deserted for about six months. They found a relatively intact house and hurried inside.
However, the interior gave them an eerie feeling. The mess wasn't the kind left by people moving out; it looked like they had fled in a desperate hurry.
They cautiously searched the village. Signs of life were everywhere. The woodsheds were packed to the brim with timber. In some dilapidated houses, pots still sat on cold hearths, the food inside frozen solid into blocks of ice.
Returning to their main shelter, they agreed: something was wrong. People were clearly living here right up until the moment they vanished. But where did they go? What made them flee so suddenly? Talulah even found an old gold ring and some jewelry hidden in a corner.
"The villagers didn't just 'move' away. There's something fishy going on here!" Alina said, holding up several books she had found. "These books aren't cheap. I found them in a house that looked quite wealthy. There was a hidden compartment in the bookshelf where I also found several bars of pure gold."
Jeanne took the books. Looking at the exquisite covers, she knew they were expensive. Leaving such wealth behind was unthinkable. It was too bizarre.
"Do you think... this village is haunted?" Talulah whispered, her head shrinking into her collar. "Like those monsters in Jeanne's stories? Are they hiding in the shadows, waiting to kill us?"
She remembered the ghost stories Jeanne sometimes told at night—stories that left her wide awake and terrified. Once, Jeanne told a story about a ghost in a toilet that was so scary Talulah didn't dare go to the bathroom alone for several nights; she had forced Jeanne to get up and go with her.
Now, in a silent, empty village, trapped by a blizzard, surrounded by inexplicable clues... wasn't this exactly how the haunted settings in Jeanne's stories started? Talulah was genuinely spooked.
It was a strange contradiction: Talulah felt no fear when facing bloodthirsty enemies, yet a few ghost stories could leave her trembling for days.
"Hahahahaha!"
Jeanne and Alina stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.
"I'm not joking! This is just like that creepy mountain village in Jeanne's stories! Or that one where the parents turn into pigs and the girl has to work for a sweatshop—there was an empty village in that one too! What if it's real?!"
Talulah's face turned red with embarrassment. She couldn't help it—she was scared! Besides, they already knew she was afraid of ghosts, so what was so funny?! And that wicked Jeanne—knowing she was terrified, Jeanne still told those stories, and Talulah, cursed with curiosity, always listened.
However, Talulah wasn't entirely without a way to retaliate against Jeanne's "tyranny."
Jeanne was terrible at math. Whenever Talulah couldn't sleep, she would spend the next morning "tutoring" Jeanne in advanced mathematics. Seeing Jeanne's face twist in agony over equations brought Talulah a great deal of joy.
In this ongoing battle of wits and ghosts, Alina—the silent observer—remained the true winner.