Winter Principality, Saint Alexei Province, Poison Fern Pillar.
Bella landed on all fours, sprinting across the ground at high speed.
Yes, she was not human, but a wolf person.
Her spine was not of human form, but that of a wolf’s. Her limbs were distorted at the elbows and knees into beastly paws, and light gray fluff covered her four feet.
She also had short, light gray hair, which, along with her white leather armor, made her extremely difficult to spot in the snow.
Her running speed was incredibly fast—she could reach more than eighty kilometers per hour even amid snowy terrain. The abruptly rising stones on the ground, the steep cliffs, and those broken columns overgrown with dark green fern-like plants posed no trouble to her swift running.
But within her dark golden pupils, fear was brimming—
"You’re the only one left, deserter."
A cold, hollow voice echoed in the air, resounding heavily.
The fur on Bella’s body instantly bristled.
Without a second thought, she changed her original direction and in a few leaps, she was atop an eight or nine meter tall steep rocky pillar.
At the same time, her silver collar began to shimmer with a dazzling light.
Numerous black runes flowed from the silver collar, forming gruesome warpaint on her face and collarbones.
As the curse marks appeared, her figure suddenly became lighter.
Without hesitation, Bella leaped off the top of the poison fern-covered column—the moment her beast feet touched the air, ripples spread like those on water. And her speed unexpectedly more than doubled.
Visible winds formed a cape-like wave behind her. The wind carried her, allowing her to move silently and freely through the air.
This was something only a "Windwalker" could achieve.
The sky darkened at an alarming speed.
It was a mass of dark clouds.
The speed at which the clouds obscured the sunlight was far greater than Bella’s pace through the air.
In front of Bella, the howling wind rapidly formed into a towering blizzard wall from the ground’s snow, trapping her in the eye of the storm.
Bella looked up with some fear.
She saw beneath the dark clouds, a short-statured girl in white robes floating in mid-air.
There was no emotion in her ice-blue pupils, her half-open eyes brimming with divine-like indifference.
The waist-length smooth hair was no longer the harmless black of her childhood. With the catalysis of her bloodline power, it had turned silver-white with a faint blue tinge at the ends.
She was dressed in a white, gossamer-like long robe, and atop her head sat an openwork silver crown. Delicate silver scales emerged on the slender neck and bare ankles against her skin.
Of course, Bella knew who this was.
Maria Rime—the princess of this nation. The only daughter of the Duke of Winter.
She was also the current supreme ruler of the Winter Principality’s Transcendent organization, "The Hand of Winter."
A monster who had reached Gold rank by seventeen years of age.
In her desperate situation, Bella let out a long wolf howl.
Her body swiftly swelled, quickly transforming into a towering wolf over two meters tall, standing on its hind legs.
She showed no trace of fear as she bared her sharp claws and teeth at the "Lady of the Storm."
But her next act—was to bite her own tongue off.
Facing a Gold-ranked Decree Wizard, she lacked confidence in controlling her own body.
In the face of her nearly futile defiance, Maria’s face remained expressionless.
It was as if she hadn’t seen anything at all.
It wasn’t arrogance or contempt, but pure disregard.
"Don’t feel like talking... So be it," Maria murmured, "then just commit ’suicide.’
Her clear, cold voice carried a curse-like magic power.
Suddenly, Bella’s right hand shot out like lightning, extracting her own heart in an instant.
Maria watched as Bella’s pupils gradually lost color, her body slowly falling from the air, before she silently tilted her head back slightly.
The next moment, her body instantly disintegrated into countless snowflakes, blending into the surrounding howling ice storm.
The storm engulfed Bella’s corpse in the air—it instantly frosted over, falling into the snow before the actual snowfall. Only after the storm had gradually subsided did it fall back down with the snow, burying it on the spot.
In the Duchy of Winter, every thick layer of snow might be burying the body of a Transcendent.
A storm passed, and Maria’s body appeared out of nowhere, standing on the pillar where Bella had stood before.
She pulled out a pure white jade card from her bosom—on the originally blank card, writings had somehow already appeared.
She carefully read the letter from Vasily Manning, her long hair fluttering behind her, gradually falling.
"The Man in the Mirror"... huh.
Maria’s pupils showed no fluctuation as she silently muttered the name of the new god.
Michelangelo succeeded, huh.
So that means... without the Book of Truth, one can still ascend to godhood.
Her pupils were deep and distant.
At the end of her gaze, at the far north of the Duchy of Winter... that place was known as the edge of human civilization.
Materialized nightmares, endless gray mist... and the souls that had been swallowed by the gray mist.
—Just become a god, and one would be free to set foot in the mist.
She closed her eyes and murmured softly.
In her mind, filled with myriad negative emotions, a rare moment of tranquility emerged.
After digesting the good news, Maria replied indifferently, "Prepare to return home, Vasily.
"In ten days, a cargo ship with blue canvas will arrive at Frostwater Harbor. You can leave by boat."
Then, she sent out this message.
But soon, a new reply appeared on it.
It was not the familiar "received."
Instead, it was information about her younger brother who had been missing for over a year—
Annan hadn’t gone missing, nor had he been killed by the Rotten...
But quickly, her heart was again filled with intense agitation, anxiety, and suspicion:
It was one thing for Annan to have become a Transcendent.
The critical question was... how would he return home?
If Noah found out Annan was trapped within their borders, would they force him to do something? Would they imprison him? Would they torture him? Would they detain Annan to negotiate benefits with Winter? Would they interrogate him for information? Would the Rotten chase after him? Could Grandmother find Annan?
Her calm thoughts were instantly disrupted, countless disturbing possibilities kept surfacing in her mind.
"Annan... Annan Annan Annan Annan Annan Annan..."
She murmured softly, repeating his name over and over.
Finally, Maria broke free from the restless emotions that kept emerging from the depths of her heart.
This matter had to be discussed with Father, both emotionally and rationally.