The village chief grumbled about how stubborn “that brat” was, then promptly shut the window.

He hefted a heavy brazier, stirred it with a poker, and sighed deeply. After letting out a few more consecutive sighs, he finally turned to me with a question.

“When do you plan to leave? And how?”

“On my birthday…”

“No. If you wait until then, it’ll be even colder. If you’re going to leave anyway, it’s better to go now. I’ll let the Syle Merchant Group know in advance, so join them as far as Gloria. Fate has a strange way of working, doesn’t it?”

Come to think of it, the leader of the Syle Merchant Group had mentioned something peculiar before.

A noble duke from the royal capital, one of the Heroes of the Pentagram, had personally written a letter of recommendation for our humble village.

“Village Chief, how do you know Duke Shade ?”

“There was a time I served him briefly. If he wrote a letter for the Syle Merchant Group, it seems he still remembers me…”

He served one of the Heroes of the Pentagram? The man who brought the sun down to earth, a hero like a star? Suddenly, the village chief seemed like an entirely different person.

“Before you get too excited, let me clarify—I didn’t serve him as closely as you might think. Don’t get your hopes up. That said, if you mention my name, he won’t turn you away. So, go to Gloria first.”

Gloria.

The city where one of the three fragments of the Sun hangs.

The center of the world.

Just thinking about it made my heart race.

The chief shook his head with a mix of reluctance and resolve. Since he had decided to send me off, he spoke as if offering a blessing.

“If you’re going to see the world, Gloria’s the place to start. Follow the Syle Merchant Group and learn the wisdom of the snowy plains. You’ll pick it up quickly.”

Then he took off his wristwatch and tossed it to me.

“It’s a dwarven-made watch. If those scoundrels from the Zeroth Merchant Group weren’t lying through their teeth, it’s genuine. You’ll need it for your journey.”

“Village Chief, this…?”

I’d heard it was part of his late wife’s dowry. Even when Semna had begged and cried for it, he never let it go. Yet now, he was giving it to me…

“Live your life with discipline. Sleep properly, on time. Rest well, and you’ll be able to move well. Always eat your meals. After eating, rub salt on your fingers and brush your teeth.

Learn to tell trustworthy people from those who aren’t. Dry your shoes and socks often. Move your fingers and toes whenever you get the chance.”

For someone who rarely nagged, the chief unleashed a torrent of advice, then paused to look at me for a moment.

“If you ever want to come back, come back anytime.”

I fiddled with the heirloom watch on my wrist, suppressing the surge of emotions threatening to spill over. If I showed any weakness now, the chief would worry.

I would leave with confidence. The Shepherd of Greendal does not cry.

“I’ll be back safely,” I said, offering a simple farewell.

The chief hesitated, then awkwardly pulled me into a hug. His bristly beard scratched against my cheek.

It reminded me of my father’s embrace from long ago. On sleepless nights, the chief would cradle both Semna and me in his arms and walk along the village fence.

Until I fell asleep, no matter how many times—tens or even hundreds of times—it took.

“...I’ll be back safely.”

That was all I said as I bowed in farewell.

The leader of the Syle Merchant Group, as expected, was someone named Syle .

At first glance, his features—eyes, nose, and mouth—seemed reasonably well-proportioned, but his face was marked with fine wrinkles that made him look older than he might be. In truth, it was impossible to tell whether he was young or old.

Syle scrutinized me for a while before clapping me on the shoulder.

“You look like a clever one.”

“Thank you. And you, Sir Group Leader, look experienced.”

“Ha! Got some nerve, don’t you? Guts and spirit, too. But...”

Syle clapped my shoulder again before spinning on his heel.

“Hmm. Now, I know the village chief has put in a word for you, but I can’t just let you tag along. Traveling to pioneering settlements is dangerous business. Letting a clumsy rookie join us could lead to disaster.”

Syle launched into a series of grim tales, clearly intending to scare me.

A sentry who fell asleep and let the fire die out, a misstep on a frozen valley that broke the ice beneath, and so on. The endings were always the same: the entire Group wiped out because of one fool.

“That’s why I need to test you first, to see if you’re that kind of person.”

As Syle circled me, weaving his ominous tales, the village chief stood with arms crossed, silently observing.

Though he had asked Syle to take me along, it was clear his help ended there. Even Syle, who seemed to respect the chief, wasn’t someone to be easily swayed.

Still, he likely wouldn’t push the test too far. It was probably just a show of authority.

“If that’s what you’re thinking, you’re dead wrong.”

It felt as if he had read my mind, and I flinched.

Syle whistled sharply, and soon, two burly men approached, leading a horse.

“This here is a Yakut pony, built for the cold. They pull carts and carry riders. Without these sturdy companions, snowy expeditions wouldn’t be possible.”

The horse snorted loudly and stamped its hooves on the ground.

Of all the ponies they had, they’d clearly picked the most temperamental one. The two men chuckled and stepped back, letting go of the reins and bridle.

The pony stamped its hooves again, exuding restless energy. One wrong move, and I’d likely end up bedridden.

Surely the village chief didn’t mean for me to get hurt... right?

From afar, the chief raised his thumb in silent encouragement.

I decided to take it as a gesture of support.

Fine.

I’ve never ridden a horse before—not even close. Sheep, sure, but not horses. Still, there’s no reason to panic.

This pony might be feisty, but it’s still livestock. It’s been handled by humans and has spent its life among them.

So long as I don’t give it a reason to lash out, it won’t.

All I had to do was treat it the same way the Group folk would. I’d picked up some basic horse-handling tips from the Zeroth Group members, even though they never let me ride one.

Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself.

If I looked anxious, the horse would sense it too.

“Easy, easy there,” I whispered.

Horses are skittish; they don’t like sudden movements in their line of sight. Since their eyes are on the sides of their heads, I needed to approach from the side.

Step by careful step, I edged closer.

The pony didn’t snort or toss its head, but it flattened its ears back—a clear sign it was displeased.

I raised my hand slightly and backed away slowly.

Not this side, then. Fine.

I tried the other side, lowering my hand as I approached to show I meant no harm.

“Prrr...”

The pony let out a low snort.

The pony huffed and hesitated, but eventually brought its nose closer to sniff my hand. I waited patiently until it seemed satisfied. Slowly, I reached out to stroke its neck. When I felt confident enough, I swung myself onto its back in one swift motion.

“Hiiighhiiin!”

But as soon as I settled, the pony reared up, lifting its front legs high into the air. The sudden shift in weight nearly sent me tumbling backward.

“You little—!”

I clung tightly to its neck, wrapping my arms firmly around it. In response, the pony bucked wildly, kicking out with its hind legs. My body jolted with each movement, and the blood rushed to my head.

For a moment, my grip loosened, and the pony alternated between raising its front and hind legs, doing everything it could to shake me off. But I couldn’t let that happen.

Gritting my teeth, I tightened my arms around its neck once more. If it wanted a contest of wills, I was more than ready to meet the challenge.

“Hiiiighhhiiin!”

The pony thrashed its head, twisting from side to side, then forward and back, but I held on. This was no time to show weakness. I’d be riding this beast for some time, and I couldn’t afford to lose face now.

I braced myself, using every ounce of strength to stay on. The pony resisted stubbornly, but I doubled down, holding its neck even tighter.

“Hiiiighh... hiiin... hhin...”

Its cries gradually softened, its spirit visibly waning. The pony looked as if it might start crying real tears. See, that’s what you get for acting up!

“Surrender?”

“...Hhin.”

“All right, I’ll get down. But if you act up again, you’re in for it.”

The pony snorted pitifully and nodded its head, as if understanding my words. Smarter than I thought.

Still keeping one arm wrapped around its neck, I lowered myself gently to the ground. With my feet planted firmly, I bent my knees and shifted my weight carefully. The pony followed my lead, bending its front legs as if bowing.

“Good.”

I swung myself back into the saddle. The pony fidgeted slightly but stayed put, chewing its bit as though it were sulking.

“Forward.”

The pony began to walk forward, its steps hesitant but obedient.

“Back.”

It stopped, then backed up cautiously.

This one’s smarter than I expected.

“Sideways.”

It paused briefly, then sidestepped, even managing to circle around me as if performing a trick.

“Whoa!”

“Magnificent!”

Cheering broke out from onlookers who had apparently been watching the entire time.

For a pony thought to be unruly, it was proving to be exceptional—worthy of a skilled rider who could command it. This level of understanding and ability made it a horse deserving of its title: a noble steed.

I decided I liked this one. As a tribute to the Zeroth members who had taught me about handling horses, I named the pony Zero.

Syle the leader, smirked and tossed a teasing remark.

“Kid, I thought you’d fall off and cry like a baby, but you did all right.”

“The Shepherd of Greendal doesn’t cry, even if we fall from a dragon’s head.”

“Ha! Such cheek. Anyway, that horse never allowed anyone on its back. It was only used as a pack animal. But honestly, it’s too strong and smart to waste on that. Since you’ve tamed it, I’ll entrust it to you for the journey. But don’t get any ideas—it’s a loan, not a gift.”

Wait... they tested me with a horse that had never been ridden before?

I shot Syle an incredulous look, but he simply clapped his hands as if the matter was settled.

“Enough gawking! Get ready to leave, people! We’re not staying here forever!”

At his command, the previously relaxed members scrambled to pack their belongings. Not wanting to lag behind, I hurried to grab my things.

Syle might be strange, but I couldn’t afford to make a bad impression. For now, I’d do my best to stay on his good side.

Fortunately, I’d already packed my bag in advance.

“Kid,” Syle called out gruffly. “We’re leaving immediately. Once we head into the snowy plains, there’s no turning back. Say your goodbyes now—it’s your last chance.”

Though his words were gruff, I could sense a hint of consideration.

“Thank you.”

“Thank me later. Hurry up and finish your goodbyes—we won’t wait long.”

I gently tugged Zero’s reins, guiding the pony forward. The villagers had gathered, likely at the village chief’s request. But as I scanned the crowd, I noticed one absence.

Semna wasn’t there. Not anywhere.