Chapter 696: Epilogue - Beyond Civilization

In the northernmost reaches of the continent, beyond the farthest western edge, lay a snowy expanse. This land stretched out beyond a vast, unnamed mountain range, untouched by civilization even before the Gate Incident.

It was a polar region, where winter reigned eternally.

—Hey...! Over here!

A voice pierced through the howling blizzard, drawing the attention of a group of people.

Battling the relentless storm, five or six sturdy men soon arrived at the source of the voice. There, amidst the swirling snow, they found a fallen beast and a lone figure standing guard over it.

“Whew, that’s impressive. I haven’t seen one this big in almost three years,” one of them remarked, staring at the giant reindeer that lay fallen, an arrow perfectly lodged in its forehead.

“Let’s tie it up quickly,” another suggested. “If the snow piles up any more, we might be stuck in the shelter for days.”

Everyone set to work, wrapping ropes around the reindeer’s massive body. They knew that if the storm worsened, they could be trapped in the cabin for days, unable to return home.

“Even if

we

can’t make it back, we have to make sure Betten over here makes it. Despite all the snow piled up on his head.”

“Of course. We’ll make it back today, even if there’s an avalanche instead of just snow.”

Laughter rippled through the group, lightening the heavy atmosphere.

“If you don’t want Betten to freeze to death without ever seeing his child, let’s hurry up!”

The man named Betten chuckled at the joke and began securing the rope around the reindeer’s body so they could all pull it together.

In this frozen highland polar region, the group was all bundled up warmly, and each had a bow slung over their shoulder.

The man who seemed to be in charge of the group reached over to the blond man helping him tie the rope and gave him a pat on the back. That was the man who had shot and tracked down the reindeer.

“By the way, Radias, you’re quite the marksman.”

“Haha... You’re too kind.”

“You’re more than just a marksman, really. To hit a reindeer we couldn’t even see through the snow with a single arrow—that’s impressive. Honestly, I used to think you just shot your arrows randomly and made strange claims.”

None of the group had seen the reindeer. But Radias, with his keen eye, had drawn his bow and fired an arrow into the swirling blizzard before walking off confidently to where the fallen reindeer was.

Not only was he exceptionally skilled at finding prey, but his arrows always struck the vital spots.

“A nobleman, indeed,” the leader remarked.

Everyone nodded in agreement, and Betten, whose wife had gone into labor, repeatedly thanked Radias.

After securing the reindeer’s carcass, the group of men began to drag it back.

“By the way, Radias, isn’t it about time for you too?” someone asked.

“Time for what...?” Radias replied, a bit puzzled.

“For a child.”

“Oh...”

“Even clumsy Betten is becoming a father today, but you still don’t have a child of your own.”

Once one person started, others joined in.

There was a time for everything, and it seemed like it might be getting late.

“Your wife might be fine now, but won’t it be difficult for you both as you get older? You should get down to it before your energy starts to fade.”

Radias, the young man, just smiled awkwardly.

“By the way, wasn’t Violet supposed to help with the delivery today?”

“Ah, yes... I’m not entirely sure, but she did say she’d help however she could...” Radias replied. “Haha...”

Radias’s wife had offered to assist with Betten’s wife, who was delivering that day, but the men seemed uneasy about it.

“... Is there a problem?”

“Well... It’s just that it might not really be something for someone as delicate as your wife to deal with.”

Another man patted Radias on the shoulder. “She must be quite shaken.”

Radias looked puzzled.

“Still, it’s a good thing you’re a steadfast man. What made you decide to bring such a delicate wife to a place like this?”

Radias responded with a wry smile. “Ah... Haha... Yes... I might have pushed her a bit.”

Every time Radias heard such words, it felt as though a stone lodged itself in his throat.

This was a place that almost no one lived in, even at the height of human civilization. It was so far removed from the world that there were no warp gates, and thus no monsters from the dimension beyond the gates had ever made it here.

Vertus and Sabioleen Tana, now exiled, lived under new identities, beyond the reach of civilization.

Whenever Vertus heard someone remark that Sabioleen Tana, who was pretending to be his spouse, was a delicate woman, he couldn’t shake off the strange, indescribable feeling that washed over him.

***

The village nestled in the snowy field could hardly be considered small.

Given the harsh environment, a community of just over three hundred households living together was considered quite large.

The vast expanse surrounding the village, spanning about a thousand square kilometers, was uninhabited, and beyond the towering mountain range to the north, a frozen sea stretched endlessly into the horizon.

Vertus and Tana had intentionally chosen this desolate place. They hadn’t set out to seek such a harsh environment, but hiding had been impossible no matter which corner of civilization they found themselves in. Thus, they were always on the move.

Even in the most secluded areas, adventurers would sometimes stumble upon them. They fled to survive, and did not harm or kill anyone. But someone alive might send a message to someone, somewhere.

Thus, they resolved to find a place where civilization could not have taken root—a remote wilderness so deep that even monsters would not venture into. A place where neither humans, beasts, nor monsters could survive easily.

If they found such a place, Vertus and Tana believed they could remain hidden there forever. Therefore, they journeyed to the farthest edge of civilization.

To their surprise, though, they still found people living in this inhospitable land.

Despite the harsh conditions that kept outsiders away, the villagers welcomed Vertus and Tana with warmth and kindness. The villagers, who were shocked by their unexpected arrival, took care of them without hesitation.

They offered them a place to sleep, clothes to wear, and food to eat. No one questioned their reasons for coming. For the villagers, the snow-covered fields around them were the entire world. There were no countries, no histories, no nations.

Strangely shaped beasts had begun appearing, though no one knew exactly when. Still, the small but resilient kernel of humanity living in the heart of these snowy plains remained strong, even when faced with the occasional monster.

To them, the monsters were simply “inedible things” or “things that looked like they’d cause trouble if eaten.”

Therefore, when Tana and Vertus finally stumbled upon this small community in a place where civilization seemed impossible, they decided to stay.

It was a harsh place, yet full of affection. Cold, but never lonely. A place so distant from the rest of the world that its inhabitants knew nothing of what was out there.

Vertus learned a great deal. He discovered how to live and survive on the snowy plains. He learned what to do when isolated in the snow. He understood how beasts managed to survive in such an extreme environment, and how to find them. He now knew where temporary cabins for hunters were hidden among the trees.

In short, he had transformed his past hobby of hunting into a genuine skill for making a living.

“Whew... It was worth moving quickly; we’re already here.”

The group finally arrived at the snowy highland village, dragging the carcass of the reindeer Vertus had killed behind them. They usually avoided hunting on snowy days, but Betten, whose wife was about to give birth, had insisted on having a feast, so the village hunters had set out.

“Ellaaaaa!!!” Betten shouted as soon as they returned, sprinting toward his house.

He had gone hunting while his wife was in labor, and his worry had been immense.

“Radias, will you give it a shot this time?” the leader asked, though he already knew the answer.

He was talking about butchering.

Vertus still hadn’t gotten used to it, so the leader often tried to coax him into doing it whenever possible. His main aim seemed to be transforming the outsider Vertus into a true snowplains man.

“Ah, no. I’ll leave it to you, as always,” Vertus replied.

“Tsk. You’re good at everything else, but this task just doesn’t seem to click with you,” the leader remarked with a hint of frustration.

“Uh...” Vertus mumbled, unsure of how to respond. “I’m sorry.”

Radias was skilled with his hands, had a sharp eye, and acted swiftly. In many ways, he seemed perfect. Yet, when it came to butchering or skinning, he just couldn’t handle it.

To the men of the snowfields, Radias was a paradox—exceptionally talented, but always falling short in unexpected ways.

“Haha, I thought we’d see Radias get frustrated today, but it’s a shame,” one of the men joked as he worked on a bit of rope behind the leader.

Laughter erupted around them.

“Hahaha!”

“...”

“Radias” remained silent. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do it; he had tried several times.

The first time the leader had asked him to butcher an animal, he’d picked up the knife, unaware of what awaited him, and ended up in a sorry state.

Seeing the animal’s innards hadn’t troubled him at all. But when he saw the parasites that spilled out with the entrails, Vertus bolted from the butchering area and vomited. He could handle gruesome sights, but anything that was disgusting and filthy was beyond him.

The villagers had found it amusing, laughing and saying they’d never seen anyone quite like him.

After that incident, word spread throughout the village. The young outsider was rumored to have a peculiar constitution that made him vomit at the sight of blood.

Of course, that misunderstanding had since been cleared up, but there were still certain tasks Vertus couldn’t manage. And because of his experiences, he had come to understand something important.

In this mountain village, life wasn’t about having exceptional strength in one area. It wasn’t enough to just be skilled at hunting or tracking. In this polar region, one had to know how to do everything—hunting, butchering, cooking, starting a fire, gathering firewood—the list of tasks was endless.

At first, people had treated him as if he couldn’t do anything. But eventually, Vertus understood he had much to learn from everyone in the village, including from the women, and especially from the elders.

He found his place by using his strengths while others supported him with his weaknesses.

“There goes Betten. You should hurry too.”

“Yes,” Vertus replied, following Betten as the other man rushed off to his house.

Just then, someone emerged from the house.

Sabioleen Tana, known to the village as Violet, stumbled out into the open. Her once short hair now cascaded down to her waist, and was held together in a simple ponytail, a change that people often remarked on.

At first glance, she appeared to be a delicate woman.

“...?”

Vertus watched as Sabioleen Tana, her face ghostly pale as if her very essence had been sapped away, staggered and collapsed into the snow. This fragile figure was a stark contrast to the Sabioleen Tana the rest of the world knew.

“Ah... Aah...”

Was something serious happening?

“D-dear...?”

Vertus rushed over to Tana, who had collapsed on the ground, and she looked up at him with a blank expression. Her face was more than just pale; it had a bluish tint.

“Ah, ah... Ah...”

“I-is something wrong?” Vertus asked, concern etched in his voice.

“Ah, ah... No. It’s just... Ah...”

—Uuuugh! Ugh! Ugh! Argh!

Behind Tana, who stood trembling, the anguished cries of a woman in labor echoed from within Betten’s house.

The door creaked open, and the midwife poked her head out.

“It’s nothing serious, just a bit of a shock. Take her home, give her some warm water, and let her rest.”

“Sorry...?” Tana replied, her voice uncertain.

With that, the old woman shut the door, leaving Tana laying there, unsure of what to do next.

Vertus finally noticed that Tana’s eyes were darting about wildly.

What on earth had she seen?

“Th-that... dear... Th-the child... Th-that... How...? Ha, Huh... huh....H-how, how? H-huh? Huh?”

Tana was clearly trying to explain something, but she was trembling too much to get the words out. It wasn’t anything serious, but she had clearly witnessed something that had left her shaken.

Only then did Vertus understand why the other hunters had been more concerned about her than Betten’s wife, who was in labor. They had known that witnessing the childbirth itself would leave “Violet” in a daze.

Just as Vertus couldn’t stand parasites, Tana had her own weaknesses.

The hunters had been sure that “Violet,” who had a reputation for being clumsy, would find the sight of childbirth overwhelming.

“I’m... useless again...” Tana murmured, looking down at the ground.

Seeing her still trembling, Vertus gave a bitter smile.

“Let’s head back for now,” Vertus suggested gently.

“Yes...” Tana replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Holding onto the still-trembling Tana, Vertus guided her home.

***

Once inside, Vertus helped Tana onto the bed and handed her a cup of warm water.

He watched as she blew on the water to cool it, even though it wasn’t very hot, and took a sip. That small gesture brought a smile to his face.

Shortly after their arrival in the village, the locals had come together to build them a house. Despite the limited resources, they had worked tirelessly to gather materials and construct a home for the newcomers. Then, without any warning, the villagers had ushered the pair inside, insisting they make it their own.

Tana and Vertus hadn’t mentioned wanting to settle down, nor had they explained the reasons for their arrival. But the villagers had seemed to understand without them even needing to ask, and had built a house for Tana and Vertus.

With no other options, Tana and Vertus settled down.

Vertus tried to contribute to the village in various ways, and quickly realized how much he had yet to learn. And so, he began to acquire new skills.

Tana, however, struggled even more.

She couldn’t cook, and handling meat was beyond her. Sewing and working with leather were foreign to her. She didn’t know how to start a fire, and naturally, she was clueless about how to go about preserving food, which was essential in this environment. Even when assigned small tasks, she appeared lost and distressed.

She even found it difficult to play with the children. She often stood there with a perplexed smile, unsure of what to do with the children in front of her.

A woman with a pretty face, a kind heart, and gentle manners, yet utterly ineffective...

Still, she was endearing, and her bewildered antics amused everyone, making her quite entertaining.

The village women, who noted that her hands were so white, clean, and soft, envied her, remarking that it was obvious she had never done hard labor.

Though she was strong, people always stopped Tana from doing any heavy lifting, fearing she might injure herself. Thus, even when she wanted to contribute by doing something she was skilled in, people never gave her the chance due to their misconceptions about her. And when she expressed a desire to hunt, people laughed, assuming it was a joke, because of the clumsy image she had unintentionally cultivated.

All this was only natural. She had spent her life wielding a sword, after all, while the imperial family had always supported her in every aspect of life. Everything else seemed trivial to her, and somehow, things always worked out. She had never had to worry about such small matters.

Tana knew nothing beyond the sword, and had no sense of what work was. She had lived a single-minded life. She had only ever done what she excelled at, and in that regard, she was complete.

It was a wonder she didn’t break down in tears when someone like her was suddenly asked to tackle something entirely unrelated. Thus, when faced with any new task, she would still ask, “What is this?”

It was the same even if it was something she had been taught before. Despite being taught something, she just couldn’t do it well. Somehow, Tana was even more inept than Vertus, who had once been Emperor. That was the reality of Sabioleen Tana, formerly the empire’s strongest knight and the continent’s greatest swordsman.

“Have you calmed down a bit?”

“Yes...” Tana replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Once again, she had volunteered to assist the others in the village with a significant event—the birth of a child—only to be overwhelmed by the experience.

The midwife had kindly suggested that she head home and rest after the sight had been so overwhelming that it had left her trembling.

Tana was intimately familiar with the sight of death, and she had endured her fair share of grisly and gruesome sights. Yet, she had never before encountered the raw, awe-inspiring spectacle of life being born.

‘How? How could it be like this?’

Her mind swirled with questions and quivered in unexplained awe, and it was a wonder she hadn’t fainted from the sheer intensity of it all.

Vertus watched silently as Tana fiddled with the cup of water, trying to steady her breathing. He understood better than anyone how much she was struggling with the realization of her own limitations.

He offered her a faint smile. “It’s not easy.”

“Indeed...” she replied softly.

The villagers often chuckled, finding the couple’s formal way of speaking to each other endearing. No one questioned why they spoke so formally, nor did they ask if they were truly a couple.

At least Vertus was contributing to the village; his hunting skills were invaluable. But Sabioleen Tana still hadn’t found her place, and to the villagers, she seemed like nothing more than a clumsy, delicate woman.

No one in the village truly criticized Tana for her shortcomings. They might tease her gently, but never with any real malice. Everyone remembered the day she arrived, the sight etched in their minds like a vivid painting.

She had appeared in the middle of a blinding snowstorm, one so violent that it was hard to distinguish between people and snowdrifts, on the brink of collapse. Clenching her teeth, her eyes wide with determination, she was carrying the unconscious Vertus on her back.

Sabioleen Tana’s resolute expression that day had been etched in the minds of every villager who had seen her.

When asked how she had managed to find the village, Tana simply said she believed there was one nearby. She had heard the faint sounds of life. Yet, it had taken her over three days to reach them, guided only by that barely audible whisper through the storm.

That was why everyone said that, even though she was clumsy, even though she struggled with most things, even though she often caused trouble... she was still a remarkable person.

No one could look down on Sabioleen Tana.