FACING IT HEAD ON

Two weeks had passed by until Wyn's transfer to the military was set in place.

The moment the snow deity was brought out of the basement prison, he was locked in spiritual shackles to stifle his energy flow once again. He could feel the cool metal hugging his wrists tight, keeping him powerless to do anything.

The guards murmured among themselves, preparing for the journey to the barracks.

A crowd had gathered in front of the Chastity Tower—fourteen men surrounding him, ready to escort the criminal. Two of them were officials with stern faces, wearing cloaks. Wyn could not decide whether the level of security was honorable or absurd.

Although the journey was not particularly long, with his spiritual energy restricted, Wyn felt drained. In such state, three guards would have been enough to ensure he would not escape. Perhaps it simply proved how highly the officials thought of his skills.

As soon as they had moved quite a distance away from the tower, marching through a forest on the way to the barracks, a familiar voice called out in a whisper. At first he thought he had imagined it, but then he heard it again.

"Psst! Wynnie!"

Wyn lifted his gaze from the ground, cautiously looking around. He spotted a dark curl poking out from the official's cloak next to him. His lips parted in a pleasant surprise, but he stuffed it back down.

Who would have thought that catching sight of the disciple after two long weeks could stir up such unexpected joy?

He kept an impassive expression to make sure he stayed as unsuspecting as possible. If anyone caught Marshall, Wyn would have been able to do nothing with the shackles restricting his spiritual energy.

The snow deity squinted at him, signaling to stay away. But the disciple was either ignorant or ignored him on purpose, subtly moving closer.

Marshall whispered, "Should I kidnap you?"

Wyn cast a quick glance at the guards around him. Despite the large number, their formation was far from perfect. They seemed relaxed, not anticipating any trouble.

If he were in a better condition, with Cheimon on him, he could have easily handled the ambush. However, in his current state, a surprise attack would spell disaster. Wyn squinted again, this time with clear denial. Marshall looked at him thoughtfully, smiling. The denial was rejected.

"Just stick with me," he urged with a whisper, giving a subtle nod.

With a deft movement, the disciple placed his hand over the shackles. Wyn felt a surge of demonic energy, followed by a sharp snap as the metal shattered into chunks. The guards reacted immediately, outraged shouts echoing as they encircled the two criminals.

As the guards closed in, Marshall stepped in front of Wyn. With a confident swipe of his hand, another surge of demonic energy gushed out, the air filling with dread.

Strangely, an overwhelming fear washed over the snow deity. His brows arched in bafflement—he had never been one to be swayed by threats, so why...

The extended energy summoned four large demons to Marshall's side, one of them wearing a lion mane.

It only took a few growls for the guards to fall back. They stumbled into each other in their haste to escape the demons, forgetting about the task of transporting a criminal.

Wyn watched as the demons chased the guards around with no serious intent to cause harm. It was more like a cat and mouse chase than anything else.

Chuckling at the scene, Marshall took the snow deity's hand, and pulled him through the chaotic throng of soldiers, off the trail and into the forest.

"I bet they didn't see that coming," he said with a satisfied grin.

Wyn was stunned by the scene he had just seen, but more so, the unusual terror. How had Marshall achieved that? He glanced down at his wrists, now free of the shackles. Gradually, his spiritual energy began coursing through his body anew.

"What did you just do?"

"Hehe." Marshall cast a contented glance back. "I've been practicing."

As they sprinted through the woods, the disciple kept looking back at Wyn, eager to gauge his reaction. From time to time, the icy eyes darted from side to side at a nearby sound, earning a quiet snicker from the disciple.

"Your control seems steady now, but something has changed," the snow deity remarked.

Marshall nodded, his eyes holding an eager spark, "I found out I could inflict certain emotions using demonic energy. Best part—it's not limited to demons only," he explained vaguely.

The chance to tease Wyn was not lost on him either as he hummed, "And it looks like even you couldn't escape the fear."

Instead of reacting to the joke, Wyn took note of the dark circles under the disciple's eyes. His brows arched dubiously. "You have been staying up at night to practice."

"Eh... Well, demons are most active at night..." Marshall shrugged, flashing a grin. "Come on, let's keep going before the guards chase after us!"

Although Wyn did not agree with the mindset of 'end justifies the means', he knew that the other would insist on proving himself right. Arguing was pointless. Still, seeing that Marshall was pushing himself too hard, he could not let it slide.

"Your progress is impressive," he admitted before continuing, "however—"

"No, no," Marshall interrupted, wagging his finger impishly. "You can't judge your savior. I freed you, so no criticism!"

Wyn sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Stubborn to no end," he muttered.

They kept their pace steady, childish chuckling ringing on the way occasionally. It was hard not to be amused by the disciple's upbeat attitude. Although Wyn could not help but wonder whether it was Marshall's attempt to cheer up him. 

Fuzzy bits of snow twirled between the trees as they hurried along, and Marshall's eyes found Wyn's with a teasing question, "Is this your way of celebrating freedom?"

"The snow is not my doing," Wyn denied. "My spiritual energy has not fully recovered yet. In addition..."

He had been stripped of his title as the Keeper of Snow. Right before winter. It would snow thanks to Lord Chioni. It was a bit disappointing. The disciple's joy was not caused by him.

"In addition...?" Marshall mumbled, staring at the sky in awe. 

Seeing that the disciple was too distracted to notice he was heading straight into a tree, Wyn tugged him sideways. "Watch where you step."

Marshall let out a laugh, but kept looking up like a child. "I can't believe it's the first snow already," he commented, reaching to catch a cluster of snowflakes with his free hand.

However, his expression abruptly faded into a tense frown as his pace slowed. It was as if he had heard or seen something out of place.

The playful manner was abandoned as he turned to Wyn. "Do you sense it too?"