The adventurer at the bottom is fantasizing again.

"Do these bodies need to be disposed of?"

Eileen stood beside Lorraine with a complicated expression. The wind blew her hair in front of her eyes, but she had no intention of brushing it away.

She suddenly felt that she couldn't understand him anymore.

Lorraine has always presented two different images to her.

One type is the penny-pincher who haggles over a few gold coins for ages, making you want to roll your eyes.

One was that he saved her at a critical moment, and the way he stood in front of her made her feel safe.

But the way he interrogated Gary just now reminded her of her own father.

When she was little, her father would meet with his subordinates who had done something wrong in his study, and the mischievous girl would often hide behind the bookshelf to peek.

Those people thought their father would be furious, disappointed, and, as rumored, smash a wine glass in their faces.

But my father would never do that.

He would simply watch them silently, waiting for them to gradually reveal their cards and fears before calmly deciding their fate.

The image of Lorraine squatting in front of the merchant overlapped with the image of her father sitting behind his desk in her memory in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on.

So that's what he's like.

"Although it doesn't rot easily in winter, it's best to deal with it. It would be bad if a plague broke out, or if any small animals were brought into the city, many people would die."

Lorraine's voice reached Eileen's ears, pulling her thoughts back to reality.

She turned to look at him.

He was rubbing his chin, frowning as he examined the corpses, muttering to himself, "But digging a hole in this weather isn't practical."

It seems that things have suddenly returned to normal.

"Huh? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Lorraine looked down and saw her resentful eyes, then quickly glanced at her hair.

[...feeling uneasy]

What is this woman thinking now?

"It's nothing, let's hurry up and pack, it'll be dark soon," Eileen said, shaking her head.

Lorraine didn't press the matter further, knowing that when a woman said something like that, he usually couldn't get any answers from her.

"Let's move, let's move..."

He bent down and got to work.

Flames rise.

The scorching flames licked at the piled-up objects, obliterating all traces and leaving only embers.

The three of them set off again, pulling the cart.

The paths in the misty forest are not suitable for carts; the uneven terrain can easily cause the wheels to get stuck.

Lorraine gripped the handlebars tightly, already able to imagine how much effort those goblins had put in to move this thing here.

The mission reward is 40 gold coins, plus bounties from the goblins and bears, and with the supplies, they can be sold for at least a hundred gold coins. Each of them can probably get seventy or eighty gold coins.

We've struck it rich!!!

The thought of gold coins reminded Lorraine of the spell scrolls Gary had mentioned, and he nudged Eileen, who was lost in thought, with his elbow.

"Eileen, do you know how to cast spell scrolls?"

This guy is really...

Eileen was still lost in her own thoughts when he suddenly interrupted her, leaving her unsure of where to begin.

She rubbed her temples with a hint of helplessness and said:

"This is a required course for most mages, otherwise they wouldn't be able to afford the expensive spellcasting materials they use every day. Even some minor nobles can't afford these things."

She suddenly seemed to remember something, a slight smile playing on her lips. She glanced sideways at Lorraine and said:

"But what does that have to do with a sorcerer like you who can't even recite a spell?"

"Alright, alright, you just wait!" Lorraine turned her face away angrily. "I'll learn it sooner or later!"

When that time comes, he will definitely prove himself and shut that girl up.

......

Piper's stomach is rumbling...

The short man weakly pulled on the handle of the cart, almost hanging on it, but thankfully his weight didn't allow him to do so.

The journey back was longer than expected. The cart, loaded with goods, was incredibly heavy. By the time the three of them reached the outskirts of Frost Valley, it was already evening two days later.

The entry into the city went exceptionally smoothly this time.

The newly appointed guards didn't want to make things difficult for them, and after lifting the tarpaulin and seeing the goblin's head, they became even more polite.

He waved his hand to signal them to let them through, skipping even the routine questioning.

They passed through the city gate, walked a short distance, and then all three of them stopped at the same time.

"Have we gone to the wrong place?"

Lorraine stared at the scene before her in astonishment.

The streets, which are usually pitch black at night, are now as bright as day. The lampposts on both sides of the road are covered with orange oil lamps, stretching from the city gate to the end of the line of sight.

The streets were packed with people.

A merchant in a thick wool coat, an adventurer in old leather armor, a child in a pointed hat, an old man leaning on a cane...

The crowd poured out from every alleyway, merging into the main street and flowing slowly in the same direction.

The expressions on their faces were remarkably similar, a relaxed and joyful feeling as if they had temporarily set aside the hardships and fatigue of the past year.

"Pip sees it! There's a march ahead!"

The short boy stood on the cart's wheels, tiptoed, and stretched his neck.

Lorraine followed his gaze.

At the end of the street, a bright flame was slowly moving towards them.

People held the burning pine branches high, and the aroma of the burning pine branches mixed with the bitterness of holly permeated the air above the entire street.

Lorraine's gaze was drawn to the person walking at the very front.

Anya wore a pale gold robe embroidered with intricate and beautiful gold patterns.

These patterns, like decorations on ancient scrolls, make her appear both gentle and sacred.

Her long, golden-brown hair was casually draped over her shoulders, fluttering gently in the air as the wind blew.

She held a long torch in her hand, with a bright flame burning at the top.

She walked at the very front of the light, humming a song that Lorraine had never heard before.

"In this season when the frost has ceased and all things slumber,"

And hang holly and ivy high on the door lintel.

The eternally burning sacred wood whispered in the hearth.

Dispel the long night and await the first rays of dawn.

Firelight, leaping towards the heavens!

Bring back the days of our distant travels, bring back the glory of spring.

Melt this iron-cast darkness into morning dew.

Let the frozen earth regain its heart.

Her voice wasn't loud; it was more like a soft murmur.

But when this song is repeated by hundreds of people, it converges into a loud and warm river.

They filled the winter chill and filled the nights of Frost Valley.

At this moment, all the hardships of making a living and the barriers of social class seemed to be melted away by this pure, ancient light and warmth.

The longest night of winter is over, and the sun is coming back.

"This is......"

"Midwinter Festival".