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As time passed, the flowers that had bloomed all summer fell, and the once vibrant green leaves withered to brown.

Many students began to leave one by one, following the adventurers from the guild. There was no such thing as a graduation ceremony, and that was simply how they graduated. It was an era where even the concept of holding an event to commemorate graduation didn’t exist.

Volka, Molty, Lara, and Delphi were the first to leave, and when it began to snow, Ice, Jerome, Menson, and Falen also departed.

The farewells were dry and emotionless. There were no tearful embraces or anything like that. There wasn’t even a need to show regret outwardly.

They just smiled, wishing each other good luck. They parted, promising to meet again.

Molty had said he was quitting being an adventurer and would continue working at the blacksmith shop, so they could often see him when they went to the city. That was a relief.

The empty spaces left by those who departed weren’t filled immediately. While new students did trickle in steadily, the real influx of newcomers usually started in the spring.

The remaining students had to endure the winter. Winter was a season of rest but also a season of survival—enduring the cold, hunger, and loneliness.

At the Beringen Academy, because many students lived together, loneliness wasn’t an issue, but the cold and hunger were inescapable.

The firewood ran out quickly, making it difficult to keep the fire going, and even the free, hard bread had run out.

They had to find ways to feed themselves, but no matter where one went, it was a time when food was scarce, so even going to the city wouldn’t guarantee any provisions.

In addition, finding work was hard. The jobs they managed to secure only paid in rotten potatoes or a handful of grain instead of wages.

Students who had stockpiled food during the summer and fall were in a slightly better situation, but the real problem lay with those who had no stored supplies.

These students tried to fill their stomachs with ice-cold water, dug up roots to eat, or ventured out to the fields in hopes of catching a field mouse or rabbit. That’s how they managed to scrape by.

Ricardt and Boribori had enough salted meat, cheese blocks, and grain stored to get by, but it was impossible to turn a blind eye to those starving and falling ill right next to them.

It wasn’t easy to gather everyone’s food and distribute it evenly—what reason could justify taking away the hard-earned provisions of students who had worked diligently to secure them?

At the same time, giving away what little they had would leave them with too little, and they couldn’t starve themselves just to help others.

The winter food shortage was something even the Court Count couldn’t solve. His own territory’s people were starving as well.

Still, they had to do what they could.

Ricardt donned a thick gambeson, wrapped a cloak around himself, and prepared to head out.

He strapped a dagger to his waist and slung a longsword over one shoulder. As if determined to do something serious, he also packed extra provisions and, along with Boribori, headed outside.

Before stepping out, he glanced back. In the room, all the students were huddled together under blankets, trembling near the fireplace. They had to conserve firewood, so they were forced to stay close together.

The sick students were gathered in another room, coughing weakly as they sweated inside their blankets. Recently, the students’ daily task had been to check each morning if anyone had died.

“Let’s go.”

Ricardt said. Boribori, wearing a hood, followed in silence. It seemed that winter froze even the innocent smile of a young boy.

A ‘side sword’, a one-handed sword, hung quietly from Boribori’s waist.

As they left the academy and descended the cliff, snow fell endlessly from the gray sky, covering the world in white. The snow-covered fields stretched out before them, an awe-inspiring sight.

It was so beautiful that they felt like questioning if it was right for the world to look like this when they were struggling so much.

As they finished descending the cliff, footprints in the snow stretched westward, and Ricardt and Boribori walked across the vast snowy plain, listening to the gentle sound of the snow piling up.

Crunch. Crunch…

After walking for six hours, they arrived in Beringen, shook the snow off their heads and shoulders in front of the main building, and stepped inside.

When the door opened, warm air rushed in, and as the muscles of Ricardt’s frozen face began to thaw, his mind felt dazed.

The adventurers inside turned their heads to see who had suddenly opened the door. Rather than recognizing his face, they identified him by his build and the red cloak he wore, and soon lost interest.

Ricardt was a somewhat well-known figure in Beringen and the surrounding areas. He was called the ‘Red-cloaked Boy Swordsman’, or more commonly, “Ricky the Severer.” It was because every time he fought someone, their sword would inevitably break.

Dunkel, who had his elbow propped up on the bar and his chin resting in his hand, glanced at Ricardt before subtly averting his eyes. As if Ricardt wouldn’t notice that he was avoiding his gaze.

Ricardt closed the door with a thud, walked over to him, and said,

“I’m not here to borrow food again.”

Since he had come to borrow food not once but several times, and knowing that Dunkel was troubled each time, Ricardt made it clear from the start that he had no such intention.

Dunkel slowly turned his head to look at Ricardt.

“Then what brings you here?”

“I was wondering if there’s any work. Something big enough to earn enough money so that the students can get through winter without freezing or starving.”

Dunkel looked at Ricardt quietly, thinking. Why on earth does he care about others’ situations? What does it have to do with him?

Dunkel didn’t think Ricardt was kind or had some noble nature—he just couldn’t understand it. He himself had always lived solely for his own benefit.

“There’s always work…”

“Really? What kind?”

“Well… sigh… The elder is the elder, but the guild has its own stance to consider too, Ricky.”

Dunkel seemed to have something uncomfortable he couldn’t say. And it seemed that because he knew who Ricardt’s patron was, it made things even more awkward for him.

“What’s the issue? Is it that you don’t trust me? Or did I cause some trouble before?”

“That’s not it. I know how great you are, and everyone here knows it too. But the thing is, there are jobs you just can’t hand out easily. Like that deserter mission last time—something went wrong midway, but the job itself wasn’t that difficult, was it?”

“True.”

“But some jobs… How should I put this… It’s not just about how hard it is. There are jobs where failure isn’t an option. To put it more bluntly, if you fail, it’s none of our business. To be even more specific, if you fail, you’ll just die a dog’s death. You get what I mean?”

“…Is it assassination?”

As Rickard mouthed the word, Dunkel gestured for him to follow. Then he entered a door behind the bar that only authorized personnel could go through.

Ricardt and Boribori exchanged glances and followed him inside. The room wasn’t anything special. The only thing that stood out was the shelves lined with bottles of liquor.

There was a backless chair, and Dunkel sat on it before continuing the conversation. Cold wind whistled through the gap in the door, making a whooshing sound.

“Have you heard of the Ernburg Five? Their leader, Steiner, is one of the Empire’s Nine Swords.”

“I’ve heard of them.”

“Among that five-man group are ‘The Experimenter’ Reto and ‘The Skin Collector’ Erze. The job is to kill those two bastards. You can kill more if you want, though… actually, that’s impossible.”

Taking down just two members of a group that always moved as five was incredibly difficult. In reality, it meant having to deal with the entire group. Even for Ricardt, it was hard to guarantee success in such a mission.

However, a simple assassination request wouldn’t earn enough to feed nearly a hundred students through the winter. To achieve that, they’d need to take on a mission of the highest difficulty.

“Those five bastards have been operating around Ernburg, making plenty of enemies wherever they go. In other words, there have been many people waiting to get revenge on them for a long time. But everyone who has tried to take down the five has either died or failed miserably.”

In short, they were untouchable. You couldn’t just mobilize an army to capture five men, and even if you did, they’d simply flee.

“What kind of things have they done to deserve that?”

“Look, in this line of work, no one’s really a good guy or a bad guy, but those guys? They’re villains through and through. If they want something, they take it. They kill. They handle the dirty work for nobles, get protection in return, then turn on those same nobles and flee. They live by their own twisted rules. Reto, ‘The Experimenter,’ enjoys torturing people. Erze, ‘The Skin Collector,’ peels off people’s skin and wears it. Oh, and by the way, they call themselves adventurers too, though they’re not affiliated with any guild. The fact that they’re still alive has completely tarnished the reputation of adventurers.”

Dunkel spoke as if he had a personal grudge against the five-man group.

“Hmm, well, it doesn’t sound like there’s any issue with killing them. Good enough for me.”

“No, no. Did you even listen to what I said? The problem isn’t whether they deserve to die—it’s whether you can kill them. If you fail, and they find out we’re behind it, the guild will be in deep trouble. It’s hard enough competing with rival guilds as it is, and you want us to risk getting on the bad side of one of the Empire’s Nine Swords?”

“You’re certain that if I handle this, we’ll get enough supplies to last through the winter? Food and firewood?”

Dunkel thought to himself, ‘This bastard clearly isn’t listening to me at all’. But there was nothing he could do. He knew Ricardt’s true identity, so he couldn’t exactly scold or refuse him. He started to regret even bringing it up. He’d only mentioned it in the first place because Ricardt had pestered him so often about borrowing food.

“That’s guaranteed. Several organizations have secretly pooled a massive fund. There are even groups that have agreed to pay in goods from the start.”

“Then I’ll get started right away, but could you lend me some food in advance as a down payment? Don’t send it to me, send it to the academy.”

“…But do you really need to go this far? I can guarantee you, there’s never been anyone like you in the academy’s history.”

Ricardt answered with a slight smile.

“I don’t act out of necessity. If I want to do something, and if I can do something, then I do it.”

“…I see.”

Dunkel seemed unconvinced.

“Well, at least there’s work to do. That’s a relief.”

“No. There’s always someone who wants someone dead. Doesn’t matter the season. Whether it’s spring, winter, rain, or snow.”

“…I guess so.”

It was a bitter reality. There would always be someone who wanted someone dead. As long as humans existed, that fact would never change.

“Where do I need to go in Ernburg?”

“First, follow the road southwest until you come across an inn called ‘Anna’s Loss’. When you get there, show them your cloak pin and tell them I sent you. They’ll give you the information about the job.”

“It’s not a guild branch?”

“No, it’s the thieves’ guild. The Arisen Brotherhood. Given the nature of this job, we can’t openly be involved. And let me be clear—officially, we know nothing about this.”

Ricardt looked at Boribori. Boribori was simply staring blankly at Dunkel.

Dunkel thought Boribori was just tagging along to assist Ricardt, not as a real asset, but as someone to run errands or offer support.

“You alright with this?”

Ricardt asked.

“I’m fine. As long as I’m with you, Ricky. Even if I die, I don’t care.”

To Boribori, Ricardt was like a beacon of light. He had pulled him out of the swamp that was his miserable life.

Even if he were to lose his life, he couldn’t afford to lose that light. Boribori knew all too well that there was nothing more wretched than living out of mere obligation.

“No, that…”

“To be honest, having a student handle this is a pretty good option for our guild. Most of our usable operatives are too well-known. Ricky, you’re the perfect fit. But don’t even think about facing them head-on. That would be a death sentence. The Nine Swords aren’t child’s play. These guys are infamous across the entire Empire.”

Dunkel said. Though Ricardt was well-known, it was only within Beringen and its surrounding areas. The difference between him and one of the Empire’s Nine Swords was like the difference between a local celebrity and a national figure.

After all, Ricardt was still a rising talent, far from solidifying his position as the strongest in the region.

“I’ll handle that my own way.”

“…Are you seriously not listening to me?”

“I’m listening to the important parts.”

“…”

Dunkel couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But the fact remained that Ricardt’s unique attitude was matched by his extraordinary talent.

“It’ll take a full day to get there, so stay the night. Leave in the morning. I’ll send the down payment… to the academy.”

Ricardt nodded, left the room, and headed upstairs with Boribori. They loosened their gear and lay down to rest on the beds.

Ricardt gazed out at the falling snow. But the white snow couldn’t fill the hollow feeling left by the departure of his friends. If anything, it only deepened the emptiness.

Suddenly, Boribori caught his attention. It had been months since they started training together through sparring sessions.

Boribori’s unique swordsmanship seemed practical enough to Ricardt, but it was still uncertain how it would fare in real combat.

In real battles, it wasn’t just skill that mattered; keeping calm, not being afraid, and avoiding freezing up were just as crucial. Ricardt wondered if this pure-hearted boy could really kill someone.

Boribori didn’t seem to match the cold, eerie energy that naturally accompanied the sword.

“Aren’t you scared?”

“No. It doesn’t matter if I die.”

“Why?”

“Because when I left my mom behind, I already thought of myself as dead. Now, I just want to be useful to you, Ricky. That’s all I’m thinking about. I won’t be a burden.”

“…Don’t say it like that.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I just… I hope winter passes quickly.”

Ricardt turned his gaze back to the snow outside and agreed with him.

“So do I.”

Boribori knew why they were doing this, and why they had to.

Watching the other students starve, slowly wasting away and dying, was unbearable. What had they done to deserve such a fate? What on earth did they do so wrong that these boys and girls had to die?

But it wasn’t just the academy students. Throughout the Empire, people were freezing and starving to death. That was the nature of this season—winter. It was merciless.

The silently falling snow wasn’t purely beautiful. The spirit of death must surely be white.