The massive eastern gates of the Estate slowly opened, revealing the city road stretching toward Ravenhold’s outer districts.

A cold wind swept through the entrance as the extermination squad began moving forward. Horses trotted across the stone bridge connecting the Estate grounds to the city roads while supply wagons followed close behind, snow drifting lazily through the air above them. The procession moved through the quieter streets of the Inner District first, then into the broader avenues of the Outer District, where early-morning traders paused to watch the column pass. By the time they reached Ravenhold’s outer gates and turned onto the northern road, the city’s familiar sounds had already faded behind them.

Ethan rode near the center of the formation. This was his first time seeing the Ancient Wildlands through the eyes of his younger self. In his previous life, these roads had become so familiar that he had stopped paying attention to them — he had marched across them countless times during campaigns against monster hordes and northern incursions. Yet now, with the memories of a second lifetime behind him, everything felt strangely different.

The frontier seemed quieter. More peaceful. More alive. For now.

Several hours later, the road passed through one of the villages bordering the outer edge of the Ancient Wildlands. Unlike the settlements within Ravenhold’s own districts, these northern villages possessed a rugged simplicity — thick wooden walls surrounded clusters of stone and timber houses, watchtowers stood near the entrances, and every villager old enough to hold a weapon carried one. Life on the north demanded it, and the people here had adapted accordingly over generations.

The arrival of the Ravencrest extermination squad immediately drew attention. Villagers emerged from homes and workshops as the formation passed through the settlement. Some bowed respectfully. Others simply watched. Children pointed excitedly toward the armored knights.

Smoke rose from stone chimneys despite the early hour. Several hunters were repairing traps beside the wooden palisade while women carried buckets of water from a half-frozen well. The village was small, perhaps only a few hundred people, yet every structure showed signs of constant maintenance.

"They’re Ravencrest knights."

"My father said they kill monsters every winter."

"Look at the armor."

"They must be heading north."

The conversations blended together as the formation continued through the village. Ethan noticed something many outsiders often overlooked — the expressions of the villagers. There was respect, trust, and relief in equal measure. House Ravencrest was not simply a noble family in the North. They were protectors. For generations, Ravencrest warriors had fought and died so these villages could continue existing, and the title Shield of the North had not been earned through words.

It had been earned through blood.

As the village disappeared behind them, Roland guided his horse alongside Ethan. A few younger apprentices riding farther back watched the interaction curiously — one appeared around fourteen, another perhaps fifteen, their attention lingering on Ethan longer than they probably intended.

Ethan pretended not to notice. Ever since reaching the Knight Realm, such reactions had become increasingly common.

The veteran knight glanced toward the retreating settlement before speaking. "First time seeing the frontier villages outside Ravenhold?"

"In person, yes."

Roland smiled. "You’ll see hundreds of places like that if you stay in the North long enough." His gaze shifted toward the distant forests. "And every one of them depends on us."

The words carried no arrogance, only responsibility. Ethan understood exactly what he meant — in his previous life, he had spent years carrying that same burden, the burden of protecting people who would never know his name, of standing between civilization and the monsters beyond its borders.

A short distance ahead, Gareth rode at the head of the formation. Despite appearing focused on the surrounding wilderness, the Earth Knight occasionally glanced toward the center of the formation — most expedition leaders kept an eye on their youngest members, though Gareth wasn’t entirely certain Ethan belonged in that category anymore. His gaze continuously scanned the surrounding terrain while scouts moved ahead of the main group, and nothing escaped his attention. That vigilance was one of the reasons he had survived so many years on the frontier.

As midday approached, the settlements became less frequent and civilization gradually gave way to wilderness. The road narrowed. Snow-covered hills rose around them. Towering pine forests stretched across the landscape like an endless sea of white and green. The deeper they traveled into the Ancient Wildlands, the fewer signs of human habitation remained until eventually even the road disappeared, leaving only a narrow trail ahead.

The squad continued forward in disciplined silence. This was no longer protected territory. This was monster territory.

The atmosphere subtly shifted — conversations became quieter, the apprentices grew more alert, and even the horses seemed to sense the change. Ethan observed everything calmly. Tracks occasionally appeared in the snow. Small animals. Wild beasts.

A sudden movement among the trees caused several apprentices to instinctively tighten their grips on their weapons. A snow hare darted between the pines before disappearing into the undergrowth, and the tension immediately vanished. A few embarrassed smiles appeared among the younger members of the expedition.

Roland chuckled. "Better that than missing a real threat."

Several apprentices nodded. No one argued. On the frontier, caution was never a weakness.

Hours passed as the formation continued north. The sun gradually descended toward the horizon, shadows stretched across the snowy landscape, and the temperature dropped noticeably. Finally, Gareth raised a hand and the entire formation stopped immediately.

"We camp here."

The order spread quickly through the squad, and everyone immediately moved into action. Tents were unpacked, perimeter positions were established, firewood was gathered, supply wagons were arranged into defensive positions. Within minutes, a temporary camp had begun taking shape with the efficiency of soldiers who had performed the same task hundreds of times before.

Ethan watched quietly. This was experience — the kind that could not be taught inside training grounds.

As darkness settled over the forest, small campfires gradually illuminated the snow-covered clearing. The first day of the expedition had ended peacefully. Yet Ethan knew better than most that peace rarely lasted long in the Ancient Wildlands. And when that moment came, the real expedition would begin.