Her tolerance for pain was strong; she would never cry, scream, or call for help because of it.

Even if she were covered in blood or divided by death.

"Actually, sometimes even I wonder what our boss looked like when she was a child."

What kind of life had she experienced to become the person she was today?

What was Hannah’s past like?

At six years old, she was alone; by twelve, she had found her way to the imperial royal family.

But what about those six years in between?

What had she gone through?

The night was bone-chillingly cold; the noise gradually subsided.

The half-moon hung in the sky, stars dotted about, like frost congealing on dead trees.

It was extremely cold.

Arnold Simmons returned to his tent and looked at the pink plush rabbit placed beside the bed.

His eyes lowered, his expression indecipherable.

Like the sea water beneath dark clouds.

All he saw was pitch black.

He had never thought that after they had parted that year, she had endured so much alone.

He had come back too late.

...

When the desolation went to find Arnold Simmons, the tent was already empty.

The night passed exceptionally long and yet exceptionally short.

Gregory Lawrence was drunk and fell asleep at once.

Sleeping by the fire, he didn’t worry about light.

Along with him, several others were also drunk, each hugging a wine jar and talking in their sleep.

Half drunk, half awake, Sixth Hoffman found Nicholas and started bawling loudly.

"When will the boss come back, why doesn’t she let me follow her..."

He hiccuped as he wept.

Nicholas kicked him away, "Bring you along, to cause trouble?"

"How am I causing trouble?" Sixth Hoffman, a robust man, sat on the ground, crying sadly.

Who says they weren’t worried or upset?

Hannah went to the Lost Realm, and it wasn’t easy for this band of wanderers either.

But they had lived like this for so many years.

No matter what danger stood ahead, Hannah would always solve it herself first.

Several times she was on the brink of death, but each time she managed to turn the situation around.

So these people trusted her.

They believed Hannah would definitely come back alive.

Drunk and hazy, Sixth Hoffman started muttering again, "You remember when our boss first arrived, such a cute and beautiful little girl? How loveable she must have been as a child, now the older she gets, the more..."

The more what?

Sixth Hoffman couldn’t finish the thought.

Nicholas, with a cigarette between his lips, remained silent.

Everyone had their own path to walk.

It was a blessing to find someone to rely on along the way.

But ultimately, everyone comes alone and leaves alone.

Hannah just understood and truly accepted this fact sooner than anyone else.

*

Wayne Lane led his men, tracking Hannah’s footsteps, to Mount Walters.

Emma wanted to move forward, but Wayne Lane ordered the team to stop.

Even when out on a mission, Emma still dressed impeccably.

A luxurious dress, an extravagant fur shawl, and a gemstone necklace dangling around her neck—she wouldn’t go without.

The pampered noble princess spoke arrogantly, a trait innate to her, especially noticeable when she was angry, "Why not continue the pursuit? Hannah might be right ahead."

Urgency filled her eyes, her words questioning.

A nearby soldier could only lower his head and respond, "The orders from the commander were to halt the advance."

She ran off to find Wayne Lane.

Behind the man there was snow, which matched well with his defined profile, particularly so in his deep blue combat uniform.