It's really dark. Did I…Damon was surprised by how calm he felt.
His sight was completely obscured by an expanse of pitch darkness, yet strangely, he could still hear the steady, rhythmic beating of his heart.
No, maybe I'm not dead yet…As that comforting thought ran through his mind, the profound silence was shattered by the tolling of a massive, distant bell.
A sudden wave of warmth enveloped his frozen body, and a pressure built up inside his ears until they felt like they would violently rupture.
A few seconds later, the phantom noise stopped completely. Damon abruptly sat up, his eyes snapping open as his surroundings rushed into focus.
He found himself drenched in cold sweat, lying on a modest bed positioned in the dead center of a quiet room.
Where am I now…?Damon took a shallow breath and fell into deep contemplation.
It was as if the gruesome scene in the snow had been nothing more than a vivid nightmare; however, the unmistakable, metallic taste of blood still lingered on his tongue—subtle proof of the agonizing reality he had just endured.
Glancing around, he noticed the room's architecture was constructed from the exact same ancient materials as the ruined temple from his encounter. At the same time, his eyes spotted a polished, oval-shaped mirror hanging precariously from the far wall. Its borders were adorned with intricate redwood carvings depicting tigers and twisting, serpentine beasts.
Yet, what caught his attention most was the stranger looking back at him from the glass.
A white-haired youth of medium build with pristine copper skin and striking blue eyes stared back at him. But the most impossible detail was that he somehow possessed two functional hands instead of an empty, bleeding stump.
"How is this possible…?" Damon's brows shot upward as a sharp gasp escaped his lips.
Struggling against his stiff muscles to raise his arms, he decided to slowly rest them on his lap for a closer inspection. Soon after, he was left entirely speechless. Instead of raw flesh riddled with savage bite marks, jagged scars, and severe swelling, he discovered both limbs were perfectly normal and unblemished.
Wait… if these are healed, what about my back...?Damon's confusion deepened, but he forced himself to maintain an open mind.
Naturally, without the full flexibility of his limbs, he had no proper way to reach behind himself to confirm his hunch. Thus, he resorted to shifting his torso sideways repeatedly against the mattress, hoping to agitate any hidden wounds.
Just then, the distinct sound of wood clattering against the floorboards echoed from the hallway, followed by steady footsteps nearing the room.
That must be the old woman...Damon's expression paled instantly, betraying a lingering trace of fear.
While intrigued by his savior, he could not deny that he was deeply terrified of her capabilities. A vivid memory fragment of the massive apex tiger's head being sliced cleanly into two halves flashed past his mind as he tried to reconcile her harmless appearance.
Unconsciously, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he kept his eyes locked on the sliding entrance door, which was beginning to make a subtle rattling noise.
The reinforced paper panel slid smoothly to the right, revealing a kindly, nicely aged face. "Oh? I'm surprised you're up already, considering..."
Her words trailed off near the end of the sentence, but Damon knew exactly what she meant. He shifted his gaze defensively as the old woman leaned forward, removing a pair of traditional wooden slippers before closing the door and stepping onto the tatami floor.
She then quietly walked toward a low wooden table in front of the bed and unfastened the weapon tucked tightly at her waist. Then, with a single, practiced motion, she drew the slender blade from its wooden casing.
Is she going to attack me!?Damon's entire body grew instantly tense.
As if she had sensed his sudden panic and took amusement in it, a faint smile formed at the corners of the woman's lips. She lowered the bare blade to the table, then began sharpening the thin sword against a small, palm-sized whetstone block. Her delicate movements and calm demeanor were breathtaking as the steel glided smoothly across the wet stone.
Upon taking a deep breath to force his racing heart to relax, he could see her features much more clearly. Her long hair was pale silver with thin bangs that complemented her face, framing stern black eyes that studied the blade's edge with absolute focus.
Who is this woman…?Damon pressed his lips tightly together in thought, cautiously pulling his knees closer to his chest. She had single-handedly saved his life and miraculously tended to his fatal injuries, but his instincts whispered that his savior was far more dangerous than she appeared.
"Relax, child. I'm not going to bite." Sensing his mounting anxiety, the woman finally raised the polished blade from the table. She turned around to face him, speaking with the exact same gentle tone she had used in the snowy woods. "You're lucky I found you out there. Most visitors don't return from that cold."
Visitors? Damon's mouth hung open as he repeated the word under his breath. Given the sheer brutality of the environment he had just escaped, it was hard to believe people were willingly entering this frozen death trap.
"This place isn't all snow, boya." The old woman laughed lightly, sliding her weapon back into its scabbard with a crisp click. "Sate… how about going for a stroll? I'll show you around and introduce you to the others."
"But I can't move my body properly..." Damon replied honestly, his voice still raspy.
"Ho?" Hearing his excuse, the woman cocked her head slightly to the side with genuine amusement. It was rather apparent that she did not believe a single word of his protest. She stared at him pensively for a moment before instructing, "Could you try standing up for me?"
What is she thinking…?Although highly hesitant, Damon slowly rolled his legs out from under the heavy sheets.
His body suddenly felt strangely light the moment his bare feet made contact with the smooth wooden floorboards. It felt as if the physical trauma had left his flesh much faster than the mental memory of it.
My body still feels a kind of stiffness, but some basic stretches should sort this out.He mentally prepared himself, executing a series of light arm and back stretches. The joints throughout his frame cracked cleanly with each bend and twist, but at this moment, Damon found the sensation incredibly relieving.
However, he was not the only one paying attention to the changes.
"That's quite a nice body for someone so inexperienced," the woman remarked casually.
A distinct spark appeared in her stern eyes as she critically examined the muscle alignment across his back and shoulders. "It seems things will be much easier from here on out."
Damon looked at her incredulously, not really understanding the hidden meaning behind her words. I got so lost in concentration I almost forgot she was watching.As he began to clench his fists through the growing unease, the old woman turned toward the exit and threw the paper door open once more.
She tilted her head slightly, looking back over her shoulder. "Well, let's go."
Following her lead, Damon stepped outside the room and onto an elevated wooden platform. It appeared the entire compound was raised a few feet off the ground. Hopping off the edge, he watched the old woman's back closely as she continued forward.
Subconsciously, his pace began to slow as he took in the surrounding scenery. The suffocating piles of snow and frozen air were completely gone; instead, he felt the gentle brush of lush grass blades beneath his bare toes, standing in a wide field surrounded by vibrant trees and soft, warm sunlight.
A bamboo water fountain tapped rhythmically against a stone basin nearby, its hollow echo reverberating through a sprawling, pristine garden. The pleasant sounds of birds chirping overhead reached his ears, and the warm breeze carried a sweet scent reminiscent of fresh honey and lavender.
It was beautiful, surreal, and entirely disconnected from the frozen hellscape he had occupied just hours prior.
With an entranced glint in his eyes, Damon lightly brushed his fingers against a cluster of pink blossoms hanging from a branch. The old woman's voice then drifted gently back toward him.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Damon turned his head and noticed that the woman had already taken a comfortable seat beneath a massive wisteria tree. A simple spread of hot tea poured into delicate porcelain cups, along with a woven basket filled with smoked fish and fresh fruit, lay arranged before her on a mat.
"I'm sure you're hungry after losing that much blood."