Fire Emblem if: Resonant Blood

by JustaSoulsFan

3 years after the Conquest Route, Corrin is still haunted from the war between Hoshido and Nohr. The sacrifices she made to expose Garon wear heavily on her. Yet she tries to fulfill her duty as Nohrian princess regardless. On a mission to solve a dispute between allies, she encounters the mysterious Hunter Abel Deville. Together they must confront new enemies and their dark past.

3. The Stranger under the moonlit sky

Chapter 01 - The Stranger under the moonlit sky

The royal family made their way through the grand corridors of Castle Krakenburg, their footsteps echoing off the stone floors as they entered the throne room. The space was regal, adorned with banners that bore the sigil of Nohr and draped in the dark, imposing colors that reflected their kingdom's strength. It was a room steeped in history, where decisions were made that shaped the fate of the realm. Xander led the way, his strong figure cutting an imposing silhouette as he approached the throne. The other royals followed, standing beside him, their faces marked by the passage of time and the burdens they now carried.

Xander, the eldest, took his place on the throne, his regal presence commanding attention. His siblings—Camilla, Leo, Elise, and Corrin—stood behind him, each taking their position beside their brother, their eyes trained forward with a sense of purpose. The royal family had grown closer over the years, their shared experiences strengthening their bonds despite the painful history that continued to linger in the air. Yet there was always the knowledge that, despite the horrors of war and the complex legacies of their actions, they were united in their blood, their responsibility to Nohr, and their deep-seated love for each other.

As they settled into their places, the door to the throne room opened with a heavy creak. A figure strode into the room, his presence as striking as the lightening that cut across the dark skies outside. Lord Rolent, a Nohrian nobleman whose very name sent ripples through the court, entered. His appearance was like that of a figure from a forgotten tale—tall, composed, and undeniably charismatic. His eyes, a shade of deep crimson, gleamed with an intensity that matched the refined air about him. His hair, blonde and slicked back—almost sculpted to perfection—was bound loosely into a small ponytail, giving him an air of sophistication and mystery. His attire, a luxurious ensemble of deep purples, blacks, and silvers, shimmered in the dim light of the room, his noble status clearly apparent. As he approached, he gave a polite bow to the royal family, his expression poised and respectful, but not lacking the sense of authority that came with years of political maneuvering.

The room fell into silence as Rolent's presence commanded the attention of all who were present. Xander gave a brief nod, acknowledging the nobleman, while the others, though somewhat familiar with his presence, remained attentive. Camilla's gaze flickered over him briefly, as if appraising his every movement. Leo kept his distance, his face unreadable, but the sharpness of his gaze betrayed his underlying curiosity. Elise, ever the warm-hearted sibling, offered a smile, though it was tinged with the recognition that Rolent was not just any visitor but someone whose role in Nohr's court had been shaped by years of cunning and strategy.

Rolent had come into the royal fold a decade ago, introduced as a figure from a far-off land, an enigmatic and refined noble who quickly captivated the court's attention. With a quiet confidence, he presented himself as a man of knowledge, a man of culture, and a man with talents that would soon prove indispensable. King Garon, ever eager to expand his influence, took note of Rolent's magical prowess and quickly saw the opportunity to incorporate such a talent into his plans. Rolent, with his cold charisma and impressive magical abilities, was soon welcomed into the fold. His ability to understand complex arcane forces, along with his sharp strategic mind, placed him in a position of great influence within Nohr's upper echelons.

It was not long before Rolent's talents in dark magic became known throughout Nohr's court, his expertise in the arcane arts invaluable to the kingdom's war efforts. With an air of unassuming authority, he advised on military tactics and arcane affairs alike, positioning himself as the go-to source for knowledge when the kingdom needed it most. His rise within the ranks was swift, and his advice on military intelligence, fortifications, and espionage soon became indispensable.

During the war, Rolent had been instrumental in Nohr's intelligence efforts, managing espionage operations that helped the kingdom maintain a critical edge against Hoshido. His meticulous planning and ability to orchestrate covert operations made him a figure of both reverence and wariness. The royal family, particularly King Garon and the shadowy figure of Iago, quickly became reliant on Rolent's counsel, and his name came to be associated with some of the kingdom's most successful maneuvers against Hoshidan forces. Despite his behind-the-scenes role, Rolent had gained the trust of the Nohrian court, his cold efficiency a perfect match for the kingdom's calculating nature.

Yet, despite his rising influence, Rolent had always maintained a careful distance. To Xander, he explained that his role was one of service, that his loyalty was to Nohr and to King Garon above all else. When Xander once questioned him about the ethics of some of the darker schemes Rolent had suggested, the nobleman had shrugged and replied in his usual, unflappable manner.

"War is never clean, Your Majesty," he had said with a touch of coldness in his voice. "I do as my king commands. It is not my place to question the morality of his orders, only to carry them out. The needs of the kingdom come before personal sentiment."

This answer, though somewhat unsettling, had earned Rolent a measure of respect from Xander. The prince, ever the dutiful warrior, understood the necessity of sacrifice in times of war. He had learned, over the years, to accept the harsh realities of battle, just as his siblings had. But there was something in Rolent's eyes that left Xander wondering whether the nobleman's stoic loyalty masked deeper questions of his own, ones he dared not ask aloud.

But as the war raged on, it became clear that Rolent's quiet nature was not just a product of strategic planning; it was his way of dealing with the violence he helped perpetuate. He had confessed to Xander, in private, that he preferred to stay in the background to minimize casualties, orchestrating schemes to undermine Hoshidan forces from a distance. He had seen firsthand the devastation that war caused, and though he had never questioned the war itself, he believed that as many lives as possible should be spared.

"I simply...wish for Nohr's victory," Rolent had said to Xander once, his tone thoughtful yet distant. "But it is a victory that should come without unnecessary loss."

And yet, despite this desire to minimize suffering, Rolent had never been one to question the morality of King Garon's orders. In the end, he had accepted the kingdom's harsh, brutal reality. He, like the others, had become part of the machine, caught in the grinding gears of politics and war, driven by a sense of duty rather than personal conviction.

As the royal family listened to Rolent speak, Xander's mind wandered to the past—the early days when Rolent had first arrived in Nohr. Xander had been intrigued then by the man's enigmatic nature, but now, as he stood on the throne, those early days felt distant, as if they had belonged to another time. The war had changed everyone, even Rolent. And as he observed the nobleman now, Xander couldn't help but wonder how much of that darkness still lingered within him.

The throne room of Castle Krakenburg was unusually quiet as Lord Rolent, his gaze unwavering and his movements deliberate, stood before King Xander. He had just delivered troubling news from the northern regions of Nohr, an area stretching from the northern borders of Cheve to the south of the dreaded Woods of the Forlorn.

"The Ice Tribe and the Wolfskin are in conflict, Your Majesty," Rolent began, his deep voice echoing in the cold, stone room. "The Wolfskin accuse the Ice Tribe of encroaching on their lands, claiming that their borders are being pushed further south, encroaching upon territory that has long been claimed by the Wolfskin. The chief of the Ice Tribe, Lady Flora, denies this vehemently and insists they are merely defending their homeland from the intrusion of the Wolfskin."

Xander, seated at the throne, frowned deeply. His brow furrowed, and a glimmer of concern passed across his face as he looked to his siblings, all standing at attention by his side. This situation seemed more than just a territorial dispute—something else was at play.

"Do they seek Nohr's intervention?" Xander asked, his voice steady, though laced with suspicion.

Rolent nodded. "Indeed. They have come to us, asking for aid in resolving the situation. Both tribes are preparing for conflict, and should it escalate, it could spill over to nearby parts of the kingdom. The local people are caught in the middle of the growing tension, and they look to the crown for assistance."

A tense silence filled the room as each member of the royal family processed the news.

Camilla, ever protective of her family, stepped forward first. "This could be dangerous," she said, her tone a mix of concern and resolve. "The Ice Tribe has always been reclusive, living in the harshest of climates, and the Wolfskin are fierce warriors. I worry about the toll this conflict could take, both on our people and on the two tribes."

Leo, his expression always measured, spoke up next. "But why now?" he asked. "The Ice Tribe and the Wolfskin have coexisted for years. This doesn't sound like a simple territorial dispute. Perhaps there is something else driving the conflict, something we're not being told."

Corrin, whose gaze had been cast downward as she thought, spoke up quietly but firmly. "Maybe it's not just about territory," she said. "I've been to the northern reaches of Nohr before... The farther you travel north, the harsher the conditions become. It's not just the cold. The winds can be fierce, the snow blinding. Perhaps something has changed in the climate there, something we don't fully understand. Could there be some sort of environmental shift driving them to fight over resources?"

Xander turned to look at her, his expression darkening slightly. "But you know how the Ice Tribe is, Corrin. They've lived there for centuries, accustomed to that cold, that environment. Why would they suddenly feel the need to push into the Wolfskin territory? Are we certain there's nothing else at play here?"

Camilla shook her head slightly. "That's exactly what I've been thinking. Could something be influencing them? Is it a matter of resources, or is it something else—something deeper?"

Leo's brow furrowed. "Could there be something—an outside force, perhaps—that is driving the Ice Tribe to take such actions? A natural disaster? A shift in the land itself?"

The conversation quickly grew heated as each royal sibling offered their theories. The once unified front they presented began to show cracks as different opinions clashed. Some wanted to send an army, while others questioned the motives of the two tribes. But amidst the bickering, Corrin remained focused, her mind already made up.

"I'll go," she said suddenly, interrupting the discussion. Her voice was firm, her resolve clear. "I'll go and investigate myself."

All eyes turned to her. For a moment, there was silence.

Xander, taken aback by her sudden decision, stood up from his throne. "Corrin..." His voice was filled with concern as he approached her, his usually strong and stoic face now soft with worry. "Are you sure about this? It's a dangerous journey. The north is no place for anyone unprepared. And we don't even know what's really happening. This conflict could be more than we think."

But Corrin stood tall, her gaze unwavering. "I know the north," she said, her voice steady despite the swirling thoughts in her head. "I've been there before. And I can't just sit here, doing nothing. These people need help, Xander. They trusted me once, and I fought for them. I won't turn my back on them now."

Her words struck deep. Xander's heart clenched at the mention of the Ice Tribe's trust. He remembered the painful events of three years ago, when the clash between Hoshido and Nohr had reached its darkest point, and how Corrin had stood at the heart of it all.

Corrin remembered the tragic encounter with Flora, the heartache of fighting a friend who had once been so close, so dear to her. The guilt that still haunted Corrin's heart was undeniable. Xander had seen it in her eyes every time she thought about what happened, and he knew it was not something she could easily forget.

"Please, Corrin," Xander said, his voice gentle but tinged with concern. "You've been through so much already. This isn't something you need to do alone."

Corrin gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I'm not alone, Xander," she said softly. "I have my family. And I have the people of Nohr and the Ice Tribe. I don't want to let them down. I can't."

She paused, and her expression softened as she glanced down at the floor, lost in thought for a moment. "After everything... after what happened with Flora... I can't just sit here in the palace and do nothing. I need to make sure Nohr doesn't lose its way again. I need to prove that I can still help, that I can still make a difference."

Xander stood silently for a moment, looking at his sister with a mixture of concern, admiration, and fear. He knew how deeply the weight of the past had affected her, how the memory of the countless slaughtered Hoshidans had shaped her every decision. But he also knew that Corrin was strong, even if she didn't always believe it herself. He could see the determination in her eyes, the same determination that had led her to bring hope to so many, even in the darkest of times.

"Very well," he said after a long pause, his voice heavy with resignation. "If this is what you truly wish, then I won't stop you. But promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you won't push yourself too hard."

"I promise," Corrin said, her voice resolute. She could feel the weight of her brother's words, but she knew this was something she had to do. It was a chance to make things right, to heal the wounds that still lingered from the war. It was a chance to stand tall, not just for Nohr, but for the people she had once fought to protect.

And with that, the royal family fell into a contemplative silence, each of them reflecting on the challenges that lay ahead. The kingdom, and its fragile peace, was at a crossroads once again. But for Corrin, this journey was not just about resolving a conflict—it was about finding a path forward, not only for Nohr, but for herself.

Rolent acknowledged Corrin's determined resolve with a knowing smirk and inclined his head respectfully before retreating from the throne room, leaving an air of intrigue behind him. His quiet but piercing gaze hinted that he had his own views on the matter, yet he chose not to voice them, allowing the royal family to sort out their own affairs. As the throne room's doors closed behind him, Corrin turned, already mentally preparing for her journey north. There was much to consider, and the anticipation of the coming journey stirred both her sense of duty and a cautious excitement.

Back in her chambers, she swiftly began gathering her supplies, her mind sharp and focused as she readied herself for the icy northern territories. She had just begun lacing her sturdy traveling boots when Jakob, her loyal retainer, entered, his face composed but his eyes glimmering with subtle concern.

"Milady, all is prepared for your journey," he announced smoothly, though his gaze searched her face as if to confirm her readiness. "I have packed the necessary provisions, and our steeds are being readied as we speak. Is there anything further you require before departure?"

Corrin met his gaze with a warm smile, appreciating the meticulous care he always provided. "Thank you, Jakob. I think everything's in order. I'm grateful to have you by my side."

As she adjusted the clasp of her cloak, two familiar figures entered the room: Niles and Effie, each an embodiment of their lords' contrasting personalities.

Niles, with his silver hair and one piercing eye visible beneath his angled fringe, moved with a casual swagger. His dark attire and roguish grin gave him an air of mischief, yet his keen perception was obvious to anyone who looked closely. A seasoned archer and former outlaw, he served Leo with undivided loyalty, bringing a ruthless edge to Nohr's intelligence operations. Niles took in Corrin's travel attire with an approving smirk, his single visible eye gleaming with a mix of intrigue and amusement.

Effie, on the other hand, stood tall and imposing in her armor, her figure as robust as her loyalty to Elise was unwavering. Her armor, polished and reinforced, caught the light as she stepped forward, her expression resolute. Her steadfast gaze, framed by her practical, pulled-back blonde hair, showed both respect and an unyielding resolve to protect those dear to her. Known for her strength that surpassed even most seasoned soldiers, Effie embodied a powerful guardian figure, always prepared to step into battle if it meant defending her beloved princess.

"Lady Corrin," Niles said with a mischievous gleam, "I've been given the pleasure of escorting you on this little adventure of yours. Orders from Lord Leo himself."

Effie nodded, her voice direct but kind. "Princess Elise asked me to accompany you, my lady, to ensure your safety. She insists you not undertake this journey alone."

Corrin's initial instinct was to politely decline the offer, not wanting to impose the burdens of a potentially hazardous journey on her retainers. "I appreciate the offer, but I can handle myself. You both have your own duties, and I wouldn't want to take you away from them."

Niles chuckled lightly, his grin widening. "With respect, Lady Corrin, we wouldn't dream of leaving you to fend off wolfskin and icicles on your own. Besides, what would Lord Leo say if I simply let you wander off unprotected?"

Effie nodded in agreement, her expression softening with genuine care. "And Princess Elise would worry terribly if she thought you were traveling without someone to watch your back. It's too dangerous to go alone, milady. Please allow us to accompany you."

Seeing the determination in their eyes, Corrin relented with a small smile of appreciation. "Alright," she said, inclining her head. "Thank you, both of you. It means a lot to have such loyal friends by my side. Let's make the necessary preparations and get started."

The trio, joined by Jakob, made their way to the stables where their steeds awaited, the chilly morning air carrying a sense of purpose. The royal steeds, all powerful and trained for the rough terrain, snorted and pawed the ground as they approached. Corrin patted the side of her mount, finding reassurance in the warm, steady presence of the animal. Jakob assisted her into the saddle, ensuring her gear was securely fastened, while Niles and Effie mounted their own steeds, each clearly experienced and ready for the journey ahead.

As they set off, Corrin glanced back at Castle Krakenburg, a silent promise in her heart to return with answers and, hopefully, peace for the tribes locked in conflict. She could feel the eyes of her family on her departure, especially Xander's, who no doubt carried his own concerns for her safety. But with Jakob, Niles, and Effie beside her, Corrin felt a renewed sense of confidence, ready to face whatever challenges awaited in the frozen north.

Their journey began at a steady pace, the rhythmic hoofbeats punctuating the silent stretches of land as they passed out of Krakenburg's boundaries and into the rugged Nohrian landscape. The sky above was a steely gray, a stark reminder of Nohr's unforgiving climate.

Niles, as they rode, seemed to be in his element, his attention alert to every sound in the dense woods, while Effie maintained a careful watch, her eyes scanning the shadows with a protector's vigilance. Jakob, riding slightly behind Corrin, was as composed as ever, though she noticed his gaze would occasionally flicker to her, as if silently ensuring her well-being.

After several hours of riding, they paused to rest, the quiet between them settling into a comfortable camaraderie. Corrin took a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill her lungs, and looked at her three companions with gratitude. The journey had only just begun, but with allies as loyal as these, she knew she could face whatever awaited in the icebound lands ahead.

Corrin lay awake, surrounded by the gentle crackling of the campfire and the soft murmurs of her sleeping companions. She gazed upward, trying to find peace in the stars scattered across the sky, yet her thoughts drifted back to one person, one face: Azura. Memories of their last battle together surfaced, vivid and painful, entwined with the bitter weight of regret.

She could still see Azura's determined gaze as she summoned her power to subdue the corrupted Prince Takumi, her voice and necklace resonating with that haunting song. Corrin had pleaded with her not to strain herself, knowing that Azura's powers came at a grave cost. But Azura had only smiled, resolute and calm, choosing to bear the weight of her sacrifice for the kingdom. She had disappeared soon after, leaving Corrin and her siblings to wonder and grieve in the silence of her absence.

Unable to quiet her mind, Corrin rose from her tent, letting her feet carry her to the lakeside. The moon hung low and full above the shimmering lake, casting a silvery glow that transformed the world into something both magical and melancholic. Shadows danced on the water, and the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore filled the air with a steady rhythm.

Standing alone beneath the moon's light, Corrin felt the deep ache of Azura's absence. She remembered Azura's calm presence, her gentle wisdom, and the unspoken bond they had shared through the horrors of war. This lake reminded her of the serene places they had once spoken, of secrets whispered in moonlit waters.

Softly, as if hoping that the song would bridge the distance between them, Corrin began to sing:

"You are the ocean's gray waves, destined to seek
Life beyond the shore just out of reach…"

Her voice filled the quiet night, mingling with the lake's gentle ripples and the wind stirring the branches overhead. She sang each line as if it could call Azura back to her, a plea to the night itself. But as her voice faded, the night remained silent. The moon was her only witness, and the only reply was the sigh of the wind through the trees.

She looked around, half-hoping to see Azura's familiar form materialize, but the shore remained empty.

With a sigh, Corrin turned from the lake and noticed a nearby hill, crowned by a solitary cherry tree. Its twisted branches and delicate blossoms seemed out of place in the cold, harsh terrain of Nohr, yet here it stood, its pale flowers softly illuminated by moonlight.

Underneath the tree, Corrin noticed a figure—a stranger lying in the grass, his face partially hidden in shadow, his breathing deep and steady. Surprised, Corrin stood still, watching him.

Corrin took a cautious step closer, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the figure under the tree. The young man appeared to be in his late teens at most, a striking figure even in sleep. He was draped in a brownish, long, flowing coat, intricately detailed with ancient symbols that fluttered in the cold breeze, as though the fabric itself held some secret, forgotten meaning. His tousled dark hair framed his face, tousled but seemingly soft, as he lay soundly asleep, oblivious to the night around him.

Corrin took a cautious step closer, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the figure under the tree. The young man appeared to be in his late teens at most, a striking figure even in sleep. He was draped in a brownish, long, flowing coat, intricately detailed with ancient symbols that fluttered in the cold breeze, as though the fabric itself held some secret, forgotten meaning. His tousled dark hair framed his face, tousled but seemingly soft, as he lay soundly asleep, oblivious to the night around him.

What caught her attention, however, was the way he was armed. A sheathed blade rested at his side, and something else caught the moonlight—a strange object at his belt that looked like a primitive form of a firearm. It was cylindrical, with a faint gleam to it, and its design was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Was it some kind of ancient weapon? And there, beside him, was a larger piece of metal—a blade, perhaps a Zweihänder, though it appeared to be broken or disassembled, the sharp tip visible but engraved with similar markings as his coat.

Her curiosity deepened. The stranger's appearance, though mysterious, spoke of a traveler of sorts, someone from far beyond the borders of Nohr, and perhaps even from a time long passed. The weapons he carried felt strange, out of place in a world like hers, but they carried an air of importance—of someone who had seen the harshest of battles and traveled many roads.

His sleep was peaceful, but it was the quiet stillness around him that gave Corrin pause. Who was he? And why had he chosen to sleep here, alone, in this desolate, cold land? The night seemed to hold a strange tension as the wind whispered through the trees, carrying the promise of mysteries yet untold.

Despite the pull of curiosity, Corrin hesitated. She was used to the presence of soldiers and retainers, not strangers with strange weapons. Was he dangerous? Could he have been sent by one of her enemies, or was he merely a traveler, lost in this vast land? The thought of approaching him caused a knot to form in her stomach, yet something—some instinct—urged her forward.

As she took another cautious step, the young man shifted slightly, a low murmur escaping his lips. His presence, though peaceful in its own way, still carried an aura of mystery, and the air around him seemed to hum with quiet energy.

Corrin's heart beat just a little faster. This was no ordinary traveler. Something in the back of her mind stirred, as if she'd crossed paths with someone like him before, or perhaps she had simply encountered this kind of strange, otherworldly presence in her dreams. Either way, the need to understand, to learn more about this enigmatic stranger, pushed her closer.

But even as she moved nearer, she couldn't help but feel that there was more to this encounter than met the eye. The strange weapons he carried, the symbols adorning his coat and blade, and the deep, almost supernatural sense of calm about him were all threads in a tapestry she had yet to fully unravel.

Who was this man, and why was he here? The questions burned in her mind, but she also felt a deep sense of caution—perhaps this was not the right time to ask. Yet the quiet, haunting pull of the moonlight, the lake, and the mystery of the young man beneath the tree compelled her to continue, one step at a time.

Stopping a few feet away from the stranger, Corrin spoke, her voice low and steady, the chill of the night air pressing against her skin.

"Excuse me… who are you?"

The young man stirred at the sound of her voice, blinking as the moonlight danced over his tousled hair. He shifted, groggily taking in his surroundings as though it took a moment for the world to settle around him. His eyes, a deep, vibrant green, met hers. For a split second, Corrin felt a tightening in her chest, but she kept her stance relaxed, her expression neutral. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for his response.

He sat up, brushing the dirt off his coat, and spoke matter-of-factly, his voice quiet but confident.

"Ladies first."

A slight smile tugged at the corner of Corrin's lips. "A feisty stranger he is..." She couldn't help but feel amused at his retort.

"If you insist…" she replied, offering a polite nod. "I'm Corrin. And you are...?"

Abel gave a slight shrug, a small smile playing on his lips as if to say that names and titles were insignificant matters.

"Abel Deville," he repeated, his tone mild. "It's nice to meet you, Corrin."

Corrin nodded, her curiosity piqued. Something about him felt... out of place, yet strangely familiar. She continued, her tone probing but still friendly.

"You're traveling alone, in this cold, remote area? I imagine your journey must be quite important."

Abel's eyes darkened slightly, a flicker of something deeper passing over his face. He replied with a quiet nod.

"In the worst case scenario, it might very well be," he said, his voice carrying a subtle weight.

His words made Corrin pause, a shiver of unease running down her spine. There was something heavy in his tone, as if he were speaking of a burden far greater than what he was willing to reveal. Corrin raised an eyebrow, her curiosity only deepening.

"I see," she said cautiously, "this journey of yours sounds... serious. May I ask where you are headed?"

Abel met her gaze directly, his eyes unwavering as he spoke.

"According to the locals, I'm searching for a remote village that belongs to the so-called Ice Tribe."

The mention of the Ice Tribe caught Corrin off guard. She tilted her head, surprised to hear Abel bring them up.

"The Ice Tribe?" she repeated, more to herself than to him. "I know of them. What business do you have with them, if you don't mind me asking?"

Abel smiled faintly, his eyes betraying nothing as he spoke.

"I have no business with the people of the village directly. But I've heard of unrest between them and their neighbors—the Wolfskin."

Corrin's eyes widened, realizing that Abel's goal aligned with hers in some way. She had heard rumors of growing tension in the north firsthand, but to think that someone like him would be investigating it too...

"The Wolfskin, huh?" she said slowly, her mind turning over the possibilities. "I see… Do you intend to resolve this conflict, or is there another purpose for your visit?"

Abel's expression remained calm, though there was something more intense behind his gaze as he answered.

"I have another purpose," he said cryptically.

Corrin's curiosity surged. Abel's tone was laced with mystery, making her want to press further.

"Another purpose?" she echoed, intrigued. "And what might that be?"

Abel chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with something unreadable.

"Well," he began, his voice taking on a darker tone, "I'm on a hunt... for someone."

The words hung in the air between them, thick with unspoken meaning. Corrin's eyebrows furrowed, her pulse quickening at the sudden change in atmosphere.

"A hunt?" she asked, her voice growing more serious. "For whom are you searching, and why might they be in the Ice Tribe's territory?"

Abel's smile faded, his expression hardening into something much more grim. He looked at Corrin directly, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw something in his eyes—a shadow of what he was truly seeking.

"Let's just say it's a very dangerous individual," he said, his voice flat and controlled. "And if I'm right, this person might be the one responsible for the unnatural frost in the northern region. This is likely what's causing the unrest between the Ice Tribe and the Wolfskin."

Corrin's face grew serious as she processed his words. A dangerous individual? And they were responsible for the unnatural frost? Her mind raced with the implications. The conflict between the Ice Tribe and the Wolfskin had been escalating, and if there was someone behind it all, someone who could control such power…

"This is troubling," she murmured, more to herself than to him. "If what you say is true, then their presence could mean terrible consequences for both the Ice Tribe and the Wolfskin."

Abel's gaze hardened, but there was an edge to his words that sent a chill down her spine. "If I'm right, they're the source of the corruption in this region. They're spreading death and destruction, using the frost to control the land and the people."

Corrin felt a cold weight settle in her chest at his words. She met his gaze again, her expression hardening.

"You intend to stop them... how?" she asked, her voice low. "What are you planning to do when you find them?"

Abel's eyes narrowed, and his lips twisted into a thin, almost cruel smile.

"I will exterminate them," he said, his tone icy and devoid of hesitation.

The word sent a shiver through Corrin's spine. Exterminate? To speak so casually about taking a life felt wrong, especially after everything she had experienced. She took a half-step back, her mind racing with disbelief.

"Exterminate...?" she repeated, her voice thick with shock. "You speak of ending a life as if it's an everyday occurrence. Surely, there must be another way to handle this situation without resorting to such extreme measures."

Abel's gaze was unwavering, his expression unchanging as he shook his head.

"Not for these kinds of monsters," he said quietly.

Corrin stared at him, a mixture of confusion and disbelief crossing her face. His words sent a jolt of anger through her, a strange feeling of helplessness washing over her. How could he be so certain?

"There must be another way," she insisted, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. "We should try to understand this individual's intentions. Maybe there's more to their story than we know. Killing them shouldn't be our first option."

Abel scoffed, his voice dripping with cynicism.

"Their intentions are clear enough," he said, his eyes sharp. "They seek to kill, to consume, to reshape the world to their will. There is no understanding this."

The cold finality in his voice left no room for argument, and it left Corrin standing there, struggling to reconcile her own beliefs with his brutal pragmatism.

"To reshape the world..." she muttered, her voice quiet but heavy with disbelief. "Why would someone want to do that?"

Abel's gaze fell to a small object at his side, something dangling from his sleeve. He reached for it—a rosary, delicate but worn—and his voice softened as he spoke.

"Because they think it's their right," he said, his tone tinged with sadness. "They believe it's natural—this hunger, this need to dominate, to consume."

Corrin watched him closely as he spoke, her heart sinking as she took in the weight of his words. She could feel the darkness in them, the chill that clung to his every syllable.

"To think that someone could see such... evil as natural..." she whispered, more to herself than to him.

Abel didn't respond immediately. He stood, his expression distant, before looking back at her, his voice almost cold.

"I'll do what I must," he said, his hand resting on his sheathed blade, the weight of the moment heavy in the air between them. "And when I find this person, I will deal with them. No matter the cost."

Corrin felt a pang in her chest. She couldn't let herself believe that this was the only way. But looking into Abel's determined gaze, she knew there was no changing his mind.

Corrin took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart as her thoughts swirled in a chaotic mess.

"You said you're hunting this individual, but why? What makes you think you're capable of stopping this... monster?" she asked, her voice steady but full of uncertainty.

Abel smiled and gestured to his firearm and sheathed blade. "Because I'm trained and armed to deal with these kinds of monsters."

Corrin's eyes flickered between his weaponry and his confident expression. "I can see that you're prepared," she replied carefully.

Abel grinned. "Oh, I have. I'm a hunter, employed by the Septian Church, specializing in heretics and unholy abominations."

Corrin's eyes widened in surprise. A hunter for the ''Septian Church''? This revelation stirred both curiosity and caution within her. She scrutinized him closely.

"A hunter, you say?" she repeated, her voice thoughtful. "You've faced these kinds of monsters before, then?"

Abel nodded. "Yes. That's why I'm so sure of this."

Corrin absorbed his words, his conviction adding to her growing intrigue. "I see... If you've encountered such creatures, surely there must be a strategy or weakness we can exploit."

Abel's face turned to one of disbelief. "We? Hold on... Corrin, was it? I never said you'd be coming along. This is too dangerous for someone like you."

Her expression darkened immediately. The word normal felt like a slap. She wasn't just some average human.

"You think I'm just a regular person?" she asked, her voice rising with a touch of annoyance.

Abel glanced at her armor and sword. "I'll admit, you look battle-hardened. But facing monsters like these is unlike anything on a battlefield. One mistake and you're dead."

Corrin's teeth clenched, her pride stung by his condescending tone. Though she knew his warning had merit, her defiance surged.

"Don't underestimate me," she retorted coldly. "I've faced more than my share of dangers. I'm not some helpless damsel who needs protection."

Abel facepalmed. "Listen, I admire your bravery, but facing a Dead Apostle isn't like fighting an army. It's a death sentence for anyone unprepared."

Corrin's irritation flared. Being treated like a naive child was infuriating. Her patience snapped.

"You're awfully dismissive of my abilities," she shot back, her eyes narrowing. "I am not an untrained child who doesn't understand danger. I've survived countless battles. I'm no fragile flower."

Abel groaned. "Why are you doing this? Aren't you just a traveler? You speak like it's your duty to face this monster."

Corrin's expression hardened with resolve, her voice firm. "I'm not just a traveler. I won't ignore a threat that could harm innocent lives. If I can stop it, I will."

Abel scowled at her stubbornness. "You won't back down, will you?"

Corrin met his gaze with equal intensity. "I won't. I will not stand by while others suffer. I'll face this monster, with or without your help."

Abel looked at her in silence, then sighed deeply. "Okay, you win… this time. But at least let me accompany you."

Corrin raised an eyebrow, surprised. She had expected more resistance, not this sudden capitulation. "You're willing to accompany me?" she asked cautiously, still unsure of his change of heart.

Abel shrugged in resignation. "I can't let an innocent bystander walk into the lion's den and lose her pretty little head."

Corrin bit back the urge to roll her eyes at his phrasing. She didn't appreciate being called a "pretty little head," but swallowed her irritation. "Fine," she replied, her voice steady. "You can accompany me, but you must promise not to underestimate me. I'm more than capable in battle, and I won't be coddled."

Abel sighed, exasperated. "Okay... no coddling." He paused, then gave her a sharp look. "But let me ask you something."

Corrin met his gaze, wary. "What question?"

Abel's expression turned serious. "Who are you really? You're risking your life for the people here—no ordinary traveler or mercenary would do that. What's your deal?"

Corrin hesitated, caught off guard by the depth of his question. She needed to tread carefully. "I'm just someone who cares about others," she said slowly, choosing her words with care. "I can't stand to see suffering, and if I can help, I will."

Abel raised an eyebrow. "You speak of this land and its people as if you're responsible for them. As if you have some claim to it."

Corrin felt a pang of unease at his keen observation. She hadn't meant to reveal too much. "I suppose it might sound that way," she replied, trying to sound casual. "But I care deeply for this land and its people. Perhaps that's what you're sensing."

Abel studied her closely. "You're no peasant or mercenary, that's clear. Too well-dressed. You must be a noble... or perhaps..."

Corrin's heart skipped a beat. His gaze was sharp, too sharp. She forced herself to remain composed. "Perhaps... what?" she asked, her tone neutral but wary.

Abel narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps you're even royalty."

Corrin's breath caught. The truth hung in the air, unavoidable. There was no point in denying it. "...You're right," she admitted, her voice soft. "I'm a member of this land's royal family."

Abel nodded smugly. "Figured as much... something about you didn't add up." His tone shifted to one of gravity. "Listen, your highness," he continued, now dry and serious. "I get that you care for your country, but the monster we're facing isn't something that can be defeated with politics or an army. A Dead Apostle can wipe out entire communities with just its presence. Some have leveled cities overnight. We need to find and stop it before it consumes this entire kingdom. But I'm sure you won't falter, right?"

Corrin met his gaze, unflinching. "I won't falter. I know the danger, and I won't stay behind while this monster threatens innocent lives. I'll fight, no matter the cost."

Abel stared at her, his gaze hard for a moment. Then, unexpectedly, his expression softened, and he broke into laughter.

Corrin blinked in confusion. "What—? What's so funny?"

Abel wiped a tear from his eye. "You really are the most reckless, stubborn royal I've ever met." He chuckled. "Alright, I'll accompany you. But if things go south, you promise me you'll run and protect yourself."

Corrin felt a mix of relief and irritation. "I... promise. But I'm not that reckless."

Abel nodded. "Good. Now, let's rest for the night. Tomorrow, we head to the Ice Tribe village."

Corrin agreed, knowing the journey ahead would be long and dangerous. They retired to their tents to rest, preparing for the perilous road to come.