Millennium Witch

Book 3: Chapter 259: The Hot Spring Inn

The leaden sky hung low, as if pressing down on the distant, unbroken line of snow, wrapping heaven and earth alike in a solemn, piercing chill. Inside the carriage, Yvette, wrapped in a thick cloak, peered through the curtain that the wind occasionally lifted, gazing at the vast, monotonous white world outside.The crunch of wheels over compacted snow and the muffled breathing of the pack beasts were the main background sounds of the journey.

After leaving the relatively warm south, the scenery along the road had been nothing but snow and coniferous forests buried under white. Occasionally, there would be low villages built from heavy stone and timber, with thin trails of smoke curling up from their chimneys.

In Yvette’s original plan, she’d hoped to fly straight to the Snow Country by airship. Only when she asked at the aerial port did she learn there were no direct flights to the Snow Country at all—the closest destination was only the Sit Kingdom to the north.

Forced to compromise, she first took an airship north to the Sit Kingdom, then made her way to a small border city. After some trouble, she finally found a caravan willing to take passengers to Icehammer City, beginning a slow journey that had now lasted several days.

Of course, she could have just gone on foot, but first, the maps were all far too abstract—like treasure maps sketched in crayon. She doubted she’d even find the right destination. Second, racing alone across the Snowfields would be far too conspicuous. This was, after all, the Snow Emperor’s territory. Before she figured out that deity’s stance and attitude, she preferred to keep a low profile.

And so, after days of travel, a city finally appeared on the distant horizon, built against the mountains: the Snow Country’s capital, Icehammer City.

As the caravan drew nearer, the details of the city gradually came into focus.

The first thing to leap into view was the outermost ring of massive city walls, as if grown from the very mountain rock. They were built from huge, irregular blocks of grayish-blue stone, their surfaces covered in layers of long-frozen ice that reflected a cold, hard sheen beneath the gloomy sky.

Behind the walls lay the snow-clad low buildings of the city, stacked layer upon layer along the mountain slope. For a capital, its level of urban development was… modest. Any random district of the Academy of Truth could crush it in terms of size and prosperity.

But that didn’t mean Icehammer City was crude. Seen from afar, the white snow and the steam rising from chimneys wove together to form a cozy, unhurried atmosphere—a rhythm of life unique to this land.

Before long, after passing the guards’ inspection at the city gate, Yvette and the other travelers paid a modest entry tax and stepped into the city proper.

Inside, the view was completely different from outside the walls. It was cold, yes, but full of life. The streets were paved with large slabs of stone, with meltwater running along the gutters. People in all sorts of fur clothing walked by, white breath puffing from their mouths.

Besides the tall, broad-shouldered northern humans, dwarves were a common sight as well, along with a small number of half-orcs. Together, they made up the main races of the city.

A few minutes later, following the directions Anya had hammered into her again and again, Yvette walked up a gradually rising stone road and finally arrived, at the top of the slope, at a hot spring inn called Snowmist Lodge.

The inn’s facade was understated, built of dark raw timber and stone. By the door hung an ice-crystal lamp that gave off a warm yellow glow, spilling a sense of comfort into the cold wind.

When she pushed open the heavy wooden door, the copper bell over the lintel chimed crisply. At the front desk stood a kindly, slightly plump middle-aged woman. She wore a finely made fur jacket in the traditional Snow Country style, its collar trimmed with a ring of soft white fur. “Welcome, traveler from afar,” she said. “Will you be staying with us?”

“Yes.” Yvette nodded, dusting the snowflakes from her cloak. “Do you still have any private hot spring suites available?”

“Oh dear, what a shame.” The middle-aged woman’s face showed just the right amount of regret. “There’s been a merchant gathering these last few days, and the private hot spring suites were booked out long ago. We only have a few standard rooms left, but they all come with access to the public hot spring area—the experience is still very nice.”

“Can I use this?” Yvette took out a token and handed it over.

This was the token Anya had given her, said to be proof of an old regular at Snowmist Lodge. Anya’s dad could apparently eat and drink here for free with it. Yvette wasn’t sure if it would do any good right now.

The moment the receptionist saw the token, surprise flashed across her face. “So you’re one of our esteemed gold members! I’m so sorry for the oversight, you should have said so sooner—ah, please wait just a moment, I’ll make arrangements right away.”

And so, with the receptionist bustling about attentively, the check-in procedures were completed in no time. A neatly dressed young attendant led Yvette down several winding corridors into the depths of the inn.

Snowmist Lodge was laid out like a sprawling manor. Yvette’s room was located at the very back, in an especially quiet area. When she opened the door, the interior was filled with thick Snow Country flavor: a heavy wool carpet with intricate geometric patterns underfoot, and brightly colored woven wall hangings on the walls that looked to be depicting the Snow Emperor’s myths and legends.

Of course, the most important feature was still the private hot spring. Sliding open the inner door, she saw a small outdoor bath bordered by rough stone. Billows of white steam rose continuously from the water. The rippling surface reflected the warm light spilling out from the room, casting soft, hazy halos.

Once the attendant had left, Yvette took in the scene and was, of course, fully prepared to soak to her heart’s content.

But when she released a large number of spiritual fragments to bring the entire room and surrounding area under surveillance, she finally noticed that in the farthest corner of the mist-shrouded pool, a slender girl with long white hair was lying peacefully against the rocky edge, back bare and turned toward her. The girl seemed completely unaware of her arrival, as if she had long since fallen asleep.

Yvette froze. At first, she couldn’t understand why there would be an unfamiliar girl in her hot spring suite. Then she realized that this stranger had disguised herself with Light-and-Shadow Magic—she was actually in a state of invisibility. If Yvette hadn’t blanketed the area with spiritual fragments, she never would have noticed that there was someone hidden here at all.

What put her even more on guard was that, through the rune siphon effect, she could clearly tell one thing: this girl was at least at the Archmage threshold of ten thousand mana—and possibly stronger.

What was going on?

A powerhouse above the Archmage level was actually freeloading in her hot spring?