The later it got, the river no longer flowed calmly; it roared, dragging thousands of yellowing pine needles downstream. Its water turned a thick black, with small bits of newly melted ice reflecting the broken moonlight on the surface.

  On the riverbank, a lone campfire flickered bravely, the only color bold enough to challenge the darkness.

  Mira gazed into the flames, stretching her hands forward to coax life back into her stiff fingers. The night air in Jangsberg Forest felt predatory, its cold gnawing through every layer she wore. Each gust of wind made the forest hiss, millions of dry leaves whispering secrets in the dark.

  Across the fire, Kars sat without a mat, his legs gracefully folded on the cold river rocks. He didn’t shiver.

  While Mira bent over tensely trying to keep warm, she merged with the night. The firelight danced on her pale face, but her eyes were not fixed on the flames, instead on the rushing river.

  "Why aren’t you cold?" Mira asked curiously.

  "I circulate the Intian throughout my body." Kars still didn’t divert his gaze.

  "Does it never run out?"

  "Usually, those who reach a high stage don’t need to worry about their Intian being depleted."

  "Can’t that be done to me? I feel like I’m going to freeze to death here," Mira said, hugging herself.

  "It’s possible if you train diligently, consistently, and never complain."

  "Ha, ha. Thanks for the sarcasm." Mira sank further into her brown coat. Her body shook violently, and the fire in front of her barely provided any warmth at all.

  "The air tonight feels different, as if winter is about to come." Kars shifted his initial gaze toward Mira, then to the steadily flickering flames.

  Mira chuckled softly. "Especially since I'm not used to the four seasons."

  "I momentarily forgot that you're from the south."

  "Thank you."

  "We can go into the forest." Kars felt pity, but he did nothing. He could only rely on the fire of nature; the fire in star magic was destructive and could not be tamed.

  "I'm fed up with the forest."

  "At least the trees will block this cold wind."

  "This river is also inside the forest, surrounded by trees." Mira shifted her position, now hugging her knees and resting her chin on them. "I’m so lazy about moving."

  "So that's the reason." Kars stood up and walked toward Mira. He gave her his gray cloak, wrapping it around her to embrace her body as much as possible. "If you die here, it would be a real bother for me."

  “Do you really care about that now?” Mira was shocked by that man's behavior. However, she didn’t want to show it and chose to act normally.

  “I didn’t expect that the southern people, known for their peacefulness, would still have a civil war.” Kars didn’t answer Mira’s question; he preferred to pour out what was on his mind at the moment. He took a seat to Mira’s left.

  “I didn’t expect it either.” Mira grimaced. She could no longer bear to imagine that night. She only hoped that her family and people were still holding on until she returned, that they were still there.

  “If your kingdom is right, they should have already taken action,” added Kars.

  “I hope so.” Mira glanced at where Kars was, watching all of the man’s movements, even though he didn’t move much. His hair, combed back, was now starting to get messy, and she also noticed a small wound on his neck, a wound that looked like a stab. “How old are you, Kars?”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Kars returned Mira’s glance. That man always seemed flat, as if without emotion. “You don’t need to know,” Kars replied.

  “You look young, but your manner is like that of an older person.”

  Kars smiled faintly, returning his gaze to the campfire. “I’m still young. I’ve been through too much to count my age, I don’t even know the exact date I was born.”

  Mira knew that was the end. The end of that conversation topic. She knew that Kars didn’t want to talk further. Mira also didn’t want to force him to speak.

  “How can you speak my language? That elf and the librarian, they spoke my language.” Mira changed the topic to something she really wanted to ask.

  “I can speak every language in the world,” said Kars. There might have been a hint of arrogance in his words, but he said it flatly. “The librarian is an ancient being and possesses knowledge of all realms and worlds. That’s a reasonable explanation. As for the elf, maybe she used a rune.”

  “Rune?”

  “Yes, a translation rune. You’ll need to use it later.”

  “Where can I get it?”

  “From a Rune Master. There’s one in Port Jang.”

  “Is it expensive?” Mira had never felt that things were too expensive when buying something, but in the current situation, she seemed like she needed to ask about everything. “I have no money.”

  “Very,” Kars replied. “I’ve only got a little left, Kluppe, after buying you. But I know a way to get it for free.”

  “We’re not stealing it, right?”

  “No, you fool. Runes require a special spell, and that spell can only be used by an expert. Are there really no runes in the south?”

  “I don’t know, I am a princess. I rarely leave the house.” Mira said honestly. She often sneaked out, but her older siblings always found her quickly, so she wasn’t allowed to stay out for long.

  Suddenly, the wind blew very hard. Harder than before.

  The campfire flickered fastly, almost going out, before finally lingering as a sad red ember. Smoke billowed toward Mira, making her cough, but she didn’t dare move away. Too far from the smoke meant too far from the little remaining warmth.

  Mira would die tonight.

  The thought arrived not in panic, but as a cold certainty. Hypothermia is a patient predator. Mira recognized the signs: the drowsiness behind her eyes was not simple exhaustion, but her body quietly shutting down.

  A shadow moved in the corner of her eye, cutting through the moonlight.

  Mira looked up, her heavy eyes trying to focus. Kars was no longer in his place.

  Before Mira's slow mind could process the movement, she felt a physical presence beside her, closer. Not a touch, but a change in the air pressure. The scent of ozone, old pine needles, and a faint aroma of dry wood she didn’t recognize suddenly dominated her sense of smell, driving away the smell of wet wood smoke.

  Kars was now closer than before.

  He did not touch her, but the space between them was paper-thin. His presence shielded her from the biting wind.

  “You’re noisy,” Kars muttered. His voice was no longer distant. The voice was now close, low, and textured. “Your teeth sound like bells.”

  Mira wanted to reply with sarcasm, but her lips were too stiff to form words. She could only turn stiffly, staring at the side profile of that man. From this close, Kars’ skin wasn’t as smooth as milk-white, but more like egg white that still had a yellowish tint. She could see the very slow pulse on the man's neck.

  Without warning, Kars moved.

  With a fluid movement that was almost lazy, he pulled the side of his cloak that stuck to Mira’s body, then spread it wide. He stepped into the cloak.

  Mira blinked. “What?”

  The world immediately constricted.

  The roar of the river and the hiss of the threatening forest suddenly sounded distant, muffled by the layers of that cloak. Mira flinched. Under the sea of stars, the laws of nature seemed to change. The wind vanished. The biting cold disappeared.

  All that remained was heat.

  The heat came not from the cloak, but from Kars’s body pressed against her arm and shoulder. The warmth startled her. She had always imagined Kars as cold-blooded, like a snake or a fish, his manner so unyielding.

  But Mira was wrong. Kars's body radiated a steady heat that felt dry, like a stone baked under the sun all day.

  It was the heat of life itself.

  Mira stiffened for a moment, her muscles refusing to relax, alert to danger or deception. But biology is the absolute ruler in the laws of nature. When his skin receptors sense a constant source of heat, his body gives up.

  Mira's shoulders dropped, and the trembling in her teeth stopped. Unconsciously, he let out a deep sigh and leaned his body towards Kars. Stealing that warmth. Sucking it up like a parasite.

  "Better?" Kars asked. Her voice vibrated in Mira's collarbone, spreading through their physical contact.

  "A little," Mira murmured, lying. It tastes amazing. It feels like being saved.

  "I know." Kars grabbed Mira's cheek, directing the woman's gaze to look into her eyes. From the cheeks, his hands moved down to their necks, pulling them closer until their foreheads and noses touched.

  Mira's heart was pounding. He doesn't want to move.

  Now, their lips have touched. Slowly but surely, Mira accepts Kars to go deeper.

  Then he felt it, something flowing like the Intian that flows rapidly when he opens the Singus. But can it be channeled? Can the Intian be shared?

  However, this is not just about the transfer of Intian. Their lips clashed faster. The heat no longer came from the warmth of the burning body or the essence that flowed as fast as the water of the river. Now it feels like something else, something that feels like instinct—the nature of living things.

  Kars unfastened Mira’s brown robe, sliding the silk sleeves from her arms. Now, nothing could stop them.