In the boundless snowfields, atop a snow pine, Hailen observed the distance.

  The next moment, he extended his right arm, the light red leather gloves tinged with flickers of flame, his clenched fist holding a black wooden carving of a falcon.

  "Go, seek out the prey in the darkness."

  A faint silver glow shimmered on the carving, and in the next instant, the wooden falcon transformed into a living bird, soaring into the blue sky.

  But at the same time, the wooden eagle remained on his arm, now a little less lively.

  A silent eagle cry echoed through the sky, and the ethereal eagle spirit gradually ascended higher, searching for its prey in the snowfield.

  In this vast white snowfield, only a bird of prey like the falcon could easily overlook the entire area. Ordinary hawks, however, could not endure the freezing cold air of the northern spine that froze the very atmosphere.

  Round and round, the bird circled, expanding its search range at its master's command, its gaze sweeping over the creatures on the ground.

  But in just over a minute, its ethereal form began to fade, and finally, it dissipated entirely into the air.

  The falcon carving in Hailen's hand still had a glimmer of life in its eyes, and after the power ran out, the tired eagle spirit returned.

  "Hailen, did you spot anything?"

  A companion involved in the search task, Milt, looked up and called to Hailen from beneath the tree.

  "No, it seems the luck isn't on our side. They might not be here."

  Hailen shook his head at Milt, then jumped down from the tree. With just a slight pull and shake, his descent slowed dramatically.

  When his feet touched the ground, his toes barely made a sound, and no snow was even disturbed.

  Hailen didn't have the physical prowess of the frost giants, but as a dragonborn, he shared the same peak physical condition. His dragon heritage gave him a remarkably strong body.

  The despised elven bloodline granted him sharp senses and excellent balance. Coupled with years of "instruction" from the giants, Hailen considered himself a capable hunter in the snowfields.

  "...It's really cold this year," Hailen muttered.

  Taking the cold-weather cloak Milt handed him, Hailen took out a pouch of warm milk liquor, heated it with his right hand's enchanted glove, and took a hearty gulp.

  In this damned icy wasteland, there was probably nothing more warming than a sip of hot liquor.

  "If your sorcery really works, we might be the first to find those monsters."

  Ordinary people couldn't see Hailen's eagle spirit. Even with his old friend's trust, Milt still remained half-skeptical.

  If climbing a treetop and waiting a bit could reveal everything about this mountainous region, then what use would old hunters like them be?

  "This isn't sorcery. I'm not a shaman like Turbat, nor a magician of the elves. It's just a small trick, my own little trick."

  Though the dragonborn's heritage included some scattered magical knowledge, and both elves and dragonborn were naturally magical races, Hailen wasn't a spellcaster.

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  Casting spells was an accumulation of inherited knowledge, a discipline that required time and study. He had no teacher, so he could only be considered a wild mage with some skills in certain areas.

  Summoning warm furs, lighting fires with gloves, and binding eagle spirits into wooden carvings, these were all tricks where elemental power was attached to the material and its "soul" awakened.

  Yes, souls—everything has a soul. A Seer can see not just the souls of the dead.

  These were all small items Hailen created by using the magical knowledge passed down through his heritage and his Seer's talent.

  The principle? Simply choose suitable magical materials or construct a shape that fits the "soul" of the object, creating a fitting "body" for the soul to perform a magical effect.

  In terms of results, they were far from real magic.

  However, these little trinkets seemed to be particularly loved by the elves.

  If not for some unpleasant events the day before, Hailen's little market booth would probably have been swept clean by an elf with a stern face by the end of the market.

  This actually puzzled Hailen. After all, the elves possessed magical abilities that other races envied.

  It was said that even in these freezing lands, the elf villages in the northern territories still experienced a perpetual spring... and Hailen knew this wasn't a rumor.

  "...They always buy everything, never even asking the price. What do they want those things for? If we're talking about results, their magical items are far superior."

  Hailen shook his head, dispelling his doubts. There was no way to answer this question.

  What the elves wanted wasn't important. Since the day he was exiled from their village, he and they had been on separate paths.

  That year, during the early winter, without the giants' shelter, he would have frozen to death out there on the snowfields.

  The elves didn't matter now. What mattered was completing this highly rewarding commission so the villagers could have a good winter.

  "Milt, have you found any tracks?"

  The big man shook his head, and with a thud, a pile of snow fell from the ancient pine.

  The icy snow could cover most tracks and scents, and even the best hunters had trouble tracking in these conditions. It had rained and snowed just this morning.

  Now, most of the region was covered by thick snow. It was hard to track anything from even a day ago, let alone three.

  "No, I guess my tracking skills are still no match for Uncle Charles. If it were him..."

  Milt stopped himself, realizing that the "if" he mentioned was impossible.

  Frost Giant Charles was one of the tribe's strongest warriors, as well as the best hunter and beast trainer.

  If it weren't for his child being involved in this mess, Charles and his pack of winter wolves would have already found the target.

  "It's no use. We can't have Uncle Charles out here now..."

  Hailen also shook his head. He felt that no matter how strong one person was, their influence was still limited.

  The Frost Giants had sent out four teams, totaling ten people—most were seasoned hunters leading younger ones. The older hunters outnumbered the younger ones, and they had to stick together for mutual support to ensure safety, which indicated that the Frost Giant tribe was truly short-handed.

  Hailen's team was simply an ad hoc group, with the lead old hunter Charles absent, and two intermediate hunters cobbling together a team.

  They didn't have an expert beast trainer, so the search was slower than usual, but it was still manageable.

  "...Lead us, wolf spirit."

  The lifelike wolf-head carving emitted a dark glow, and the wolf spirit, visible only to Hailen, appeared before him.

  Its time was limited, and as soon as it manifested, it began searching for its prey.

  But Hailen didn't have high expectations. Whether it was the eagle spirit or the wolf spirit, neither was a true soul. They were simply "vessels" constructed to house the spirit, creating a virtual form of the soul in the air.

  This was a little trick Hailen created, combining the magical knowledge from his heritage and the shamanic doctrine that "everything has a soul," something only Seers could use.

  These virtual spirits had abilities corresponding to the "vessel" they inhabited, like fish swimming, eagles flying, and wolves tracking.

  Now, the wolf spirit was sniffing around in the snowfield, but it didn't even have a nose. While it could track, it was far less effective than a real hunting dog, and it had a limited lifespan—more of a toy than a tool.

  The principle? Hailen had pondered over it; perhaps the wolf spirit wasn't tracking scents but something else, like scattered souls...

  "Eh? Found a target? Found those monstrous abominations?"

  The sudden feedback from the wolf spirit caught Hailen by surprise, and he felt a glimmer of hope.

  So fast? When did his wolf spirit become better than a real wolf or hunting dog? After all, the wolves and dogs trained by the old hunters had been completely useless in previous encounters.

  "Let's go see for ourselves."

  Soon, following the wolf spirit's guidance, Hailen found his target by a frozen lake—a group of grotesque, pitiable monsters that matched the description of the attackers provided by the elves.

  However, after just one glance, Hailen suspected there might be something wrong with the information the elves had given him.

  "...Their souls are... off."