Ursus military vehicles always prioritized practicality above all else.
The roar of the Originium engine pulled Sergei's thoughts away from the increasingly blurry financial statements and toward the person sitting across from him.
"Team Leader, where are we heading this time?"
"—."
It was a vague reply, but it was enough to make Sergei nod.
Sergei Friedrich Yuwen, tax officer of the Seventh Team, Tax Bureau of the Koschei Fiefdom in the Ursus Empire.
A monthly salary of one gold chervon (based on international gold prices, one gold chervon equaled 5,869 RMB, a conversion rate maintained here) was enough to allow a family of three to live quite comfortably for a good while.
Yet he was merely a fresh graduate from the Imperial University of Economics, assigned straight here to work as an ordinary, run-of-the-mill tax officer.
At twenty-four years of age, he was just embarking on his very first field tax collection mission.
Although it was just a routine tax collection mission, it also marked one of the most significant turning points of his life.
Inside the vehicle, apart from the two tax officers and the driver, the remaining members of the Infected Inspectorate were all engrossed in finger-guessing games and card playing.
The rural dirt roads of the northern Ursus tundra were relatively firm due to the influence of permafrost, which made the journey significantly less bumpy.
From time to time, muffled curses in Ursus and the sound of rubles being tossed onto the floor drifted to his ears.
Sergei had always looked down on these members of the Infected Inspectorate.
They were nothing more than a pack of running dogs serving the noble lords. In terms of combat effectiveness, they couldn't compare to a proper Ursus field army—not even to the honor guard—but when it came to bullying people, they were genuine experts.
"We've arrived, Sergei."
Sergei gave a start and followed the team leader out of the vehicle.
Before them lay a cluster of dwellings.
The dwellings commonly seen on the ice fields were either small wooden cabins or felt tents.
However, the latter were visibly very expensive, more commonly found among high-ranking officials and nobles.
The tax levied by the empire on farmers was an unshakeable one-in-twenty, and during bad harvest years, the government would even distribute grain to relieve the peasantry.
Naturally, without farmers, there would be no grain; and without grain, how could they wage war?
Sustaining war through war had always been a false proposition; both the new emperor and the old emperor understood this point.
External plunder always led to distorted economic development, which was detrimental to the continuation of the empire.
Although both emperors understood the importance of combining benevolence with severity, whether the people below actually carried it out was no longer his concern.
Furthermore, the new emperor, Feodor Ivanovich Ursus, lacked a firm footing and experience—
His Imperial Majesty, residing far away in the wealthy southern lands of Saint Petersburg, could never witness all the suffering occurring across this distant and barren northern tundra.
Bound by the limitations of feudalism and imperialism, the corruption of the Ursus Empire had long since penetrated its marrow, becoming a fatal chronic disease afflicting this giant.
Fabricating charges, exploitation, oppression, and forcible seizure were commonplace across this land.
The tundra knew only two distinct seasons: summer and winter.
During the winter, the people of the north could even see twin moons and the sun suspended in the sky simultaneously.
Sergei glanced at the gray sun and continued walking.
A fierce wind mixed with ice shards lashed against his face; Sergei instinctively pulled up his collar and walked toward the felt tent ahead.
When he reached the entrance, the team leader extended a hand, signaling him to halt.
As the team leader stepped into the tent, the only sounds that reached Sergei's ears were voices in conversation.
"Lord Tuso."
"Where is the cargo?"
"Right here."
The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground rang out abruptly, followed immediately by ingratiating laughter.
The team leader walked back out.
When he saw Sergei still standing at the entrance with a peculiar expression on his face, a look of panic flashed across his features for a fraction of a second before turning gloomy.
"Is your work finished?"
"Finished, Team Leader. This is........."
"Very well, let's head back."
"Understood."
Pulling open the vehicle door, Sergei took the front passenger seat. The driver in the main seat had changed from the previous Infected Inspectorate driver to a brown-haired Ursus woman.
The details of her Ursus military uniform were already faded and indistinct, but the Collective Order of Merit, Individual Order of Merit, and Ursus Second-Class Hero of the Fatherland honors pinned to her chest still shone brightly.
".........Sister?"
—, —!
The indistinct voice sounded once again.
Although the face of the person before him was exceptionally blurred, the smile on her lips and the tone of her words made it clear that she was very happy now.
Then, a sudden flash of fire and an explosion instantly engulfed everything.
............
October 2, 1086, 5:25 a.m.
Northeastern Tundra, Ursus
Churvik Village Collective Dormitory
"No, no..........!"
As Sergei's murmured words in the room grew louder, he woke up with a start.
Jumping with a fright, he broke out in a cold sweat all over and instinctively kicked off the quilt.
Dawn had not yet fully broken, and the midnight engagement had left him utterly exhausted.
His body felt sticky and clammy, but this discomfort was quickly overshadowed by the lingering terror of just escaping from the nightmare.
In the span of a single dream, Sergei had experienced two major life-altering transformations.
And now, here was yet another transformation in his life.
Looking out the window, he had long since completely missed the sunrise.
The twin moons and the sun still hung in the sky.
"..........The weather has cleared."
Yes, the weather had cleared.
Sergei thought to himself.
On the snowfields, ever since that blizzard began, there had never been a single clear day.
In Terra, ever since that Catastrophe began, there had never been true fairness.
More than half of the sun crossed the horizon, while the twin moons still hung in the sky, though their outlines were much fainter.
Sergei was not one to sit still. Tiptoeing to tidy up his bedding, he wrapped himself in his heavily battered coat and walked out the door.
The glare from the snow stung Sergei's eyes.
He lowered the ear flaps of his cap, naturally tucked his hands into his sleeves, and pulled down the brim of his hat.
Hardly managing to reopen his eyes and adjust to the surrounding environment, he picked up an axe and walked toward the path leading to the northern coniferous forest.
The hunters of Churvik Village had also been busy all night and were now fast asleep in their homes.
Eaves were hung with fresh Rift Beast meat and pelts.
Blood dripped onto the snow, and the traps had been re-collected by the people, but the tracks left in the snow could not be faked.
Restarting life anew was undoubtedly a form of redemption.
Starting from scratch required not only a new home, but also a complete reformation.
Both mentally and physically.
—It was time for a bath.
............
October 2, 1086, 9:22 a.m.
Talulah had never slept so well in her life.
The torment caused by the overuse of her Originium Arts and acute Oripathy savagely tore at her body, the pain piercing down to her bone marrow making life feel worse than death.
Yet at that moment, she had still chosen to stand up.
As a leader, she needed to fight for as much voice and leverage as possible for the Reunion Movement.
Precisely because of this, she was often the one who charged at the very front and stood in harm's way.
However, the physical and mental scars left behind along the journey relentlessly bared their fangs at her, attempting to tear this true-hearted Infected fighter apart before the illness could.
Yet around Alina, there seemed to be a peculiar "magic"—
As long as she drew near, Talulah felt the pain in her body recede significantly, and her mind grew clear.
The Black Snake, who was always chattering endlessly in her ear, was forced to shut up entirely—what a wonderful blessing that was.
Though in her heart she understood that this so-called "magic" was most likely a "leakage"-like problem caused by an Infected person's inability to control their own Originium Arts, Talulah still felt a sense of inner peace.
This feeling was something she had not experienced even once since she was truly "displaced" in Lungmen.
Yet when she managed to force open her eyelids, which felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead, she suddenly discovered that the little doe by her side was gone.
"!!!"
Talulah scrambled up from the bed in a panic, stared blankly at the empty space beside her, and then frantically stripped off her pajamas to change into her officer's uniform. Without even bothering to tame her hair, she grabbed her long sword and rushed out, even missing a button on her tunic.
When she burst out of the cabin, apart from a passing Reunion Movement member who looked at her in astonishment and a hunter humming a tune while processing a Rift Beast, what met her eyes was a large basket overflowing with sedge grass and white radishes, and its owner, Alina.
"Ah, Talulah..."
Without a second word, Talulah rushed forward and threw her arms around her.
Alina was left thoroughly startled, like a shocked little doe.
Though they were in the freezing snow and ice, her body temperature couldn't help but shoot up by several degrees.
Through a layer of padded winter clothing, Alina could distinctly feel that the air trapped between the layers of their garments was blistering hot.
"Alina! I, I.........."
"Let's go inside first before we talk about anything else, alright?"
Alina's gentle, soothing voice once again smoothed away the anxiety and worry deep in Talulah's heart.
".........Alright."
As the nearly whimpering reply sounded, Alina smiled, gave a quiet wave of her hand behind her back, and led Talulah into the house.
At that moment, it felt as though Talulah was the Elaphia of the two.
..............
Once inside, the feeling of having recovered what was lost made Talulah cling tightly to Alina like a koala, unwilling to part for a long time.
Alina could only let out a sigh, walking over to the edge of the bed to set down the basket in her hand.
As an Infected villager, she had never experienced treatment that felt so close to kindling meeting a blazing fire; usually, she received little more than cold stares from others.
Yet after the Catastrophe, when the fields could no longer be farmed, two or three houses had collapsed, and seven or eight people had perished, everyone tacitly pushed the secret of the Infected to the bottom of their hearts, keeping a mutual unspoken understanding.
Things were manageable enough; those locusts of the Infected Inspectorate always acted on whim and could be sent away with a bit of money and grain.
Even so, the arrival of the Reunion Movement ultimately brought tangible new hope to these people struggling at the bottom of society.
Beneath that hope, however, Alina also clearly perceived the lurking crisis.
While Talulah's heroic posture charging at the forefront of the ranks was undoubtedly dashing, it also meant she bore far too many injuries that should never have fallen upon her shoulders.
Talulah might not realize it, but Alina could spot it instantly; the root cause of it all remained that piece of Originium on her own arm.
A glorious leader in front of others was, behind the scenes, just another tragic soul..........
Alina shook her head to herself, patted Talulah's back, and then gently distanced the two of them.
"Talulah........."
Alina stared at Talulah's face, made even more sickly pale by the events of the previous night, and tenderly touched the frostbite and calluses on her hands that had no business being there. One hand crept up from her arm to cup her slightly chilled face, gazing into her amber pupils.
And Talulah had already dissolved into a tearful mess.
The tiny, almost cramped little cabin transported her back in an instant to the happy life of over twenty years ago.
Back then, ignorant of the world's troubles, she used to play joyfully with her younger sister in their home in Lungmen...........
She could never go back.
Ever since that rainy night in 1067, there was no going back.
Koschei had trained her to be a successor, not a mere chess piece.
Koschei understood this point, and she understood it even better.
She had to shed her innocence and naivety, confront the dark side of this world, and even stand alone as an enemy to the entire world.
She began to detest "familial affection," yet deep in her heart she harbored an infinite yearning for that very affection she deserved.
Internally conflicted, she had to appear unyielding on the outside.
She was like a pressure cooker: inside were the emotions and humanity she struggled to keep hidden, alongside the contradiction of loving and wanting to be loved; while on the outside stood the entire Reunion Movement, the first step in the liberation struggle of the Infected, and the "expectations" forcibly imposed upon her by Koschei.
Yet the feeling Alina gave her struck straight at her soul—
And because of that, she once again felt a wave of dependency that she thought had long since faded.
She stared into Alina's gray eyes, which reflected her own tear-stained gaze.
The two embraced tightly once more, silent for a long while.
Two lonely souls forged an unbendable connection.
After a long time, Alina finally took the initiative to release Talulah.
"Tal, you've been charging at the front of the ranks for far, far too long. It's time to rest. People aren't machines; they can't keep moving forever. Even machines need maintenance, let alone people! Right?"
"...........Mm."
"Look at you, these calluses on your hands, this frostbite on your feet........... Your boots aren't warm enough. I'll weave you some sedge grass insoles and use white radishes to poultice those, and we'll see how it looks in two or three days."
"...........Mm!"
Alina sat back, lifted Talulah's thigh, and rested her lower leg and foot across her own lap.
Then, the sorrow in her eyes grew even heavier—
Judging from the pale skin of this leg and the delicate texture of the parts hidden beneath her clothes, it was easy to tell that the owner had lived a very comfortable life previously, at least as part of the middle class—
Yet the irregular dark purple frostbites, dark red sores, scars left by Originium Arts blasts, the marks of Oripathy, and protruding Originium crystals upon it were shocking to behold.
It was hard to imagine what this leader of the Infected organization had endured during the resistance, but these scars spoke volumes without a single word.
Especially the frostbite on the arch of her foot; Alina had previously only ever seen that on her own father.
A Vouivre's—
"...........This of yours has to be treated."
The sorrow in Alina's eyes swiftly transformed into sternness, only for her to look up and find Talulah blushing so furiously she didn't know where to turn her gaze.
"...........hmpf."
*Ursus curse* are you *curse* blushing for!
Though she was screaming wildly inside, Alina still stiffly turned her head back bit by bit.
..........
Alina practically fled into the kitchen and fled right back out.
She first took a small ointment from the bedside table, applied it to the scars and wounds, and then laid freshly sliced white radishes over the frostbite.
Feeling the cool relief at the wound sites, Talulah settled down considerably, though she still turned her head back with a blushing face.
Then, she caught sight of Alina, whose flush had not yet faded, earnestly treating her wounds.
A Red Dragon should never have suffered such injuries; even frostbite should have been difficult for her to contract.
Yet she had constantly walked at the forefront of the ranks, always trying to use her own strength to tear open a wide path for her people.
A true Drako, during the deities' war ten thousand years ago, could annihilate vast swathes of Kazdelian industrial cities with a single deep breath.
And the frostbite left on her body and the exhaustion of the previous night were proof that this little Drako had long since pushed herself to the absolute limit.
Fortunately, she had met the person who needed her most precisely when she needed someone most.
Talulah managed a faint smile.
Then, the very next moment, her face instantly grew hotter than the sun—
"Talulah, you must have taken quite a few hits. Come on, take off your clothes and let me take a look."
"This.......... this isn't very appropriate.........."