Shigamatsu Academy — a place of education for the higher and middle nobility.

  In one of the training halls stood a young man with a cold gaze and light hair. He glanced out the window, where a cloudless sky stretched. However, something made him uneasy: trembling dots and a strange, faint glow.

  "Don't get distracted!" came the loud voice of the instructor. "Today is the last day of training, so your duel will be the final one of this academic year!"

  "Yes, sir!" nodded the young man.

  His opponent sneered.

  "You've been acting like this all year! You think you're the coolest?" he hissed. "I'm from the Yukinashita clan, one of the main clans!"

  The crowd of spectators cheered, shouting words of approval.

  "Both of you! Start the duel!"

  Both fighters drew their swords.

  "BEGIN!" commanded the instructor.

  In the next second, the silent young man was right in front of his opponent, the cold blade of his sword halting just at the opponent's throat.

  "Five meters... in one second..." murmured someone from the crowd.

  The instructor sighed, carefully watching the young man.

  "Used his body wisely... accelerated using his inhumanly developed legs. No wonder he's his son... He looks like an ordinary guy, but under that attire lies years of training and conditioning that began in childhood. He has enormous potential..."

  The Crunch of Snow

  The icy wind cut across their cheeks as the father and son walked through the snow-covered grove. In their hands were axes, and heavy backpacks hung from their backs.

  "Let's start from here," the father said shortly.

  The son nodded silently, dropped his backpack into the snow, and began inspecting the trees, checking the strength of the bark.

  "The weather is lenient today," the father continued, gazing at the sky. "What do you think, how long will it last?"

  Kyeske merely shrugged.

  "Again, silent as always…" the father sighed heavily, then swung his axe, embedding it into the trunk of a tree.

  Twelve years ago, the world was buried under snow. First, powerful underground tremors shook the earth, then the sky was illuminated by a strange green light. And then came the cold. Merciless, all-consuming.

  The temperature dropped to minus sixty. Kingdoms and villages crumbled like house of cards. People fought for clothing, fuel, even for a breath of warm air. A year later, the population of the world had been halved. Twelve years after that, people no longer dreamed of spring—ten-degree frost was considered good weather.

  Gold and silver turned into useless metals. They were replaced by fuel—the only currency that could buy warmth and life.

  The Nakamura family, fleeing from the disaster, resettled in a small village. They survived as best as they could: gathering wood, hunting, trading coal for food.

  Nakamura, the head of the family, was a former soldier accustomed to harsh conditions. His wife, Ichinose, had lost her mother when the frost first began to strangle the world. The eldest son, Kyeske, had always been reserved. The younger one, Hataro, on the other hand, warmed the family with his smile and kindness. Their sister, Kaede, was born into this new world—a world where childhood ended before it even began.

  "Be careful! It's about to fall!" Nakamura shouted, watching as the tree trunk slowly leaned.

  Kyeske jumped aside, then, without wasting time, took a saw and began to cut the wood. By evening, half of the log was already in the cart.

  "That’s enough for today," Nakamura said. "Time to head home."

  They took the reins of the horse and started the journey back. The road took about an hour, but fatigue vanished as soon as they saw Hataro running toward them.

  "You’re finally back!" His smile was warm, despite the frost.

  The crackling of burning wood, laughter, and voices — the family sat at the table, enjoying a rare moment of warmth and comfort. Father was telling funny stories from his life before the Cataclysm. The children laughed, unaware that their father had once served in a secret military organization of the kingdom. They thought he had just been an ordinary soldier.

  Ichinose placed a pot of fragrant fish soup on the table.

  — Thanks to your efforts, we’ll have a nice dinner tonight, — she said with a warm smile.

  After the Cataclysm, many plants became hard to come by due to the harsh cold. However, people found ways to grow crops in special greenhouses. These technologies had been close to completion before the disaster, but now only the wealthiest could afford them.

  The eldest son, Kyeske, smiled as he saw the boiled rice. Once a common food before the Cataclysm, it had now become a luxury.

  — Dig in, everyone, — Nakamura said with a smile.

  — Thank you for the food! — the family replied in unison as they began eating.

  Hataro beamed with joy.

  — It’s so tasty!

  Ichinose looked at him tenderly.

  After dinner, it was already late, and everyone went to bed. Hataro and Kyeske shared a room with a bunk bed.

  — Kye, are you asleep? — came the younger brother’s whisper.

  — Not yet, — Kyeske replied quietly.

  — Do you think we’ll ever be able to eat rice every day?

  Kyeske looked down. He knew how hard that would be. But looking into his brother’s eyes, he couldn’t tell him the truth.

  — Don’t worry. Your big brother will do everything to make sure we can eat it every day… I promise.

  He reached out and gently patted Hataro’s head. In that moment, Kyeske understood: he had to become stronger, gather more resources, and protect his family.

  — Go to sleep, Hataro, — he said with a gentle smile.

  Kyeske woke up before everyone else. He dressed quietly, took some dry kindling, split logs, and a few small bags of charcoal. He carefully loaded it all onto a cart, making sure it wasn’t too heavy.

  — Did you eat? — came a voice.

  Kyeske flinched — he hadn’t noticed Ichinose enter the room.

  — Headed out early? — she approached him and placed a small vial of liquid fuel into his hand.

  This little bottle was incredibly valuable. After the disaster, fuel had become more precious than gold, and even a small container could be traded for something useful.

  — Take this and buy something tasty for Hataro. His birthday is soon, — his mother said.

  Kyeske nodded. He already knew where and how to trade this valuable resource. In his mind, he was calculating all possible options — which traders were in town, what supplies they had, and which goods were in short supply. He had already planned how to get a gift for his brother, but now he had an extra chance to find something special.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Ichinose leaned in and kissed her son on the forehead.

  — Safe travels.

  Kyeske clenched his fist. Everything was going according to plan. He had no doubt — he would get what he set out for. For his family. For his brother.

  Kyeske set out — the road to the nearest trading town took about five hours on horseback.

  After two hours, he felt the cold creeping under his clothes, stiffening his movements. Taking a short break, he lit a fire, rubbing his frozen fingers.

  — Pulling this cart is no easy task… — he muttered, tossing dry twigs into the flames.

  The silence of the winter forest pressed down on him, but suddenly he caught an unnatural crunch in the snow. Grabbing his axe, Kyeske shot to his feet, tense like a drawn bowstring.

  Two figures emerged from behind the trees. Their clothes were worn, but on their shoulders was an emblem Kyeske recognized instantly — the city of marauders, known as the “City of Sin.”

  — What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere, kid?

  Their voices were lazy and drawn out, but their gazes were sharp, like vultures. Their eyes gleamed greedily as they scanned the cart.

  — Tough hauling that alone, huh? — the second marauder smirked, eyeing the charcoal. — Looks like you’ve got a good haul, right?

  — Pretty decent, — his partner added, not taking his eyes off Kyeske.

  One of them stepped closer, leaned in, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  — We’ll help you out… and you’ll give us a little bit of that charcoal.

  Kyeske didn’t reply. He just stared up at them from under his brow.

  — What’s wrong with you? Scared? We won’t hurt you, kid.

  A sticky, strained smile.

  — Come on… we’re not bad people.

  Kyeske whispered barely audibly:

  — Bastards…

  — What was that?!

  But no answer came — only a sudden elbow strike to the throat. The marauder gasped, clutching his neck, and dropped to his knees.

  — You little shit!

  The second lunged forward, but Kyeske stepped into him and swung his axe down hard on the back of his head. A dull thud — and the snow turned crimson.

  The last marauder froze, paling.

  — Do you even know what you’ve done? — his voice trembled. — You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into!

  But Kyeske just stared at him. That gaze — cold and hollow — sent chills down the marauder’s spine.

  — Tch… — he backed away.

  Too late. In the blink of an eye, Kyeske was already in front of him.

  The marauder flinched, pulling a knife, but was immediately knocked to the ground by a precise move.

  — Wait! I’ll give you dry fuel! No, liquid! As much as you want!

  — Shut up.

  The whisper was more terrifying than a scream. Despair froze in the marauder’s eyes, but he didn’t get a chance to say another word. One clean strike — and the snow turned red again.

  Kyeske exhaled heavily, wiping the blade.

  — I’ll never get used to this…

  With a stone-cold expression, he began stripping the clothes off the lifeless bodies.

  The main reason he traveled alone — was the marauders. In the hands of experienced prey, the hunter becomes the hunted.

  His family would never approve of this. That’s why once a month, or every two, he goes to the city alone.

  And no one must ever find out.

  While going through their belongings, Kyeske found three small flasks of liquid fuel, two new firestarters, some charcoal, and a bottle of wine. Carefully packing everything into his travel bag, he continued on his way.

  At the entrance to the city stood guards. Kyeske was well known here — in the city, they called him Yaso (Silence).

  — Oh, it’s Yaso! Without your father today? Why are you covered in blood? — one of the guards asked.

  — Ran into some wolves on the road, — Kyeske said quietly.

  — Lucky you survived... Well, alright, hand over your axe and go on in.

  The guard, named Grand, had been stationed there for seven years. In the past, he’d worked as an instructor and teacher at the Shigamatsu Academy.

  The city was called Star. It had been founded by a group of fugitives — a former aristocrat of the Esmar Kingdom and two of his main merchants. They realized the country was doomed and decided to flee. Coming across a small but well-located village, they gathered laborers with promises of a better future. Using the materials they’d brought, they began construction — but the conditions were harsh, and many peasants perished.

  Over time, the settlement grew into an independent city. The cataclysm only accelerated its development. The founders saw profit in chaos — they introduced their own currency, established their own laws, and turned Star into one of the largest trade hubs. Others followed a similar path: ten major families of Esmar founded their own cities, hidden in remote areas.

  After handing over his axe, Kyeske entered the city and headed straight for the exchange point. The three flasks of liquid fuel were traded for 300 stars — the local currency bearing the symbol of a star.

  Next, he went to the grocery store Lily.

  — Did you hear? The king was killed by people from the City of Sin…

  — They’re not afraid of anything.

  — Why would they be? They’re from the Shibuya families — they seized power immediately.

  — What if they come here..?

  As he walked through the streets, Kyeske overheard such conversations, but paid them no mind. The city wasn’t all that big — mostly hotels, shops, and a residential area.

  At the store, he was greeted by the shopkeeper.

  — Oh, Yaso! No father with you today? How’s he doing?

  Without saying a word, Kyeske raised a thumbs-up.

  — Still the same, huh? — the girl laughed.

  He traded 200 coins for rice and other supplies, then headed for the exit.

  — Come again, we’ll be happy to see you! — the shopkeeper said warmly.

  Kyeske nodded and walked out.

  Next, he visited the tools and materials store. There, he quietly traded kindling, logs, and 50 coins for water filters, shovels, and a small axe — a gift for Hataro.

  Heading home in the dark was too dangerous. Kyeske decided to stay the night at the Red Shore inn.

  The inn was two stories tall: the first floor had the front desk and a dining area, and the second had ten small rooms. It was a budget place — exactly why Kyeske chose it.

  He ordered the cheapest dinner — soup and water — and paid 20 coins for a room and another 20 for a spot for his horse.

  The next morning, with the first rays of sunlight, he left the city without incident and made his way home.

  On the road, he didn’t encounter a single soul. It took him four hours to reach the house. At the gate, Ichinose greeted him.

  — Welcome back, son!

  From around the corner came a joyful shout. Hataro ran out, waving excitedly.

  Kyeske silently began unloading the cart.

  — That’s quite a haul... Where did you get all this? — Ichinose asked in surprise.

  — I came across a broken group. Probably predators... — Kyeske muttered, avoiding her gaze.

  Ichinose’s face immediately hardened.

  — That’s looting, Kyeske. You know that’s not right. Why would you take from the unfortunate?

  — We need to survive too, — he replied calmly. — If I hadn’t taken it, someone else would’ve.

  — That doesn’t make it right. It’s not your place to take what isn’t yours.

  Kyeske tightened the cart’s straps. Anger flared inside him, but he didn’t let it show.

  “Why do you cling to morality in a world that’s crumbling before our eyes?”

  Hearing the argument, Nakamura stepped into the room.

  — What’s going on here?

  Ichinose quickly explained the situation. While she spoke, Kyeske stood with his gaze lowered, thinking of just one thing — they didn’t understand how small moral codes had become when each day was a battle to survive.

  — I’ll talk to him, — Nakamura said and gently led his wife out.

  — Son… I understand why you did what you did. But it’s important to stay human. Always.

  Kyeske looked at him for the first time. And for the first time — with rage.

  — Stay human? You killed people even before the Cataclysm... And now you’re suddenly the righteous one?

  His voice trembled. Not from fear — from anger. Nakamura fell silent, caught off guard. He didn’t expect this from his son.

  — I just want you to understand us, — he said quietly.

  — I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Hataro and Kaede have everything they need.

  — We want that too. But not at the cost of our humanity. Think about it… Will you be any better than those who kill the weak for gain?

  Kyeske didn’t answer. He just turned away.

  — I’m glad you understood. Let’s go eat.

  But he hadn’t understood. And he didn’t try to. For him, there was no more belief in “rightness” — not in this world, where survival had become the only rule.

  The next day was Hataro’s birthday. From the morning, the house was filled with bustle — everyone was preparing for the celebration. Nakamura took his son into the woods — fulfilling Hataro’s long-time dream: to join the family’s work.

  As evening fell, they returned home. Inside, a surprise awaited them. The table was set, everyone was smiling. Hataro was glowing with joy: his favorite vegetables, rice, and finally — the congratulations.

  — Hataro, — Kyeske said with a gentle smile, ruffling his brother’s hair.

  He pulled out an axe and held it out. — This is for you.

  Hataro squealed with excitement, hugged Kyeske, and laughed.

  — Soon you’ll be joining us out there, — Nakamura winked.

  The evening ended on a warm note. The home filled with joy, laughter, and peace. For just one day, the world beyond the walls felt distant.

  A week had passed. Kyeske and Nakamura continued their usual work — chopping firewood. Autumn had taken hold. It was the time to gather everything they could, as winter in these parts was merciless: temperatures dropping to -30°C, blizzards covering all life, and days when stepping outside meant challenging death itself.

  For now, it was still bearable. Summer was gone, but snow only fell occasionally, laying in thin layers on the ground. Kyeske could already feel the cold in his fingers as the bare branches creaked overhead.

  — I think we should take a break, — Nakamura said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  He cleared snow off a large stone and began starting a fire using liquid fuel. The snow was dense and dry, and the stone was the only place where a fire could be lit.

  — Dad... — Kyeske suddenly whispered.

  Nakamura turned around.

  A pack of wolves. At least eight. Shadows against the white. Narrow-eyed, they watched from behind the trees, slowly advancing.

  Nakamura grabbed his axe immediately.

  — No sudden movements, — he said quietly.

  The wolves, wary of a direct assault, began to spread out, slowly herding them into a corner. At that moment, the horse, sensing danger, bolted, leaving the cart and its owners behind.

  — Light the torch! — Nakamura shouted.

  With trembling hands, Kyeske grabbed a torch, splashed it with fuel... but couldn't find the firestarter.

  — Where’s the torch?! — Nakamura roared as one of the wolves lunged at him. He struck the beast on the skull with the flat side of his axe, and it collapsed, but the others grew fiercer.

  — Where the hell is the firestarter?! — he shouted again.

  Kyeske’s gaze darted to the fire. It was there. The wolves were already near it.

  — Run!

  — What?..

  — I said RUN! Someone has to hold them off!

  Nakamura stepped forward, planting his foot on the neck of the fallen wolf and yanked his axe free.

  — Don’t play the hero! — Kyeske shouted in despair.

  His father only looked at him… and smiled.

  Everything was in that glance — pain, pride, farewell. Kyeske froze, teeth clenched, heart pounding like mad.

  He threw his axe to his father — and ran.

  Nakamura shrugged off his coat, caught both axes, and turned to face the pack.

  Kyeske ran, stumbling, gasping for air, choking on sobs. The snow crunched beneath him, snapping like breaking bones.

  Two wolves gave chase. No weapon. No chance to fight.

  Only running.

  Bitterness. Helplessness. Guilt. It all consumed him at once.