How to Save a Time-Limited Heroine - Ch. 47

After dealing with the demon, things moved quickly.

From that moment, Deltain’s sedan raced nonstop towards the snowy mountains, and exactly 10 hours later, they arrived at the base of the snowy peaks.

“Get out.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, from here on, it’s the spirit’s territory.”

Agnes looked out at the snowy mountain. No matter how high she raised her head, she couldn’t see the top. The summit was obscured by clouds.

A small gasp of admiration escaped her lips.

“We’re going all the way to the top, right?”

“I’m not making you climb.”

“Are you going to carry me?”

“Kaltara will.”

“No, thanks.”

“What?”

Deltain frowned.

Agnes clung to him immediately.

“You carry me.”

“What kind of nonsense is this?”

“Kaltara’s too stiff, the ride’s uncomfortable.”

Without waiting for an answer, Agnes wrapped herself around Deltain.

He let out a faint sigh of irritation, but then adjusted her in his arms and got out of the car.

He didn’t want to waste any time arguing.

Click.

The car door opened, and a cold wind swept over the two of them.

“Whoa, it’s freezing.”

“Wait.”

<Activate 4^th Tier Magic: Subspace.>

Deltain summoned a black void, pulling out a fur cloak from within.

It was pitch black and fluffy, large enough to wrap around Agnes entirely.

She glanced at it for a moment and said.

“Should we share it?”

“No need.”

“Why? Aren’t you cold?”

“I don’t get cold or hot. Mana sustains my body.”

“That’s really convenient.”

As they chatted, Deltain swiftly wrapped the fur cloak around Agnes.

Soon, she was bundled up like a caterpillar, letting out a soft <Oh> in surprise.

“It’s so warm and soft. Why did you make this? Was it for me?”

“It’s something I wore before.”

It was from a time when he couldn’t even cast 3^rd tier magic properly.

He shuddered, recalling how he’d spent a week relying on that cloak while searching for a hidden chapter boss in the northern snowfields. Agnes giggled.

“Even an Arch Mage wasn’t perfect from the start, huh?”

Deltain didn’t bother to respond.

“… let’s go. Gerhart, stay and guard the car.”

“Yes.”

Crunch.

The sound of snow underfoot echoed as Deltain disappeared into the snowy mountain.

*

The terrain of the mountain was rugged, and the path twisted endlessly.

That wasn’t all. The snowstorms kept erasing their footprints, so even a moment’s carelessness could cause them to lose their way.

In Deltain’s arms, Agnes asked.

“Are we going the right way?”

“No.”

“Huh?”

“We can’t go the right way.”

Agnes blinked.

“Then shouldn’t we stop moving?”

“We need to keep going. We’re not trying to find a path; we’re trying to lure out the barbarians.”

Deltain’s breath made a mist in the cold air as he spoke.

“This place is twisted by the spirits’ protection. Only barbarians blessed by the spirits can find their way here. So, we need to lure them out and capture them.”

“Ah, so we’re going to use them as guides?”

“Exactly.”

As he said that, Deltain spread his mana widely.

‘There are some guys lurking nearby…’

But they showed no signs of approaching.

Of course, if they were that easy to catch, the cuckoo wouldn’t have said he’d need to come all the way here.

‘What should I do…’

The barbarians of the snowy mountains were highly cautious, and a careless attack could scare them all away.

If that happened, the only thing left would be to freeze to death, wandering aimlessly in the mountains.

Deltain glanced at Kaltara.

Despite the cold, she was yawning lazily, wearing nothing but thin clothing.

“Kaltara.”

“Hm?”

“Can you catch them?”

“I can’t bring them back alive! But if a corpse will do, I can go!”

Kaltara laughed loudly.

Deltain clicked his tongue.

Then, suddenly—

Crunch.

A sound came from nearby.

Immediately, a small gasp followed from the direction of the noise.

It was clearly the presence of a person.

As soon as Deltain realized this, his hounds moved.

“Oops!”

The first to leap into action was Kaltara.

With a thunderous crash, she launched herself towards the source of the sound, blocking the retreat.

Next were Jevis and Pobler, who flanked the presence from both sides, forming a tight encirclement.

Galan blocked the front, completing the trap.

“Did we get him?”

“Seems like it.”

Deltain leisurely stepped into the circle.

Inside was…

“… a child?”

It was none other than a child.

With dark brown skin, jet-black hair and eyes, and a blue fur outfit that wrapped tightly around his entire body, the child trembled like an earthquake.

Clutching a small bow tightly, he seemed ready to put up some sort of resistance, but as soon as Kaltara grabbed him by the back of the neck, that determination faded.

“P-please spare me!”

The child’s high-pitched cry echoed, but no one came to his aid.

‘They all ran away.’

As soon as the child was captured, the other barbarians had fled.

The child seemed to realize this, and his face turned pale, his jaw trembling.

“Did… did they abandon me…?”

Rather than abandonment, they had likely gone to seek help.

It was no surprise, really, since the barbarians all fled in the same direction.

However, Deltain had no intention of telling the truth.

‘I can use this.’

As soon as the presence disappeared, the child’s face turned pale, showing that he was easily frightened.

The fact that the child immediately assumed he was <abandoned> revealed their usual behavior.

Above all else.

‘He looks stupid.’

Too foolish to even keep a safe distance, which got him captured.

This could definitely be exploited.

Deltain approached the child and made eye contact.

Then, with a small smile, he said.

“Yeah, it looks like they abandoned you.”

“Gasp!”

“How cruel of them. Even though they were your comrades and family, they didn’t even look back as they left you.”

Betrayal began to surface on the child’s face.

“I-I…”

“You tried hard to stop an outsider from breaking in. This is really unfair. Stay strong.”

As Deltain offered these words of comfort, the child began to tremble, making a faint sound like <Krrgh!>

It was almost hard to believe he trusted him so easily, but what could be done?

‘This is why barbarians are so easy to handle.’

Humans without education were no different from beasts.

This was a saying that Deltain had come to realize after being thrown into this game.

In a closed environment, only limited knowledge was passed on.

Such intellectual deficiency soon led to carelessness.

Barbarians were the epitome of such tendencies.

“Hey, kid.”

The child lifted his head.

What the child saw was a man with bright red hair that didn’t suit this snowy mountain at all, grinning with golden eyes.

In his arms was the most beautiful woman the child had ever seen, staring blankly at the man.

The fact that this man had comforted him earlier and hadn’t resorted to violence led the child to think that these people might not be dangerous.

“Y-yes…?”

“What’s your name?”

The child flinched at the question, then cautiously answered.

“… Orga.”

“Alright, Orga.”

Deltain placed a hand on the child’s shoulder.

Then, in an incredibly sweet voice, he said.

“Don’t you want revenge?”

Agnes let out a snickering sound.

But the child, Orga, had a blank expression.

“Revenge?”

“Yeah, revenge on the tribe that abandoned you.”

Deltain spoke while tightening his hold on Agnes.

“You’ll prove that you’re right and they’re wrong.”

Unconditional affirmation and encouragement.

These were the most powerful weapons when dealing with a child.

Orga’s eyes lit up.

“I’m right…!”

Foolish Orga.

Thinking about that, Deltain’s smile deepened.

Then Orga said.

“I want revenge! Let me do it!”

Deltain nodded.

“Sure, I’ll help you.”

“Okay!”

Agnes finally burst out laughing.

*

Foolish Orga began leading Deltain and his party to the tribe’s location.

Orga was at the front, while Deltain stayed at the back of the group.

Agnes asked.

“Don’t you think there’s a chance he’s deceiving us? He’s being fooled too easily.”

“Not at all.”

“Why?”

“That kid is a future spirit master.”

Agnes tilted her head.

Then Deltain said.

“His spirit sensitivity is 6.2.”

At some point, a targeting marker appeared on Deltain’s retina, like it was dotted.

<Activate 3^rd Tier Magic: Identification.>

[Physical: 2.1

Mental Defense: 1.3

Mana Sensitivity: 2.2

Spirit Sensitivity: 6.2]

A high-ranking level of spirit sensitivity, even among spirit masters.

This could only mean one thing.

“That kid must be pretty important in their tribe. That’s why the tribe sent everyone else to call for reinforcements.”

“And how does that give you confidence he isn’t tricking us?”

“Spirit masters have to be pure.”

This was something Deltain had learned after entering the game.

A spirit master must be pure.

If they were filled with suspicion, greed, or negative emotions, spirits wouldn’t form a bond with them.

Thus, those chosen to be spirit masters were educated not to harbor doubt or negativity, which inevitably made them more susceptible to being deceived by others.

After hearing Deltain’s explanation, Agnes made a thoughtful sound before asking.

“But you planted negative emotions in him, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t. That kid doesn’t even know what revenge really means.”

Orga wasn’t interested in revenge but in the idea that <I’m right, and you’re wrong>.

That short, stubby little kid probably didn’t even realize he was putting their tribe in danger.

Agnes chuckled.

“You’re a bad man, Deltain.”

“Shut up. And why did you laugh earlier anyway?”

“How could I not laugh? You said, <Don’t you want revenge?> with such a serious face. Wouldn’t you laugh too?”

Deltain had no response.

Naturally, his mouth shut, and his cheeks turned a little red with embarrassment.

Just then, Orga shouted.

“We’re here!”

When Deltain raised his head, he saw a small village made up of long rows of cabins.

It was Orga’s tribe.

Above it was a translucent grayish-white barrier.

‘A barrier.’

It was probably a spirit barrier, installed to protect them from external threats.

“Orga-!”

Suddenly, a voice called out from within.

Soon after, an old man, frail and surrounded by guards, approached the barrier.

“Father!”

Orga called out with a bright face.

So, this old man, who looked like the chief, was Orga’s father. That clarified Orga’s role.

‘The next chieftain, perhaps.’

The information about the chieftain being someone who could communicate with spirits seemed accurate.

“What now?”

Agnes asked.

Deltain set her down, rolled his stiff shoulders, and spoke.

“First, we need to get inside.”

With that, he stepped forward.

He approached Orga, who was still waving enthusiastically at his father.

Then.

Thud!

Deltain wrapped his arm around Orga’s neck and lifted him up.

“Guh!”

Orga struggled as the faces of the chief and his guards turned pale.

Deltain smiled wickedly and said.

“If you want your son to live, open the gate.”

A look of betrayal filled Orga’s face.