Five years ago.

The bone-chilling cold wind swept through the snow-covered mountains, making a fierce sound like thousands of horses galloping. Following closely were the small avalanches that occurred dozens of times every day.

This majestic snowy mountain, known as the "Devil's Mountain" due to the popular belief that demons controlled the snow and wind within, stood in the Reles Empire border area and was also an important trade route. Many caravans took detours to avoid the mountain, losing a significant amount of profit. However, there were brave individuals who ventured into the snowy mountains with their goods, some successfully crossing the treacherous terrain and reaching the other side before other caravans. They earned a substantial amount of gold coins, proportional to the risks they took. Yet, the majority stayed behind in the relentless snowstorms that never ceased, buried in the thick snow.

Uncertain rumors of demon-like creatures residing in the mountains further strengthened the belief that the mountain was cursed. As a result, the nickname "Devil's Mountain" gradually replaced its official name, the Uler Mountain Range, becoming widely recognized. This name was fitting to the terrifying environment one must face upon entering the mountain, and the numerous buried skeletons beneath the deep snow provided ample evidence for its credibility.

Especially during winter, choosing to ascend the mountain at this time was practically no different from choosing suicide. Therefore, when Uncle Bernan was approached by a customer in a tavern, asking him to be a guide into the mountain today, one can imagine how shocked he was.

Bernan's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline, despite being bald. After his astonishment subsided, anger followed. He felt that he was being played. He stared at the young boy in front of him who appeared to be in his early teens and his voice unconsciously raised a few decibels. "Blue-haired boy, do you know the consequences of messing with me? I once..."

"Punched a fully-grown steed to death!" an enthusiastic patron interjected.

"Wait, wasn't it kicking a saber-toothed tiger away with one kick?" another patron asked his companion.

"I heard that he flipped a wild buffalo with one hand." his companion took a sip of his drink and smiled, holding back his laughter.

Laughter erupted in the tavern. Evidently, Bernan never hesitated to boast about his past deeds, and due to the influence of alcohol, his stories tended to vary.

"Shut up, all of you!" Irritated by the mockery, Bernan became even more furious. He shouted at the crowd before turning his gaze to the boy. "If you don't bring your parents here today to give me an explanation..."

The customer, dressed in a black, thick cloak, stood as tall as Bernan's waist. The face revealed from within the folds of the cloak appeared remarkably young. The striking features included his azure blue hair and eyes, and his thin lips formed a straight line, revealing an inexplicable coldness for someone of his age.

Clank! The customer threw something golden on the table in front of Bernan after he flipped open his cloak. With his head raised, he stared at an adult several heads taller than himself, showing no trace of fear. "I'm not joking."

Everyone fell silent, and even Bernan was stunned, uncertain how to respond. He picked up the item on the table - a genuine Reles Empire gold coin, depicting the profile of the Pope. Its value was enough to allow everyone in the tavern to indulge in strong liquor for a month.

A child possessing such precious wealth, but no one dared to show any hint of covetousness. That was because they saw his attire when the customer revealed himself while tossing the coin.

He wore a custom-tailored black formal suit with a neatly folded white scarf around the collar. The key point was the cross-shaped emblem on the collar... This was not the attire of an ordinary person. This semi-grown child was actually a clergyman of the Holy See, and judging by the shiny silver texture of the emblem, his position was probably not low.

Without that emblem, he would have been nothing more than a minor noble. The guides who dared to lead people through Devil's Mountain were all men of dubious character. The extravagant demeanor of a nobleman was not as effective in these remote borderland taverns as the force of a fist.

Clergymen, however, were different. The guides of the borderland snow mountains were not believers, hence they naturally did not fear any divine punishment. However, the very practical reality was that if anyone dared to harm a clergyman recorded by the Holy See, the largest religious organization in the history of the Reles Empire, then the organization would pursue that person to the ends of the earth. In fact, before that person could reach the end of the earth, they would have died several hundred times already. The influence of the Holy See may not be omnipresent, but at least there was a borderland garrison of the Holy See that could be mobilized near the Devil's Mountain.

However, there was also something strange. What was a minor clergyman of the Holy See doing in this barren land, and without any accompany?

No one dared to question the clergyman, and Bernan felt somewhat embarrassed. "Well... Your Excellency..."

"This is the deposit. After you guide me into the mountain, I will pay you the entire commission. Ten gold coins in total," the young clergyman remained expressionless. "But we must leave now.""But it's winter now, Your Excellency," Bernard imagined the value of ten gold coins and swallowed his saliva. But in the end, he felt that this money was earned with life and couldn't be spent with death. He tried his best to force a smile on his face. "Your Excellency, why not stay in the town until spring. Then I will organize a team to take you into the mountains, I promise..."

"I said, I want to leave now." The young priest didn't back down at all, interrupting Bernard's words. "I know you are the most experienced guide here, that's why I came to find you. This is not a trade, it's an order."

"Are you asking me to go to my death!" Bernard went crazy, slamming the gold coins on the table. He said the bravest thing he had ever said in his life: "I don't care about any orders. Even if the Pope comes today, I won't go into the mountains! Who do you think you are, little priest? I challenge you..."

He stopped halfway through the word "challenge" when the muzzle touched his chin. The cold metal sent shivers down his spine.

The small priest's hand emerged from his cloak, holding an imperial military-style handgun. Although it had neither the range nor the power of the military's standard long guns, it would certainly blow a hole in Bernard's head at such close range. His deep blue eyes still emanated a cold light under his long eyelashes. He repeated his previous words, "This is not a trade, it's an order."

Cold sweat broke out on Bernard's forehead and slid down his temples. Who would have thought that such a little child would have such a deadly weapon in his hands? No wonder he dared to come to this tavern alone. It turned out that he had two things in his hands from the beginning - the handgun and the gold coins. This was indeed not a trade, and Bernard had no choice.

"I... I will go! I will prepare right away!" Bernard's courage came and went quickly. He believed that everyone would understand him. When someone pointed a gun at you like this, any person would know what to say and what to do.

"No need to prepare." The small priest took a few steps back, still pointing the gun at Bernard. His other hand pointed at the tavern's door. "Let's go now."

So, two hours later, the two of them were already walking in the snowy mountains. The Devil's Mountain truly lived up to its name, with not only harsh conditions but also complex terrain. Without the help of a guide, outsiders would have no chance of survival. Once they stepped into the blizzard that shrouded the mountainside all day long, they couldn't even distinguish the four directions.

Bernard led the way with a lifeless face, while the small priest followed closely behind with the handgun raised. His blue bangs danced in the cold wind as his fair fingers rested on the trigger.

"Your Excellency... We didn't bring any supplies or manpower. Not to mention this winter Devil's Mountain, even in normal times, it's suicide to go in without them." Bernard's eyebrows were almost knit into one, but death was inevitable and he couldn't resist it. So he chose to reason with the little master of the priest: "My daughter is only six years old, she will be left without a father. I guess Your Excellency's parents..."

"Shut up." The small priest's face turned cold, and his finger involuntarily pulled the trigger. Fortunately, it wasn't heavy, so the trigger just made a crisp "click" sound without firing.

Bernard's spine chilled, and he dared not speak out of turn anymore. He thought his life was probably going to end early. This blue-haired brat must have a problem with his brain. Not to mention anything else, he didn't even bring food. He didn't want to go to the mountains, he wanted death!

"Go left here." The two of them stood at a fork in the road, and Bernard pointed to the left. "We're lucky not to have encountered the blizzard so far, but it ends here. The real Devil's Mountain starts here at this intersection... Going left is the mountainside. In the warm season, it's the safest route to go through Devil's Mountain along the mountainside. We can reach the other side in at most five days. Of course... provided we don't encounter an avalanche and we can conjure up food, a bonfire and tents out of thin air."

"What about the right?"

"The right side leads to the mountaintop. If we keep going straight, we can reach it today, but it's a dead end. Devil's Mountain's mountaintop only has a way up, and no way down. The other side is a cliff."

"Then let's go right." The small priest looked into the distance at the road on the right, which couldn't be called a road at all, but just a direction. White extended all the way to the end of the line of sight, and the turbulent clouds roared like wild beasts over there.

"Your Excellency, don't you understand... When I said we could go up today, I meant only the distance!" Bernard sighed and put his hand on his forehead as if saying, "I knew it." "In fact, it's a real dead end because the blizzard above Devil's Mountain never stops. No one who goes in has ever come back."The young priest glanced over there again, his face turning red from the cold. This made him look like a shy little girl, but his deep blue, crystal-clear eyes were frozen with something colder than a snowstorm. "Since no one has ever come back, how do you know it leads to the mountaintop?"

"Well, actually someone did come back. It was an old local guide from the town below."

"Then why do the people in town say that you're the most experienced here?"

"Because that old guy went crazy. Ever since he returned from the mountaintop, he's been saying that he saw the devil's fingers..."

"The devil's fingers?"

"According to him, those fingers were tens of meters wide and reached all the way to the sky... But that's just nonsense. If there were fingers like that, we could see them right here."

The young priest looked at the mountaintop for the third time, lost in thought.

But he let his guard down. This was exactly what Bellan was waiting for. The bald and muscular man charged towards him without any regard, catching the young priest off guard and knocking him to the ground. His handgun fell a few steps away.

"You little bastard, don't blame me for being ruthless. You brought this upon yourself!" Bellan slapped the young priest's face, causing his head to turn to the side. Half of his face visibly swelled up rapidly.

Bellan initially intended to run away, but as he took a step forward, he suddenly remembered something and immediately turned around. He happened to catch sight of the young priest reaching for the handgun.

"People say that those who believe in religion are kind-hearted and benevolent. Why is this brat so wicked? If you want to die, then die! Why drag me down with you!?" Bellan hastily kicked the young priest's hand away, then picked up the handgun and aimed it at the young priest.

"Although it's unlikely, if you manage to survive and come back, then I'm doomed. Since you came to this mountain to seek death, I'll let you go first!" As if to bolster his courage, Bellan shouted without consideration and pulled the trigger.

Bang! The deafening sound echoed. This was his first time using a firearm, and the powerful recoil pushed him back a step. A burst of blood splattered from the young priest's chest, staining the snowy ground red.

Bellan saw that he hit his target and didn't dare to stay any longer. He discarded the handgun and quickly ran back the way he came. This was a snow-covered mountain, and with the shouting and gunshots, he might trigger an avalanche.

If this kid could survive this shot and escape from the snow mountain, then Bellan had nothing to say. It would mean that the young priest truly had a divine presence protecting him.

The young priest closed his eyes and lay back in the snow, estimating when Bellan had gone far enough before opening his eyes and coughing out a mouthful of blood. Gradually, he sat up, gently touching his chest.

The other man was not a soldier, but it was hard to believe that this border ruffian was using a firearm for the first time. He hit the young priest's chest with near-perfect accuracy. However, because this brute was using it for the first time, he didn't realize that the bullets in the handgun were actually blanks, lacking the lethal power. The young priest had acquired the handgun with difficulty, and live ammunition was even harder to find, so he substituted it with blank rounds used in military training—a makeshift solution.

That being said, he was just a child after all, and that blank round still broke his ribs. Enduring immense pain, his eyes twitched, but he remained silent from beginning to end. After silently resting for a while, he stood up straight, still looking towards the mountaintop.

He didn't turn back because he had followed Bellan all the way here, and now without a guide, it would be impossible to go back... even if there was a guide, he wouldn't turn back, because his original goal was not to reach the other side of this snowy mountain.

The small figure took a step forward, walking through the vast snow mountain. Soon, he was swallowed up by the approaching storm.

The previous tranquility was all an illusion. The true face of Devil's Peak was revealed to him in the cruelest way possible. Only now did he understand that Bellan's words of a "dead end" were not a threat. This was indeed a path of certain death. After walking only a few dozen steps, he reached his limit. The freezing winds roared from all directions, carrying tiny shards of ice.

He could hardly open his eyes and wasn't sure if he was still heading in the intended direction. The snow and wind spun wildly, uncovering the snow piles in all directions like an irresistible force. Large blocks of snow pounded against his body, and even standing required a great deal of physical strength.

This was a hell made of ice and snow. Every breath he took caused harm to his lungs. The young priest knelt in the snow, futilely scratching at his chest. He felt himself running out of air, and soon he would suffocate before freezing to death."Rocky Dolaville Oxias." A mysterious voice, carried by a strong wind, deep and ancient, chanted the name of the young acolyte, like rolling thunder, echoing in his ears from afar.

It seemed like a hallucination before his imminent death, but Rocky knew it was not, so he mustered all his strength to respond, "...it's me, I want to see you."

"I want you dead." With these words, the blizzard suddenly intensified, the wind surpassed the speed of sound, creating a series of explosions as it cut through the air. The icy particles, which had only obstructed his vision, transformed into sharp blades, effortlessly tearing through his cloak and the fine attire beneath, carving countless blossoms of blood upon his flesh.

Rocky collapsed into the snowy ground, unable to speak. So, he closed his eyes and awaited the numerous reapers swinging their scythes, ready to cut him into pieces within the ice and snow.

Strangely, the blizzard gradually ceased, and Devil's Peak, rarely seen amidst the storm, was bathed in sunlight that streamed down from the highest point of the sky. And then, the voice resurfaced, "Is this how you resign yourself...don't you desire revenge?"

Rocky lifted his head, and in his azure eyes, a towering spire pierced into the heavens reflected.

It wasn't a devil's finger, but a magical tower.

The magical tower of a sorcerer.