Archie shakes his head in refusal, "No, it's not about willingness. The Mystery Tungsten Ore is a quasi-military controlled resource. After a few days, all these mine slaves will be executed, including Aaron."

  "Moreover, he was trained by Master Rhine. Currently, the consortium's upper management, who oversee the mine resources, are arch-enemies with Master Rhine's faction. We can't afford to create trouble for ourselves."

  "Lastly, I've heard that Aaron has a severe head condition. In the Pharmacist profession, the brain is crucial. He could lose his Pharmacist talent at any time."

  "He's not worth the risk for us."

  "What a pity!" Theodore sighs after hearing this. "By the way, this time I've brought twice the usual amount of supplies. It'll be at least twenty days before I return to the mine, so keep track of time. This is a wilderness no-man's land, with no signal, and if you run out of food, no one will care!"

  "Why so much this time?" Archie asks.

  "There's going to be a major snowstorm in the coming days, making the wilderness roads difficult to traverse."

  Nonsense!

  Archie thinks to himself. The roads aren't the issue; it's just that this place is far and lacks any profit, so they're too lazy to come.

  "Did you bring the alcohol this time?"

  "Yes, enough for your mine to have a 'Bestowal Day' celebration."

  Inside the mine, a row of modified high-powered off-road vehicles is parked in the open area. Their extended beds are filled with various supplies.

  The drivers lower their windows, smoking and curiously scanning the surroundings.

  The mine guards are herding a group of exhausted mine slaves, who have just emerged from the tunnels, to help with unloading. They drag their weary bodies to the vehicles, open the tailgates, and start unloading the supplies.

  As they pull away the black cloth covering the goods, boxes of dried vegetables, meat, flour, wine, and an assortment of other supplies come into view.

  The sight of the supplies doesn't excite the slaves; instead, they show expressions of deep annoyance.

  These supplies mean nothing to them. After each unloading, they are searched, and anyone caught trying to take even a piece of dried vegetable is beaten severely and left to starve in the wilderness.

  Aaron steps out of a room, exchanging a glance with Twist, who is busy unloading. Aaron winks at him, and Twist nods, heading toward one of the supply vehicles.

  ……

  The god being, the Creator, bestowed life upon all things.

  As the god approached its demise, the most faithful and similar of bestowed creations betrayed it, fleeing in panic with wisdom and greed.

  The god fell, chaos erupted, and the victorious creations seized power and savagery.

  The last of the creations arrived, chosen by the god to inherit its bloodline, and vowed to bring about the world's end.

  Over millennia, the betraying creations, humans, founded an empire.

  The victorious creations, the wolf clans, established tribes.

  Those inheriting the god bloodline declared themselves gods and founded the Holy Church.

  The Empire, the Tribes, and the Church have been at war for thousands of years. The Church is located on the western continent, while the Empire and Tribes reside on the eastern continent.

  For nearly ten thousand years, the relationship between the Empire and Tribes has been relatively peaceful. Though there are minor border skirmishes, overall stability persists. In conflicts with the Church, they often join forces to repel the Church's invading legions.

  The eastern continent is divided, with the Empire in the north and the Tribes in the south.

  November 24th marks Bestowal Day.

  For the people of the eastern continent, it's a day of celebration. On this day thousands of years ago, humans gained their freedom from god servitude.

  It's the most festive day of the year, celebrated for freedom, rebirth, and the empire.

  The Mystery Tungsten Mine is no exception to the celebrations. Even the icy landscape can't dampen the guards' festive spirit.

  But first, they need to get some bothersome individuals out of sight.

  "Drive these damned mine slaves into the tunnels," one guard orders.

  "Today, you have a day off from searching for ore, but you can only enjoy your holiday in the mine tunnels."

  "Hurry up, you eyesores! Grab your food and get into the tunnels. You're not allowed to come out until tomorrow morning. If anyone comes out and ruins our fun, he will definitely pay for it. I'm serious!"

  The guards wave their batons, herding the slaves.

  "Mr. Archie, what about the Young Master?" a guard asks.

  "Just like the others, send him into the tunnels," Archie responds quietly. The Mystery Tungsten Mine won't last much longer, and Aaron is losing his usefulness. Archie no longer needs to maintain a friendship with a slave.

  Aaron is pushed into the tunnels along with the crowd.

  "Aaron," a young man calls out, catching up with him inside the mine. He's accompanied by six or seven others.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  The young man is Lazio, one of Aaron's friends. Their acquaintance was straightforward: Lazio got into a fight, lost his ore, and was left injured and near death. Aaron stepped in, helped him gather ore, and healed his wounds.

  Aaron's reason for helping Lazio was simple: Lazio is straightforward and has clear likes and dislikes, making him easy to manipulate for reciprocation.

  It's purely practical, unrelated to kindness.

  Aaron has a plan, and Lazio plays a part in it, nothing more.

  "Yeah, this isn't the place to talk. Let's go," Aaron nods, leading the group down a secluded mine tunnel.

  The other groups of mine slaves barely glance at Aaron before losing interest.

  With the Mystery Tungsten Ore becoming increasingly difficult to find, it’s not surprising that someone as frail as Aaron would join Lazio's crew.

  With this thought, the various groups turn away and head deeper into the mine.

  Even though they don't need to search for ore today, gathering tomorrow's quota in advance is always wise.

  Besides, who knows if the guards, once drunk, might decide to have some fun at the slaves' expense?

  Last year on Bestowal Day, some guards whimsically descended into the tunnels, dragging a few slaves up to play target practice for entertainment.

  With this precedent, the slaves unanimously decide to retreat to the depths of the mine this year.

  Dark, fragmented clouds stretch across the sky, signaling an impending storm. The oppressive clouds lower the heavens' head.

  In the open area, several blazing stones are placed beneath stacks of firewood. These stones ignite fiercely upon contact with sparks, making them ideal for warmth and kindling.

  With a flick, a lighter's flame sets one of the blazing stones ablaze.

  Instantly, the woodpile crackles and bursts into flames. More than ten bonfires are ignited in succession, enveloping the entire mining area in waves of heat, casting a rosy glow on everyone’s faces.

  On the tables set up outside, fresh sliced fruits, sweets, and wine are laid out. Chefs set up grills, and the aroma of roasting meat wafts through the air.

  The supplies brought in yesterday have fueled this celebration.

  The guards form small circles based on class, personal connections, hometown, and personality, chatting about life's trivial matters.

  None of them worry about the slaves escaping. These ordinary people without the force are no match for the guards. As long as one guard remains sober, a quick sweep of the trigger can eliminate a large group.

  Naturally, no one expects any slaves to dare come out.

  Those "mice" are likely exploring the depths of the mine, striving to gather the Mystery Tungsten Ore required for tomorrow.

  The celebration continues unabated.

  Zooming out to the entire Ninth Empire, dozens of regions and countless fortress cities host various festivities.

  Empire citizens don new clothes and flood the streets. Children run freely with balloons in hand. Students gather in small groups, planning outings. Couples embrace by the riverside at sunset, dreaming of an unseen future.

  At lavish balls and parties, the elite showcase their splendor, indulging in revelry from dawn till night.

  Numerous young women, eager to marry into wealth, dance exuberantly at these parties, exuding youthful charm to attract and please the influential guests. They don't mind offering a delightful evening in return.

  In the ballroom, a dapper, handsome man sets his sights on a bejeweled lady in the corner, pondering how to display his gentlemanly demeanor. Perhaps he should start by complimenting her attire!

  With a glass in hand, he approaches her, sensing her interest in him as well.

  Each fortress city is immersed in a sea of celebration. The distinction between city and wilderness is stark, with the latter dominated only by the howling winds.

  ……

  In the afternoon, Archie looks up as a small hexagonal snowflake, the size of a fingernail, falls from the sky and lands on his nose. The snowflake quickly melts from the warm, alcohol-laden breath he exhales. A chill slides down his nose, turning into warmth.

  Archie touches his nose and raises his hand to see blood. Warmth from his nose flows uncontrollably, followed by an indescribable weakness spreading through his body.

  It's as if his strength is being drained, leaving him feeling a thousand times more exhausted than after any indulgence.

  His legs begin to tremble.

  "Thud."

  Archie collapses to his knees, his eyelids feeling as heavy as if weighed down by a boulder.

  With all his might, he forces his eyes open and struggles to stand, looking around. Just minutes ago, the area was filled with people drinking and celebrating, but now everyone is on the ground, convulsing.

  The once noisy mine becomes eerily silent, save for the crackling of burning wood.

  A minute later, as his consciousness begins to fade, he sees a pair of dirty snow boots.

  Straining, Archie lifts his head.

  A young boy stands at the entrance of the mine, watching him with a faint, mocking smile.

  "Poison..." Archie realizes with a start.

  He slightly lifts his head, gazing up at the boy.

  The smile he once interpreted as submissive and respectful now seems utterly chilling.

  Archie had thought Aaron was merely a fortunate recipient of Master Rhine's legacy.

  But now, it is clear that Aaron's talent as a Pharmacist is far more terrifying than he ever imagined.

  Pharmacists are one-in-a-million geniuses, typically requiring a decade or more just to master the basics of tens of thousands of herbs. Creating a potion without guidance is considered impossible.

  Aaron, who had only been under Master Rhine's tutelage for a year, should had barely grasped the basics of herbal theory, let alone potion formulas, since Master Rhine himself was merely a novice Pharmacist.

  However, Aaron not only learned herbal knowledge but also independently concocted a potion in such a rudimentary environment.

  Although toxic potions are frowned upon by pharmacists, creating a colorless, odorless, and highly poisonous potion in a short time is a testament to Aaron's formidable talent.

  In an instant, Archie recalls many things.

  "Spare... spare me..." he mutters weakly, his voice filled with desperation and humility.

  ...

  “Poof”

  With a swift motion, Aaron withdraws the iron rod from Archie's neck, the blood staining the thin layer of snow on the ground. Twist, Lazio, and the others also finish their tasks.

  The Mystery Tungsten Mine's defenses, once as strong as a fortress, had weakened as the ore depleted. The Rhine Consortium had withdrawn their personnel, leaving only Archie and a couple dozen guards, making it relatively easy to take over.

  “Huh.”

  Aaron exhales a breath of white mist.

  He had waited a long time for this day.

  Last year, during Bestowal Day, when he saw the mine guards drinking themselves into a stupor, Aaron conceived this plan.

  He spent a year crafting the poison, devising the strategy, and selecting the right people to collaborate with. Everything was orchestrated for this moment.

  What Aaron didn't know was that without this plan, his fate would have been involved in a mass slaughter once the Mystery Tungsten Ore was completely mined out.

  Fate, it seems, had its own designs.

  Aaron extends his hand, letting a snowflake land in his palm before it melts away.

  "Gather the supplies and prepare to leave."

  The burly Lazio, picking up a gun from a guard's body, runs over and asks, "Aaron, shouldn't we rest for the night? Moving in this snowstorm isn't a wise choice."

  Aaron shakes his head. "We don't know how long this blizzard will last. We need to leave before the snow blocks the roads."

  "Alright," Lazio replies.

  As a former slave, he possesses a unique spirit characterized by loyalty and submission to those stronger than him.

  "Grab more blazing stones."

  "Got it."

  About an hour later, a group of nine have scoured the mine for essential supplies, loaded them into three vehicles, and set off into the snow, leaving the Mystery Tungsten Mine behind.

  The remaining mine slaves will discover an unexpected surprise when they emerge the next day—if they can emerge at all.

  Shortly after the vehicles depart, muffled explosions echo through the mine, followed by clouds of dust rising into the sky.

  The blast triggers a collapse, burying all secrets within.

  As the sun sets and night descends, the snow intensifies. Snowflakes the size of a baby's fist race through the air like out-of-control cars. The wild, thorn-covered landscape is blanketed by a thick layer of snow.

  In the distance, the dim, snow-lit sky, the sparkling ground, and the knife-like cold wind create a unique winter wilderness.

  "Let's rest here," Aaron suggests from the passenger seat, glancing at the dense forest ahead.

  The trees offer some shelter from the storm.

  They've been on the road for seven or eight hours since leaving the Mystery Tungsten Mine. Although they can take turns driving, sitting for long periods is taxing.

  With the snow worsening and the wipers unable to clear the windshield fast enough, stopping to rest is the best option.