Zeke felt momentarily startled by the Progenitor’s words. What kind of relationship did he have with Snow?

    The question was surprisingly hard to answer. During their travels, he had felt responsible for her, and the lively little girl had often reminded him of his own sister, slowly creeping into his heart. However, now that Snow had suddenly grown up, the situation had become somewhat ambivalent.

    For that reason, he found that he couldn’t answer easily.

    Winter, apparently mistaking his silence, grew more serious. “By now, you should have noticed that Snow is... a special existence, yes?”

    Zeke snapped out of his thoughts, focusing on the man before him. Special? What did he mean? Zeke had known that Winter favored Snow more than his other children, but he’d always assumed it was simply a father’s preference. Now, though, it sounded like there was something more to it.

    “In what way?” Zeke asked, intrigued.

    “She is a Pureblood,” Winter replied, his voice flat.

    Zeke tilted his head. Of course, she was a Pureblood. She was the daughter of a Progenitor, just like Frost, Polaris, and the children of Shassra.

    Noting Zeke''s confusion, Winter explained. “Humans misunderstand our race. They often call all children of Progenitors Purebloods, but that’s incorrect.”

    Zeke leaned in, listening intently. He, too, had believed that to be true, but now it seemed there was more to it.

    Winter remained silent for a moment, his gaze staring at the empty air. “...Over my long lifespan, I’ve had many children. However, to this day, only one of them could be called a true Pureblood.”

    “And that is Snow?” Zeke asked.

    Winter nodded. “Yes, in some sense, it wouldn’t be false to say that she is the only ‘real’ daughter I’ve had.”

    Zeke frowned at these words. Was Winter such a man? Somebody who would cast away his children just because of deficiencies in their bloodline? It seemed he needed to reevaluate the person in front of him. Such a choice seemed heartless.

    As if reading his thoughts, Winter gave a small, bitter smile. “Do you think me cruel?”

    Zeke didn’t say anything. However, he also didn’t deny Winter’s words, showing his tacit agreement.

    Winter nodded, as if understanding something. “From your limited point of view, it must seem that way.”

    Zeke furrowed his brows. Limited point of view? He had never thought of himself as ignorant and his insight on most topics was well beyond average. Therefore, despite knowing that this might offend the other party Zeke voiced his thoughts. “I think most people would see it that way.”

    Winter glanced at him, and though his gaze was devoid of emotion, Zeke felt the pressure on him intensify. But it lasted only a moment before Winter reined in his aura.

    “Most people, hmm?” Winter echoed. “Do you often weigh your beliefs against the opinions of the masses? Do you think their collective ignorance grants them greater insight?”

    A bead of sweat formed on Zeke’s brow. It seemed he had crossed a line with his last remark. But that wasn’t the only issue—his comment had been both rude and somewhat flawed in logic. Therefore, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t refute the Progenitor’s words. After all, he knew that not all widely held beliefs were grounded in truth. Hadn’t he, as a Blood Mage, been ostracized by the public as a blood-crazed fiend as well?

    “What does that mean exactly?” Zeke asked. He could likely already guess. Yet, he still wanted to hear it directly from the Progenitor.

    “Her blood is identical to mine,” Winter confirmed. “That means that she will never age beyond her prime and never die from natural causes—a true Pureblood.”

    Zeke’s eyes widened. Snow was... that special? Had he been with a future Progenitor all this time? If Winter’s words were true, Snow’s value was far beyond anything he could have imagined. Those slave traders in Korrovan would hunt him to the ends of the earth if they ever found out. This revelation also explained why Winter had searched for her so desperately, even falling into an ambush. She was a companion for eternity, a daughter he could truly cherish.

    Reflecting on the earlier fight, Zeke also realized how Snow had been able to progress so quickly. With no ceiling to her potential, and with access to the tribe’s resources and his own Blood Boil technique, her power would only continue to rise rapidly. In a few years, she would likely surpass him, no matter how fast he advanced.

    She was truly special.

    Seeing his shocked expression, Winter nodded in understanding. “I see that you understand.”

    “That is... a lot to take in,” Zeke answered, his mind still trying to come to terms with this revelation.

    “It is indeed,” Winter said as he turned away and approached the desk. He leaned against it and waited for Zeke to compose himself.

    Zeke appreciated the brief respite as he gathered his thoughts. Now, with a clearer understanding of Snow''s situation, he had to reassess her place in his life. Winter would likely keep her close until she was strong enough to protect herself, which meant Zeke might not see her again—unless he stayed with the tribe.

    But staying wasn’t an option. He had only come here to complete his mana-purifying device, and with that goal achieved, he was ready to leave. He missed his family dearly, and his ambitions lay not on this desolate continent but back in his homeland.

    It was inevitable—he would have to say goodbye to Snow very soon.

    Zeke sighed and turned to face the Progenitor, who waited silently. “Thank you for your patience,” he said.

    Winter nodded as if it were a trivial matter.

    “So... may I ask why you called for me? I assume it wasn’t just to clarify my misunderstanding about Purebloods.”

    “You’re correct,” Winter replied, his expression turning serious. “The reason I called you is both related to and separate from that topic.” His gaze grew solemn. “The truth is, I owe you. Both for aiding in my recovery and for protecting my tribe, you’ve been a tremendous help. It’s not a debt easily repaid...”

    Zeke stayed silent, though inwardly he felt Winter’s gratitude was unnecessary. After all, he had never taken a loss from their dealings and had always ensured he could escape if needed. He didn’t feel he truly deserved such deep appreciation.

    Winter, however, appeared to see things differently. His tone grew even more solemn. “In light of that debt, I am prepared to offer you something I would grant no other...” A pained expression crossed his face, as though Winter was forcing the words out.

    Zeke, despite feeling unworthy of such a reward, couldn’t help but get excited at this point. What would the Progenitor give him? Was there a treasure that even he couldn’t bear to part with?

    Winter’s eyes grew as serious as death as he spoke his final words. “I will allow you to marry my daughter.”

    Absolute silence greeted that declaration.