People who had cast sympathetic glances and thrown food or small change to the poor now stayed inside their homes, firmly locking their doors to avoid the calamity. They tried to overcome the cold alone or in groups, but ultimately failed and became frozen corpses.

Children. Old women. Young men. Women. Death’s outstretched hand followed no order of gender or age. There were young siblings tightly embracing each other. Without having committed any sin, simply born in these chaotic times, they prayed with fragile voices, “Goddess, please help us,” before finally growing cold.

“Ah, Amir.”

Snow sighed alone.

“If I wish to love the world, didn’t you say that would be your will? Mother, I don’t want to make the world such a cold and painful place. This isn’t my intention. So please stop it. Though I no longer know whether I’m a saint or a witch, Mother. If you hear my voice, please.”

Snow closed her eyes with a pained expression.

“Please stop everything. Even if my life is included in that, it’s fine.”

But nothing changed. The overwhelming blizzard continued to pour down, and even at this moment, countless people were freezing to death and starving to death. All because of Snow’s, or Freia’s, curse.

She suddenly raised her hand and clenched it. In her empty hand, a sharp, pointed ice crystal had appeared. Snow’s hand, gripping the sharp ice crystal with her bare hand, was soon cut. She held it tightly, forgetting the pain, and brought it toward her chest.

‘Would everything be resolved if I died?’

She bit her lip hard. She placed the ice crystal against her chest. Slowly, she applied pressure. The sharp ice blade penetrated her skin. A red, round bloodstain bloomed like a flower on her white priestly robe. It didn’t hurt. Compared to the pain that countless people had experienced, were experiencing, or would experience dying from the cold, it was truly nothing. But soon she heard Freia’s maddening voice:

“Even if you die, nothing will be resolved. The calamity will continue, and you will be born again somewhere as a saint, and then everything will just repeat itself. How interesting. The Empire of Akelan is under an eternal curse.”

Snow saw a vision of Freia flying in like a ghost, whispering in her ear. Yes. Even if she died, nothing would change. The past One Year Calamity had begun with her death. Freia’s exploded emotions hadn’t subsided just because her breath had stopped.

Now she existed somewhat as “Snow,” but she didn’t know when “Freia” would take control again. No, from the beginning, the two beings were the same. Snow desperately wanted to stop the calamity, but at the same time, she couldn’t stop it.

Snow groaned at the hollow feeling that tore at her heart whenever she thought of Ian Nigritia, who had died so miserably, and the moment she thought of the current Emperor Ikanel Riman Akelan, she immediately fell to her knees and clutched her head.

Death was not a fundamental solution to the calamity. Nor was it the noble sacrifice of a “saint.” It was merely a temporary escape from suffering.

Snow soon released her grip on the ice crystal. The crystal fell to the ground. The transparent piece of ice made no sound as it fell, plunging into the soft snow.

Snow fell into the abyss of despair. There was truly nothing she could do. Nothing, nothing at all. Then she heard Freia’s voice again:

“There is something you can do.”

“What can I do?”

“Think carefully about why you, and I, cannot stop the calamity.”

Freia questioned in response to Snow’s self-directed question. The reason she couldn’t stop the calamity despite wanting to so badly was that her emotions wouldn’t subside. Emotions were like incoming waves; she had caused them, but after they had grown uncontrollably large, it wasn’t easy to gather them back in.

“No, something more fundamental. The reason you feel such intense emotions.”

The reason for feeling emotions. Snow thought about it. Of course, it was because her beloved Ikanel had betrayed Freia. Ah, she realized what her Freia-self was trying to say. All causes were intricately entangled with Ikanel. If so, the solution must also involve him.

Snow was no longer a being that could be called human. She could move through space instantly, walk lightly on snow where she should have sunk deeply, produce snow flowers, and create sharp ice crystal swords. Too overshadowed by great sorrow to realize it, she was handling powers that were not human as if they were her own.

Confronting Emperor Ikanel wasn’t a problem. She could appear before Ikanel right now if she wanted.

Only, Snow couldn’t guarantee what she might do to Ikanel if she saw him. Because Snow was Freia. Because she was Freia who resented, cursed, loved and hated, and feared Ikanel.

Snow looked down at the world once more. Countless people were suffering. Each one of them was a being that shouldn’t be treated this way. Ceres Martadia used to say that each person has their own world, and worlds exist as many as there are people. If so, how many worlds had she terribly damaged?

So Snow, though knowing she shouldn’t, weighed Ikanel’s life against the lives of countless others. If Snow went to Ikanel, “Freia” would surely try to kill him. But if that could somewhat reduce her emotions. If the calamity could subside.

“Kill them first, Ikanel’s children. Just as he killed your brother.”

Freia’s voice was heard. But because Snow couldn’t bring herself to do that:

“Please, I’ll go to Ikanel instead. Not Elios. Not the other princes and princess who have nothing to do with this. Not Elios, absolutely not. I am me, and you are you. Past life is just a past life. Please let me go. Just as you loved Ikanel, I love Elios.”

‘What am I saying right now?’

Snow suddenly stopped speaking and thought. Elios,

‘I love Elios? No, no. I don’t deserve that. I hurt him.’

She shook her head vigorously. Snow, with a tired face, waved her hand in the air.

A fierce whirlwind arose. A whirlwind that would guide her to Ikanel.

♣ ♣ ♣

Ikanel knew that Elios had been visiting the temple unusually frequently lately. Though he claimed with his own mouth that he did so to receive the blessings of the High Priest and Ceres, Ikanel naturally vaguely suspected that he was meeting the Saint privately.

He had placed surveillance on all three princes, excluding the still young Princess Galimede. Since Crusis and Elios were somewhat mature, it wasn’t feasible to monitor their every move like Papel, but he knew that even before Elios officially began frequenting the temple as if it were his own home, he had been secretly slipping out of the imperial palace and heading to the temple.

Ikanel found this very displeasing. Unnecessary meetings breed unnecessary connections, and unnecessary connections breed unnecessary emotions. That is a calamity. A true calamity that Ikanel had experienced firsthand.

When he was a little older than Elios is now, he had acted just like Elios. He had visited the temple by chance and, quite by chance, met a woman. The more time they spent together, the greater his feelings for her grew. At that time, he thought those feelings would last forever.

But that woman was the legitimate daughter of the House of Nigritia. Any other family would have been acceptable, but not Nigritia. The House of Nigritia was a family that needed to disappear from the empire.

“They are like parasites. They became the imperial in-laws and grew monstrously by sucking the nourishment of the empire.”

“As long as there are families like Nigritia, Akelan can never grow further.”

He had said this directly to Count Mihail Callisto when he was the Crown Prince.

The House of Nigritia wielded power as imperial in-laws. Fortunately, since the previous Duke had only sons, the Empress at that time, Ikanel’s mother, was not from the ducal family. He had heard that the Duke’s daughter was too sickly to become Empress. Neither his father nor he needed to welcome an Empress from the ducal family. It was a time when the power of the House of Nigritia, which had maintained its influence for centuries, was weakening.

It was an opportunity that would never come again. His father, the previous Emperor, and he, the Crown Prince, were secretly gathering forces to eliminate the ducal house.

But the woman he loved so passionately for the first time in his life was that supposedly sickly daughter of Nigritia.

After learning of Freia’s family, Ikanel tried hard to give up his feelings for her. His father, who was the Emperor at that time, eventually discovered that Ikanel was secretly meeting with Freia Nigritia, and also noticed that Ikanel had not yet fully resolved his feelings.

“You must not be swayed by personal emotions,” said the previous Emperor, Ikanel’s father. He told Ikanel to let go of Freia. It was also Ikanel’s father, the late Emperor, who advised him to meet her one last time to make a clean break so that she could let go of him.

So, following his father’s advice, Ikanel invited Freia and poured out harsh words. He wanted her to forget about him. His political goal was to weaken the House of Nigritia. Freia and Ikanel were destined never to be together.

He tried to let her go completely. He wasn’t sure if he could make a clean break, but at least he hoped she could forget him.

But that day, Freia handed Ikanel poisoned tea. When he drank the tea that Freia had carefully offered and collapsed vomiting blood, Ikanel felt a terrible sense of betrayal.

‘How could you, how could you do this to me!’

After recovering from his brush with death, Ikanel abandoned any lingering attachment to Freia who had tried to kill him. No, he thought he had abandoned it. He led troops to raid the ducal mansion.