Ophelia experienced three misfortunes in her life.

Firstly, her homeland had seemingly endless deposits of precious glacial stone.

Secondly, mining this stone would anger a supreme ice spirit, plunging the land into an ice age.

Thirdly, she was born with an exceptional level of spirit affinity, a quality that perhaps emerges once in a century, making her the only person capable of preventing the northern continent from freezing over.

***

Glacia was a small kingdom situated on the outskirts of the northern continent.

With half of its territory covered in snow, the kingdom was not particularly strong in terms of agriculture, commerce, or military power.

Its only valuable export was glacial stone. However, this could not be mined, as it was guarded by a powerful glacial spirit of the calamity class, which could engulf the northern continent in bitter cold.

The perpetual poverty of the kingdom infuriated its king, who craved wealth and power.

Then, one day—

“Waaah! Waaah……!”

A princess was born in a wing of the royal castle where draughty windows had been carefully sealed with fur.

Born with snow-white hair, she had such an extraordinary connection with spirits that it would not have been an exaggeration to call her a reincarnated spirit.

Wherever she went, she was destined to be loved by spirits.

If only her father had not been a cruel, greedy king who was utterly indifferent to the life of his own daughter.

“Guards! Engrave the ancient spell upon this child’s body immediately!”

The king recognized his daughter’s extraordinary nature at once. His eyes gleamed wildly as he shouted.

The child had been born with an immense blessing from the spirits — a phenomenon that perhaps occurred once every thousand years.

Usually, stopping a glacial spirit capable of causing a continental catastrophe would require the spirit affinity of millions of sacrifices. However, if a single child possessed an affinity surpassing all of theirs combined, the circumstances changed completely.

All the king needed to do was transfer the full force of the rampage into the child.

It was painfully obvious how Ophelia, who would bring the king unimaginable wealth, would be treated.

“You cannot! How could you do such a thing to a princess this small……?”

Horrified by the cruel command, the midwife shielded the newborn princess with her body. Tragically, those who defied the king never lived long.

“How dare you defy my command?!”

Neither the midwife who stood against him, the unconscious mother, nor anyone else in the birthing chamber escaped the enraged king’s blade.

Crimson blood drenched the room, and the infant, covered in her mother’s blood, was forced to bear an ancient spell engraved upon her tiny body.

“Summon the ministers immediately.”

Having finished what he had come to do, the king emerged from the birthing chamber on light feet, his face radiant with a broad smile.

Soon afterwards, a council meeting was convened to discuss the mining and export of glacial stone.

It was only later that the princess, imprisoned in the spire from birth, began to be known by the name of a heroine from an ancient tragedy.

***

Ophelia, Princess of Glacia.

Imprisoned in the spire from birth, her entire world was confined to a small attic room at the top of the tower.

It could be crossed in just a few steps. The window frequently failed in its sole purpose of keeping out the winter wind.

The iron bars were packed so closely together that not even a finger could fit between them, meaning she could not lean her head outside.

“…….”

She was a twenty-three-year-old woman with waist-length, pure white hair.

Dressed in a frayed white gown, she idly touched the iron window frame while gazing through the tightly packed bars.

Through the narrow gaps, she could see a world blanketed entirely in white snow.

The same scenery as always: Tiny people moved far below.

Morning had arrived again, as it always did, so Ophelia perched on the cold windowsill and leaned against the bars.

If she listened carefully, she could hear the sounds carried to her by the spirits.

Ophelia quietly closed her eyes.

“Ugh, I’m going to freeze to death at this rate. This winter seems especially cold.”

“Come and see! We have the finest fruit! Looking at these bright red apples costs nothing!”

“My darling, hold tightly to Mother’s hand while you walk. Understood?”

The villagers chatted endlessly as they went about their daily lives.

Since she had nothing else to do, Ophelia often committed their conversations to memory.

One day someone would be boiling with rage, and the next they would laugh as though nothing had happened. A man who had wept at a goodbye would soon start flirting with women again.

Every day, people’s lives changed, for better or worse.

Everyone changed constantly.

Only Ophelia remained by the same window, accumulating one unchanging day after another.

“Mine more glacial stone! If there aren’t enough workers, drag children in and make them mine it!”

No. Perhaps at least one person had never changed.

“……Father is causing another scene.”

Ophelia muttered with a weary expression.

As usual, it seemed her greedy father was abusing his ministers again.

“Dig out more! Work day and night without rest! More! More! More! Bring me more glacial stone!”

Over the past twenty-three years, he had amassed enormous wealth for the nation by mining glacial stone and sacrificing Ophelia.

Decades of war had turned Glacia, once a weak kingdom, into an empire.

The imperial palace was filled with jewels and gold, and the king had become an emperor. Yet he remained unsatisfied.

More, more, more.

He still wanted more.

“Your Majesty, we have truly reached our limit! You know that if mining continues, the consequences will become irreversible!”

“How dare you…… question my command? Guards! What are you doing? Drag this man away immediately!”

‘Oh dear. That man will soon be dead.’

Ophelia calmly offered her condolences to the unfortunate loyal subject who would likely perish before long.

She could not understand what her father believed he lacked that drove him to behave so wildly.

Yet even if she understood his greed, nothing about the cramped chamber atop the spire would change. Ophelia quickly lost interest.

“Cough……!”

A throbbing pain seized her chest. Ophelia raised a hand to her mouth.

Bright, crimson blood drenched her palm and splattered across the hem of her white dress.

Just as the minister had said, she had truly reached her limit. Several years ago, her heart had finally begun to freeze because it could no longer withstand the burden of the rampaging ice spirit within her.

The cold that had accumulated over twenty-three years surged within her violently, as though erupting into a rampage of its own.

Frosty air scattered with every breath she exhaled, and pure white frost had already settled around her.

What did it matter that she possessed a talent seen only once in a century? She was still being consumed by enough cold to plunge an entire continent into an ice age.

She no longer had the strength to endure it.

‘……What a stubbornly persistent life this has been.’

Ophelia sensed that her end was approaching. Of one thing she was certain: her body would not last much longer.

‘A year? I hope it will be less than that.’

Despite having coughed up the blood that was now splattered across the floor, Ophelia sank calmly into thought.

Blood and phlegm bubbled in her throat, and a cold sensation spread through her veins. Rather than fearing it, however, she welcomed the sensation.

The corners of her expressionless lips rose slightly.

‘It has gone on for far too long.’

She wanted this wretched cycle to end as quickly as possible.

Ophelia silently pleaded with the enraged ice spirit.

Please, take the last of my warmth soon.

“Ugh…… Hng……”

She could not breathe.