The child stood frozen, dwarfed by the wyvern. Its leathery wings, vast enough to eclipse the sun, cast a chilling shadow that consumed the blood-stained snow.
Panic constricted his chest, each ragged breath a plume in the frigid air. Twisted, silent forms of villagers lay scattered, the pristine white snow now a gruesome crimson canvas. The air hung thick with the coppery tang of blood.
He was trembling. Was this where he would die?
Alone?
Triwheel Village was the farthest from the duke's domain castle. Even if help came, would it reach him before the beast tore him apart?
"Mother… I'm scared…"
His voice cracked, swallowed by the howling blizzard. The sky above, darker than before, churned with storm clouds, and before him loomed the Wyvern's glowing eyes and gaping jaws.
The beast roared, a thunderous sound that shook his bones. His legs refused to move, stiff with terror, as if the cold itself had rooted him into the earth. The frigid air gnawed at his skin, and the numbness in his feet told him there was no escape. Hope felt like a distant dream.
He squeezed his eyes shut, surrendering. If the Wyvern's fangs were to rip him apart, at least he would not see it happen. He prayed for death to come swiftly, without pain.
Next, the Wyvern's roar morphed into a painful, unnatural, and guttural cry. The boy abruptly opened his eyes.
Silence followed.
Through the curtain of snow, he saw him—
A man stood tall before the beast, a crimson scarf whipping wildly in the storm winds. His sword gleamed like captured sunlight, his brown hair tousled by the gale. His presence cut through the despair like fire through frost.
The man turned slightly, hazel eyes warm even amidst the chaos.
He smiled at the boy. "Are you alright, kid?"
The boy's breath caught. He had never expected someone to come for him.
The wyverns wheeled, black shapes against the swirling white, their descent a rush of wind that stung cheeks and whipped snow into stinging needles. The man's knuckles whitened as he gripped the cold steel, each breath a visible puff.
He stepped forward, a solid silhouette against the blinding storm, the boy feeling the warmth of his back, a comforting presence against the approaching shadow.
Despite this, the man felt a growing sense of anxiety. He understood the challenge ahead would be difficult. However, the boy's death would be inevitable if he faltered at this moment.
He exhaled, calm but resolute. "Don't be afraid. I'll defeat them all… and I'll save you."
His smile was confident as the Wyverns' roars echoed once more, now met by the unwavering determination of a lone figure.
He then reflected on the origins of this confrontation, which had begun a few hours prior, specifically, three hours before this moment.
---
a few hours before everything...
'So that's how it was…'
I sat quietly, listening to Leyla explain. Apparently, the "business" Xerta had mentioned to me earlier had been true. Nicholas also mentioned that one of the protective orbs, designed to protect and detect monster waves, broke. That was why Epsilon had gone with him.
And yet, he hadn't bothered telling me. Not a word. He just left. I clenched my jaw. I think he's angry with me, though I'm not sure what set him off; I had no idea, but he should have said something.
'I didn't expect him to help Xerta of his own will either.'
Nicholas stood too close to my side, so close our arms brushed. He kept throwing me questions, trying to make conversation. Meanwhile, across from us, Sera chatted cheerfully with Leyla. The bond between sisters-in-law looked… oddly perfect.
From afar, I noticed the coachman approaching—still with his face covered—alongside one of the duke's guards.
"Rubert," Nicholas greeted.
'So his name is Rubert.'
"My lords, because of last night's blizzard, the carriage is buried, and the horses have scattered."
"Don't worry about it. The sky is clear now. The horse will return on its own." Nicholas waved it off.
'Do horses really come back on their own?'
"When His Highness is ready to leave, we will provide new ones," the guard, Seth, replied smoothly.
"Have our guests eaten?" Sera asked kindly. "It would be troublesome if you fell ill from hunger."
"I had some tea and snacks this morning."
Sera visibly relaxed at my answer, though I suspected it was polite small talk more than genuine concern.
Still, I couldn't stop studying her. If Sera here wasn't the original—she was a transmigrator. Then where was the real Sera? Maybe Noona knows about it.
Her gestures were flawless. She wore a calculated smile, and her dimples appeared at just the right time, just like her brother's.
'Noona, your acting is too good.'
Nicholas nudged me. "Keith, how about we play in the snow?"
'Are you a child?'
He winked. 'We also had another actor here, huh?'
I shook my head quickly. Keith wasn't the type for that sort of thing.
Then—a sharp sting on my cheek. A snowball exploded against me. I turned, startled. Sera was laughing.
"Keith, you're too serious. Come on, play!"
'Noona, didn't we agree to minimal interaction? And now you're starting a snowball fight?'
We had planned this carefully: Keith would remain courteous but distant, Sera would act like the innocent little sister. It was Keith's supportive role in the original story that had fueled the fan theory that Sera harbored feelings for him.
But now… here we were.
I sighed. then lobbed a snowball. Leyla was next, followed by her maid, Yeri. Before I knew it, we were all laughing and throwing snowballs, acting like kids.
"Wait, where's Nick? Didn't he suggest this?" I glanced around.
Nicholas was off to the side by a rock pile, scowling. I walked over, already making another snowball.
"What's wrong? Weren't you the one who wanted to play?"
"…"
He ignored me completely.
I exhaled sharply and turned away. His voice followed, bitter."This isn't fair, Keith. When I asked, you refused. But when she asked, you agreed."
I glanced back. His face was twisted in frustration, eyes locked on Sera laughing with Leyla.
"Are you sulking?" I asked.
"That lady is two-faced. Don't get too close to her!"
I blinked. Nicholas had never spoken so openly about someone before. Hypocritical, since he wore masks himself. But his hostility toward Sera felt… raw.
'He acts like a child upset when his parents give attention to someone else.'
I threw my snowball square at his face.
Gasps came from Rubert and Seth. Of course—they hadn't expected me to hit a prince.
"Stop sulking. Get up, Nick."
He didn't move. Snow covered his face, and for a moment I worried I'd gone too far.
Rubert scolded sharply, "How dare you—!"
But Nicholas raised his hand, silencing him instantly.
"…Keith, you really are…" He wiped the snow from his face, then suddenly hurled one back at me.
He burst out laughing. "Hahaha!"
I grinned, chasing him across the snow, pelting him back. Soon even Rubert and Seth joined in. The four of us tumbled into a reckless snowball fight.
"I'm glad Keith is making friends," Leyla said warmly.
"I agree," Sera added with a smile.
"He's never had any, aside from me," Leyla admitted, then corrected, "I mean, before he served the duchess. Back when he lived in Nerwine."
"No need to explain, my lady. We understand," Yeri reassured her.
"Speaking of which, how about we ladies head inside for tea and snacks?" Leyla suggested.
"Yes, let's go!" Sera beamed, linking arms with her.
---