A raven perched atop a towering Snow Pine, its pitch-black eyes reflecting the petite figure practicing magic not far away. It cocked its head, shook off a few flakes of snow, and silently watched as the snowy field was illuminated by the brilliance of magic.
Roderland Kingdom, Year 2025 of the Royal Calendar, Winter. Northern Yankton, outskirts of Silverpine Forest.
A dazzling violet Magic Missile traced an arc through the air, then suddenly accelerated, diving forward to blow apart a miserable Green Goblin fleeing into the forest, scattering its remains in all directions.
Shards of ice and flesh blossomed upon the snow, like a magnificent flower.
“All right, Your Highness, how about we call it a day?” Lorlan stepped forward, unfolding the snow-white fur cloak in his hands, and gently draped it over the girl’s shoulders. “It’s getting late—if we head back too late, Aelia will scold us again.”
“My mana is still abundant. Is my training really ending here today?”
The girl tilted her face up, her ruby-like eyes shining moistly in the dusk.
“Let’s… leave it at that.” Lorlan’s heart tightened, and he gave a sheepish smile, averting his gaze into the distance. “There’s an old saying in Selis: ‘Haste makes waste,’ you know.”
He turned to leave, but his sleeve was gently tugged.
“Hm?”
“My hands are cold.”
Silverpine Forest is called Silverpine Forest because, when winter arrives, nearly everything here is covered in a blanket of snow.
The snowy light reflected the evening sky, draping the world in a cool, silvery glow.
The girl’s silver hair poured over her shoulders like moonlight, the ends trembling lightly with her movement. Her pale cheeks were tinged with a cold-induced blush; her features were small and delicate, lips a faint cherry blossom pink, and her ruby eyes added a touch of breathtaking beauty.
At this moment, she pressed her lips together, waiting for Lorlan’s reply.
“Don’t just stand there daydreaming,” she said softly. “Hurry up and warm my hands.”
Without waiting for Lorlan’s protest, she stuffed her little hands into his and held on tight. Her hands were slick and icy; Lorlan felt as though he were holding a piece of ice.
“…I’m a little tired today,” the girl lowered her gaze, long lashes casting faint shadows. “Let’s walk a little slower, shall we?”
“Ah… sure.”
The two walked one after another through the snow, the soft accumulation creaking under their steps.
“There are only a few days left until the opening of the Saint Canon at the Saint Capital. You’ll come with me, right?”
“Sorry, Your Highness. I’m afraid I have some matters to attend to before then…”
“Oh.”
The two fell silent once more and continued walking for a while until, in the distance by the roadside, a splendid Carriage gradually took shape, the bronze bells at its side ringing clearly through the wind and snow.
Seeing this, Lorlan instinctively tried to pull his hand back, but the girl’s slender fingers clamped down, unyielding.
“Your Highness?”
“In this household, I am the head.” The girl’s voice rang coolly from behind. “So unless I give permission, you can’t do anything I haven’t allowed.”
Lorlan pursed his lips, swallowed his retort, and caught a glimpse of their shadows cast upon the snow.
They reached the Carriage, where waiting Maids opened the door, lowered the steps, and bowed aside.
The girl nodded slightly and, still holding Lorlan’s hand, entered the Carriage. The interior was not large; seats of gold-velvet were soft to the touch, and the brazier’s coals crackled, shutting out the cold.
Her hands had already warmed up in his palm, but she showed no sign of letting go.
“Let’s go home.”
“As you command, Lady Clover.”
The Maids bustled about, then all boarded the much plainer Carriage at the rear, quietly following along behind.
Freed at last, Lorlan sat opposite the girl, lifting the curtain of the Carriage window a little. The distant sunset was like blood, dyeing all of Silverpine Forest a burning gold and red.
Winter passed, spring arrived, and then winter came again. Counting on his fingers, Lorlan realized this was already his seventh year here.
Even now, memories from the previous Route remained vivid.
[Roderland Kingdom, Year 2077 of the Royal Calendar. The Demon King Clover has fallen, and the world returns to peace.]
Blood seeped through the cracks of shattered armor, crawling along charred lines before dripping onto fractured stone steps.
Lorlan stood in the center of the ruins, a blinding wound piercing his chest, while hymns echoed from afar—so pure they bordered on harsh.
The sky was clear, feathers of light drifting like snow.
For Lorlan, transmigrating into a supporting character in a tragic fantasy RPG world wasn’t unacceptable. He just hadn’t expected that, upon arriving, his role would be as expendable Guidance for the Saintess Main Character Team.
To put it bluntly, he was the tool-man.
Honestly, if you couldn’t laugh at that, you might as well be clinically depressed.
When Lorlan stood before the Saintess Main Character Team’s Demon King Subjugation Army, was battered to his knees by the successive attacks of the heroines as per the scenario, and heard the notification that the “Witness All Heroines’ Growth Trajectory” mission was complete—he thought he’d finally be free. But it turned out he’d underestimated things.
To get out, he had to achieve a Perfect Ending… At best, Lorlan had only completed the Saintess route’s Normal Route last time. In other words, he had just one chance left. If he failed this Route, he was done for!
—All right, fine, if that’s how it’s going to be!
Annoyed, Lorlan habitually skipped all those prompts, Guidance, and the buttons at the lower right corner: [I Understand], [I Confirm], [I Agree]…
Until he saw a line of gleaming golden text.
[Even though the Guidance is broken, please become the last…]
“Skip.”
The boy intoned blankly.
No way anyone would watch the cutscenes again on a Second Playthrough, right? No way, no way…
Lorlan was sent back to seven years before the main storyline began—seven years before the Saintess completed the Trial of Destiny.
The previous Route’s goal had been to help the Saintess Main Character Team grow stronger and defeat the Demon King. This time, his objective was to nurture the Demon King and have her subdue the Saintess Main Character Team. The only thing that hadn’t changed was that he remained their adversary.
When consciousness returned, Lorlan was no longer amidst the ruins of the sanctuary. He lifted his eyes; the distant dawn glimmered faintly, and horses whinnied softly nearby.
I’m alive. Hehe.
Guided by memory, Lorlan traveled to Northern Yankton and found Archduke Rufinias, joining his household as a Magic Consultant and helping young Clover slip away. As war flared at the borders, the Archduke fell in battle just as the story dictated, and the Rufinias Family’s standing plummeted overnight, leaving only this fief and castle at the northern edge of the kingdom to young Clover.
Lorlan’s thoughts returned to the present. Snow continued to drift from the gray sky in Silverpine Forest, one flake after another.
The Carriage wheels crunched over the icy road with a monotonous creak. Lorlan let down the curtain, his gaze falling on the girl across from him. She had her eyes closed in repose, silver hair swaying gently with the carriage’s motion, bathed in the soft halo of the warm lamp. That face overlapped, little by little, with the memory of the one nailed to the ruined throne by the Divine Sword—and then separated again.
“By the way, why do I feel like you’ve been slacking off more and more lately?”
Clover suddenly opened her eyes, the jewel-like irises exceptionally clear in the dim light, fixing directly on Lorlan.
“Fewer spells during training, longer sessions…” Clover counted off on her fingers as she spoke.
“How could that be…” Lorlan looked out the window, guilty, watching the scenery flash by. “It’s just that Your Highness is so gifted and learns quickly, that’s all.”
His laughter sounded awkward within the carriage. Clover didn’t reply, only closed her eyes again and faintly curled her lips.
The Rufinias Family’s castle wasn’t far from the forest. Before the sun fully set, the Carriage stopped smoothly before the main gate.
That night, the butler-maid-chef-magic consultant—elder twin sister Aelia—prepared a lavish dinner.
Candles flickered over the long table; silver cutlery glimmered warmly in the light. But Clover seemed to have little appetite, cutting her steak into tiny bites before finally setting down her knife and fork.
“I’m full.”
She drank a bowl of Pumpkin Cream Mushroom Soup and rose to leave. After Clover left, a subtle tension crept into the dining hall.
Sensing Aelia and the others’ gazes turning toward him, Lorlan hurriedly finished his meal and darted back to his room.
His room wasn’t fancy, but a large bookshelf stood out. It was stuffed with all kinds of books, the majority being Ancient and Modern Magic Tomes.
After returning, Lorlan carefully locked the door. Worried that wasn’t enough, he added a small Enchantment Barrier for good measure.
Only after all that did he properly sit at his desk and spread his palm.
As strands of mana gathered, a small, delicate cube about half the size of a palm appeared in Lorlan’s hand. Every surface was engraved with intricate markings. Under his control, it began to transform and rearrange itself, clicking softly, until finally it turned into a thick, exquisitely decorated tome, opened before him.
Lorlan took a deep breath and bent over to study it closely, muttering under his breath.
“I’m done for, I’m done for, I’m done for… how is she learning so fast…”
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