Dusk fell as the last remnants of the sunset were swallowed by the Black Forest.
A strange-looking group traveled along the small path leading to the village.
Uncle Barton walked at the front, an icicle resting on his shoulder.
Upon closer inspection, a thick arm was frozen inside the icicle.
Uncle Barton hummed an unknown tune, his footsteps light. He was clearly very satisfied with this “trophy” that would soon become the new cooling core for his blacksmith shop.
In the middle of the group was a cart.
Elent’s original wounds had already scabbed over, and he was pulling the cart forward at a steady pace.
The cart bed was piled high with crushed ice that emitted a chilling mist.
At the very top of the pile of ice, Celia huddled in a blanket, swaying slightly with the bumps of the wheels. She seemed to have already fallen asleep.
At the end of the line, Iris was in the grass by the roadside, picking up the bits of crushed ice that had fallen from the cart.
Every time she picked up a piece, she could feel the residual Abyss Sparks inside, and she stuffed them into her pocket like a squirrel hiding rocknuts.
The group passed through the stone-paved road of the village.
Yuna, who was sweeping the dust from the steps at her door, saw the “cargo” of demon limbs. There was no trace of fear on her face.
She simply waved and greeted them with a smile, as if they were just wild boars brought back from the mountains.
A few villagers passed by with their hoes, glancing at the icy arm on Barton’s shoulder.
They discussed whether this thing could make the recently harvested wheat a bit crispier.
To the residents of this village, since it was something brought back by the Priestess and the hunter, it was merely prey—nothing more.
The cart stopped in front of the Church doors.
As they pushed the doors open, a gust of sweltering air hit them. The Alchemical Freezer, which had been shut down all day due to a power outage, was currently emitting residual heat, making the whole hall feel like an unventilated steamer.
Elent lowered the shafts of the cart, turned around, and gently carried the still-groggy Celia down, placing her in a chair by the entrance.
“Move that big guy in,” Celia woke up, pointing toward the main body covered by a canvas on the cart with her eyes half-squinted.
“Yes!”
Elent walked to the cart and pulled back the canvas.
A massive ice sculpture standing 3 meters tall was exposed to the air.
The Flame Demon General Ragner maintained his ferocious roaring posture from before his death, even the frozen terror in his eye sockets clearly visible.
The youth wrapped his arms around the base of the ice sculpture, his muscles bulging.
“Heave!”
The ice sculpture, weighing hundreds of pounds, was lifted by sheer force.
Elent carried this gargantuan object toward the center of the hall, and the Flame Demon ice sculpture was subsequently placed in the sacred preaching position.
Ragner’s bared-teeth face was aimed directly at the Church doors, as if welcoming every visitor with the most sinister expression.
The effect was immediate. Centered around the ice sculpture, a wave of cold air rapidly diffused in all directions.
The stagnant heat in the air was instantly dispelled. On the stained-glass windows on both sides of the hall, water vapor condensed at an extremely fast speed, gathering into droplets that slid down.
In just a dozen or so seconds, the temperature inside the Church dropped from the sweltering heat of summer to late autumn.
“Whew…”
Celia let out a long breath, unwrapped the blanket from her body, and slumped into the reclining chair.
‘This is finally a life worth living.’
“Elent,” Celia tapped the armrest, “I’m thirsty.”
“And Iris, don’t just stand there dazed. Wipe the table clean.”
“Yes!”
The two of them responded at the same time.
Elent walked toward the ice sculpture, looked over the body of the Flame Demon General, and finally locked onto the shoulder area. The ice there was the thickest and had the fewest impurities. He would use that.
The hilt of a broken sword served as an ice pick. Several ice crystals were knocked off and fell into a glass.
Elent entered the kitchen and soon came out carrying two glasses of dark brown liquid.
The walls of the glasses were covered in condensed water droplets.
The black liquid inside wrapped around the blue crushed ice, and bubbles burst in the gaps between the ice cubes.
To cater to the Priestess’s tastes, he had specifically added double the sugar this time.
Celia took the glass and tilted her head back to take a large gulp.
The ice-cold liquid slid down her throat, mixing with the high-tier ice elemental mana contained within the ice cubes, and exploded in her stomach.
The heat and internal fire caused by mana exhaustion were instantly extinguished in the face of this icy coolness.
Her groggy brain became clear once more, and every pore seemed to relax in the chill.
“I’ve come back to life!”
Celia placed the half-empty glass on the table and let out a satisfied sigh.
Elent carried the other drink and walked over to Iris, who was pretending to wipe the candlesticks.
“Miss Iris, here.”
Iris looked at the glass held out in front of her.
Within the dark brown liquid, several pieces of blue ice were faintly emitting a cold mist. As a former Demon Lord Candidate, she could perceive the resentment and mana of Ragner lingering within the ice.
These were pieces of the corpse of the Flame Demon General who had just been hunting her down.
‘Was I supposed to soak this kind of thing in water and drink it?’
Iris’s stomach lurched.
“What’s wrong?”
Celia’s slightly lazy voice came from the reclining chair.
“Do you dislike my special drink?”
Celia tilted her head, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly as her gaze fell upon Iris.
“Or are you saying you look down on my handiwork?”
“No, I wouldn’t dare!” Iris trembled all over.
If she refused, would her fate be to become a second ice sculpture?
Iris looked at Celia’s cold eyes, then at Elent’s simple, honest smiling face.
Since she was doomed either way, Iris steeled her heart. She simply closed her eyes, grabbed the glass, and tilted her head back to take a gulp with an air of “do or die.”
Gulp.
The expected smell of a decaying corpse or blood did not come.
The moment it entered her mouth, a stimulating sweetness with a refreshing hint of mint hit her taste buds, followed by countless bubbles dancing on the tip of her tongue.
And when that ice-cold liquid slid into her abdomen, her mana source—which had been drained dry due to excessive shock and flight—actually felt like a long drought meeting sweet rain. It received the nourishment of a burst of pure mana.
That was high-tier elemental power that had been purified and then reversed.
Iris opened her eyes and looked at the glass in her hand in disbelief.
‘It tastes so good.’
‘Moreover, the energy contained inside is so strong.’
‘Is this the Witch’s reward? To treat a servant with the essence of an Abyss Lord?’
“Thank… Thank you, Lady Celia!” Iris said, holding the glass with teary eyes.
Celia looked at Iris and suddenly felt a massive headache coming on.
‘Why did she start crying after just one sip of Happy Water?’
Although Celia knew that Happy Water was like a divine drink to the natives of this other world, Iris’s reaction was a bit too exaggerated.
Perhaps the things that happened today had just scared her too much.
“Iris, stop crying. No one can touch you here.”
The night grew deeper. Inside the Church hall, the ice sculpture of the Flame Demon General emitted a blue glow under the moonlight, dutifully serving as an efficient cooling tool.
Celia yawned, and fatigue rushed in like a tide.
“Elent, close the door.”
“Iris, mop the floor clean.”
Celia curled into a ball on the reclining chair, found a comfortable position, and her voice became smaller and smaller.
“Tomorrow morning, no one is allowed to wake me…”
“I’m going to sleep… until I wake up naturally…”