The endless snowfield stretched on. Though the heavy snowfall had eased and was no longer so terrifying, visibility remained poor.
Seraphina trudged through the snow, each step feeling like treading on sharp blades or carrying a thousand-pound weight.
The biting wind had long stolen all sensation from her limbs. It was as if something else was propelling her body forward, but she could no longer feel what it was.
The searing pain in her chest battered the last threads of her willpower.
The jerky in the oil paper packet was gone. Only a few sticky mint candy residues clung to the walls of the iron tin.
She licked her cracked, bleeding lips. Without hesitation, she swallowed handfuls of grabbed snow. The brief moisture was followed by an even deeper chill that made her tremble violently, beyond control.
Her tracks in the snow were buried by fresh flakes. It felt like she might have circled back—the pungent smell in the air seemed to return faintly, only to be whisked away by the fierce wind.
Her muddled mind could barely sustain even basic thought. Each breath of icy air felt like shards of ice slicing her lungs.
When distant calls echoed in her ears, she wasn’t sure if they were real. She opened her mouth, trying to respond to what was likely just a hallucination, but all that emerged was a low, hoarse rasp.
She thought of Movira—the Demon King who terrified her, whom she fled from, yet who also made her feel safe and protected.
If Movira were here, she could stop the wind and snow in an instant. Even making flowers bloom anew across the snowfield would be effortless for her.
In her daze, Seraphina moved her lips. She didn’t know what she said…
“Movira… please wait one more lifetime…”
Thud!
Finally, she could hold on no longer. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed heavily into the snow.
The icy snow enveloped her instantly. The piercing cold, paradoxically, granted a moment of clarity.
She tried to crawl up, but her arms were limp and powerless.
Just as at the story’s beginning, the bitter weather had saved Seraphina’s life—while also urging her to return it…
Meanwhile, not far from where Seraphina had fallen, on another stretch of snowfield.
The cavalry squad led by Lina finally discovered the site of the ambush.
When the heart-wrenching scene came into view, Lina felt her heart freeze in an instant, then tear apart violently.
The cavalry drove away the beasts gnawing at their comrades’ corpses. Seeing the bodies, tears welled in their eyes.
“No—no—!” A throat-shredding scream burst from her lips. She lost all reason, tumbling from the carriage shaft and throwing herself desperately into the ravaged snow.
Using flames conjured by magic, she melted the thick snow layer before her.
Tears streamed down, freezing into ice on her cheeks. “Seraphina! Where are you?!”
No one knew better than Lina how much Seraphina feared pain. If these cavalry hadn’t survived… then fragile as she was, Seraphina probably…
“You’re definitely still alive, right?!”
The sun in her eyes would never be extinguished by the winter plain’s wind and snow!
When she finally unearthed the shattered carriage, it was empty inside.
She slumped into the snow, staring blankly at the charred remains.
…
Yet just as despair threatened to swallow her, her gaze locked onto the familiar wooden chest that had been pried open!
She lunged forward, fingers trembling as she inspected the contents.
“The cloak is gone, the food too, and the potion bottle is empty!”
Someone had touched the chest and taken the supplies!
“It was taken—Seraphina did this! She’s alive! She’s alive!” Lina jerked her head up, eyes still wet with tears blazing with near-mad light.
Suppressing her emotions, she shot to her feet and barked at the cavalry behind her. “Hurry—send word back to Bask! We need more hands urgently. The rest, stay here and search with me!”
“If anything happens to Her Highness, His Majesty’s wrath is something none of us could bear for lifetimes!”
“Yes!” One cavalryman took the order, spurring his magical horse and vanishing into the distance.
As Lina forcibly quelled the ominous premonitions she dared not imagine, calmly directing the search,
Seraphina’s world sank completely into boundless darkness and cold.
Her last flicker of consciousness wavered like a candle in the wind. Her body temperature continued to plummet, her movements growing ever slower.
Just as she was about to give up and accept her final fate,
Her gaze unintentionally swept across the top of a small, slightly raised snow mound ahead.
There, through the gaps in withered branches, she spotted a faint, almost imperceptible wisp… of gray smoke.
Was it a hallucination?
She could no longer tell. Let it be real, then.
Hope surged through her like a shot of adrenaline, injecting life into her crumbling body.
She didn’t know where the smoke came from—whether a friendly settlement or something far more dangerous.
But regardless, it meant traces of humans or demons. It meant a sliver of chance at survival!
She adjusted her direction. With what little strength remained, she crawled toward that wisp of smoke.
Her path left a crooked trail in the snow.
Yet even with such effort, even exhausting every ounce of energy, that hope seemed forever out of reach.
Perhaps only ten meters or so, and that sudden spark faded again. She could no longer fight the heavy eyelids or the bone-deep cold.
At the very edge of consciousness slipping away, Seraphina felt her body gently lifted by some soft force. A distant voice, as if from the horizon, reached her.
“Please hold on…”
Then, darkness swallowed her completely.
She didn’t know how much time passed before a vague warmth began seeping into her frozen, rigid body.
As if her congealed blood started flowing slowly once more, she painstakingly regained consciousness bit by bit. Her heavy eyelids trembled, “chipping open” a narrow slit.
Blurred light flooded her vision first, followed by warm, gentle sunlight and a faint sweet fragrance entering her nose.
She found herself lying on a soft bed, covered by clean, warm blankets.
Her wounds had all been bandaged, and the intense pain in her chest had eased considerably.
Turning her still-stiff neck, her sight finally cleared.
It seemed to be a human woman.
The figure had long silver-white hair, with wispy bangs across her forehead.
She was slightly turned, crimson eyes focused on an open old book in her hands.
Her expression was calm. One hand propped her cheek, displaying a maturity beyond her years.
She wore light-colored clothing, with delicate ruffles and bow decorations at the collar and cuffs.
End of the Demon Realm Arc