In the end, Juliessa still agreed to take them back to the Village to search for the Pure Heart.
Even so, her heart remained filled with guilt, as if she were betraying her homeland.
Leaving the Snow City Fortress, the carriage rolled along a forest path thickly covered in snow, crunching loudly beneath its wheels.
Outside the window was a world wrapped in silver; only the evergreen pines revealed a stubborn hint of green.
Inside the carriage, Iserine gazed at the fleeting snowscape outside the window, her expression somewhat absent.
The closer she got to that place, the more her memories surged in her mind.
Suddenly, her eyes sharpened.
“Stop the carriage!” she called out urgently.
The carriage slowly came to a halt. Iserine opened the door, and under Selis’s puzzled gaze, she strode quickly toward the roadside thicket and parted the bushes.
There, a furry snow rabbit had its hind leg caught in a Beast Trap, its blood staining a patch of the surrounding white snow red.
It trembled, its ruby-like eyes full of fear.
Iserine immediately crouched down, her movements gentle, wholly unlike her in battle.
Her fingertips gathered a faint warmth of magic, which she carefully applied to the wound, afraid of causing the snow rabbit more pain.
“This Beast Trap… it’s probably their handiwork again,” she muttered.
Juliessa stood behind her, watching the scene.
The cold lines on her face unconsciously softened as she explained in a low voice to Selis beside her:
“Our Village has no name, nor much to play with, so the children here often sneak out into this Snow City Forest.”
“They bring the Village’s hunting Beast Traps and other snares, set them up here in the forest, and then hide nearby to watch the animals struggle in their final moments.”
“Judging by the snow on the path, though, this Beast Trap must have been set for quite some time. Those mischievous kids should have already gone back to the Village.”
At this, she folded her arms and chuckled softly.
“Iserine is different. She may look cold on the outside, but she’s soft-hearted, especially when it comes to seeing cute little creatures injured. Back in the Village, she would often secretly feed wounded animals.”
“In other words, she has no resistance to cute things. To protect them, she’s even done things that I sometimes… can’t quite understand.”
After saying this, Juliessa shook her head, her smile helpless.
No matter how incomprehensible Iserine’s actions were, those days had already passed.
That was her childhood self. Whatever she did back then, now there was only nostalgia.
That’s the Filter of Childhood.
Selis watched quietly, her gaze falling on Iserine’s focused and gentle profile.
She nodded slightly, a look of understanding flashing in her eyes.
Iserine skillfully stopped the little rabbit’s bleeding, then used a Healing Spell to tend the wound, and finally placed it gently beneath an evergreen pine, away from the road.
“Go home now,” she whispered.
The little rabbit glanced back at her, then pushed off with its hind legs and disappeared from sight.
Back in the carriage, Iserine’s mood seemed to have eased a little.
Juliessa looked at her, smiling wryly.
“After all these years, you still haven’t changed a bit.”
“Cute things are hard to resist, after all.”
Iserine retorted for once, though as she spoke, her right hand propped up her cheek, and she looked directly at Selis, as if there was some deeper meaning in her gaze.
But Selis didn’t notice; faced with her stare, she simply responded with a faint smile.
The Village where Juliessa and Iserine lived was quite unique.
After passing a waterfall within the forest, everyone disembarked from the carriage and walked through the curtain of falling water.
Behind the curtain was a pitch-black cave, faintly shimmering with magic.
Juliessa murmured an incantation, and after a moment, the cave transformed into a path leading straight to the secluded Village.
Selis followed them into the Village boundary.
At just a glance, she could see the huge Great Tree at the center of the Village, and clustered around it were low, wooden houses.
In the air here was a sense of seclusion from the world, along with an unspoken oppression.
The villagers watched these unfamiliar guests, especially Selis in her snow-white attire, pausing their work to cast curious and wary glances their way.
However, once some recognized Iserine, those gazes shifted to aversion and fear.
Not long after, a fourteen or fifteen-year-old girl in a thick fur coat burst from the crowd.
She pointed at Iserine, face full of undisguised hatred, and shrieked:
“Witch! You should have been burned at the stake, Witch! How dare you come back?! You and the outsiders you brought will bring disaster to our Village! Get out!”
That voice, filled with hostility, was like an icicle piercing the thin veneer of peace.
Iserine’s body stiffened imperceptibly, but she quickly straightened her back, her face regaining its usual coolness. She didn’t even spare the girl a glance.
Selis looked toward the furious girl and softly asked, “Who is she?”
“Mara.”
Juliessa instinctively stepped forward, subtly shielding Iserine behind her as she explained quickly and quietly, “She’s the daughter of the current Village Chief.”
“The current one?”
“Mm. Iserine is the granddaughter of the previous Village Chief. She was branded as a Witch and eventually tied to the Execution by Fire. That decision was made by her grandfather… I just found a chance to rescue her ahead of time.”
Bringing up the past, Juliessa deliberately lowered her voice, not wanting Iserine to hear, perhaps fearing she’d recall those memories and feel pain.
But Mara would not think so.
She continued shouting:
“Get out! You don’t belong here!”
Originally, Iserine had no intention of dealing with Mara, but after being chased away repeatedly—even a clay figure has a temper.
She narrowed her eyes and sneered, “Get out? And who do you think you are?!”
“You—”
“Mara! That’s enough!”
Mara wanted to say more, but a low, authoritative voice rang out at the perfect moment, breaking the tense atmosphere.
The new Village Chief, Marco, strode out from the largest wooden house, frowning at Mara with obvious displeasure.
Reaching her side, he grabbed Mara’s arm, pulling her behind him.
Then he turned to Iserine and Juliessa, a warm yet nervous smile spreading across his face.
“Father?”
Mara looked up, disbelief and grievance filling her eyes as she stared at her father’s broad back.
Marco ignored his daughter and instead turned to the trio, bowing slightly with an apologetic face.
“I’m sorry, so sorry! Iserine, Juliessa, and this lady…”
His gaze paused meaningfully on Selis, and after sizing her up, he looked away. “Mara is young and ignorant and offended you all; I apologize on her behalf.”
“Father, why?!” Mara bit her lip, anxious and confused. “They really are—”
“Enough! Mara, go back!” Marco snapped, sharply cutting her off. His gaze turned severe in an instant. “This is not something for you to meddle in!”
His tone brooked no argument.
“…Hmph!”
Frightened by her father’s unprecedented sternness, Mara stomped her foot hard, her eyes reddening with resentment as she glared at Iserine before turning and running off.
Only then did Marco turn back, once again putting on his genial smile as if nothing had happened.
“Iserine, you’ve finally returned…”
His tone was full of emotion, like a friend not seen in many years. At the same time, he stepped aside to make way, inviting them warmly, “Come, come in. It’s cold outside.”
Iserine didn’t refuse. After exchanging a glance with Selis, she followed Marco into the Village Chief’s house.
Inside, the fireplace burned brightly, filling the room with warmth and light.
Seated on a wooden sofa, Marco’s gaze once more landed on Selis, filled with careful curiosity. He asked, “And this is…?”
Iserine pursed her lips and quietly said, “Selis, you could say she’s… a friend of mine.”
She had no intention of telling Marco Selis’s true identity. For some reason, the nicer this Village Chief was to her, the more uncomfortable she felt.
“I see.”
Marco nodded as if enlightened, then his expression grew deeply remorseful.
He looked at Iserine, then at Juliessa, his voice becoming heavy and sincere:
“Iserine, you have suffered all these years. It was our mistake, and Juliessa, too—I apologize to you both on behalf of all the villagers.”
As he said this, he even gave a slight bow.
Juliessa was flustered by his unexpected formality, instinctively reaching out to stop him. “Village Chief, what are you doing?”
“It’s what I should do.”
Marco straightened, pain and regret written all over his face.
“It’s what we owe you. Actually, when the previous Village Chief declared Iserine a Witch and demanded her Execution by Fire, I didn’t agree with it.”
“It’s just, back then, I was powerless and had no voice. I couldn’t help you… Iserine, you don’t blame your uncle, do you?”
He looked at Iserine with genuine remorse.
Iserine’s expression remained blank, unmoved by his act. Instead, she cut straight to the point. “The previous Village Chief—where is he now?”
“Him? He passed away several years ago, buried now in the Ancestor’s Grave.”
Marco’s sorrow deepened. Then he turned to Juliessa.
“And you, Juliessa, I was foolish back then to join in agreeing to exile you from the Village… If you would both return and stay here, you would be most welcome!”
He spread his arms in a gesture of openness.
But Iserine refused without hesitation, even arching her lips in a mocking smile.
“No thanks. I have no intention of living in a place that once tried to burn me alive.”
“Iserine! What are you saying?!”
Seeing how blunt Iserine was, Juliessa hurriedly tugged her sleeve, quietly stopping her, face full of embarrassment and unease.
In her view, this Village Chief wasn’t a bad person. However much they resented the past, they shouldn’t be rude to someone offering kindness.
Besides, this Village Chief hadn’t been among those who persecuted them back then.
Marco’s facial muscles twitched, but he quickly replaced it with deeper understanding, waving his hand and speaking gently:
“It’s all right, it’s all right. I know how much Iserine resents us. Such hatred won’t fade overnight, so I don’t expect you to forget the past.”
He appeared extremely understanding.
He glanced at the sky darkening outside and naturally changed the subject, again wearing his hospitable smile:
“It’s getting late. You haven’t eaten dinner yet, have you? I’ll have my wife prepare something, and we’ll all eat together. It’s the least we can do to welcome you back.”
Marco gave his wife a signal. She nodded and turned toward the kitchen, but Iserine didn’t play along. She fixed her gaze on Marco and suddenly asked:
“Aren’t you going to ask why we’ve come back?”
Marco froze, as if surprised. He then ventured, “You didn’t come to stay?”
Iserine snorted, unreserved contempt in her voice.
“Why stay here? Just to drink that Holy Water and eke out another thirty years? Marco, you think too highly of yourself.”
Juliessa blushed, feeling that Iserine was being too blunt, but she didn’t stop her, pretending not to notice.
As for Marco, his face flickered for a moment but quickly returned to normal.
“Then… why have you come?”
Iserine took a step forward, narrowing her eyes. “To take the Pure Heart.”
Silence.
The air seemed to freeze; even the whistling wind outside paused for a moment.
Marco’s pupils shrank sharply, the smile on his face utterly frozen.
Several seconds passed before he seemed to digest her words, and then he forced a bitter smile.
“Of course… the Pure Heart is, in the end, just another kind of shackle. We’ve been trapped here for generations because of it.”
“If you can take it away, that might not be so bad. Maybe, for the Village, it would be a kind of release.”
He changed the subject, his tone again warm and welcoming.
“But let’s discuss all that tomorrow. For tonight, have dinner at my house first. After all, it’s not easy to come home after so long.”
Just then, Marco’s wife emerged from the kitchen with an array of dishes: venison, smoked fish, meat soup, and some honey wine brewed by the villagers.
After everyone sat down, Marco stood up with a smile and poured them drinks himself.
“Come, Selis, Iserine, Juliessa, don’t be shy!”
“Let bygones be bygones. The fact that you’ve come back means everyone welcomes you! After all, this will always be your home!”
At the table, he was an excellent host, even taking the initiative to ask about the outside world.
It was as if he saw through Selis’s status, treating her with particular respect.
Yet, in the unnoticed corners, whenever Marco turned to ask his wife to add more dishes, the warmth on his face would instantly vanish, replaced by the sly smile of an old fox.