Chapter 133
Chapter 133
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: Untimely Winter (3)
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"Do you know about the Winter Witch?"
"...What?"
Ronan's eyes widened. The moment he heard the words "Winter Witch," the fragments of memory drifting in his head snapped together at once. The untimely blizzard and snow beasts. A frozen world.
It felt like a sneeze that had been hovering on the verge finally bursting out. Schlieffen shook his head.
"No way you would. It only happened last year, after all."
Shocked, Ronan stood there blankly, unable to say a word. It seemed like he'd lost his mind after sprawling out and sleeping for two years.
Of all things, to forget that incident. Ronan had already experienced the winter the witch had unleashed once before.
"...By any chance, is the Winter Witch a woman named Evelin or Evlin or something?"
"Evelyn Droza. What, you knew?"
Ronan twisted his lips. It was the same person, but something was terribly wrong. This wasn't the time for the Winter Witch to appear.
Too early.
In his previous life, the Winter Witch had emerged when Ronan was rolling hard as a penal legionnaire. She should have appeared at least a few years later for things to be normal.
He was certain of this timeline. It was one of the top-priority headaches he had to resolve after regressing. Schlieffen nodded.
"You're right. It blew up three months after Evelyn enrolled at Phileon."
"Damn it, she enrolled last year?"
Ronan spat curses. If she'd enrolled last year, even if she was older, she'd only be a young girl. It was far different from what he remembered.
"Yeah. Top freshman in the Magic Department. She beat the Lady of Acalusia in the entrance ceremony duel. Up until then, she seemed fine..."
Schlieffen clicked his tongue. Even hearing that Erzsebet had been defeated, Ronan showed no particular reaction.
Her opponent was the Winter Witch, after all. She was the worst criminal in the empire's history.
"One day, Evelyn suddenly rampaged. She trapped three Magic Department buildings in ice and fled. The cursed snow started falling that night and hasn't stopped."
Schlieffen explained that after summoning winter to the capital, she'd gone into hiding. The difference was that she'd done it while still attending Phileon, but her actions were roughly similar to his previous life.
"That bitch."
Suddenly recalling the Winter Witch from his past life, Ronan trembled in rage. The ordeal might have been shorter, but its severity was incomparable. At least the citizens now had the freedom to leave the capital.
It was a literal disaster.
Back then, the capital's citizens had been pinned down, forced to choose between starvation or freezing to death. It was thanks to the witch's atrocities, which went beyond mere cruelty. She knew exactly how to wield her power most devastatingly.
Why did she do it?
The motive for her crime remained unknown even now. The first thing the suddenly deranged witch did was bury the empire's major trade routes—including Romaira—under ice.
The empire responded immediately. They mobilized the imperial army and summoned renowned fire mages from Dawn Tower.
But the witch's power defied imagination. No ordinary method could melt or shatter the ice, and even if destroyed, it reformed. She turned the Romaira Mountains into her fortress and hunkered down.
Those trapped froze to death in the snow. Violent snow beasts and frost spirits rampaged through the blizzards.
After about a month, hunger descended on the ever-prosperous capital. The witch's siege lasted over three months.
It's definitely better than back then, but...
That time, the witch had died by Schlieffen's hand. After countless attempts, the young Sword Saint drove a blade of wind into her heart. The decisive battle amid the stormy mountains remained on people's lips until the day the giants descended.
With her heart pierced, the witch shattered into exploding ice. Ronan still remembered the roar of the massive eternal glacier collapsing. Stroking his chin, he let out a groan.
History has changed. Why?
He didn't know the reason, but he could tell a major anomaly had occurred. Finally shaking off the memories, Ronan spoke up.
"Where's the witch now?"
"A place you know well. The Fortress of Screams, Rodolan."
"What?"
Ronan frowned. This was another unexpected location. The witch being in the offshore prison Rodolan meant they'd already captured her.
"Securing her person didn't take long."
In fact, Schlieffen explained, he'd caught the witch in hiding just ten days after the snow began. Ronan cocked his head.
"Then why is this mess still going on?"
"Catching her was fine, but afterward was the problem. No matter what we tried, we couldn't breach that shell."
"Shell?"
"Yeah... That's why mages and scholars from across the continent are gathered in the capital."
Schlieffen continued his explanation. When they'd found the Winter Witch deep in a cave, her body had been encased in a thick mass of ice.
"Many powerhouses were mobilized. Dawn Tower Master Awn Philana, Imperial Knights Commander Sir Garrod—even Sword Saint Zaifa came—but in the end, none could destroy the ice."
"A thick mass of ice...?"
Suddenly, an image flashed through his mind. It felt similar to the crystal that had encased him when he awoke from his long slumber. That seemingly unbreakable crystal had crumbled the instant he touched it.
Mine wasn't ice, but... maybe...
It was pure speculation without basis, but he felt some connection. Rodolan. Muttering the name, Ronan gazed out the window. Students bundled tightly in fur garments wandered the campus.
What a shitshow.
Ronan twisted his lips. This was definitely something he needed to address.
Spring was the season for dozing off under warm sunlight and flower scents. Shivering in stupid fur hats was plenty for winter.
"Thanks for telling me. What a load of crap."
"Still, it should resolve soon. Navardoje agreed to the deal with the emperor. Likely one of her kin will come melt the ice."
Navardoje's kin meant red dragons. Fair enough—if even the hottest fire on earth couldn't melt it, there'd be no answer.
"Anyway, visit Rodolan when you get time. You have a talent for cutting what others can't, so maybe you can break that ice too. That was the point of this talk."
Schlieffen wrapped up. Rumble rumble. The white gale still battered the windows.
Ronan was sorting through his mental to-do list when—thud thud! Sudden knocking echoed from downstairs. Meeting Schlieffen's eyes, Ronan shrugged.
"Probably the senior. I called her."
Ronan dashed downstairs and opened the door. But Adeshan wasn't waiting. Seeing familiar faces, his eyes went wide.
"You guys..."
The first to catch his eye was Asel's fiery red hair. Next came Marya's noticeably fuller chest and Braum's scruffy beard, followed last by Ophelia's astonishingly unchanged face.
"Ro, Ronan...! You're really back...!"
"Asel."
Asel said, voice choked with tears. Despite two years, he hadn't grown much taller. Ronan frowned at his hair—grown so long it was tied back—and eyelashes nearly as thick as Adeshan's, making him seem even more girlish. Marya approached slowly from behind.
"Ha, it's real. How'd you get so huge?"
Marya let out a dry laugh. Her lion-like abundant blonde had become a shoulder-length bob. Even under thick furs, her toned build was evident.
She circled Ronan, gauging his height, then suddenly bowed her head deeply. A muffled voice leaked from beneath her dangling hair.
"I'm glad..."
Ronan let out a soft sigh. That single phrase revealed how much she'd worried. He patted Asel and Marya's shoulders. Braum and Ophelia chimed in.
"Uahaha! You've become a true warrior, Ronan! You sure you were just locked up doing nothing?"
"You've matured..."
Braum's eyes were red-rimmed too. Ophelia's porcelain face bore a rare smile. Whoosh! Something black darted through the door crack. Ronan chuckled.
"Sita."
"Pyaat!"
Sita, unfolding four wings, perched on Ronan's shoulder. Soft feathers tickled his nose. Suddenly sensing something off, Ronan furrowed his brow.
"But dude, why'd you get so big? Did Sis overfeed you?"
"Pyaa~"
"Damn, you're gonna eat people now."
Sita's size rivaled a large dog. No joke—its wingspan was nearly 3 meters. Amazing it hadn't gained weight.
Ronan let Sita nuzzle his face until satisfied. From the kitchen came Iril's voice: dinner was ready.
Ronan eyed his clubmates one by one. Hundreds of words swirled in his throat. Finally selecting one, he spoke.
"You all did well."
****
Ronan wolfed down five portions of stew before heading out. Whether from his two-year fast or not, his sister's cooking melted on his tongue.
He strolled the campus with the club members. Sunset rays piercing the clouds dyed the snow. The lessened blizzard made conversation easier.
"Damn, Senior Adeshan is student council president?"
"Yeah. Won by a landslide last year. She used to visit our club often, but now she's hard to spot."
Ronan chuckled dryly. They'd mentioned the student council earlier, but he hadn't realized she was president. Marya continued.
"I handle the accounting too, so I know. She does the work flawlessly. Hard to believe someone so meticulous exists."
Adeshan was hailed as the perfect student council president in every way. Being bullied in Naviroje's class felt like yesterday—truly remarkable progress. Marya spoke with clear regret dripping from her tone.
"Such a shame. Without the Winter Witch, she could've shone even more..."
She was right. Since winter struck the capital, Phileon Academy had faced unprecedented troubles.
The freshman class was half its usual size—that alone said it all. Chatting idly as they walked, Ronan bid them farewell at the grand plaza. Asel stammered.
"Th-then... see you later, Ronan. You remember the location... right?"
"Of course, dude. Who do you think I am, a monkey?"
He'd meet them at the new club building after handling urgent business. Marya giggled.
"You'll be shocked when you see it. Bring a change of underwear."
"Two years made you cocky. Better not be underwhelming."
He wondered what miracle Kratir had built to make them hype it so much. Parting from the group, he headed to Gallerion Hall, the Martial Arts Department's main building. The gray fortress was blanketed in white snow.
"Perfect timing... time to pay respects."
Muttering as he touched his ear, Ronan was off to see Naviroje.
To consult about visiting Rodolan—and to greet her properly. She'd already sulked over not checking in during break; skimping now might get his ear ripped off.
The weekend left Gallerion Hall deserted. Soon, a familiar door appeared. Towering double doors reaching the ceiling bore the bold inscription: Arena 1.
Rumble... They parted with a sound like rolling boulders. Surprisingly, lights were on inside.
A woman sat meditating in the arena's center. Bronze skin, dark green uniform. Ronan's mentor, Naviroje.
"Instructor Naviroje."
Her great earth sword, Urusa, lay beside her. Ronan waved cheerfully. No response. Even as he approached right up to her, she remained deep in meditation.
What the...?
But she looked unwell. Cold sweat trickled down her temples. Dark shadows hung under her closed eyelids.
Her lips chewed repeatedly, as if failing her meditation's goal. Finally, she opened her eyes and gasped.
"Hah...!"
She looked like someone jolted awake from a nightmare. Grind. Staring blankly at the floor, Naviroje clenched her teeth—as if burning with hatred for something. Ronan, waiting beside her, offered his canteen.
"Damn, you okay?"
"......Ronan?"
Only then did Naviroje turn her head. Meeting her eyes, Ronan frowned.
Her impression had changed starkly from two years ago. The tough aura lingered, but her characteristic leisure was gone.
Suddenly, Adeshan's words about something happening to Naviroje flashed in his mind. Naviroje took the canteen and gulped down the water.
"Ha... When did you get back?"
"Today. Instructor, you look pale."
"Just my mood. Glad you're back safe."
Naviroje spoke evenly. Her forced composure was obvious. Scanning Ronan up and down, she raised a brow.
"...You've gotten stronger."
Ronan neither confirmed nor denied. Naviroje drained the canteen in seconds and tossed it aside. Rising slowly, she gripped her great sword.
"...Ronan. Draw your sword."
"Pardon?"
Caught off-guard by the sudden demand, Ronan tilted his head. Her serious tone suggested no joke. Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, Naviroje drew her blade.
"Let's spar."