Phantom of the Frost Witch
Freira Skadi. Daughter of Iskandar, the great chieftain of the Enutai tribal alliance. Born with the gift of a pathfinder. Even at her young age, she'd undergone her coming-of-age rite. Joining the dragon subjugation expedition was part of that ritual.
That was my conclusion, drawn from my pre-possession knowledge.
"Fire... if it hits. ...Can't."
The girl repeating the same words over and over—she had to be Skadi. Her hair and features matched perfectly.
Singed by the Breath of Oblivion, no doubt. This was the fire dragon's domain, after all.
Experiencing it firsthand made me let out a hollow chuckle. When I was just playing this romance fantasy game, it hadn't felt this visceral.
I'd possessed the End of Empire and just met Skadi for the first time moments ago.
I remembered entering barbarian territory. And getting here afterward.
But who had led the way? That was a blur, hazy and vague like ash caked on everything.
If I weren't the possessor, I'd never have figured it out.
What kind of ridiculous power is this?
No one recognized Skadi. Opinions split two ways.
"That's barbarian garb. Kill her quick and clean, no loose ends."
Spicy take. Knight Captain Adelheit.
"...But she's too young. I oppose killing her."
Mild take. Freira Karstein.
Amid the bickering, someone timidly raised a hand. Apparently, there was a third opinion.
"I-I'll look after her. Please put away your swords. She's just a child."
Sweet take. Alsanna Erhen.
Her innocently pure suggestion drew all eyes. As Alsanna approached, Skadi bared her teeth. Amnesiacs had lost their intellect, leaving only instinct.
Crunch.
In an instant, she clambered up and chomped Skadi's shoulder hard. The paladins gripped their maces tighter, but Alsanna held them back.
"It's... okay. Just gag her."
"Your Excellency, if I may..."
"Please. I believe the Lord shines upon all people."
Alsanna tore a strip from the hem of her priestess robes and tied it around Skadi's mouth. Not wanting to hurt the child's teeth with a real gag, she'd used soft fabric instead.
"There, all good now?"
"Mmph. Mmmph."
"Alsanna. Your shoulder's bleeding."
Freira fretted, but Alsanna just smiled. A miracle would fix it, she said.
I trembled once more at the world's injustices.
Why the hell didn't this girl become a Saintess? For real.
After the lame bishop's serious mom-con moment, I took point into the outer city's ruins.
Every time a residual image appeared, I bashed it with my mace. After repeating this enough, I learned one fact.
'Affected memories are limited to post-possession.'
My original world's memories were intact. And post-possession? Nothing major. Brewing coffee, cleaning floors—that's it.
Residual images mimicking that? Harmless.
"Whoa... Tin Can's got it good."
"Lord, in my next life, let me be born an automaton too."
"H-Hamel! Don't break it, do something!!"
Turns out there was something after all.
A memory of massaging Freira's heart popped up. The knight captain jotted down every knight drooling over it.
"Urgh..."
"Oh? Ohoho. Whoa... oh ho? Heh heh heh."
"Wh-Why are you all turning into monkeys...?"
Then a memory of Alsanna stretching in her tight priestess robes. The knights collectively turned amnesiac, forgetting human speech.
But damn, what killer jiggle.
Passing the melted cathedral ruins, I heard phantom bell tolls. Murmured prayers too. One lurking residual image bumped right into Skadi.
It shifted into a barbarian kid and spoke.
"Alsan—"
"Shh!!"
Clang!
Early suppression this time.
"Did that residual image just... call my name?"
"Alsanna, you must be tired. Want to rest a bit?"
Freira smoothly covered, averting disaster.
By midday, the inner citadel gates loomed. Beyond them lay the dragon's nest—the palace.
One problem: residual images clustered thick on the gates, like a mass of gray-white blobs writhing. The courtyard swarmed with amnesiacs too.
Looked like a big fight brewing, so we ducked into an abandoned tavern.
"This is it."
The knight captain said after slicing an amnesiac. Fewer survivors than expected. The knights slumped against walls, checking weapons.
"Don't forget—our goal is clearing a path for the young lady to enter the nest."
"Yes. I know."
"May the Lord shine upon all creation."
The Holy Kingdom folk nodded along with the knights.
Freira sat beside me, face tense. The pressure was crushing her.
"Hamel... Why me, of all people?"
"Because only you can do it, miss."
I whispered softly.
Doting dad Ulrich had approved her expedition for one reason.
Only sorcery could counter Dragon Words. They operated on the same principle.
Mysteries that enforced phenomena through language. Magic couldn't touch that realm. It was the origin of magic itself—Dragon Words and sorcery.
And right now, only one person in the Empire wielded sorcery.
The Frost Witch's sole bloodline. Freira.
"We can't delay. If Malgras regains its full power devouring memories..."
Even the Frost Witch herself couldn't stop it.
"Yeah. I know."
Freira clutched Frost's Oath. Probably her fear—not the dragon, but the clinging residual image horde at the gates.
She might relive that day again.
I clasped the grand duke's daughter's hand.
"Miss. Listen close. You're scared. Terrified, even."
"...Yeah. Sorry. I'm being pathetic."
I smiled to reassure her.
"Remember—no one knows if what you saw was real."
Freira tilted her head. I explained patiently.
"Malgras eats memories. Once digested, it spits them back out."
"So..."
"Yeah. Think they'd come out unchanged after that stomach trip?"
I held back for her healthy growth, but this should suffice.
The grand duke's daughter gripped me and stood, resolved. She'd have to face it with her own eyes, after all.
"...Let's go."
Geared knights surrounded Freira. I stood right beside her.
Beyond the inner gates, no snow remained. Melted away by the fire dragon's heat.
Gray-white residual image clumps clung to the gates, squirming. Nearby amnesiacs multiplied, shambling closer.
As we approached, the scenery shifted in a blink. Crossing the threshold, the horde's collective memory replayed.
I stood amid a blizzard-swept plain. Snow howled from the skies.
"Hamel. This feels like... my mother's memory. Before she had me."
Freira swallowed hard.
The Frost Witch, Euterpe. The worst witch who'd ravaged the Empire for centuries. Before gaining a human heart, she'd ruled as a demon, dyeing the entire tundra red with blood.
I looked ahead. Mountains of frozen corpses. Banners of every color, ancient armor scattered. Every face encased in frost.
Atop it, the Frost Witch cackled madly.
Damn, Mother-in-Law again. Gotta shut this down quiet.
Same Entity Repeated Encounter
Getting kinda repetitive.
The knight captain bellowed. Swords cleaved amnesiacs pushing through the memory. Alsanna chanted prayers, cradling Skadi.
Freira and I passed them by.
"More worms wriggling in."
The cackling witch turned. Spotting Freira, her mirth vanished.
"...You. What are you?"
Your daughter. Hard to believe, but true. Twinsies, right?
Freira hesitated, then spoke.
"I-I'm..."
"Stop. Got it. Illusion or memory, huh. No horns—you're a worm half-breed?"
True witch, sharp as ever. Euterpe scoffed.
"No way I'd mix with worms. They must've forced themselves on me."
"Wh-Why say it like that."
Euterpe dismissed Ulrich and Freira alike. To her then, just lowly humans.
Freira trembled, then clenched her fists.
"...Mom."
"Ha."
One mocking laugh—that was all the reply. The witch gazed down at her own blood.
"Why're you here."
"...I wanted to know. Why you abandoned me."
"Guess you didn't meet expectations. Still asking dumb questions like a moron."
Her emotionless tone matched her icy expression. Euterpe sighed.
"You know what the blood in your veins means?"
A slender finger pointed down. Piles of wretched human corpses.
"You'll become like me. Can't fight demon blood."
"No. I—"
"Enough."
Even inside the memory, power laced her words. The witch, versed in sorcery, sneered.
"That's why I ditched you."
Hurt just hearing it beside her.
But this was memory's core. Not Euterpe's actual words. And Malgras-spat, so twisted further.
Freira said nothing, just stared at her mother with reddening eyes.
Still a fragile bird in a cage, huh.
As I reached for my mace, the air froze.
"Pierce."
Squelch.
An ice bolt slammed into Euterpe's torso—dead center.
Freira climbed the corpse mound, facing the Frost Witch.
"Ah. Ahaha! See? My daughter, committing filial impiety. That's our nature."
"Shut it."
Crackkk.
Ice claws sealed the witch's mouth.
Oh...
I'm a bit scared now. Never piss off witch blood.
Freira shook her head and snapped at the residual image.
"My mom never said crap like that. No proof, but."
She kicked it off the mound. Explosions followed.
The blizzard scenery faded. Shattered residual image clumps remained, knights holding back encroaching amnesiacs.
"Climb to the nest! We'll hold them here!"
The knight captain shouted. Nearby, Alsanna healed wounded while soothing Skadi.
"There there. Good girl?"
"Mmmph mmph."
Looked more like chomping intent.
I led Freira through the gates. Amid dripping residual images, a watery murmur echoed.
"Don't forget. ...too much... hold and come find. ...will shine. ...tell them."
Freira echoed slowly. Her eyes widened.
"...It's clearer now. For ten years, I could barely hear it."
Amazed to herself, she whipped around, gauging my reaction.
"Hamel. I'm not weird, right? This is from my dreams..."
"I know, miss."
I pointed to Frost's Oath. Clear blue light, near-translucent, emanated.
"How do you know everything?"
"Secret."
"Can an automaton keep secrets from their owner?"
"Fine, I'll show all then. Wanna see my bare frame and internals?"
"Hey!!"
Grumbling, Freira crossed the gates and glanced back.
"...Thanks. For saying the memories I've seen might not be real."
"Miss."
"You're kind, Hamel."
Her forced smile looked sad.
"I know. Mom was a witch, right? So those memories... they're probably true."
Demons can't grasp human hearts—that's common sense.
I followed her over the threshold. Ahead loomed a massive crater, palace melted into a volcanic pit.
Royal Palace Ruins. Malgras's nest, devourer of memories.
At the deepest point, a house-sized fire dragon eyed us. Like delicacies on a plate.
I'll make you puke it up.
"Miss. Ever made yourself puke?"
"Wh-What!? Out of nowhere..."
"Gonna make Malgras do it."
I cut myself off.
Malgras's power wasn't oblivion. Its breath just made you forget everything—that's the rumor.
Better to show than tell.