Snowy Mountains (Epilogue)
"The fire I make can't melt the snow I make. Pretty amazing, right? Oh, except for the snow in the Snowy Mountains. That one's made by my master, so it does melt."
-Wiggle-
"That's why I can make stuff like snow fire and roll it around. And it even tastes good. Like smoked snow. You should try it next time. It's sneakily delicious."
-Wiggle wiggle-
"Hmm, but here I am, sharing all these tips on eating snow like a pro, and you won't even respond. That's kinda upsetting."
I blew out the fireballs I'd been juggling.
I paired up the remaining snowballs two by two and turned them into little Snowy friends.
Only then did I glance to the side.
A guy wearing a skull mask over his face and a hood pulled low was wriggling around desperately.
His mouth was stuffed full of snow.
Oh right, I'd plugged his mouth because he was so noisy.
"But why didn't you eat it? I picked the cleanest ones specially for you."
I pulled the snow out of his mouth, and that's when he started thrashing for real.
"Please, please spare me! What did I ever do to you?!"
"You weren't after my master's heart, were you?"
"What? Master? No way, you're that dragon's disciple...?"
"Ding ding ding. Correct, but no prize. Want some smoked snow instead?"
"Eeeek, no... I don't wanna die!!"
Why was he suddenly freaking out like that?
I'd been following America's fine tradition of giving death row inmates a last meal before execution—something tasty before the end.
But if he was gonna thrash like this, no choice. I'd have to send him off gently.
I formed a snowball in my right hand and cloaked it in fire.
"Still, for killing my master, this is pretty merciful—"
The moment I went to throw the snow fire.
"Stop!"
Someone was rushing toward me from afar.
No, not rushing—more like flying at me at breakneck speed.
There'd been no one around here a second ago.
It was a total surprise attack, so I dodged on reflex and snuffed out the snow fire.
"Whoa!"
Luckily, I avoided it by falling on my butt, but the skull-masked guy took the chance to bolt.
...What the hell was that?
-Hummm!-
I circulated my mana.
The new magic I'd gained from the Dragon Heart: snow magic.
Simply put, I could control snow.
Make it fall, create it.
Or move existing snow. As I activated the Dragon Heart to bind the attacker's feet with snow—
-Thud.
The mana flow stopped.
The wriggling snow on the ground lost control and flopped flat, and I collapsed too.
My heart hurt.
Not my original one—the Dragon Heart.
I flopped face-first into the snow.
For my final sensation before death to be snow... not bad—
**
"...Yeah."
I snapped my eyes open and muttered the last words I hadn't been able to say.
But since I'd opened my eyes, they weren't my last words after all.
"Unfamiliar ceiling."
It wasn't the rough cave ceiling I'd stared at for the past three years. This was a proper one.
A chandelier hung from it, along with pretty things I didn't recognize dangling all around.
Pretty fancy house.
"Don't tell me everything up till now was a dream and I'm actually some rich villainess lady—"
"Y-You're awake..?"
Nope.
I turned my head and saw a familiar face.
"It's the girl who stabbed me!"
"I didn't kill you! And you're alive, see?!"
It was just a light joke, but the girl bolted upright and yelled.
She had long silver hair past her shoulders and red eyes.
And.
"Not as big as my master's, but pretty impressive."
"...What is?"
"You know, that."
That was my first impression of her.
Last thing: the sword at her waist.
"You stabbed me with that expensive-looking sword."
"You dodged!"
"But you tried to stab me."
"W-Well, yeah... but you were trying to kill someone first!"
"There were circumstances. That group killed my master."
"Circumstances my ass... What?"
The silver-haired girl yelled, then froze.
She seemed to mull over my last words for a bit, then gasped and clapped both hands over her mouth.
"......Sorry."
"It's fine. I'll catch them all eventually anyway."
"...."
"...."
An awkward silence stretched out.
The itchy, full-body kind. Just as I was thinking of breaking it with some snow,
"U-Um!"
The silver-haired girl spoke first.
"What is it?"
"Are you, by any chance... a witch?"
"...Do I look that scary?"
Personally, I was pretty confident in this new body.
My master had said it was pretty, too.
What I'm saying is, I didn't look witchy enough for that on first sight.
Flustered by my words, the silver-haired girl flapped her hands wildly in denial.
"No, that's not it! Hold on...."
She opened the drawer by my bed and pulled out a book, handing it to me.
It looked like a picture book—not too thick.
"Wanna read it?"
"Sure, why not."
Flip flip. I turned the pages.
Even in this era, illustrators existed, huh.
I really liked the art style. Nice picture book.
Thud. I closed it, and she spoke in a tense voice.
"How was it..?"
"Fun. Especially the part where the silver-haired heroine calls down a meteor for the dead protagonist. That stuck with me."
"...You didn't read it, did you?"
"Can't read."
For real.
It was the first time I'd seen proper writing since landing here.
With my master, we just talked—no letters or anything.
I thought since the language worked, the writing would too, but apparently not.
"So, could you read it to me?"
"First time reading to someone else, but... sure, I'll give it a shot."
The fairy tale she read was a cliché.
A witch lived in the untrodden Snowy Mountains.
She kidnapped nearby village kids and turned them into snowmen to do her bidding.
The ending: a young knight passing by defeats the witch, and the kids go home.
Typical "don't go out late at night" moral.
"...So basically, I'm the witch who kidnaps village kids and turns them into snowmen?"
"Uh, yeah, kinda?"
"Yeah. Wanna get scolded?"
"Sorry...."
My impression of the silver-haired girl so far: innocent noble girl vibe.
Who could wield a sword.
Just from how she treasured that picture book and wore those cute pink pajamas.
"So, if I were the witch from the story, what were you gonna do?"
"I-I, well...."
She fidgeted with her toes.
Face and ears a bit red, hiding her eyes behind the book.
"...I always dreamed of becoming a snowman...."
"You're nuts."
Dreaming of becoming a snowman.
...Not like I could talk.
Anyway.
"This North where I live gets a ton of snow. Piles up deep, too. So as a kid, I made a bunch with my dad."
"Making so many snowmen naturally led to wanting to become one?"
"Yes! You get it."
"I've had similar experiences."
Anyway, dreaming of becoming a snowman.
Never tried it, but maybe I could?
My magic wasn't exactly fire-related anymore.
But here, with the Dragon Heart.
Using the Dragon Heart lets me do snow magic.
So far, I'd made and manipulated snow.
But turning non-snow stuff—or a living thing—into snow? Never tried.
"...Not sure if it'll work great, but I'll try."
I got out of bed and struck a pose.
Circulated mana, and at the same time, the Dragon Heart—
-Thud!
"Kehack..!"
Splurt. Blood sprayed from my mouth.
"You okay?!"
The silver-haired girl propped me up as blood dripped from my mouth.
She even wiped it off and laid me back down.
Sweet girl.
"What's wrong with this...?"
This time, I circulated mana without activating the Dragon Heart.
-Hummm.
I could feel the fire mana moving fine.
But trying to use the Dragon Heart made my heart hurt again.
Guess my body wasn't fully adapted to it yet.
Makes sense—I'd overdone it these past few days.
Fending off those Dawn Church guys after the Dragon Heart.
"Sorry. Looks like I can't use snow magic for a while."
"No! If anything, I'm sorry—I feel like I pushed you too hard...."
The silver-haired girl was definitely sweet.
Like, the type who'd cook without complaint if you took her along like a bear buddy.
Anyway.
Better not use the Dragon Heart for a bit.
Just as I thought that.
-Knock knock.
"Miss, the Grand Duke is here."
"Ehh, Dad..?"
The silver-haired girl dashed to the door at the voice outside.
Click. The door opened to reveal.
"Whoa, he's huge."
A seriously big guy.
But he seemed unwell—servants supported him on both sides as he entered.
Silver hair the same as the girl's, with a beard. An old man.
So that's her dad. Looked like the type who'd charmed plenty of ladies in his day.
"Dad, you're not well—why come all the way here?"
"Can't just lie around with a guest here."
Her father shuffled closer to the bed, leaning on her support.
"Ahem, I heard our daughter was rude—"
The dignified voice cut off mid-sentence.
Thinking he'd heard something, I waited.
-Sching!
The sword at the silver-haired girl's waist was suddenly in her father's hand.
"...To think the vile lizard bitch infiltrated our home."
"Huh? What are you—"
"You think you can hide it? I've endured all these years thinking only of you! Dreaming of driving my sword into that heart."
Ah.
Then it clicked—an old story my master once told.
Long ago, she'd fought a Swordmaster.
No way that Swordmaster was the silver-haired girl's dad.
I scanned the elderly Swordmaster gripping the blade.
From head to toe, mana rose without a single gap.
This is bad. Real bad.