Volume 1, Episode 3
But Seherbian’s face didn’t change in the slightest at the sound of it. Akibell stared at Winter Bell, who lay there like a lazy cat and didn’t so much as twitch, then let out a long sigh as she rose to her feet.
“...Think it over carefully. I suppose this is where I stop for today.”
The seasonal dragons simply couldn’t linger long in another Bell’s territory. The winter chill was constantly pressing against Akibell, who carried the crisp, clear energy of autumn within her. She brushed the frost from the hem of her long red robe, the ice already beginning to gather on it in little white shivers, and smiled with a sharp little huff.
“Then I’m off! I’ll come back again next time!”
“Don’t.”
Akibell ignored the chilly rebuke and folded her hands together with impeccable politeness. Then she bowed her head slightly—a sign of respect and reverence for one of her own kind.
“Take good care of winter for me, Winter Bell.”
Crreeeak!
The moment she spoke her farewell, thick roots burst up from beneath her feet. They twisted together in an instant, forming a massive door.
Creak.
The wooden door opened, revealing warped space beyond it. Once Akibell disappeared through the opening, the roots scattered and vanished as though they had never existed at all.
Thunk.
Seherbian was left alone in the Ice Dragon Temple, the silence settling back over it as if no one had ever passed through.
He rolled a snowflake around in his palm for a moment, then flicked it away in a puff of frost.
What am I supposed to do about that?
He was beginning to get annoyed.
He had no interest whatsoever in the balance of the world. In the end, no matter how diligently he worked, all that came back to him was fear and curses.
In the end, Akibell’s visit hadn’t changed Seherbian’s lethargy at all.
* * *
About ten days after Akibell’s visit, Seherbian finally made up his mind.
I’m leaving.
It wasn’t only because of Akibell’s advice. Staring quietly at the empty temple, Seherbian thought to himself,
Let’s leave the Dragon Temple, just as Rowan wanted. And then...
The last dragon priest, Rowan W. Priest.
His room still held the spotless white priest’s robes he’d worn, hanging neatly where he’d left them.
I’ll decide for myself. Whether this world truly needs Winter Bell.
Seherbian took out the priest’s robes Rowan had worn and put them on. Instead of Rowan’s worn old staff, he took Mimir in hand, slung a bag full of scriptures and miscellaneous belongings over his back, and finally hung the pendant that proved his status as a priest around his neck. In an instant, he had the perfect attire of a winter dragon priest.
For a moment he savored the sight of himself reflected in the mirror in Rowan’s room, then reached out into the air.
“Liliana.”
Fluttering feathers.
A white crow appeared out of nowhere, silver feathers scattering as she flew through the air and landed lightly on his arm.
“Master!”
The white crow, Liliana.
Her silver feathers glittered like diamonds in the sunlight, and her round mint-colored eyes lent her an air of strange enchantment. Along the path of her flight, silver feathers drifted beautifully through the air. She was a bird that shone pure white in the light, as if to prove she had been born of the untainted power of winter itself and was Winter Bell’s guardian.
“Hngh, why are you calling me after so long! No, no—well, I’m glad you thought of me at all, but still.”
Unusually, Liliana’s cheeks were rosy as if she’d painted them with rouge, and that made her look far more lively than the other white crows.
When Seherbian met those affectionate mint-green eyes, he smiled faintly.
“Good morning.”
“Hah! Good morning. Hehehe.”
Seeing her master’s smiling face made Liliana beam reflexively with him, but then she shook her head rapidly from side to side.
She hadn’t noticed when she’d first been summoned because she’d been too happy to see him, but now that she looked again, Seherbian’s appearance caught her eye.
The sort of clothes priests wore, a pendant that symbolized the temple, and even a travel bag.
“Uh...? Master, those are all Rowan’s things, aren’t they?”
“Yeah.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving here.”
It was an abrupt declaration of running away from home.
Startled by that, Guardian Liliana gaped wide with her beak.
Bells weren’t ordinary dragons. It was their sacred destiny to guard their territory and fulfill the divine mission laid upon them.
Sometimes they left their domain for various reasons, but no Bell had ever truly set out on a journey or been absent for any length of time.
“W-w-where are you going?!”
“Who knows? I haven’t decided yet.”
Only then did Seherbian realize he still had no destination in mind, and he folded his arms, thinking for a moment.
“Right. Maybe I should start by heading south, where the sun is bright.”
The silver dragon, who lived on a frozen snowfield, talking about sunlight like that made Liliana’s expression turn odd.
“While I’m gone, Lil, I’m leaving this place to you. I think I can trust you with it.”
“...!”
Seherbian was right.
Among countless white crows, Liliana was the only guardian who didn’t remind Seherbian of his duty as Winter Bell. That was because, unlike the other white crows who had served Winter Bell faithfully from generation to generation, Liliana was his direct guardian by blood contract.
No matter what order she received or when, Liliana always accepted it gladly—and more than the duty of Winter Bell, she wished for Seherbian’s personal happiness.
So even against this absurd, impulsive declaration of running away, she couldn’t refuse the trust embedded in his command.
Even so! The master is really leaving this place?
Should she stop him? Or should she simply carry out his order in silence?
At that moment, a voice like a shaft of light reached her. It was her master calling her.
“Lili.”
“Y-yes! Liliana, your loyal guardian is here!”
“...?”
Seherbian gave the white crow’s overly intense, blushing face a puzzled look, then said why he’d called her.
“The Spring's Sunlight Bag Seedbell gave me before—do you still have it?”
“Yes! It’s something from spring, so I put it in the warm storage room so it wouldn’t freeze.”
“Good. Could you bring me two of them?”
Winter Bell’s lair had been built from cold ice, but not every place in it was freezing.
The guest rooms and the warm storage chamber, where items vulnerable to frost could be kept, were specially arranged spaces that held warmth.
The Spring's Sunlight Bag Seedbell, the dragon of spring, had once sent as a gift was something that needed to be kept warm, so it had been stored there.
Following Seherbian’s instruction, Liliana flew into the storage room and retrieved two palm-sized cloth pouches. She held one in her foot and carried the other in her beak as she came back out.
The mouth of each pouch had been tied shut several times with a cord, sealed so tightly that not a drop could leak out, and a tiny pink ribbon had been attached at the knot. The pouches themselves were red plaid, giving them a bright, cheerful feel—wrapping that perfectly reflected Seedbell’s lovable personality.
“Here you go!”
“Thanks.”
The Winter Bell, who’d been slumped like a steamed bun left to puff and collapse for days on end, finally dusted himself off and stood up after what felt like ages. With his white tasseled staff slung over one shoulder, he headed out of the lair, and Liliana trotted after him.
In the middle of the snowy plain, where Seherbian had walked only a short distance at a slow pace, stood a single winter butterfly tree.
Seherbian stopped in front of the winter butterfly tree, its branches heavy with heaps of white snow.
Was it because of the cold? Ten days earlier, the tree had shown fresh blue-green buds, but the flowers still hadn’t bloomed; the tightly shut buds hung pitifully from the ends of the branches.
“Ah.”
Recognizing the tree, Liliana let out an involuntary sigh. It was one her Bell had taken a liking to, so she’d made sure to remember it well.
So Bell was planning to sprinkle the Spring's Sunlight Bag over the winter butterfly tree.
The cloth pouch he’d brought from the storage room contained spring sunlight specially refined with Seedbell’s power. If it was spring sunlight full of vitality, then it should make excellent nourishment even for a tree born of winter, and Liliana could easily guess why Winter Bell had come here with the pouch in hand.
Seherbian was fiddling with the cloth pouch he’d kept pressed carefully to his chest so he wouldn’t drop it. Then, just as he seemed to have made up his mind and was about to untie the tightly bound cord, a white crow’s foot landed lightly on his fingers.
Flutter—
“Master.”
“Yeah.”
“...It’s dead. That tree.”
Through the scattering silver feathers, the frozen tree came into view.
In the end, the young winter butterfly tree had been unable to endure the dreadful cold wave Winter Bell brought with him. Seherbian stared blankly at the dead tree.
It struggled so hard to endure the cold, only to grow like this—and still never even bloom.
Every branch that poked up out of the snowfield had turned completely white with frost, and the tree had stopped all life activity where it stood.
“Yeah. It died in the meantime.”
A half-finished smile appeared on Seherbian’s face and vanished almost at once. But even after hearing Liliana’s words, he didn’t seem to care; he opened one of the Spring's Sunlight Bags he’d brought and spread it wide open.
Phat!
Between the opened crimson cloth, little yellow beads burst out one by one, carrying the warm scent of spring as they lit up the surrounding air. They were sunlight with a warmth utterly out of place in winter. The dazzling beads soon burst in midair like dandelion seeds popping open.
It was a beautiful sight. Their soft glow went on coloring the pure-white snowdrifts here and there.
“I thought that if I sprinkled spring sunlight on it, it might still bloom even in a harsh winter like this.”
With sorrowful eyes, Liliana watched the warm springlight crystals being absorbed into the branches. Once a tree was already dead, even powerful divine energy was useless.
“It looked strong because it had pushed up through the snow by itself, unlike the others.”
But in the end, it had died. Seherbian stood there as though pinned to the snow while he shook out the sunlight toward the dead tree until the cloth pouch was completely empty.
In the end, did this one die too because it met me?
Seherbian just stood there dumbly in front of the tree, and Liliana, not knowing what else to do, hovered helplessly before finally landing on one of the frozen branches. Her master’s mood seemed terribly low right now.
Jingle.
In that silence, a bell rang out, breaking the stillness. Seherbian usually ignored it without a second thought, but this time he couldn’t ignore it and lifted his staff.
Mimir’s bell was flashing on and off. It meant a prayer had arrived.
“Hah. What exactly do you want from me?”
For once, there was genuine irritation in his usually listless voice.
“What do you expect me to do?”
I can’t even save a single tree.
His icily glowing sunset-colored eyes stared at Mimir as if they meant to devour it alive.
“Unblock Notifications.”
That was all—just a whim. He’d become curious about what kind of sacred wish could possibly cause someone to seek Winter Bell so desperately.
So Winter Bell lifted the block on Mimir in front of the dead winter butterfly tree.
Jingle!
You have 1 new prayer. Would you like to view it?
Then Liliana hurriedly flapped right up to his face.
“W-wait, Master!”
“What is it?”
“Um... there was actually something I was supposed to tell you......”
Those sunset-colored eyes shone quietly, as if telling her to go on. Liliana, increasingly anxious, added one more line.
“A human has entered Blanconia!”
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