Finally.
Amid the echoes of “Snow!” that rang through the entire Extreme North Mountain Range, Sang lost consciousness. It wasn’t just his body that had reached its limit—his mind was showing signs of collapse as well.
In the end, he never saw Snow Hill’s choice.
He had no idea how long he slept. When Sang opened his eyes again, he found himself in a room at the Hill Family Manor.
He was alone in the room.
The fireplace was still crackling away, flames roaring and sending sparks dancing into the air now and then. It made the space feel a little less lonely.
Sang lay on the bed and turned his head toward the window. Outside, the world was pitch black, pierced only by faint slivers of light. No snow was falling—it must have been a clear night. He tried to move a bit more, but even the slightest motion sent stabbing pains through his body, making his scalp tingle.
The physical agony was somehow bearable.
But compared to his body, the pain in his brain was far worse. Immense mental strain had his mind quaking…
Actually quaking… not a joke…
His head felt like it was splitting open!
“Fuck! What… the hell?” the young man muttered to himself.
Though Sang was still far from the world’s peak, he had danced on the edge of death before. He knew his injuries well enough—this shouldn’t have been so bad.
Even if the pain was this intense, it should have been in his arms, not his brain.
The next second, realization dawned. “Could this be the side effect of entering Snow Hill’s [Channel]?”
It hadn’t seemed like much at the time, but the aftereffects were brutal.
After that, he didn’t dare think too hard.
He emptied his mind for a long stretch until the throbbing eased. Only then did he resume his thoughts.
On reflection, it made sense. Though it had lasted only about five minutes, he had gained power rivaling the family head’s during that time. Otherwise, he never could have beaten Gallo.
A mortal body wielding godlike strength.
Surviving at all was a miracle.
But now, calmly considering it, why had he suddenly awakened such power?
Sang meant to ponder further, but as he did, his brain shuddered again. Pain overwhelmed him, and he blacked out.
An hour later, he regained consciousness. This time felt a touch better. He still couldn’t speak properly, managing only a light cough to alert the servants outside.
Sure enough, his sound drew attention.
Light footsteps approached soon after. He figured it was the Pink-Haired Little Lolita or a Hill Family Manor servant.
Instead, a faint chill swept in, and a tall, elegant figure appeared at his bedside.
It was Snow Hill.
What surprised the young man even more was her attire—no knight’s armor, but a white velvet nightgown with lace-trimmed slippers. Her ice-blue hair cascaded freely, and simple bandages wrapped her wounds. She was the pinnacle of mature beauty.
“You’re awake…”
Her voice remained as cool and detached as ever, almost impersonal. Yet the young man caught the unique emotion woven into it. They had shared a [Channel], after all—no helping that.
Sang stayed flat on the bed, whispering weakly, “Yeah… how… long… was I… out?”
“A week… Don’t talk. It’s too much strain.”
“Urgh…” Sang could hardly believe it.
“It’s true. Seven days and nights… Nothing woke you. Hufer was ready to plan your funeral. I was prepared to head to the capital and atone with my death.”
“…”
Frankly, though surprised, Sang had half-expected it. The gnawing thirst and hunger confirmed the fact.
A whole week without food or water!
Pure misery. To distract himself, he took in Snow in her non-knight state.
Shameful as it was to admit, it worked wonders. Turns out those old action flicks weren’t wrong—eye candy really dulled the pain.
Snow Hill had a supermodel figure. Her knight armor had hidden it well, but the nightgown revealed every perfect curve. Even in flat slippers, she stood a clean 5’11”.
Yet she remained utterly aloof from anything seductive.
Her innate icy aura made her a thousand-year snow lotus—beautiful from afar, untouchable. Those almond-shaped eyes, meant for passion but cold as frost, captured her contradictions perfectly. Her thin lips parted indifferently. “I’ve called the servants. They’ll bring food soon… Wait just a bit. Drink some water first.”
With that, Snow Hill sat on the bed’s edge. Since Sang couldn’t move and had been out so long, gulping water would be risky. She dipped her finger in a cup, then gently touched it to his lips.
Though her slender finger carried a chill, in that moment, it felt strangely warm.
Especially to his parched throat—long drought meeting sweet rain.
…
Another ten minutes or so passed.
“Mm… You okay?” Sang had sipped the water and felt steadier, still weak but able to speak.
“I woke half a day before you. Only managed to get up a few hours ago… But I had motivation. As a high-level Blood Race member, my self-healing outstrips you humans. My wounds are already mending.”
That explained her outfit, too.
On another note, Sang could tell the war had paused, but Snow still looked burdened. Perhaps grieving her father’s death, or wrestling with her final choice—whether to become family head!
Sang thought for a moment and changed the subject. “What about Hesos?”
“Brother’s fine. Gallo sealed his mind with the [Philosopher’s Stone]’s power, so he stayed unconscious through the battle… With Gallo dead and the [Philosopher’s Stone] destroyed, he woke days ago. No major injuries… Just…”
“Just…?”
“He’s holed up in his room, full of regret…”
It wasn’t hard to see why. As the new family head—even temporarily—of one of the Four Great Duke Families, he’d gone offline during a critical war. His little sister and aged father had fought in his place, and their father had died because of it, indirectly. How could he not blame himself?
Yet Wolf King Gallo had sworn to wipe out the Hill Family and could have killed Hesos easily. In the end, the man returned unscathed.
Had Gallo… not truly been able to bring himself to kill Sekarona’s descendant?
Sang realized he was overthinking. No point dwelling on the past.
As they talked, Snow Hill had more to say.
But then Thea Hill and Aisha Hodhua entered—the two little lolitas, one with Little Chicken Red in tow, the other carrying food and water.
The Pink-Haired Little Lolita, spotting Sang awake, lunged excitedly, making him yelp in pain.
“Hey, hey, stop! It hurts, hurts, hurts!”
Hearing that, she realized her mistake and backed off, huffing proudly. “Hmph! I’m not worried about you. I just don’t know how I’d explain to the True Ancestor if you died…”
Sang chuckled at her. He hadn’t even teased yet, and she was already defending herself—classic overcompensation.
Thea Hill greeted him warmly. Tougher than she looked, even after her father’s death, she curtsied. “Good afternoon, Mr. Sang… I’ve called Hufer. He’ll check you over soon.”
Sang nodded with a smile. “No need for the fuss. I’m just an outsider.”
“No, no… Mr. Sang, you’re human, yes, but your feats in the last war stunned everyone… You’ve done Wembuni—no, the whole Northern Region—a great service. You’re a hero.”
Her expression was dead serious—no joke, all sincerity.
Even without the war, saving Orcus alone made him a benefactor.
Though Orcus had left in the end…
Sang flushed at the praise, mumbling awkwardly, “Nah, I’m no hero. Just a half-baked knight who stumbled into it…”
After that, his raging hunger took over. No time for Thea’s flattery. He needed to eat. Unable to move, he let Aisha Hodhua feed him—his personal maid, after all. It was only natural.
In truth, Sang and Snow Hill’s conversation wasn’t over. Plenty left to discuss… but it would wait.
Soon after, the sisters left the room together.
Just before the door to the room swung shut, the ice-blue silhouette suddenly turned her head. A pair of ice-blue eyes fixed intently on the young man. After a brief silence, she said slowly, “Sang, thank you.”
As she spoke, a smile seemed to touch her lips, her beauty utterly captivating.
