She wants to come next to me?
Why?
Is she cold? I thought—but no.
Before pitching the tent, I dug into the ground and buried ignition stones.
In this case, the ignition stones don’t emit flames but radiant heat—making them excellent warming devices. We can spend about a night comfortably warm.
Then did she get too much snow on her?
We ran into the tent as quickly as possible, so that seems unlikely.
It’s strange for Mille-feuille to be cold when I’m not.
Then why?
A field that appeared suddenly. And abnormal weather.
The howling storm outside.
A narrow tent.
This moment, just the two of us.
The tent is a bit large for two people—and that created a peculiar sense of distance.
I see.
Looking at Mille-feuille’s state, I nodded.
She’s trembling oddly, glancing at me.
In other words—
“Are you anxious?”
“Wh-what?”
I’m deeply moved.
In this anxious situation, Mille-feuille is trying to lean on me and rely on me.
Not running away—but a senior she can depend on.
Are you watching, hyung?
I’ve also become someone that others can consult with and rely on, just like you.
The local high school kids’ counselor.
The neighborhood guardian that even the delinquents won’t come to for cigarettes because they don’t want to cause trouble.
Now I think I can hold my head high and say I was your employee.
“Go ahead. Do as you please. If you’re anxious, you can come closer.”
“R-really!?”
Mille-feuille said that, then went *hah* and closed her mouth. She looked around, then quietly slid her body next to mine.
“Isn’t that too close?”
“No. I think this is just right!”
Our bodies didn’t touch.
But—our breaths did.
Right next to each other.
Close enough to feel human warmth.
I wondered if this was okay, but well—she said she’s anxious, so what can I do.
That aside, kids these days really are anxious a lot.
“I see. Has your anxiety eased a little now?”
“…Wh-what? No! I’m a bit more anxious, actually.”
“Is that so. Then you can stay like that a little longer.”
“Y-yess…”
Her pronunciation was remarkably clear and her voice had energy for someone in that state—but her face was oddly flushed and her body was trembling, so she must still be anxious.
Honestly, I feel a sense of responsibility. If I’d stopped her from coming in the first place, she wouldn’t have to feel anxious.
But as a senior in life, I should give proper advice when I advise.
—
What a steady person he is.
Mille-feuille suddenly thought that.
No—maybe he doesn’t even give me the chance to waver.
Maybe he doesn’t even see me as a member of the opposite sex.
If that were true, Mille-feuille felt like she could cry right now.
She’d be deeply hurt, return to the dormitory, bury her face in her pillow and sob loudly.
Then the next day, she’d go find Wolfram Senior again.
She’s severe.
Mille-feuille calmly and coolly evaluated her own feelings and mocked herself.
But this—this hurts so much.
If he doesn’t even see her as a member of the opposite sex…
“Mille-feuille.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
“It’s a joy that you rely on me as a senior. However—choose your methods.”
“M-methods?”
“Your parents, who sent you to this Zefflin, are expecting you to focus on your studies.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why you shouldn’t do things that could invite misunderstanding.”
“…Yess?”
“Leaning this close could easily lead to misunderstanding. Be careful from now on.”
“…”
Mille-feuille’s intellect is outstanding.
And with that intellect, she desperately assembled what Wolfram had just said to her—and then her eyes went wide.
“Leaning this close could invite misunderstanding.”
That means Senior has placed her as a subject of misunderstanding.
That means—he sees her as a member of the opposite sex!
“…Yes, Senior. I’ll be careful from now on.”
“Hmm.”
However—for Mille-feuille von Sabre, that misunderstanding was both joyful and worrying at the same time.
She didn’t want Senior to misunderstand her as someone who leans on just anyone like this.
So… Mille-feuille took several deep breaths, steeled her resolve, and spoke.
“Senior. I… honestly, I think I’m a failure student. I got here by luck. Being grade top student isn’t where I belong… I think that way.”
“I don’t think so—but it doesn’t seem like you need that kind of encouragement. Continue.”
“Because I’m a failure student. Because I’m clumsy. Because I’m slow… So I feel like the two of us could never meet for a lifetime.”
“…”
“…I think my first person in this lifetime has to be the one and only.”
Mille-feuille… caught her breath.
She’d said it all. What would happen if he noticed even a little? Would he reject her? He has a fiancée, after all. Or would he pretend not to notice? Or would he not even notice at all? Countless thoughts swirled, rose, and sank.
Then, Wolfram von Lohengrin’s mouth opened.
—
Mm-hmm. I see.
I quietly pondered Mille-feuille’s words and nodded.
They weren’t words to be taken lightly—and I felt like I’d said something unnecessary to Mille-feuille.
“Mille-feuille.”
“Y-yess!”
“…I’m sorry.”
“…Ah.”
Mille-feuille’s eyes cooled coldly.
That’s how much my words had been useless advice.
“You have a firm conviction. Your view on love is truly admirable. Then that’s enough.”
“No, I’m the one who dare… …Excuse me?”
“If you’ve already decided on a life philosophy for how you want to live, then my advice was worse than useless.”
“Heh?”
“Forgive me.”
“A-ah, no. That’s not—I mean, Senior? What I mean is…”
“Wasn’t it about your view on love? I think it’s a good mindset.”
“No… I mean…”
“I understand completely. Don’t worry.”
“…”
I nodded.
If you meet someone, you’ll live looking only at that one person for life.
A dream. An exaggeration. The immaturity of youth. You could dismiss it as all that—but I want to support her.
After all, isn’t that a pure white dream you can only hold before you’ve even met anyone?
Anyway—I gave useless advice to a child holding such a conviction.
As I nodded several times, Mille-feuille looked at me with even more hollow eyes than before, then looked at herself, and clenched and unclenched the “Cartridge-Type Battle Gauntlet Mk.2 Founder’s Edition” several times.
Why is she doing that? Is there a problem with the mechanism?
“I suppose it can’t be helped.”
With a deep sigh, Mille-feuille smiled as usual and leaned her body back.
Not toward me nor away—but leaning back, her gentle smile looked truly comfortable.
—
After that, we exchanged trivial chatter.
Just like usual.
For example…
“About the Cartridge-Type Battle Gauntlet Mk.2 Founder’s Edition—I’m planning to modify it.”
“You’re modifying the Cartridge-Type Chirpy Punch Mk.2 Founder’s Edition again?”
“Ayla suggested adding a ring from the wrist to the back of the hand, so that the remaining mana stones are fully consumed and the ring spins around—she named it the Explosive Chirpy Screw Punch…”
“…Wouldn’t it be dangerous if she falls? It would also strain her joints.”
“I see. I’ll scrap it. I should follow the actual user’s opinion. Mille-feuille, do you have any wishes?”
“I think it would be nice to have a balancing mechanism. I feel the same way.”
“…Hoh. Then I’ll look into preparing it.”
As we were chatting like that, a brief silence fell.
And in that moment, we both felt it simultaneously.
“…Ah.”
“It seems to have stopped.”
The silence that had settled in the tent spread outside, and soon we realized that the blizzard had ceased in the stillness of a world seemingly asleep.
“Is Ayla Senior and Patrasche okay?”
“They’ll be fine.”
Actually, even while talking with Mille-feuille, I was checking Ayla’s status window.
She wasn’t afflicted with any status ailments. She was probably just inside her tent.
Stepping outside, the snow had indeed only piled up lightly.
It was just map effects after all. Thank goodness.
“Ayla, are you there.”
“…Yes.”
“You look dissatisfied. Why?”
“Because I got trapped in the tent while making a snowman. It’s not rebellious…”
Turning my gaze from a sulking Ayla to the corner of the tent, there was Patrasche lying on his belly, snoring.
Right. It’s warm, so you’re getting sleepy too.
“The weather anomaly won’t happen again for a while, so feel free to play.”
“Really? As expected of Wolfram! There’s no one like you!”
At my words, Ayla got up, went outside the tent, and raised both hands.
“Rise up! Snowman of Rebellion!”
Then, from the ground, amethysts rose with a *kurugung*—gathering the surrounding snow and beginning to form a giant snowman.
Surpassing my height—twice, no, three times. A snowman so tall I couldn’t even guess how high it would go began to take shape.
“…Ayla Senior is truly amazing.”
“I think so too.”
“She’s always bright, and she draws everyone around her in. Not timid like me.”
“…Is that how you see her?”
“Yes. She’s a very cool person. I admire her.”
I watched the three-story-tall snowman that had begun to move—its joints even made of black crystal—as Ayla shouted “Snowman of Rebellion!” and nodded.
Certainly.
That Ayla is not the Act 3 boss Ayla Triasta I knew.
That aside—
“So that’s what you call cool…”
“Pardon? Ah… yes. She’s really cool.”
“Hmm. So the final stage of the Cartridge-Type Battle Punch is a giant robot?”
“…Senior?”
—
And so our chatter continued until late at night.
We used the campfire set to light a fire, ate, and sat in chairs to look at the stars.
Though it was a snowfield, Ayla’s black crystals blocked the wind, so it wasn’t that cold.
The time was about nine o’clock.
There was still a little time before Ayla fell asleep.
That’s why the chatter continued into the evening.
“I see. The Chirpy Punch Mk.2 has room for improvement.”
“Hmm. For reference, the Rolling Chirpy Punch modification was scrapped due to safety concerns. To install a ring outside the gauntlet and handle the rotation, you’d need a solid support base and joint reinforcement—but that doesn’t seem easy.”
“That’s a shame. How about a projectile instead? Like my black crystals—*poof!* and it launches.”
“…Hoh.”
“Can we change the subject, please…?”
A different subject?
Of course I have one.
A very interesting subject.
“Ayla. How many chairs did we set up?”
“Huh? Four.”
“Right. We’re three people—so why did we set up four?”
“For Patrasche, isn’t it?”
…
Well, if you put it that way, I’m at a loss for words.
“No. Patrasche is fine with thermal stones laid on the floor. And Patrasche has been sleeping in the tent since we took shelter from the blizzard, hasn’t he?”
“Aha. That’s true. We set up the chairs after the blizzard stopped. So why?”
“That’s because of a tradition passed down in this Snowfield of Bubbling Shadows.”
“Oh my. There’s a tradition here too?”
“Hmm. Our great ancestor hid so many traditions and secrets in this Zefflin. There are probably far more I haven’t grasped than I have.”
“So what kind of tradition is it?”
“This Snowfield of Bubbling Shadows is the dwelling place of snow and ice fairies.”
“Is it different from the Fairy Utopia where Patrasche was?”
“The center is different. The Fairy Utopia is centered around the Fairy Queen Elphirane. Since the fairies blessed by her form armies, the Fairy Queen’s land can move at her will—but here, a massive block of ice called Eternal Ice serves as the center, so it’s difficult to move. Even the first emperor is said to have struggled to relocate it.”
“Is that Eternal Ice really that impressive?”
“Of course.”
I said that, looking at the snowy mountain beyond the moonlit snowfield.
A massive perpetual snow. A mountain touching the sky, as if it might collapse toward me at any moment.
“Do you see that mountain?”
“Ah. Is the Eternal Ice on that mountain?”
“No. That mountain itself is the Eternal Ice.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Our great ancestor is said to have moved that Eternal Ice to the northern part of this artificial island Zefflin and planted it there.”
“…U-um.”
I don’t know how a human could do such a thing. It’s just lore, so I accept it—but since it’s become reality, that means it was possible, right?
And that means Eve—who could eventually grow to rival the first emperor—could also do that someday.
…
Let’s not think too deeply.
“Anyway, that’s an interesting story.”
“No. The story isn’t over yet. I haven’t told you why there are four chairs yet.”
“Ah, that’s right. Why?”
“Because this place is literally within reach of that Eternal Ice’s power—according to tradition, if you prepare an extra chair and talk about fairies, sometimes a fairy will visit.”
“…Really? That rumor.”
“No. It seems one actually came.”
See—Mille-feuille hasn’t been paying any attention to our conversation, just staring blankly at the empty chair.
As someone with mana sensitivity, she must have noticed quickly.
“S-Seniior…”
“Oh my…”
On the empty chair sat a girl—her entire body white, wearing a white dress, with long white hair—everything about her pure white.
About ten years old, the girl stared at us intently and smiled brightly.
**[Wow. You’re amazing! You know about us! Are your parents fairies?]**
…
I’ve heard this so many times—should I take this as a first-meeting parent insult or not?
“No.”
**[Really? Then are you a fairy?]**
“Not that either.”
**[I see!]**
With that, the fairy sat in the chair and lounged.
**[I’m hungry. Got anything to eat?]**
“Here.”
**[Wow! Thanks! Here, take this in return!]**
When I handed over a black bun filled with cream, the fairy placed a snowball on my hand.
Of course, it’s just snow gathered from all around—but when a fairy gives it, the meaning is different.
**[Item Appraisal Success]**
**[Snowball imbued with the Snow Fairy’s Blessing]**
**[8T]**
**[Can be used as crafting material. Can be consumed.】**
**[Additional effects are more likely to be attached.]**
“A decent gift. I’ll put it to good use.”
**[Hehe! Yeah!]**
Anyway—as a result, I was able to meet the “reason I came all the way here on this expedition.”
Lilia Snow.
A sub-quest NPC from the middle of the story.
A sub-quest NPC who showers you with snowfield material items just for giving her food.
Affinity run. Affinity work. Affinity farming fairy.
**[If you give me more food, I can give you even better stuff, you know?]**
“Eat.”
**[Wow! Thanks! I’d believe it if someone said your parents are fairies! Here’s a gift!]**
In other words—
She’s a sucker.
