I Have Become The Snow Maiden I Created

Translator: Marctempest

Editor/Proofreader: TempWane

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Chapter 53: Holy Night (2)

······A few days ago.

The garden of Grypheon’s ducal residence.

In that place, lush with neatly trimmed greenery and vibrant flowers, a man and a woman stood on the terrace.

It was Bulizé and the Crown Prince Artan, who had come at her invitation.

A gentle breeze swirled around the resting spot designed for taking in the natural scenery.

Bulizé asked Artan, who was seated before her.

“How are the lessons with my brother?”

“Flawless. As expected of the Sword Master.”

A response without hesitation.

It was no mere formality.

Bulizé took a sip of her tea with a fresh expression.

“Is that so? He won’t go easy on you.”

“That’s what I wanted.”

Just a casual exchange of pleasantries as childhood friends.

Artan thought today’s meeting would be no different from usual.

“Hmm.”

Bulizé’s green hair fluttered in the breeze as she gazed at the clear clouds.

The Crown Prince recalled the rumors he had been dwelling on recently.

─The black calamity that appeared was defeated by a mysterious saintess.

─A mysterious saintess?

─From what I heard, the saintess was a peerless beauty wearing an exotic outfit in shades of blue and white. Additionally, she had uniquely distinct hair…

The more he heard about the saintess’s features, the more one woman came to mind.

Quellière.

There was no one else it could be but her.

No, it couldn’t make sense if it wasn’t her.

Who else but that woman could vanquish such a calamity?

─It’s just a rumor, so don’t take it too seriously. Even I can’t tell what’s truth or falsehood.

Hiloze had said this sheepishly, but it was likely all true.

The incident itself was so implausible that, paradoxically, it inspired belief.

If it were nothing but baseless rumors, Agnatz wouldn’t have gone there in the first place.

“···Quellière.”

Artan narrowed his eyes slightly.

Given who she was, such an achievement might not seem surprising… yet he was still astonished.

Perhaps because he was merely human.

At the same time, concern bubbled up within him.

No matter how extraordinary she was, her opponent had been a calamity.

Could she have been hurt somehow?

“Who’s worrying about whom?”

If Quellière saw him like this, she might have clicked her tongue.

The words telling him to focus on strengthening himself still rang clear in his mind.

Even so, he was growing stronger.

If he honed himself further and utilized the improved Spirit Armor, he might, just might, break through the Snowfield.

“Artan.”

A clear voice jolted him from his thoughts.

Bulizé, who had turned her gaze on him at some point, spoke.

“About our marriage.”

“···What?”

He flinched slightly at the unwelcome topic.

It was a subject neither of them had felt the need to bring up before.

“I think it’s time we finalized the details.”

“······!”

“And paid a formal visit to Father.”

The blow struck him like a hammer.

It took all his superhuman patience to maintain his composure.

Why now, all of a sudden?

Even for her, it wasn’t something she would desire.

“Father… You used that term?”

“It’s not something I often say, but what can I do? If I can’t avoid it, I might as well face it.”

“······.”

By “Father,” she meant the Emperor, who was also Artan’s father.

It was unusual for her to use such a direct expression.

He gazed intently into Bulizé’s eyes.

Her pupils were sharp beyond measure.

What had happened, and what decision had she made?

He couldn’t know.

Even if he found out, it would be meaningless.

After taking a moment to organize his thoughts, Artan spoke hesitantly.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Alright. Think it through carefully.”

The conversation then came to an end.

Bulizé sipped her tea, and he raised his cup as well.

He stifled a sigh that had almost slipped out.

“···Hmm.”

Instead, he quelled the turbulence within himself and reflected on his inner thoughts.

What would be the right thing to do?

For himself, the empire, memories of the past, the present, the Crown Prince, the Emperor, Bulizé, the Grypheon duchy, and… one woman.

Strangely enough, his thoughts returned to the starting point.

─Don’t try to face me. I don’t have time to spare for you.

The chillingly cold words brushed against his heart.

She had always acted aloof, as if turning her back on the world, exuding a sarcastic air.

That, he understood.

If she were the Winter Goddess, it wouldn’t be strange if she had grown disillusioned with humans and the world.

But then why had she defeated the calamity?

If she despised humanity, there would have been no reason for her to do so.

“Time… There’s no time…”

No time, no time, she had said.

Could these words truly have come from an absolute being?

Come to think of it, her presence on the mortal plane and her expectation of someone as young as him was odd.

Moreover, there were the sinister black figures who had been pursuing her relentlessly for the past ten years.

Artan felt a tinge of anxiety.

It was as if some powerful current was fiercely swirling.

“Bulizé.”

With a subdued gaze, he finally opened his mouth.

The topic was obvious.

“The tea is fragrant.”

“Oh, is it? I’m glad. It’s a specialty from our territory.”

“Somehow, it was a product of the Grypheon Duchy.”

The idle chatter continued without pause.

Bulizé smiled lightly, while Artan remained stoic and stiff.

He removed his mask earlier than she did.

“You should introduce it to the capital.”

“We’ve just started distributing it.”

In truth, Artan had made considerable efforts.

He pondered what was right for the empire, but it wasn’t an easy question to answer.

When he had thought of Quellière as merely a mysterious woman, forgetting her seemed to benefit everyone.

That was why he hadn’t refused the engagement.

But was that still true now?

Even if he couldn’t stand by her side, was leaving her alone and disregarding her truly the right choice for himself, the empire, and the continent?

“······.”

Artan tried to contemplate the situation from a broader perspective.

Partway through, his gratitude from childhood and personal feelings entered the equation.

Currently, the continent was in turmoil.

The appearance of the calamity and Quellière might not be unrelated.

No, they were undoubtedly connected.

Cowering in such chaotic times was not like him.

He hadn’t worked tirelessly until now to hide.

“By the way, Bulizé.”

“Yes?”

“I have a favor to ask.”

“A favor?”

It was time to make a decision.

He confessed his intentions honestly.

“I’m planning to visit the Holy Kingdom.”

*

The cathedral’s Challenge Ritual yielded unprecedented results.

Though the rare event concluded with grandeur, for some reason, the believers were abuzz inside and out.

This was because the identity of the top challenger, who achieved the greatest results, remained unknown.

Clerics and priests searched the streets, and people murmured.

“Who exactly was that challenger? Is it true that light exploded like a burst of stars?”

“There’s even talk that Saintess Filena was deeply moved······.”

The rumors spread quickly, becoming fodder for gossip.

Even the Hall of Saints, a sanctuary of tranquility and reverence, was not immune.

Scattered snippets of the rumors reached my ears.

With my hood pulled low, I surveyed the interior of the hall.

“······You’ve done something incredible again.”

I ignored Nell’s muttering and continued my investigation.

This place was literally a repository of records about the saints of the past.

As such, it was lined with rows of archives.

“Are we really going to check everything here? My head already hurts.”

“Not everything. Just what seems relevant.”

“Relevant······ So, just the ones that sound familiar?”

Nell glared at the volumes with a look of annoyance. I nodded.

“Yes. Focus on how they fought and what their strengths were.”

“Got it. Leave it to me~.”

Even among saints, there were varying levels of ability.

Some might be less exceptional, and others might have no talent for combat whatsoever.

While such saints might have excelled in other areas, that wasn’t relevant for dealing with the dead.

“Suatoa······ His name already sounds like a warrior’s. His strength was hand-to-hand combat. Is he really a saint?”

“······.”

“Eor······ Wow, he fell in love with a goddess he saw by chance in a childhood myth. He couldn’t forget her and lived his life as a celibate before dying? That’s sad. He should’ve lived 300 more years.”

“···Hmm.”

Unexpectedly, Nell was taking this seriously.

Swallowing dryly, I rolled up my sleeves.

The first person I needed to look into was already decided.

“Let’s see······ Ah.”

Contrary to my tension, the name I sought appeared quickly.

Filena Trandiad.

I opened the document bearing her bold, majestic handwriting.

“The Saintess of Dawn······ She was very compassionate and devout, refusing wealth and devoting herself to acts of relief and purification······.”

I skimmed through the less important details.

“When a calamity descended upon the remote region of Perman 300 years ago, she volunteered to join the northern front. Tragically, she became a martyr in a battle against the calamity’s wolf-like servant······.”

She was a truly kind-hearted woman.

If it had been me, I would have just fled.

“Contrary to her title, her talents in divine power were not exceptional. To compensate, she created many talismans during her life, among which the Talisman of Dawn was her treasured masterpiece and a divine artifact in itself.”

I subtly placed a hand on my chest.

In the inner pocket rested Filena’s artifact.

This artifact could amplify immense “divine power” depending on the purity of the mana, but it was evaluated as lacking due to a fatal limitation.

To activate its effect, one needed to be in complete contact with the target.

“···It’s not ideal for me.”

While its low defense didn’t suit a Snow Maiden, it would suffice against dormant undead.

After reading for a while longer, I began examining records of other saints.

“Ugh······.”

At some point, Nell grew tired and began clutching her head in frustration.

When I glanced at her, she flinched and hastily buried her nose in a random book.

“Ah! ······Oh, I see. Haha.”

“······.”

Though the book was upside down, I chose not to point it out.

After sufficient study, we moved to the area near the hall’s central plaza.

There, statues of the saints and high priests were lined up.

“Each one looks expensive.”

“Indeed.”

“And they’re all so good-looking. Were these idealized?”

“I don’t know.”

The statues, each holding their respective weapons, exuded a stately grandeur.

While chatting idly with Nell, faint whispers reached our ears.

“Has that monster been captured?”

It was the hushed conversation of two clerics.

“Not yet. The Radiant Knights are said to be moving in secret······.”

“This is ridiculous. Where did that undead come from all of a sudden─”

“Ah, watch what you say.”

Realizing their mistake, their voices dropped further, becoming inaudible.

I narrowed my eyes slightly.

“···Already.”

The undead had appeared.

Could it really be true?

If they caused chaos before the sanctuary opened, they would only harm themselves.

I glanced out the window.

The sun was setting.

“Nell, let’s go outside.”

“What?! Really? Works for me. It felt stuffy in here anyway.”

With a jubilant Nell in tow, we stepped onto the main street.

The winter day was short, and soon darkness engulfed the sky.

I walked confidently into a shadowy alleyway.

“Undead.”

I had come to deal with them.

If the undead were already roaming freely, it was troubling even for me.

The vigilance of the Holy Kingdom needed to drop so that the Dark Cathedral would operate at full force, which was essential for my plan to succeed.

“···Fools.”

Failing to manage even a single undead.

This was surely not what they wanted either, likely a mistake on their part.

That I had to clean up their mess made me sigh.

“Haa······.”

Still, gaining early combat experience against the undead wasn’t a bad thing.

The undead preferred the night and had a certain ability to sense danger, so now was the ideal time for them to act.

Two women walking in a deserted area would be an enticing target.

─Aaaahhh!

“Yes, just like this······ huh?”

A piercing scream, as if someone’s throat was being ripped apart.

Our heads whipped around simultaneously.

My eyes widened.

In that direction was a ghoul—one type of undead—engulfed in flames, and a woman.

“···Lucia.”

It was, coincidentally, someone I knew well.

Lucia Uvelina had stayed out late, bustling around.

She was among those searching for the challenger who had vanished like a mirage.

More accurately, she had volunteered herself.

The feats Quellière had displayed lingered vividly in her mind.

“······!”

But her zeal was her undoing.

Her excessive pride was also a problem.

While continuing her search alone after dusk, a fiery monster attacked her.

Kieeeek─!

The ghoul’s appearance was filthy and grotesque.

Shuddering, Lucia quickly unleashed her divine power in response.

At first, she was confident.

Her training as a chief priest had honed her abilities considerably.

But this time, her opponent was formidable.

“Eek······!”

Had it been a regular undead, she would have subdued it with ease, but this was the wraith of Bringle, a member of the Seven Apostles.

Her strength was insufficient to counter the overwhelming resentment fueling it.

─────!

In the end, she was injured and fell, cornered.

For the first time in her life, she felt fear and let out a rough scream.

She knew it was futile.

“······Please.”

Her pride had driven away any potential allies.

She hadn’t anticipated this outcome, but the ghoul wouldn’t accept excuses.

As it prepared to spew fire from its filthy maw, Lucia shut her eyes tightly.

Then, a wall of ice rose before her.

Fwaaaah─!

The raging flames only managed to scorch the barrier slightly.

Blinking, Lucia quickly looked around. Her gaze landed on a woman.

“······!”

It was her.

The mysterious challenger who had moved Filena to tears.

Without a hint of fear, she strode forward, pressing the undead relentlessly.

Kiiiik─!

The ghoul, imbued with Bringle’s will, flailed wildly at the sight of Quellière.

A powerful creature with immense regenerative abilities.

Its fire, heightened by its undead state, was intense, given its mastery over flames in life.

Even without knowing its identity, Quellière smirked faintly.

“A pitiable creature consumed by flames.”

With her extreme affinity against it, she brimmed with vitality.

She summoned a blizzard, exhaled a cold breath, and actively used ice walls.

Boom, boom, boom─!

Adding the Winter Goddess’s power at just the right moments, the ghoul was utterly overwhelmed.

Even the minor support Nell provided wasn’t negligible.

“A vague existence, neither living nor dead.”

The ghoul’s leg froze solid under concentrated cold.

Quellière retrieved a talisman from her pocket and approached boldly.

As she infused mana, the talisman glowed brightly.

“I’ll grant you rest. Return to ashes.”

The purity of her mana exponentially amplified the talisman’s power.

Like banishing a jiangshi, she slapped the talisman onto the undead’s forehead.

Perfect contact.

A radiant light burst forth.

─────!

A wail of agony echoed across the heavens and earth.

The ghoul’s piercing cries of despair gradually subsided until a beam of light pierced through its body, cutting them off abruptly.

The ghoul disintegrated into mere dust, and a fierce wind swept through the surroundings.

In the process, my tightly drawn hood was blown back.

“···Ah.”

Immediately, my blue-white hair cascaded down.

The hair tie that had been loosely holding it together was gone without a trace.

Fluttering snowflakes and ice crystals adorned my hair like a dreamscape.

There was no room for denial anymore.

“You are······!”

Lucia gaped in astonishment, her mouth agape.

The saintess of the rumors—her unique features matched perfectly.

“The one who defeated the calamity······ That, that person······.”

“···Yes.”

Denying it was futile.

When Quellière acknowledged it nonchalantly, Lucia was overcome with reverence.

Only then did everything make sense.

The way she had effortlessly outpaced her, and how even ancient saintesses seemed to look up to her.

It had been foolish for someone like her to think she could measure up.

Lucia was a woman with strong self-awareness, but that applied only when her opponent was on equal footing or weaker.

When the difference was this overwhelming, even jealousy felt absurd.

“Lucia Uvelina.”

“Y-Yes!”

At Quellière’s cold and commanding voice, Lucia responded in a flash.

It was a voice one couldn’t help but follow.

“Keep this matter to yourself.”

“···Pardon?”

“Don’t report this to the Cathedral. You didn’t see the undead.”

A single undead wasn’t an issue significant enough to alert the Holy Kingdom.

If it remained unseen for long, the uproar would naturally subside.

“Understood! I won’t say a word.”

“Good.”

As Quellière turned to leave, feigning indifference, she abruptly stopped and returned.

“?”

“You almost died.”

A thought had occurred to her.

Looking down at the puzzled Lucia, she parted her lips.

“You need to repay your debt.”

“Ah······ Y-Yes, of course.”

“Go to the believers’ burial grounds.”

Before the sanctuary opened, she intended to return all the undead of the sainted to ashes.

They would likely be a key part of the undead uprising’s forces.

However, there wouldn’t be enough time to deal with the undead at the numerous burial sites prepared as reserves.

Unlike the sanctuary, the burial sites were too plentiful.

Having a pawn to act in her stead was a welcome option.

After Quellière’s brief explanation, Lucia stood dumbfounded, her mouth agape.

“Wait, you’re saying this is really happening?!”

“Yes.”

“How could···! H-How does the Saintess know this?!”

For Lucia, it was one shock after another.

To her, Quellière’s following words were nothing more than seeds of further speculation.

“Figure it out yourself.”

“That’s···!”

“And do not report this to the Cathedral either.”

Having said her piece, Quellière coolly turned and walked away for real this time.

Feeling anxious, Lucia hurriedly called out.

“Wait a moment! I’d like to know the Saintess’s name!”

“······.”

As her blue-white hair brushed her eyes, she frowned slightly.

Thinking how refreshing it was to feel the cool wind after so long, she answered softly.

“Quellière.”

Lucia etched the saintess’s name deeply into her heart.

At the same time, she began pondering the task she had been given.

“If everything she said is true······.”

······

After thinking for a while, Lucia stood and brushed off her skirt.

She glared at the eerie moonlight before leaving silently.

*

In the now deserted, pale alley,

A man who had been holding his breath rose to his feet.

The paladin removed his helmet and gazed at the moon.

“···Truly remarkable.”

The fiery ghoul had possessed power that rivaled even the greatest demonic beasts.

Yet she had dealt with it so effortlessly.

Her attitude of pity as she saved the unclean was befitting of a higher being.

“I must serve her even more fervently.”

It was a day that strengthened his resolve.

Dewade nodded in satisfaction and replayed the words he had overheard.

“The undead uprising······ Have they infiltrated this deeply?”

The shocking statement that the corpses in the sanctuaries and burial grounds had been replaced.

How she knew this was a mystery, but divine pronouncements were always profound.

He gripped his mace tightly.

“······Allow me to lend my strength.”

It was simple.

All he had to do was silence the undead lying in wait once again.

What would happen to the corpses in the process was uncertain, but surely the believers of the Holy Kingdom would understand.