Episode 18
Within a single day, the weather turned bitterly cold — a kind of chill Celine had never experienced before.
So when Natasha fussed over her and personally brought over armfuls of fur, Celine gratefully accepted the kindness.
“How did you manage to break that stubborn man’s will?”
“It took some effort,” Celine replied with a gentle smile.
Natasha clasped Celine’s right hand tightly in both of hers.
“Come back safe.”
“They’re just ordinary monsters. I can handle myself.”
“Still, if something were to happen to you, Leon would…”
Natasha caught herself mid-sentence and fell silent. Celine tilted her head, puzzled.
Of course, if she died, Leonhardt would be devastated — sleepless and tormented. But Natasha didn’t need to look as though she’d said something forbidden.
“You’re right, he wouldn’t sleep. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Natasha studied her face, then nodded slowly.
“You really are dependable. Here, take this.”
She opened a small pouch. Inside, a green mana stone glimmered softly against dark velvet.
“It’s fine. I still have the one you gave me before.”
“That was a gift. This one’s from the Grand Duke’s house — official support for your mission with Leon. Take it.”
Celine accepted the pouch without further protest.
Moments later, there was a knock at the door.
“El?”
“It’s me.”
A deep voice rumbled through the wood. Natasha frowned.
“Come in.”
Leonhardt appeared — cloaked head to toe in fur, just like Celine.
“Couldn’t wait even a minute, could you?”
He ignored his sister’s teasing, eyes fixed only on the woman before him.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
Celine nodded and naturally took the hand he extended.
“We’ll be off, then.”
“Be careful.”
Natasha’s farewell wasn’t encouragement — it was a warning.
The two descended the castle tower and departed immediately.
Since Celine hadn’t yet learned to ride, she and Leonhardt once again shared a single horse.
Trying to keep her posture straight despite the horse’s movement, Celine said,
“I really should learn to ride soon.”
Leonhardt’s disapproving tone came from above her head.
“Horses are unpredictable creatures. Too dangerous, if you ask me.”
Celine shook her head slightly. In the game, the protagonist could control a horse just fine — as long as she didn’t get too excited and gallop recklessly, she wouldn’t die.
But she couldn’t exactly tell Leonhardt that. So she said brightly,
“There’ll be an instructor and guards with me, right? Nothing to worry about. I’ll make sure not to be a burden.”
Leonhardt sighed.
“Fine. But when you do learn, call for me.”
“You’re too busy.”
“Not so busy that I can’t protect you.”
Celine wanted to tell him he worried too much, but she remembered the countless times he had watched her die and held her tongue.
“Understood?”
“Yes, I’ll definitely call you. Don’t worry.”
Only then did he relax slightly.
They rode for a little over half a day before arriving at a barren wasteland — nothing alive but thornbushes.
The ground was too uneven to proceed on horseback. Leonhardt dismounted, drew Lashir, and closed his eyes to focus.
The blade turned black.
“They’re close.”
Celine steadied herself and followed close behind. Leonhardt advanced, relying on his sword as if his very eyes were in the blade — not ridiculous, but grim and resolute.
“…Here.”
His voice came out hoarse and low.
A chill ran down Celine’s spine.
She had experienced this sensation twice before, but the foul, suffocating aura never became easier to bear.
“Are you afraid?”
His tone held no reproach — only concern.
“No. I was just thinking I should get used to this feeling.”
“Don’t. I’m not used to it either.”
“What?”
She blinked. Leonhardt — the man who had slain countless monsters — not used to it?
“Once you grow used to it, it means the monsters have started to corrupt you. So stay alert.”
“Understood.”
Oddly, the idea that she didn’t need to get used to it calmed her.
Then suddenly, the aura surged, pressing down on them.
Celine immediately summoned her mana, but Leonhardt placed a steadying hand on her back.
“Don’t unleash it all at once. Wait for my signal. When Lashir turns red — that’s your cue.”
“Got it.”
They waited as the monsters drew closer.
After a while—
“…!”
Celine’s legs trembled uncontrollably. Fear and disgust clawed at her chest.
The monsters weren’t approaching like beasts — they were crawling over one another, merging into a single, towering mass.
Leonhardt groaned.
“I knew something was off when they said there were three hordes…”
“Wh-what is that?”
“A colony.”
Lashir flared with blue light.
“When a mutated leader starts breeding, that’s what you get. Last time I saw one… three years ago.”
Questions flickered through Celine’s mind, but she focused on the task at hand — gathering mana until his signal came.
Then Leonhardt’s hand left her back. He leapt, sword raised high, straight toward the center of the colony.
Her eyes widened — he moved with deadly precision, Lashir’s arc shining like a comet’s trail as he sliced through the writhing mass.
Celine’s palms grew slick with cold sweat as she tracked him.
At last, a crimson flare burst from the spot he had pierced — the signal.
Celine unleashed the most destructive element she had.
Blue flames erupted, consuming the entire colony — even blotting out Leonhardt’s figure.
“Huff… huff…”
She clutched the last mana stone in her pouch. She had never used so many at once — her own mana and three top-grade stones. Yet the colony was only half destroyed. Leonhardt was still fighting deep within.
And now, it was turning toward her.
The mass moved faster than she could retreat.
When she had only half the mana in her final stone left, the colony was already upon her.
“Come out… come out, damn it!”
Sweat streamed from Leonhardt’s brow. He slashed madly, but couldn’t reach the core — the leader was spawning more young nonstop.
Three years ago, it had taken him a month in bed to recover from a colony fight. Half a year to regain his strength.
At least then, I knew what I was dealing with…
He realized grimly that without Celine’s support, he would already be buried alive under the swarm. A bitter smile crossed his face.
“Agh—!”
Pain like lightning shot through him. But with it came exultation. He’d found the core.
Leonhardt…
Celine burned away the monsters that reached for her, eyes locked on him.
Now she could see him clearly — still cutting through with the same speed, the same unwavering precision. His earlier cry had chilled her, but seeing him unshaken reassured her.
She gathered what mana remained, ready to strike the final blow, praying he wouldn’t be hurt.
Leonhardt slashed aside the last beasts barring his path.
Almost there.
A glowing, man-sized egg appeared before him. He drove Lashir straight into it.
Instantly, the colony broke apart — the monsters scattering in all directions.
Celine’s safe now.
He drove the sword deeper into the trembling egg. This was it — a duel between him and the leader.
—Crack!
The egg shattered.
Leonhardt’s eyes widened.
Amid the broken shell lay something human-shaped.
A newborn baby.
He hesitated only a fraction of a second — but that was enough.
The “baby” burst open, sprouting horns in every direction, swelling into a hideous maggot-like beast that lunged at him.
In that split second, Leonhardt knew — he was going to be gravely injured.
And if he fell, who would protect Celine?
But before the thought finished, a blinding flash engulfed him — Celine’s spell.
A surge of mana roared through him, and his consciousness went white.
When his senses returned, Lashir was already buried deep in the leader’s core — the monster slain.
And he was unhurt.
As the creature’s body sagged lifelessly, he turned — and saw her.
“Celine…!”
His voice came out a raw, animal scream.
Half a dozen broken horns were impaled through her body.
The realization hit him like death.
The mana he had felt earlier — that immense force — it had come from right beside him.
That’s why I wasn’t hurt.
—Clang!
Lashir fell from his hand.
He rushed to her, yanking out the horns, cradling her limp body. Her consciousness still barely clung to her flesh.
“Why… why!”
Her lips moved. Barely audible words brushed his ear.
“You’re… too handsome… it’d be a waste if you got scarred…”
The few minutes until her resurrection were the longest of Leonhardt’s life.
At last, Celine’s pale blue eyes fluttered open.
“Cel—”
“See? I’m more useful than I look.”
He couldn’t answer. No words could capture what he felt.
Celine swayed gently on horseback, wrapped snugly in Leonhardt’s cloak.
He had refused to leave until her phantom pain subsided, and by then the sun had already vanished behind the horizon.
“Aren’t you cold?”
He’d even given her his hat. She couldn’t see his face from her position — half in his arms — but he had to be freezing.
“Better me than you freezing to death.”
His reply was curt, but then he stiffened — startled by the sudden warmth seeping from her.
“What was that for?”
“I’m a mage, remember?” she said with a small smile.
“Doesn’t it tire you out? The mana—”
“You might as well ask if breathing is tiring. This much heat barely costs anything.”
“…Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She shrugged — and blinked as something cold brushed her lashes.
“Leonhardt, look! Snow!”
A single flake drifted down from the dark sky.
“The first snow,” he murmured.
Celine didn’t notice the quiet bitterness in his tone.
Back in that cursed mansion where she had died again and again, she’d once promised herself that when the first snow fell, she would at least choose a less painful way to die.
But now, she was wrapped in warmth, her body protected by magic — and more than anything…
Celine was no longer alone.
