By the time I came to my senses, I was already in a snowfield.
Words floating through my mind dredged up unfamiliar images in scattered fragments. Burning earth, the Great Sage, and poison. Through the gaps in my blurred vision, I caught a glimpse of a girl crying.
In her arms was Senior Delphine, her face deathly pale.
My vision was distorted by a wavering haze, and my black-haired childhood friend stood at its center. On her silver tachi, I could see bloodstains dried by the flames.
Everything after that was hazy.
No—where was I in the first place?
Little by little, the chill of the north wind against my skin became distinct. My wavering focus steadied amid breaths that froze white, and the cold seeping through the thick soles of my boots made my toes ache.
Blue moonlight soaked the pure-white snowfield like spilled water.
The stillness surrounding me left an unreal impression. The blood that had flowed across the ground had long since lost its warmth and frozen, while the corpses scattered here and there possessed not even the slightest trace of vitality, like exhausted laborers sleeping soundly.
It was a desolate place.
Almost too lacking to serve as a ballroom for a young woman.
And yet the sword dance was…