Chapter 697: Frozen Trials 9

Celestine Laffele.

A young, beautiful girl who lived in a village in the northern part of the continent.

The village was large—larger than most would expect for a place buried beneath snow half the year.

Wooden houses stood strong against the wind, roofs thick with frost, chimneys constantly breathing out thin trails of smoke.

Life here wasn’t easy.

But the people were.

Tough. Rigid. Used to hardship.

And yet they smiled often.

Maybe because when you live in a place where the cold never truly leaves, warmth between people matters more.

“…Once again I’m living another’s life…”

Snow murmured under her breath.

She sat by the window of what was now her room, a neatly opened magic book resting on the desk in front of her.

One small hand supported her cheek as she stared outside, her expression distant.

The glass was slightly frosted at the corners, but she could see clearly enough.

Children about her age were playing in the snow.

Laughing.

Running.

“Hey! Don’t just throw at me!”

“Bleeh! You’re the monster right now, so you need to be defeated!”

“That’s unfair! Weren’t you supposed to be a knight?!”

A thin young boy stood in the middle of the yard, trying to shield himself.

He was smaller than the others.

Not by much—but enough to stand out.

“Haha! I’m a mage now, so take this, Demon King!”

“Me too—hah!”

Snowballs flew through the air in rapid succession.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

They all hit the same boy.

He stumbled back, face red—not from the cold.

From embarrassment.

Snow watched quietly.

It was obvious.

This wasn’t just a game.

It was bullying.

“Children…” she muttered with a faint sigh.

Exasperated.

She glanced back at the magic book resting on her desk.

The edges of the pages were worn thin from constant use.

A few corners were bent.

The ink on certain diagrams had faded slightly from how often she traced them with her fingers.

She had read this same book so many times she could practically recite it from memory.

But that wasn’t surprising.

It was a standard introductory magic text.

The kind given to children learning how to circulate mana, control output, shape elemental flow.

Even back in the imperial palace, this exact structure—basic theory, mana channels, elemental affinity—was common knowledge.

There was nothing special about it.

Which was exactly why it bothered her.

It had been three months since she began living as Celestine.

Three full months inside this life.

And she had learned a few important things.

First—this trial felt real.

Just like the second one, the setting wasn’t some abstract illusion.

This was the real world.

r at least a point in its timeline.

She didn’t pay much attention to the northern territories in her original life, but even as a princess she knew villages like this existed.

Remote, harsh and often forgotten.

The frozen north was vast.

And cruel.

Second—she could use magic freely here.

More freely than she expected.

She lifted her small hand slightly, feeling the mana circulating within her veins.

Smooth.

Responsive. Almost eager.

Although this body wasn’t as overwhelmingly powerful as her original one, its affinity for ice magic was… unnatural.

It wasn’t just talent.

It was instinct.

The way mana responded to her thoughts, the way cold gathered at her fingertips without resistance—it was frighteningly similar to her own childhood, except…

Better.

Cleaner.

More refined.

It unsettled her.

Was this what she could’ve become if things had been different?

Or was this simply the Frost Queen’s influence?

Third—

She closed the book slowly.

The villagers hated them.

Her.

And her mother.

For reasons so shallow they almost felt laughable.

They were too beautiful.

Too composed.

Too powerful.

Too different.

Whispers followed them in the marketplace.

Conversations stopped when they walked by.

Children were subtly warned not to get too close.

“I guess for normal people… me and my mom are quite the monsters.”

She rested her chin on her palm again, gazing out the window at the snow-covered streets.

“I wonder if this is how common folk view most nobility and royalty…”

She doubted Celestine and her mother were nobles. There was no estate. No servants. No visible status.

But beauty and power alone were enough to create distance.

Enough to create fear.

And fear, when left alone long enough—

Turned into hatred.

Outside, the thin boy had finally managed to escape the group.

He brushed snow off his clothes quietly while the others moved on to another game as if nothing happened.

Snow’s eyes lingered on him for a moment.

“I guess… the strong and the weak aren’t that different after all…”

Snow murmured quietly.

Whether powerful or powerless, people always did the same thing.

They isolated what they didn’t understand.

They feared what felt different.

And fear was easier to turn into cruelty than acceptance.

Outside, the children gradually returned to their noisy game.

Laughter.

Bickering.

Snow crunching beneath their boots.

Then suddenly—

They stopped.

“H-Hey… look!”

“It’s the witch.”

“We got too close to her house…”

“My mom’s going to scold me for this.”

“I think we should go.”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Their earlier bravado vanished almost instantly.

They began stepping backward, avoiding eye contact with the woman approaching from behind them.

Snow followed their gaze.

A woman was walking slowly along the snow-covered path toward the house just behind where the children stood.

Celestine’s house.

Her mother.

From this distance, there was nothing terrifying about her.

She moved calmly, her long coat brushing against the white ground.

But there was something subtle about the way she walked.

It almost looked like she wasn’t stepping on the snow.

More like she was gliding over it.

The snow didn’t crunch beneath her feet.

It didn’t sink.

The cold seemed to part for her.

To children, that alone was enough to spark fear.

The group began edging away, small hands trembling slightly.

All except one.

“Hah! What are you lot afraid of? She’s just one sickly witch!”

The loud voice broke the tension.

Snow recognized him immediately.

Erik.

The same boy who had been throwing the biggest snowballs at the thin kid earlier.

“Shh! What are you doing, Erik? She’ll hear you!” another child whispered urgently.

Erik scoffed.

“You guys are total cowards. My dad said a man shouldn’t be afraid of some witch if he wants to grow strong. And I doubt she’s even a witch! She’s just sick or something. That’s what my mom said!”

“But even still, she could be dangerous—”

“Tsk! Tsk!” Erik waved them off. “Watch this. I’ll show you she’s no match for me. A future knight isn’t scared of anyone!”

Snow felt her fingers tighten slightly against the window frame.

Bravado.

Ignorance.

The most dangerous mix.

Erik bent down quickly, scooping up a large handful of snow.

He packed it tightly, making it harder than the others had earlier.

Then, without hesitation—

He hurled it straight at the woman.

The snowball cut through the air.

For a brief second, everything felt quiet.

Too quiet.

The other children gasped.

Snow’s eyes sharpened.

The snowball flew toward her mother’s face—

But.

The Snowball didn’t even get a meter close to her.

As it suddenly dissolved into white mist.

“W-What?”

Erik shocked was wide eyes and so were the other children.

As the woman turned to look at them.

They all trembled in fear looking at her pale eyes.

“R-RUN!!!”

One kid shouted.

“She’s a witch!”

The snowball never reached her.

A thin layer of frost formed in front of the woman’s face without her even raising a hand.

The snow shattered softly against it, breaking apart into harmless powder before falling to the ground.

The children froze.

For half a second, none of them breathed.

Then—

They ran.

All of them.

Including Erik.

The “future knight” didn’t look back once as he sprinted after the others, boots slipping against the snow in his panic.

The woman merely tilted her head slightly, confused at the sudden commotion.

“…?”

She watched six small figures disappear down the path.

After a moment, she simply shook her head lightly and continued walking.

“I’m back,” she called gently as she stepped into the house.

“Welcome back, Mother!”

Celestine—Snow—was already waiting near the entrance.

Her small voice sounded bright. Warm.

Her mother smiled instantly at the sight of her.

“Fufu, sorry for taking so long, Celestine. The market has become quite empty lately.”

Snow knew what that meant.

Empty shelves weren’t the issue.

It was the people.

The whispers.

The deliberate delays.

The way vendors would serve others first.

Her mother probably stayed longer than necessary just to avoid creating more tension.

But Snow didn’t point it out.

“I see. It’s fine, Mother. I managed to study more because of it.”

Her mother chuckled softly as she set down the basket she was carrying.

“Is that so? How diligent of you. Then I assume you finished the book now?”

“Yes.”

“Very good!”

She stepped forward and gently patted Celestine’s head.

The touch was warm.

“Hehe~” Snow let out a small sound in response.

Then her gaze shifted slightly.

“By the way, Mother… I saw a bunch of children playing outside. Uhm… did they do anything, perhaps?”

Her mother paused for a second.

Then she laughed lightly.

Snow noticed it.

That subtle, deliberate softness in her tone.

“Oh, them? Yes, I saw them run off as well. But they didn’t really do anything.”

Snow’s eyes darkened just a fraction.

Not enough for most people to notice.

But enough.

“I see… Uhm… do you perhaps know them?”

Her voice was steady.

Too steady for a child.

Her mother tilted her head slightly, amused.

It always felt strange when Celestine spoke like that. Calm. Observant. Almost like a tiny adult instead of a child her age.

But she didn’t question it.

“No, not exactly,” her mother replied. “I’m sure they’re from a few houses away. Our neighbors, technically.”

She smiled faintly.

“Well… if you can still call them neighbors at that distance, haha.”

“I see…”

Snow lowered her gaze slightly.

So they were nearby.

Her mother moved toward the small kitchen area, humming softly as she began unpacking what little she had bought.

“…They didn’t do anything,” Snow repeated softly to herself.

Her small fingers curled slightly at her sides.

Her mother paused mid-step and turned slightly.

Celestine had followed her quietly into the kitchen area, standing just a little too close, watching just a little too carefully.

It wasn’t like her to ask about other children.

Celestine rarely showed interest in playing. She never complained. Never asked to go outside. Never mentioned feeling lonely.

So why now?

Then it clicked.

“Celestine…” her mother’s voice softened. “Mother is sorry…”

“Hn?” Snow blinked up at her. “Why are you apologizing?”

Her mother knelt down slightly so their eyes were level.

“You want to make some friends, don’t you?”

Snow stiffened for half a second.

“I know… Mother’s wishes have become a bit burdensome lately,” the woman continued gently. “But I promise, when the time comes, everything will make sense. Just a few more books. A little more magic training. Then it will all be worth it.”

Her hand rested softly on Celestine’s small shoulder.

“I promise.”

Snow stared at her.

So that’s what she thinks…

The isolation.

The strict studying.

The refusal to let her wander too far.

It wasn’t just protection.

It was preparation.

“Hm?” Snow tilted her head slightly, then smiled brightly. “I don’t really care about friends, Mother. As long as you’re here, everything’s fine!”

She said it naturally.

Almost too naturally.

Her mother trembled slightly at those words.

Not visibly to a stranger.

But Snow felt it.

For just a second, her mother’s hand tightened on her shoulder.

Then came the smile.

Warm.

Proud.

But hiding something deeper.

Despite the loneliness she had likely forced upon her daughter…

Despite knowing Celestine barely stepped outside and had no one her age to talk to…

She had been blessed with a child who didn’t complain.

Who didn’t demand.

Who didn’t blame.

And soon—

She would burden this same child with something far heavier than loneliness.

Something Celestine had never asked for.

Regret flashed briefly in her eyes.

Sharp. Painful.

But it was gone just as quickly.

She swallowed it.

Locked it away.

“I see,” she said softly. “What a good girl I have~”

She patted Celestine’s head once more, fingers lingering just a little longer this time.

Snow looked up at her quietly.

And in that moment, she saw it.

A quiet resolve settling deep within her mother’s gaze.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep