"I mean..."

"Get lost!"

In an instant, an overwhelming chill swept through the air. A biting wind, laced with razor-sharp snowflakes, spread outward from Celicia at the center.

Those nearby were thrown off balance in a flash, some swaying and stumbling under the onslaught. As the icy wave surged forth, Bordo was frozen solid into a glistening ice sculpture. His previously frozen smile now hung in permanent disbelief on his face.

Struggling to find their footing, the group exchanged looks of sheer terror. No one spared another moment to think; they turned on their heels and fled.

Yet one among them returned. Glancing back, he awkwardly grinned at Celicia, then ran back to retrieve the ice-sculpted Bordo. Carrying the frozen figure in his arms, he quickly resumed his escape.

After all, a deal was a deal. He had promised the payment regardless of success—no one was getting out of paying!

Soon, the figures of the group disappeared from view.

Before long, the wan winter sun peeked timidly over the horizon. As the gusting winds and swirling snowflakes calmed, the forest’s perimeter returned to its tranquil and serene state.

In the soft morning sunlight, a blond man held a girl by the waist, their intimate pose resembling the perfect couple. From the back, it was the kind of scene bound to make onlookers first smile knowingly before grudgingly raising a middle finger at the sheer cloying sweetness.

But from the front view...

"How much longer are you going to keep your hand there?"

Celicia suddenly turned her head to glare at Moen, her gaze sharp and icy, as though each glance could pierce through him like a blade.

"W-Wait a minute."

Sensing the dangerous aura, Moen quickly released her and stepped back, waving his hands nervously while laughing awkwardly.

"I-It’s not that big a deal, is it? I mean, haven’t we already... uh... touched more than enough before? Compared to that, just holding your waist doesn’t really count. But if you feel like it's inappropriate—"

Moen straightened his posture, placing a hand dramatically on his chest as he declared with mock seriousness:

"I don’t mind you touching me back."

"..."

Celicia stared at him for a long moment. Then, her eyes narrowed slightly. She stepped toward him, her petite frame emanating a frosty air mixed with an overwhelmingly sweet fragrance. The weight of her presence instinctively made Moen bow his head, as though he’d shrunken beneath her intense aura.

"You’ve been feeling pretty smug lately, haven't you, Moen Campbell?"

"Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?"

"After what happened over the last few days, your reputation in the academy has almost completely reversed. Especially among the first-year girls—they actually think those stupid things you did before were either fabrications meant to tarnish your name, or were a self-inflicted act of preemptive discrediting to avoid being targeted. Either way, they refuse to believe you’re at fault for any of it."

"Ah... That's...that's too much. "

Moen rubbed his nose, suddenly feeling sheepish. It’s true he’d been an unabashed scoundrel in the past. While not all the rumors about him were false, ‘self-discrediting’ was... who the hell came up with such a wild stretch of logic?

"And thanks to certain individuals deliberately spreading your name around, you’ve climbed all the way to number two on Santa Maria College’s popularity chart. Congratulations."

"Second place?" Moen blinked in surprise. Then, curiosity got the better of him. "Who’s first?"

"Heh."

Celicia didn’t answer his question but continued speaking instead:

"Anyway, congratulations. You’ve finally shed thousands of negative impressions and become an outstanding, radiant duke's son in everyone’s eyes. Unlike before, now all you’d need to do to get a girl’s attention is crook your finger, and she’d probably come running. And this time, instead of ruining your reputation, they’d probably say you were just being charming."

Though she was congratulating him, Moen suddenly felt a chill creeping up his spine, a cold sweat breaking out as the words settled over him.

"Th-That’s nonsense!"

Moen straightened suddenly, glaring angrily as he retorted firmly:

"Celicia, don’t fall for those illusions! Do I look like the kind of scum who’s destined to be stabbed in the back someday? I’m totally... uh... pure when it comes to relationships—"

Before he could finish his sentence, a burst of freezing cold air slammed into his face.

The wind swept outward, carrying ice and snow like fireworks exploding in every direction. With terrifying force, Moen was flung skyward, spinning like a gymnast demonstrating a triple axel, then a quintuple, and even a twelvefold spin...

Finally, he crashed into a large snowdrift with a muffled thunk, embedding himself headfirst into the icy pile. Only his rear was left pointing skyward as he steadfastly "protested" the injustice of the universe in utter silence.

Fortunately, this blow was lighter than the last time. Moen wasn’t knocked completely unconscious.

But as soon as he started to wriggle and attempt pulling himself out of the snow, he felt the firm press of a small boot on his backside, forcefully shoving him deeper back into the drift.

"..."

"I’ve heard that you’ve got a new title that’s been going around the academy lately?"

"Title?"

Hearing that, Moen froze momentarily, caught off guard. Over the past few days, he’d been preoccupied and hadn’t been keeping up with the latest campus gossip. That he, of all people, had been given a title... What could it be? A faint nervousness crept into his voice as he asked:

"It’s not something like Blondie, is it?"

"Blondie? What are you even talking about?"

"Not Blondie?"

"Of course not. Although... it isn’t that far off."

Celicia withdrew her foot, her icy blue gaze glinting faintly as a ripple passed momentarily through their crystalline depths. She spoke softly:

"These days, people like to call you—‘The Golden-Haired Campbell.’"

"..."

Moen fell silent for a moment.

"That sounds... so pretentious."

"It is pretentious."

"I’d have preferred something like The Flash, or Quicksilver, or maybe The Folding Blade Avenger."

"What in the world are those? Are they from your pitiful daydreams?"

"...Still, ‘Golden-Haired Campbell’... doesn’t sound too bad."

Lifting his head from the snow, Moen squinted against the bright sunlight filtering through the flakes drifting lazily around him. The glittering scene blurred slightly in the warmth of the moment, drawing a small smile from his lips.

"Pretty decent."

"Is that so?"

Celicia tucked a lock of silver hair behind her ear, her expression unreadable. "Good. Looks like I won’t need to waste any extra effort restoring the campus atmosphere after all."

"I’m leaving."

"Huh? Leaving already? We haven’t even reached the gate yet."

"I don’t have time to waste on meaningless things like this."

Without another word, Celicia turned and walked away, not sparing him a glance.

Moen twisted his neck to watch her retreating figure, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Such a damn... tsundere—"

*Whoosh!*

A sharp sound tore through the air.

A long, crystalline ice blade shot toward him with frightful precision, narrowly grazing his cheek as it shot past him before embedding itself into a nearby tree trunk with a chilling screech.

Feeling the heart-stopping, murderous chill radiating clearly from the weapon, Moen’s face drained of color. His legs shook uncontrollably as he hollered toward her retreating figure in anguish:

"Damn in! Are you trying to kill your fiancé?!"

Celicia showed no reaction, her head held high as if she’d never even heard him.

Her silver-white hair danced lightly in the wind, and her silhouette gradually faded from sight.

And yet.

Just as Moen finally caught his breath and turned to leave in his own direction, her voice carried through the subtly stirring air. Though faint and cold, it had a warmth to it—like sunlight breaking through winter clouds—and it was a tone that tugged an involuntary smile onto his lips:

"Take care and not to get yourself killed, Moen Campbell."

"...That goes without saying."

Moen paused in his steps, blinking in surprise. Then, with a contented grin, he clasped his hands behind his head and strode confidently forward, stepping out from the forest into the open sunlit road ahead.

"The me right now is no longer the same as the me who had nothing to lose back then."

"So, of course, I’ll try harder to be alive."