Becoming Lady FrostyLily Dream’s toy, spending my whole life pleasing her… it sounds sweet as spiced wine, seductive as moonlight on ice. No, no! What am I thinking? I didn’t come to be a plaything. I came for the Ice Dream Lotus, to heal Hill’s wounds—like spring rain mending cracked earth.

With that resolve burning like a lantern, I met FrostyLily Dream’s gaze. “All right, I accept. I’ll clear the Nine Cold Labyrinth.”

“Nice eyes,” she said, like a cat watching fireflies. “Good. I’ll expect a little. Nine Cold Labyrinth—open.”

Her small hand left my chin; she tapped the air beside us, light as a snowflake, and—

Crack, boom!

Space shattered like thin ice, a door-sized rift yawning open, blue as deep ocean within.

“You can go whenever,” FrostyLily Dream said, voice cool as night wind. “Ready?”

“Yeah. But before that, I have a question.”

A rumor from Elyar flickered in my mind like a lantern in fog. “What level of experts is the Nine Cold Labyrinth built for?”

“No limit.”

“Huh?” My head tilted, confusion drifting like mist. “What do you mean?”

“Simple,” FrostyLily Dream said, words crisp as icicles. “The labyrinth scales to the challenger’s strength. If a Sacred Realm mage enters, the strongest guardian inside caps at Holy Peak. Got it?”

“Got it. Uh… I’ve got one more. Lady FrostyLily Dream, could you indulge my curiosity?”

I nodded, then looked up at her like a timid sparrow. My voice came out small.

“Speak fast. My patience is finite,” she snapped, like frost biting an autumn leaf.

“I wanted to ask—are you and Xiao Nuo really sisters?”

What kind of sister calls her own little sister a pervert? The thought snagged like a thorn; curiosity stirred like a restless stream.

“Uh…”

FrostyLily Dream fell silent, pink rising like dawn on her cheeks. She laughed, embarrassed, soft as drifting snow. “Well—if you force it, we’re not true sisters. I fell for Elder Sister at first sight, so I made her my sister by force. Sadly, Elder Sister never acknowledges me as her little sister. So tragic, right?”

Shy, fidgeting, face flushed—FrostyLily Dream was unbearably cute, like a kitten catching sunbeams. I crushed the urge to pull her into my arms, and let my gaze slide away like a brook under ice.

After a moment.

“Ahem. All right. You can go to the Nine Cold Labyrinth now, right?”

She’d recovered, but her glare pricked like sleet; probably because I’d seen that shy side she’d just exposed like a hidden petal.

“I’m going now! Farewell, Lady FrostyLily Dream!”

If I lingered, who knew what an embarrassed goddess of frost might do? I said my goodbye, then sprinted into the rift like a swallow diving through clouds.

“Honestly.”

Watching Yumigawa Sumeragi vanish into the crack, FrostyLily Dream let out a slow breath, mist curling like white chrysanthemum. She hadn’t expected someone to see her shy side—though it was her own slip.

“Forget it.” She shook her head, scattering thoughts like snow from pine boughs. Staring at the healing rift, she murmured, “The one my sister set her eyes on—let him reach the ninth floor.”

As the rift sealed, smooth as polished jade, FrostyLily Dream had already disappeared like moonlight behind clouds.

…

Nine Cold Labyrinth, First Floor.

I stood inside an ice mountain, cold biting like wolf fangs. The world around me was lifeless and hushed, yet unseen gazes prowled like hungry beasts circling in the dark.

“Uh… I forgot to ask about the clear condition.”

I scanned the barren white—nothing but ice and snow, silence deep as a frozen lake—and let out a wry breath.

“Eh?”

FrostyLily Dream’s voice rang in my head, cool as silver bells. “For Elder Sister’s sake, I’ll personally give you each floor’s requirements and hints. You’re on the Extreme Ice Mountain of Floor One. To clear it, reach the summit and defeat the guardian, the Snow Maiden—Mikaret. On the way, you’ll meet many Ice Wolves; with bad luck, even an Ice Wolf King. Handle it yourself. Hint: beware Mikaret’s eyes. Good luck.”

“Thank you.”

I didn’t know if she’d hear, but my gratitude drifted out like warm breath in winter.

“All right. Let’s go.”

I faced the path up the mountain, white stretching like a blank scroll. I gripped the Shattered Light Sword, and walked fast, no hesitation—even if the road ahead bristled with unseen thorns.

After half an hour, those gazes carved sharper, like knives under fur; the beasts felt near. After learning about the Ice Wolves, I kept my senses taut as a drawn bow.

Minutes later, I stopped, spirit flaring like a lantern. I swept my surroundings with mental power, calm as winter moonlight.

“Fifteen, huh?”

The scan said fifteen Ice Wolves lay in ambush around me, front and back, left and right—ready to spring like shadows breaking from ice.

“No choice. Strike first.” Their closeness was a blade I could grasp.

I set the Shattered Light Sword at my waist, charging fast. Golden Sword Aura gathered, thickening like dawn turning to sun, momentum soaring like a storm tide.

“Awooo—”

Sensing danger, the pack shed stealth and burst forth like a gray wave, fangs flashing like broken glass.

One, two, three… fourteen, fifteen. Good. All here. Now—attack.

I drew and slashed, sending an arcing Sword Aura sweeping outward like a crescent moon cutting ripples, surging to meet the wolves.

Awooo!

The result was inevitable. The rushing wolves had no time to dodge; the blade-light bit clean. Their cries cracked like ice, and they were all cut in half.

Yet instead of blood painting the snow like spilled wine, the bisected wolves froze into rigid statues, toppling with dull thuds like fallen pillars.

“Not real wolves?”

They must’ve been lifeless sculptures, animated by borrowed magic like puppets under frost. Was it the Ice Wolf King, or the Snow Maiden at the summit? Since the Snow Maiden guarded this floor, the latter felt more likely—like the highest peak casting the longest shadow.

“Well. Thinking won’t melt ice. Keep moving.”

The path to the summit stretched long; from here, it was nothing but white sky and white stone. I set my boots to the slope again, climbing through silence like a reed pushing through snow.

…

On Floor Nine of the Nine Cold Labyrinth, inside a palace of ice crystal that glittered like a frozen sunset, a girl watched a screen showing Yumigawa Sumeragi’s fight with the wolves.

“So he’s the Sword Wielder Teacher mentioned?” Her voice carried no warmth, clear as glass. “His Sword Aura isn’t weak. I hope the rest won’t disappoint—if he reaches Floor Nine at all.”

As those chill words fell, her frost-cool face showed the faintest spark of interest—like a single star appearing over winter plains.