Cold air flooded into Rein’s lungs, making her breathing slightly difficult. Each breath was a painful yet unavoidable ordeal. Barefoot, her feet sank into the icy snow. Within a minute, they were frozen bright red.

“This won’t work…”

She tore a strip of cloth from her hem, split it into two rough pieces, and wrapped them around her feet. It didn’t block the cold completely, but it eased the ache a little.

“Huff…”

Her breath turned to mist in the frigid air. Through the haze, she spotted Kolcha’s militiamen trudging toward the inner city with shabby, makeshift weapons. Something urgent must be happening.

“Excuse me—”

Rein reached to stop one, but he ignored her rudely, shoving past her hand and knocking her over. Her frail frame couldn’t resist the burly guard’s force. She crashed onto the snow.

“Ow, ow, ow…”

Her right arm struck a sharp rock. Excruciating pain shot through it. She lifted her arm slightly—a vivid red stain bloomed on the pristine snow.

Silent, she stared at the wound. No healing magic to rely on. Ignoring it wasn’t an option. Tear more cloth to bandage it? But the fabric was dirtier than it looked. Infection would set in fast. She could already picture her grim end.

“Hey, little sister, are you okay?”

A girl’s voice cut through the cold. Rein turned. Golden hair, like an autumn wheat field, caught the first post-storm sunlight. It glowed straight into her eyes.

Rein gaped, words slipping out: “An… angel.”

“Little sister, I’m no angel!” The girl shook her head, her golden locks rippling like waves. “Just a Holy Knight!”

Rein snapped back to reality. A Holy Knight from the Holy See—no friend to mages like her. She hadn’t seen such beauty in years, but mage instincts kicked in. She silently pushed herself up to leave.

“Hey! Wait, your arm’s bleeding!”

“N-nothing…”

She tried to pull away, but the girl’s grip held firm. Rein’s weakness was obvious. She vowed inwardly: *This time, I’ll train my body properly.*

The Holy Knight raised her other hand. Golden light pulsed from her palm—warm and comforting, like a winter hearth. It washed over Rein’s wound, spreading a motherly warmth through her core.

“So comfortable…” Rein sighed softly. From the corner of her eye, she spotted the girl’s luggage: a black coffin painted with a giant cross, topped with a sword-like mechanism.

Memories surged. *Vindictive Knights.* Trained under Holy Knight codes but unofficial agents of the Holy See. They handled dark tasks no one else would. That coffin? Their own burial gear—no one would claim their bodies. Most civilians, even mages, didn’t know they existed. They often posed as Holy Knights to win trust from believers of the Holy Light.

*Why’s one here? To kill me?* Rein couldn’t recall offending the Holy See. She’d been older back then. Better to stay away.

While the Holy Knight focused on healing, Rein wriggled free. She darted into the slum alleys.

“Huh? Why run?”

“What’s wrong, Sophia?” A Vindictive Knight approached, having just spoken with the deputy mayor.

“Nothing. I just wanted to help that kid’s wound…”

“How many times, Sophia! Don’t waste time on the poor! It’s bad for you!” he snapped. Sophia lowered her head, but shame didn’t touch her face.

***

“She won’t chase me, right?”

Rein found herself under the inner city walls. A small clearing held older kids playing in the snow. Their attention locked onto her. Mud streaked her face—from her fall, not by choice. To them, it sparked superiority.

*I should leave now…*

Hostile stares confirmed her mistake. The burly leader blocked her path. A stone thudded at her feet.

“Brat! This is my turf!”

“Sorry, I didn’t know. I’ll go!”

As she turned, a small stone smacked her head. Laughter erupted. More stones flew.

Rein crouched, shielding her head. Her fingers brushed her forehead—warm and wet.

*Bleeding again…*

She’d done nothing wrong. No reasoning with them. They needed a lesson. Time to test her power.

“Detection Spell…”

She whispered the incantation. When she looked up, the kids froze. The girl with pretty blue eyes now had demon-red irises.

In Rein’s vision, white ring-like threads of fate coiled around the children’s necks, arms, or waists—Nona’s “fate threads.” White meant infinitely malleable futures, common in kids. Sever them, and those futures would vanish. Survival would be all they had left.

“How can you bully her?!”

A child suddenly stepped in front of Rein. She blinked. The red faded from her eyes.