After dinner, Yihan tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep.

His mind was heavy—not just with thoughts of the Crimson Flame Witch, but also with Carola’s words from earlier.

Though she’d politely dodged his questions, he could sense her concern. She was trying to protect him.

That very thought sent his mind spiraling.

Why would Carola care about him—a complete stranger? They were merely landlord and tenant. No real bond existed between them. Honestly, even if he died in the Crimson Flame Witch’s fire, it wouldn’t matter to Carola. At most, she’d just be a Witch Hunter who failed her duty. No one could blame her.

So why go this far?

For the first time, Yihan didn’t yearn for the dream world.

Thinking carefully, this power had never truly mattered. No matter how fascinating or real it felt, it was still just a dream. Everything would vanish upon waking.

Lia was undeniably cute. He could tell she was growing attached to him, developing special feelings. But what did it change? Even if sparks flew between them, it was all fake—unreal. A hollow fantasy that offered him nothing.

At the end of the day, reality was where he belonged. Right now, the Crimson Flame Witch threatened Windmill Town. It might burn like the others. Countless lives hung in the balance. Compared to that, whether Lia could save enough coin to leave her freezing town with him seemed trivial.

Besides… did he truly plan to take her away? To stretch this dream endlessly?

Wasn’t that just another way to escape reality? To drown in fantasy?

Drowsiness crept over him. Sigh. Even if he resisted the dream world, exhaustion would drag him under. Close his eyes, and he’d have no choice but to go.

…

Familiar cold rushed over him. Half-transparent snowflakes landed on his face, icy and crisp. Yihan felt himself falling. He focused—and saw emerald-green treetops swelling beneath him.

He crashed straight through thick branches, landing headfirst on the ground.

No pain came. Instead, a faint floral scent filled his nose. Softness cushioned his knees and palms, leaving him dazed.

“Huh? I’m… fine?” he muttered. Then he looked down—and nearly toppled over again.

A figure lay sprawled face-down in the snow, limbs splayed like a clumsy starfish. And Yihan? He sat squarely on her back, hands slightly pressed against her backside.

Worse, her face was buried deep in the snow. Anyone seeing this would think it murder.

Yihan paled. Even in dreams, these people felt alive. Had he just killed someone on arrival? This was bad.

Panicked, he scrambled off and reached to help her up. But before his fingers touched her, the “victim” flipped upright in a flash. A blade of ice pressed against Yihan’s throat.

The cold bit his skin. He swallowed hard, frozen still. One wrong word, and she’d slit his throat.

Hands raised slowly, he stammered, “I—I’m so sorry… Are you… okay?”

He finally saw her clearly. She was short—barely reaching his chin. A thick blue cloak and insulated trousers hid her shape. Her hood hung low, shadowing her face. Yet he glimpsed a silver mask covering all but full red lips and a porcelain jawline.

*Definitely a girl.* Yihan’s heart hammered. He’d not only crashed into her—he’d groped her.

*Bad move asking that.*

Thankfully, she didn’t dwell on it. Seeing his empty hands, she sheathed the dagger. Her voice was low, stiff: “Is there… a town nearby?”

“Soul Valley Town. Not far.” Yihan answered without thinking. *A traveler, probably.*

The hooded girl seemed to relax. Still curt, she ordered: “Lead me there.”

“Of course!” Yihan sprang up, eager to make amends.

He remembered the town’s location from his fall. As they walked, she stayed silent. His attempts at small talk were met with icy indifference.

“I really am sorry about before. It was beyond my control…” Another sincere apology. No reaction. Not even a nod.

“How about I guide you around town once we arrive?”

“Whatever.”

Relieved, Yihan pressed on: “Could I at least know your name? For… addressing you properly?”

“No.”

The blunt refusal choked him. “Fine! Then I won’t tell you mine either. You’ll just have to say ‘hey’ if you need me.”

*Carola*, newly graduated and on her first solo mission, glanced at him sideways. *Who cares about his name? I’ll forget it soon anyway.*

He still looked bewildered—probably didn’t even know how he’d fallen. *Asleep in a tree, maybe?*

Only Carola knew the truth: she’d been lost in these woods, exhausted, when she collapsed face-first into the snow. Then *he* plummeted onto her.

Her back still burned. And his hands… *Ugh.* She’d nearly snapped. But he knew the way. Swallowing her pride was worth reaching town.

Thanks to Yihan, they soon left the snow-blanketed forest. Soul Valley Town buzzed ahead, festive cheers carrying far across the wilds.

“What’s all this noise? It’s barely daytime,” Yihan muttered, rubbing his hands.

The silent traveler finally spoke: “Holy Night approaches. They’re preparing for tonight’s feast and performances.”

“Holy Night? What’s that?” Yihan marveled. His dream-world felt like a massive RPG—rich lore, complex characters, shifting landscapes, even its own holidays. *So immersive.*

Carola lifted her hood slightly, shooting him a puzzled look. *Who doesn’t know Holy Night? Some backwater hermit?*

“Originally a ritual festival. Now it’s for celebration and reunion.” She leaped off the hillside without warning.

For a Witch Hunter, an eight-meter drop was nothing. But Yihan—untrained and frantic—watched her stride away. He flailed, then squeezed his eyes shut and tumbled down the snowy slope.

*Thick snow. My dream. No injuries. What’s to fear?*

After crossing the wilds, they entered Soul Valley Town. Streets teemed with travelers and locals. Yihan spotted two orphan-like children selling matches on one block. *Lia…* He wondered if she’d sold more using his trick.

Carola moved like a shadow—hood up, cloak tight, scanning every corner for anomalies. Nothing unusual. These townsfolk clearly didn’t know a fire-wielder lurked nearby.

*Whether Sorceress or outsider… caution is key.*

Yihan trailed her, scanning for Lia. “What are you looking for?”

“Inn.” *Translation: You’re dismissed.*

“The proper lodgings are further in—”

A dusty figure darted in front of Carola. A sweet, girlish voice chimed: “Good day, ma’am! On this Holy Night, may I pray for your joy and safe—huh?”

Lia’s emerald eyes widened in disbelief. She stared at Yihan as if he’d materialized by magic. Pure joy lit her delicate face.

Before Carola could refuse—or Yihan could speak—Lia’s gaze snapped back to the hooded woman. Her brows furrowed.

*Who is she? Why is she with Yihan?*