“The Frozen Festival should kick off today!” Ou Tao mused, stroking his chin.
This world held events—days weren’t all the same. Weather shifted battlefields, and during festivals, even stranger Heavenly Principle phenomena would manifest.
The Frozen Festival was a local holiday, much like Christmas in the West. It lasted two days, triggered on the last day of Winter Month each year, beginning at a random, unpredictable moment.
“Wait—when *is* the last day of Winter Month?” Ou Tao wondered.
“Sir, this world’s calendar mirrors medieval Francia. The final day of Winter Month falls around December 21st,” Bika replied.
“If this weather blesses everyone equally… why does wealth disparity still exist?”
“Sir, major adventurer guilds and capital nobles command greater armed forces. Under identical conditions, they seize heaven-sent resources.”
“The common folk? A lucky break might come once every few years. But even sudden riches often end in murder and robbery—simply for possessing something valuable.”
“Bika, message my little sister: Big Brother’s working overtime tonight. Won’t be back.”
“Sir, Kafuu Aoi has already headed to the main world server with Su Lianxue. They left you a note—they won’t return tonight either. Preparing for tomorrow’s Christmas Eve party.”
“Then let’s wrap up fast. Can’t miss Mom’s turkey!” Ou Tao turned, rapier drawn. Yami materialized, snatching a torch to light the path. “Ke Er, stay close!”
Each year, the Frozen Festival began without warning—as if celebrating, its theme shifted: manhunts, defense missions, or treasures raining from the sky. Like a mysterious gift waiting to be unwrapped. That familiar weight pressed deeper on Ou Tao’s heart—the feeling of being toyed with by unseen hands.
Ou Tao stepped forward, rapier ready. Ke Er trailed cautiously behind.
Truthfully, he hadn’t wanted to bring her. But what if this Heavenly Principle event turned deadly? What if ghosts roamed, hunting innocent little girls? Separated, Ke Er would be vulnerable.
After minutes of exploration, a snowman appeared in the forest—peculiar: black pebble eyes, carrot nose, a half-black, half-white scarf.
Just like the chest Ou Tao once opened, all Heavenly Principle-touched entities bore a golden icon in their status panel—a mark of divine guidance.
Ou Tao swiped his finger.
Name: Festival Snowman
Age: Three minutes
Occupation: Snowman (Lv. 0)
Life Essence: 1/1
Magic Essence: 0/0
Stamina Essence: 100/100
Armor: 0/0
Attributes:
Strength: 0
Intelligence: 0
Resistance: 0
*What does this mean?* Ou Tao pondered. No attack, no defense, average stamina, only one Life Essence point—protect it? Collect it? Attack it?
He tossed a white rapier. A green goblin materialized above it, cackling wildly as it raised its curved blade.
Standard tactic. Sword spirits were wandering souls—undying. Injuries drained weapon durability. Zero durability meant broken gear, needing repair.
Perfect for fearless tasks. But Yami couldn’t risk it. *Ami’s Persecution* was legendary-grade. Damage required Lisang black steel—two hundred gold coins to restore from zero.
This goblin’s white-grade weapon? Fifty copper coins to fix. Ou Tao nicknamed them “fifty-copper buddies.”
Tank skills. Trigger traps. Face-check bushes. Absorb suicidal attacks. Less kindly: disposable cannon fodder.
The “fifty-copper buddy” scratched its head, confused. Puffed its chest. Struck a valiant pose.
“Gagaga! (Goblin tongue: Swordmaster, what would you have me do?)”
Ou Tao, understanding, replied, “Do as you please. Snowman ahead—handle it however you like.”
The goblin sucked in air, lunged, and slashed. Golden sparks flickered—faint—but from the snowman’s belly burst a pile of… candies!
After a quick check, the goblin carried them back. Ou Tao confirmed: ordinary candies. Nothing special.
But Ke Er lit up. Clutching them like treasure, she knelt counting carefully, little face flushed slightly, mouth agape. “Wow! Candies! A candy pack! Father… it’s… it’s amazing!”
Unbeknownst to her, another snowman—scarf black as night—stepped silently from the shadows behind her.
