Choices and Mockery

The biting winds of the Northern Frontier whipped up snowflakes, lashing against the desolate ruins of the village. The broken walls and rubble, like the skeletons of a colossal beast, silently testified to the recent catastrophe. The air was thick with the stench of burnt flesh and blood.

The culprit behind this deathly silence is now sitting leisurely on a section of broken wall.

The Great Demons Solitär, with her signature Demons horns, long blue-green hair fluttering in the wind, a ruby pendant around her neck, and a pale yellow wrap-around dress beneath a pure white gown, wore a gentle, kind smile that starkly contrasted with the horrific scene around her. In her hand, she toyed with an ice crystal dagger, a drop of dark red blood slowly dripping from its tip, splashing onto the snow and blooming into a small, glaring flower.

Her gaze, filled with the pure, almost naive curiosity of an observer, fell upon a spot not far ahead.

Young knight Rustan was bound tightly by invisible magical ropes, kneeling in the snow. His cotton armor was torn, his wounds were crisscrossed, and his clothes were soaked with blood, spreading large patches of dark red beneath him.

His face was covered in blood, and his once bright and determined eyes were now bloodshot, staring intently at Solitär with boundless hatred, despair, and a stubbornness that refused to be extinguished. He was breathing heavily, each breath a hoarse, broken bellows-like sound, proving that he was still resisting until the very last moment.

"Hmm~ What a resolute gaze." Solitär tilted her head, her voice ethereal and melodious, yet like the forked tongue of a viper, licking at Rustan's nerves on the verge of collapse.

"He's just a country knight, yet he managed to hold out against me for so long and even managed to injure my lovely 'Ice Crystal Blade'... He deserves praise." She lightly brushed her fingertips across the short blade, and the drop of blood instantly Vaporize.

Rustan clenched his teeth, which rattled so loudly they seemed about to break. He wanted to curse and roar, but his chapped lips moved only a few times, producing only a hoarse sound. His physical strength and willpower were nearing their limits.

Solitär seemed pleased with his reaction. She stood up, her skirt brushing against the snow without leaving a trace. She walked to Rustan, knelt down to his eye level, and maintained that chilling smile.

"Then, let's play a game, little knight~" The voice was as soft as a lover's whisper, "A game about 'choices'."

"Look," Solitär gently patted Rustan's cheek with the side of her short blade, the cool touch sending a shiver down his spine, "Your mother, that poor yet great woman who raised you with such hardship... is currently being 'invited' by me to the largest barn at the east end of the village for a visit."

She paused, savoring the sudden tension in Rustan's body and the surge of terror in his eyes, before continuing in that nonchalant tone:

"And your lover... is named Rosaline, right? The beautiful girl you've been in love with for five years, and who's going to be your bride tomorrow... Well, she's praying in the church at the west end of the village, praying that you'll return safely? Hehe~"

Solitär stood up, took a step back, and spread her arms as if announcing an interesting rule:

"Well then, the rules of the game are simple. I'll give you a choice: you can save one of the people. But..."

She drew out the word, her pale green eyes sparkling with innocence and anticipation:

"If you choose to save your mother, then the moment you step into the barn, your beloved Rosaline will... pop die!"

"Conversely, if you choose to save your lover Rosaline, then your mother, who has worked hard all her life, will also die immediately."

"How was it? Interesting, wasn't it?" She tilted her head, her smile sweet. "Now, tell me your choice, little knight Rustan. To humans, is the debt of gratitude for raising you greater, or is the love between a man and a woman deeper? I look forward to your answer~"

Rustan's body trembled violently, not from the cold, but from extreme anger and despair. "Bastards! Demons! If you want to kill, kill me! Let them go!"

"Kill you? That's so boring." Solitär smiled. "Observing intelligent beings' choices in dire situations, especially choices involving core ethics, is the most valuable research material. Hurry up and choose, or you'll both be dead~" A trace of magic swirled around her fingertips, her urging obvious.

"You... you demon! You devil!" Rustan forced out a hoarse roar from his throat, his body trembling violently with extreme anger and despair.

His teeth were grinding together. His father had died young, and his mother had raised him with great difficulty, never having enjoyed a single day of peace. And Rosaline... that girl with long blonde hair, innocent and kind-hearted, had been in love with him for five years. Tomorrow, they were supposed to get married in the village chapel, promising to be together for life... How could this happen?!

Time seemed to freeze. The cold wind swirled snowflakes, stinging Rustan's face, biting him to the bone, but nothing compared to the chill in his heart. He thought of his mother sewing under the lamp, of Rosaline's radiant smile in the sunlight... The immense pain almost tore him apart.

Solitär watched with great interest the changing expressions on his face, as if she were watching a captivating drama.

Finally, Rustan abruptly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, his voice distorted with extreme pain, yet carrying a desperate resolve bordering on collapse. "I... I'll go save... save my mother!"

After saying that, he seemed to have all his strength drained away, and his whole body hunched over.

"Oh?" Solitär raised an eyebrow, a "I see" expression on her face. "Choosing your mother? How... a choice that aligns with human 'filial piety.' Very well, then, the game begins~"

As soon as she finished speaking, the magical ropes binding Rustan vanished instantly.

Rustan staggered to his feet, ignoring his still-bleeding wounds, and ran frantically towards the barn at the east end of the village, as if he had gone mad. Every step he took left deep and shallow footprints in the mud and blood, and blood kept gushing from his burst wounds, dripping onto the snow and leaving a broken trail of blood.

His breathing was rapid, like a broken bellows; his chest heaved violently; his emotions were extremely complex.

However, when he finally managed to make out the blurry outline of the barn with his last bit of strength, his steps suddenly slowed down, and he eventually froze on the spot.

At the entrance of the barn, a figure bound to a wooden stake by magical chains looked so familiar... That long golden hair, even in the dim light of the day, was still dazzling.

It's Rosaline!

Rustan's mind went blank with a "buzz". He stared in disbelief, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Solitär appeared silently behind him, her tone light and cheerful. "Ah~ Hehe~ Yes, I lied to you, I told you the opposite~ If you choose your mother, your mother will die. As for Rosaline... she knows very well that you... didn't choose her~ Now... how will you two react? Solitär so looking forward to it~"

Rustan was struck dumb, frozen in place, his face instantly turning deathly pale. He chose to save his mother, but indirectly sealed her fate? And Rosaline... knew he had abandoned her?

He trembled, inching closer to Rosaline. Her lips were sealed with a magical seal, but her emerald eyes were fixed on him, filled not with the expected resentment and tears, but with... a Burning rage and... urging?

With trembling hands, he untied the gag from her mouth.

"Smack!"

A crisp slap landed on Rustan's face, stinging with pain.

"What kind of behavior is this, Rustan!" Rosaline's voice was hoarse but resolute. "Raise your head! You are a knight! A knight whom I, Rosaline, have chosen! Don't put on that pathetic expression!"

Rustan froze, staring blankly at her.

"Fool! It's obvious you want to save your mother and then come back to die with me, your fiancée! What are you hesitating for at a time like this! Bastard! Idiot! How could I, Rosaline, doubt my own choice! How could I doubt you!"

Looking into her eyes, which seemed to see right through him, Rustan felt a surge of sorrow and overwhelming emotion. Yes, that was truly what he felt... He had never wanted to leave Rosaline...

He trembled, almost crawling on his hands and feet, to the wooden stake, clumsily and desperately trying to untie the magical chains with his wounded hands. Tears mixed with blood blurred his vision.

Rosaline's eyes softened for a moment at his disheveled state, but then sharpened again. She lowered her voice and urged, "Quick! Untie it! Let's go save her!"

"Oh dear~ what a touching display of trust... but it's no use~" Solitär's voice rang out again, "No need for you to make the trip~ I'll bring her to you myself~"

She waved her hand gently.

An invisible force carried a body from the other end of the village, and it landed lightly in front of Rustan and Rosaline.

It was a woman dressed in a simple coarse cloth dress, with half-white hair. She was Rustan's mother. However, her eyes were wide open, her pupils were unfocused, and there was a thin, bleeding wound on her neck.

"Just now, when you ran here and were talking to your little lover," Solitär said in a casual tone.

"I felt there was no need to keep those 'variables' around, so I dealt with them. Now, the variables are under better control~ Only the two of you are left. You lost your mother, your village was massacred, and you, Sir Knight, indirectly caused your mother's death through your choices... Now, how will you react? Will you break down in tears? Or... blame each other and ultimately suffer a mental breakdown? Ah~ I'm so looking forward to it~"

"You... you!" Rosaline cried out in anguish, her eyes wide with fury.

Rustan stared at his mother's corpse, his soul seemingly ripped from his body. He knelt stiffly in the snow, his mouth agape, but no sound came out; only tears streamed silently down his face.

"Bastard... bastard... get up! Rustan!" Rosaline was the first to break free from her grief, her eyes blazing with boundless hatred. She twisted her body violently, trying to break free of her restraints, and roared at him, "Get up! Kill her with me! Now! We need revenge!"

Rustan was startled awake by her roar. A glimmer of light refocused in his unfocused eyes—a final, desperate madness ignited within him. He let out a low, inhuman growl, struggling to his feet. "Ah... okay... I will... I will... uh!"

However, he hadn't finished speaking, and his actions had only just begun—

"Pfft!"

A longsword formed from solidified ice appeared behind him, piercing Rustan's chest with perfect precision, its blood-stained tip protruding from his back.

Rustan's body stiffened abruptly, his movements halting. He looked down in disbelief at the tip of the ice crystal sword emerging from his chest, then turned back with difficulty to look at Solitär still wore a smile behind him.

Solitär her head, her pale green eyes gleaming with excitement. "Ah~ This is getting more and more interesting. You... Rosaline, right~ Ah~ This seems to be anger... extreme anger... Continue... I love your expression right now... Make it more intense..."

The light in Rustan's eyes dimmed rapidly, blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, he opened his mouth as if to say something to Rosaline, but in the end he just collapsed forward helplessly, crashing heavily onto the cold snow, lying next to his mother's body, and fell silent.

"Rustan--!" Rosaline screamed in pain, her emerald pupils shrinking to pinpoints in an instant, as immense grief and hatred erupted within her like a volcano.

She stared intently at Solitär, her once beautiful eyes now filled only with a mad, resolute urge to destroy everything. Her body began to tremble uncontrollably, not from fear, but from some power being forcibly ignited and extracted from within her.

"Is that so..." Rosaline's voice became unusually calm, yet carried a chilling stillness. "You want to see... then let me show you... you monster who delights in manipulating people's hearts..."

She suddenly looked up at the gray sky, as if making a final accusation to the gods:

"What Goddess... I once believed that knowledge could bring a bright future... I once believed that kindness could bring justice to the world... But when I returned from my studies in the Royal Capital, all I saw... were ruins and the corpses of my loved ones! This world... has long been filled with distortion!"

Her body began to radiate an abnormally high temperature, and the surrounding snow rapidly Melt, Vaporize into white water vapor. Her long golden hair moved without wind, and the ends began to glow with a blazing, lava-like orange-red light.

"I once wanted to use all my knowledge to protect everything I cherished... everyone I loved... but now, they've all been trampled and destroyed by you, you monster!"

"Since this world... has no light left to speak of..."

"Since gentle prayers... only bring deeper despair..."

She opened her arms as if to embrace the raging flames of destruction, her voice suddenly rising in pitch, carrying a tearful declaration:

"Then—let this body turn to ashes! Let this soul burn like a raging fire!"

"I, Rosaline... hereby relinquish my former name!"

"Let this body bear the sins, let this fire burn away all evil!"

"I am—the 'Witch of Flames'!"

"Boom--!"

A raging inferno erupted from Rosaline's body! It was no ordinary flame, but a vengeful fire imbued with endless grief and unwavering resolve. The scorching heat instantly cleared away the surrounding snow, scorching the ground and distorting the air.

She forcefully broke the magical chains that bound her, transforming herself into a Burning torch, carrying a terrifying aura capable of incinerating everything, and charged towards Solitär!

Solitär's smile remained, but a clear gleam of excitement shone in her pale green eyes. "Oh? Burning life and soul? How interesting! Is this human 'willpower'? Although its essence is still an incomprehensible emotion, its manifestation... how dazzling! Ah~"

She raised her hand, and a honeycomb-shaped Defensive Magic instantly took shape. It was a Defensive Magic that was still under development among Human race and that few people knew how to use, capable of defending against "Killing Magic."

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The crimson-gold flames collided violently with the transparent magic barrier set up by Solitär, emitting a piercing shriek and an explosion! Rosaline, relying on the power gained by Burning her life, was able to engage in a fierce battle with Solitär for a time, the flames like a living, angry dragon, frantically tearing at the opponent's defenses.

However, the difference in strength was ultimately insurmountable. Solitär simply became more serious, and a deeper, darker light gathered at her fingertips.

"An interesting outburst, but nothing special. It seems that no matter how strong 'willpower' and 'anger' are, they can't overcome the chasm of power. After all, this is reality, not a fairy tale. 'Killing Magic'..."

A highly condensed black beam pierced through the raging flames and precisely struck the blurry humanoid figure at the heart of the fire.

The flames went out abruptly.

Rosaline's Burning figure plummeted from mid-air like a puppet with its strings cut, crashing heavily to the ground. The flames on her body quickly died down, revealing her charred and mangled torso. She glanced one last time at the corpses of Rustan and his mother not far away, the light in her eyes gradually fading.

"Rustan... I've come to keep you company..."

She fell beside Rustan, beside his mother's body. The three corpses lay together in a cruel way.

The flames were completely extinguished, leaving only scorched earth and rising steam carrying the smell of burnt food. The village returned to its deathly silence, with only the howling of the cold wind.

Solitär slowly walked to the three corpses, looked down at them, and once again a researcher's expression of satisfied curiosity appeared on her face.

"Ah~ the agonizing struggle of making a choice, the anger at the murder of one's partner, the despair upon learning the truth, and the final act of Burning everything in revenge... Human reactions are indeed much more interesting than what is recorded in books..." She gently licked her lips, as if savoring a delicious meal.

"Especially that final emotion, the intertwining of 'sacrifice' and 'destruction'... that burning passion... it's worth recording." Her fingertips gleamed, as if storing the data she had just observed.

The biting wind and snow were like countless cold blades, tearing away the last trace of warmth between heaven and earth. Lupa wrapped her heavy cloak tightly around herself, her peach-pink twin ponytails dancing wildly in the gale, the ends of which were already covered with tiny icicles.

She trudged through the knee-deep snow, each step incredibly difficult. Her heterochromatic eyes peered through the swirling snow curtain at Lowell, who was also silently making her way through the snowstorm beside her, her gaze filled with bewilderment.

"Master," she had to raise her voice to drown out the howling wind, "This blizzard is about to engulf the mountain path! Why don't we find a sheltered spot to camp and wait for the snow to subside a bit before continuing? Although you are powerful, it's... unnecessary, isn't it? Linié and I could treat it as training, but Frieren certainly wouldn't agree!"

Frieren was walking ahead, paused slightly, her emerald eyes looking back. Although she didn't speak, her slightly furrowed brows and the way she wrapped the blanket tighter clearly expressed her protest that "forcing a march in a blizzard is a foolish act."

Linié followed quietly at the back, like a silent shadow, her deep blue eyes reflecting the chaotic snow curtain.

Lowell stopped and raised his hand to brush away the frost that had formed between his brows; his black hair had long been streaked with white by the snow.

He didn't answer immediately, but his gaze pierced through the howling wind and snow before him, fixed on the distant mountain silhouettes swallowed by chaos, as if he saw something even more unsettling. His usual languor was gone, replaced by an unusual solemnity.

He sighed softly, his voice sounding faint and almost blown away by the howling wind and snow:

"Because... I saw the 'future'..."