I Have Become The Snow Maiden I Created

Translator: Marctempest

Editor/Proofreader: TempWane

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Chapter 13: The Journey to the Empire

Everyone’s gaze instantly fixated on me.

“…Uh, yes. Joining… Oh, joining. Yes, understood!”

Anasha, who had been staring blankly at me for a moment, hastily regained her smile and nodded.

Feigning composure, I signaled with my eyes and discreetly slipped away.

…What’s with these reactions?

Was my appearance such a mood killer that it turned the atmosphere icy?

Sure, I might come off as a little curt, but it’s unfair to humiliate me like this.

It’s not like I wanted to possess this body either.

Or is there something I missed?

Having spent over a year at the Snow Castle, my already limited social skills might have completely eroded.

I was a little annoyed and considered canceling the plan altogether, but I figured similar situations would repeat once I got to the Empire anyway.

In that case, wouldn’t it be better to gain some experience now?

“…Where are you from? Have we met before?”

“If I’d seen such a beauty even once, there’s no way I wouldn’t recognize her…”

I could clearly see the side glances and hushed conversations directed at me. Uninterested in their chatter, I chose to isolate myself.

Perhaps my irritation was evident, as those who met my eyes flinched and quickly looked away.

“Is there anyone else who wishes to join? If not, please wrap up your preparations. Those participating today, hurry and pack your belongings. We’ll depart soon.”

Anasha scanned the surroundings, drawing attention again.

The citizens, who had been murmuring among themselves, resumed their serious discussions.

Once I’d resolved to leave the city, there was no benefit in hesitating.

The Serpent God could appear again at any moment, and my family wouldn’t be particularly welcoming either.

The refugees, having little attachment to the city, had minimal belongings to pack.

Given the number of people, riding horses or pulling carts didn’t seem feasible. Adjusting the pace for everyone would make it pointless and costly.

Of course, this arrangement suited me just fine.

I didn’t know how to ride a horse, and riding in a carriage would mean being stuck with strangers the whole way.

“I’ll join too. I suppose I’ll be the last addition.”

That calm voice belonged to Sigila.

Apparently, she was interested enough to express her intent to join.

After that, there were no further requests, and the roster was finalized.

*

A few hours later, the group of refugees set out for the Empire.

—And someone was quietly watching them.

The watchers planted throughout the city by Lysithea.

As rulers, it wasn’t unusual for them to ensure they had eyes and ears everywhere. This wasn’t unique to Krase.

Near the relay station, a spy disguised as a citizen promptly reported to his master after the procession left.

“They should’ve stayed quietly… Instead, they’re causing unnecessary trouble.”

Andak Vion, the patriarch of the Vion family, whose bloated belly betrayed his slovenly nature, muttered with disdain.

Gone was the pretense he had displayed while orchestrating that ridiculous play with the Serpent God in the streets. He now embodied a corrupt leader in every way.

“Tsk… We should’ve dealt with that woman first.”

The thin, wiry frame of Vidor Griant spoke next. His appearance was a stark contrast to Andak’s, but regrettably, their personalities were much the same.

The two had isolated themselves to discuss their response after receiving the report. The topic: Anasha Sheryl and her group.

The key issue: how to handle them.

“Even though we’ve prioritized sacrificing those with weak ties to the city, who would’ve thought one rat could move this fast?”

Anasha had settled in the city for several years, and as such, she was further down the list and largely overlooked. Who could have predicted she’d ignite such a fire?

The two patriarchs felt the sting of betrayal.

“Do you think this statement—‘formally propose the subjugation of the Serpent God’—has any credibility?”

“Logically, there’s no way. What ties does our Yulistia have with the Empire, after all?”

But their true thoughts were different.

Even if it was unlikely, the possibility wasn’t zero. The mere thought of it unsettled them.

The unpredictable nature of Anasha’s standing within the Empire added to their unease.

“She must be an insignificant figure. Otherwise, why would she have crawled into this city?”

At Andak’s remark, Vidor hesitated.

“Still, wasn’t she said to be a servant of the Grypheon family? She might have connections to lean on if it comes to that.”

The Grypheon Ducal House.

A prestigious family renowned throughout the Empire for their exalted status.

Their influence far surpassed that of any city-state family. Even if things went awry, they weren’t an opponent to be trifled with.

If the legendary Swordmaster of the Grypheon family appeared, it would spell the end.

To cleanly resolve this, Anasha—or rather, the entire group—had to be eliminated before they reached the Empire.

The problem was how.

“…Sending soldiers would be foolish. If things go wrong, the backlash will be severe.”

Even if they disguised the soldiers, there were countless ways for their identities to be revealed through torture or interrogation.

Moreover, soldiers served as their shield and sword against threats, such as the “Hidden Blade of Krase.”

“What about mercenaries? They’re discreet as long as you pay them enough.”

“Conversely, it means they’re just as vulnerable to a higher bid. Do you think the Empire or Grypheon would lack funds compared to us?”

“Grhm…”

Silence momentarily descended upon the chamber.

The two patriarchs strained their limited intellects to devise a solution.

Letting them go was technically an option.

Anasha’s proposal had little chance of being approved, and even if it was, the Empire’s army would only target the Serpent God.

Vion and Griant would remain untouched.

If there was one potential hiccup, it would be the Krase family. However, the Krase family, once a prestigious house, was already in decline.

While their patriarch had leadership qualities, she was still a young girl.

Even the “Hidden Blade” would struggle to strike down the patriarchs if the two families united their defenses.

In such a scenario, Krase’s downfall would likely come first. The patriarchs were well aware of this.

Still, they had already grown addicted to the absolute power of the Serpent God. Krase’s once-formidable family, the meddling citizens—none of them could resist the oppressive force of the Serpent God.

A world without that divine power was now unthinkable.

After a few minutes of contemplation, the ominous Vidor devised a plan.

“…How about entrusting this to the god?”

“To the Serpent God…?”

Andak’s eyes widened briefly, but soon gleamed with realization.

It was an excellent plan.

“The best… no, the optimal plan. With the Serpent God, there will be no trace of us left. It’s far more potent than hundreds of mercenaries!”

No need to deploy soldiers, so there was no anxiety about Krase’s retaliation.

Even if Anasha was a skilled mage and her group sizable, they stood no chance against a god.

And in the unlikely event of failure, they wouldn’t be implicated.

Besides…

“…We won’t need to worry about sacrifices for a while.”

“Exactly. Heh heh…”

The Serpent God’s insatiable appetite.

They had painstakingly selected their victims to avoid arousing suspicion among the citizens, but it had always been a hassle.

For now, they could rest easy.

The Serpent God would feast.

*

Sorab forcefully seized the music box and arrived at the patriarch’s office.

But he stopped as soon as he entered.

A guest was already there.

“Well, that was the Serpent God I’d heard so much about. Truly a sight to behold, without a hint of exaggeration. My condolences, Patriarch.”

“…Thank you.”

The visitor was Petras, a scholar and researcher who had previously met with Quellière.

He had come to the Krase patriarch for a personal matter. Lysithea glanced at Sorab before focusing on Petras.

“You’re asking for a letter of recommendation?”

Petras smiled faintly at her question.

“Actually, there are a few other things I’d love to have. Like the Krase family heirloom or even the family crest itself… But excessive greed is a no-go. I’d be satisfied with just a single recommendation letter. Specifically, one with the ‘Patriarch’s seal’ on it.”

It was an audacious remark.

Lysithea barely managed to suppress the twitch at the corner of her eyes. Losing her composure would mean falling for the opponent’s scheme.

Instead of getting angry, she analyzed the situation.

Confident, composed, and brimming with self-assurance, Petras indeed lived up to being the disciple of the theologian Agnatz.

The focus on achievements was also a hallmark of his disciples.

It was said that all of Agnatz’s pupils were exceptional and engaged in fierce competition to earn their master’s acknowledgment.

Lysithea didn’t know the exact details of this dynamic.

However, it was clear that Petras wasn’t an ordinary individual.

“Of course, I’m not asking for it for free. I came to propose a deal.”

“A deal… Fine, let’s hear it.”

Being the disciple of a scholar known as a sage, Petras wasn’t likely to speak nonsense.

There was a good chance that his self-assured demeanor was backed by something substantial.

Even so, as the one responsible for her family, she couldn’t afford to be ensnared.

Lysithea steeled herself, sharpening her gaze.

Though there was no dignity about her, it was evident that once she grew into adulthood, she would undoubtedly exude elegance. For now, however, she was merely a small girl.

Above all, Petras’s standards had temporarily soared due to a woman he’d recently met.

······Though she might’ve been an illusion or a spirit.

“Have you noticed any strange behavior from the monsters recently?”

Petras question touched on a subject familiar to Lysithea.

It was a critical issue for the family, one that needed urgent attention.

“How do you know about that… No, never mind. Plenty of citizens are aware already. So, what about it?”

“The culprit is the Serpent God.”

“……What?”

She had vaguely suspected as much.

But suspicion and confirmation were entirely different things.

Even if she doubted it, how could such a claim be proven?

“Serpent God… Or perhaps I should say ‘False God.’ My master conducted independent research on these entities.”

Petras began explaining in a low voice.

In truth, it wasn’t entirely appropriate to call Agnatz merely a theologian.

The title was a broad descriptor, given that theology was the field he was most fervently passionate about and actively engaged in.

The nickname “sage” wasn’t an exaggeration.

Agnatz mastered various fields of study, demonstrating unparalleled talent.

While wandering the world for research, he even encountered beings referred to as “gods.”

Through investigation and exploration, he became convinced that these entities originated from “ancient ruins of gods.”

“The Serpent God is one of those entities?”

“Indeed. Considering the ruins in the east and west are inaccessible, the source is likely in the southern desert beyond the villages. If it were in the north, it wouldn’t have escaped the influence of the Holy Kingdom.”

His reasoning was sound.

Excluding the labyrinths in the east and west, there were only two possible locations.

Based on the terrain and distance, the southern region was more likely.

“It’s puzzling why it left the desert villages and came as far as Yulistia… But regardless.”

Agnatz had named such beings “False Gods.”

He had also discovered that the monsters near False Gods underwent transformations.

It was likely due to the miasma exuded by these not-quite-divine entities.

The transformed monsters became more saturated with magic, more ferocious in nature, and significantly more dangerous.

These creatures were classified as “mutated monsters” in the research facility.

Some scribes preferred to call them “corrupted,” but the term was ultimately decided by the master.

“Mutated monsters must be a major headache for someone like you. They make monster subjugation, already a difficult task, even more arduous. The urgency also becomes a bigger problem, doesn’t it?”

Even under normal circumstances, periodic monster cleanup was challenging.

The monster-infested areas were vast, while the combat forces were limited.

By combat forces, it meant individuals skilled enough to handle monsters.

Subjugations were almost guaranteed to result in casualties, so ordinary soldiers weren’t suitable.

At this point, Lysithea grew curious.

What exactly was this man trying to say?

As if answering her doubts, Petras continued.

“Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about the Serpent God. But regarding the mutated monsters… I might be able to help a little.”

He casually raised his head.

“Have the mutated monsters been killing all the animals in the mountains?”

Then, he asked another question.

“…Yes. Reports have confirmed such behavior.”

“Normal monsters don’t behave that way. If they attack animals, it’s usually to feed themselves, not for any other purpose. Mutated monsters, however, are different. This is why the ecosystems around False Gods collapse, and nearby people suffer from food shortages.”

Petras’ words pierced through another crisis currently affecting Yulistia.

The city’s crisis wasn’t just about the Serpent God.

Mutated monsters were also a significant problem.

Their uncontrollable rampages and inexplicable behavior only escalated the damage.

At that moment, Petras provided the missing piece of the puzzle.

“I’ll share a crucial piece of information. The erratic behavior of mutated monsters is entirely due to ‘sound.'”

“Sound…?”

“Yes, sound.”

After delving into research on False Gods, Agnatz had turned his focus to mutated monsters.

Through countless experiments, he discovered that the transformation wasn’t influenced by touch or smell but by sound.

The sounds that triggered reactions were typically clear and bright, like bird chirps or the rustling of grass.

Human shouting didn’t elicit a reaction.

But if a person stepped on a branch, the monsters would respond.

They were hypersensitive to specific sounds.

For instance, when a False God was situated in a coastal region, the monsters in its vicinity would show aggression toward the sounds of the sea or marine creatures.

This confirmed that the mutation was linked to auditory influence.

“My master stopped his research at that point, but I continued independently. As a result, I succeeded in inventing a proud magical artifact: the ‘Sound Bomb.'”

Petras pulled out a small orb-like object from a pouch on his belt.

A bright voice echoed as he spoke.

“This works on ‘all mutated monsters.’ If it detonates nearby, they’ll flee. If it goes off farther away, they’ll approach. It’s invaluable for both hunting and escaping, I assure you.”

The story was reaching its climax.

“Of course, the production cost isn’t cheap. So, I propose this to you, Patriarch. Will you establish an exclusive contract with me—or rather, with my workshop? If you provide adequate funding, I’ll supply these solely to the Krase family. In return, you can evaluate their performance and… perhaps consider granting that recommendation letter.”

“Patriarch.”

Petras fervent pitch was interrupted by Sorab.

Though he had remained silent until now, the conversation had dragged on too long.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t interrupt out of respect for his master. However, Sorab was slightly agitated.

“I have something to show you.”

Excitement gleamed in his eyes as he thought of presenting this astonishing artifact to his lord.