The world became bright and white wherever Konrad looked.
Even keeping his eyes open became a struggle, but Stella's breakdown caused way more than a burst of light. Blinding ice and snow covered the Inquisitor's office and Halaima beyond it.
His hitching breath left a small puff hanging in the air, his lungs burning from the cold.
The chill came without a warning, biting to the bone, leaving him desperate for warmth.
Well, he had fire runes and plenty of mana to summon a flame—but regretted it immediately.
While Konrad didn't even think of attacking, retaliation was swift and brutal.
The executioner screamed, raining a swarm of icicles down on him, each larger than a dragon's teeth. They were razor-sharp as well, and too cold for his meager spell to melt them.
A stark reminder that he still hadn't learned proper defensive magic.
Among many others—but it was almost too late to get his priorities right.
If not for a translucent bubble appearing around him, this could've been the end of his story. Where did it come from? He didn't care—but gave his most sincere thanks to the spirits.
"Stop getting us killed," Welf shouted—at him, not at the insane woman. "Fire freaks her out."
The redhead's mouth was getting purple, his pale skin already tinged in blue. He was the least dressed among them all with that stupid tribal fashion—but he wasn't wrong.
While Konrad had no idea what had happened, they all knew who they had to face.
Stella, who hated flames more than anything. She was acting up ever since her reunion with Otto, but to think she'd go as far as creating this winter scene in summer?
Well, Konrad didn't think she did it on purpose—but how to reason with her in such a state?
Even if she stopped her mindless attacks, they would've frozen to death in minutes. He had rather not fought her, but what else was there to do when she was screaming like a banshee?
If only he could see her in the blinding whiteness.
Her garbled words and panting echoed from everywhere at once, but she was a ghost in the chaos she created. So if not her, he had to fight at least the cold instead—and without a flame.
"I'm an idiot," he choked, smacking his own forehead.
He had the perfect spell ready to cast, though he hadn't thought of it for comfort use before.
The Isekai Microwave. If it could cook the Rabid Crows' heavies in normal circumstances—
"I'll keep us warm and cozy until we figure something out," he promised. He recalled the syntax for infrared light, tying a heat source to every adamantite item he could find.
He didn't bother to sort through them—with plenty of mana to spare.
And holy hell, the change was immediate.
Might've even overdid it, his skin burning, but it felt nice against the cold. Welf's color was returning to normal right away, the Blood Moons taking the chance to swarm the office.
They must've avoided the brunt of the initial cold wave by hiding low behind the walls.
The Inquisitor was also cowering in one of the corners, fear and astonishment on his square face. He didn't seem cold, though, Konrad suspecting magic—only to realize it was his doing.
Otto Ostfeld clutched a small satchel of coins like his life depended on it.
Adamantite—the very ore the Inquisitor tortured out of him.
He considered cutting that heat off, but a floating green light caught his attention.
It flew in circles before racing towards the ceiling. Which had disappeared at some point, a thin ice pillar reaching for the sky in its place.
Following the light, he no longer had to look for Stella.
She was at the top of her tower, almost unrecognizable.
The androgynous face was the same, but paler.
Silvery white hair floated around her like gravity was no longer a thing. They were once pale gold, but the most striking difference was in her eyes.
He could no longer see the cold, calculating grey irises.
They became much sharper, a cold turquoise, and more lights circled her slender frame.
It was a cacophony of colors in an erratic pattern—spirits.
Konrad only saw them once before, but recognized their panic.
Stella lost herself in her cold rage, destroying buildings at random with a wave of her hands. The spirits tried to calm her in vain, but at least this kept her busy, giving Konrad time to think.
The green, fist-sized orb not so much.
Once it showed him the tomboy, it returned to buzz around and whisper.
He couldn't understand a word, but he could guess the intent.
"I get it," Konrad groaned, "you don't want me to kill her. But what am I supposed to do?"
The little green light couldn't answer, but its flight pattern changed again. It flew towards the Inquisitor this time—or rather, a small shape near him, already covered in snow.
Shit. He forgot about Brigida Brave.
And regretted taking his eyes off of Stella, too.
Another icicle flew towards him, much larger than the ones before. The Executioner used them to crush entire buildings in the deserted town. But one was heading straight for him.
"Fuck, fireb—"
He couldn't finish—he didn't have to.
Another one of those translucent bubbles appeared around him, shattering the ice. It disappeared a second later, snow befalling on him, but no harm.
"Holy—was that you?" he asked the floating light, but it only did another circle.
Then he noticed the little bump in the snow, shaking. A hand dropped, no longer reaching towards him. It was the child. She saved him for whatever reason, twice already.
After striking him with so many lightnings.
Nothing made sense anymore, but he acted before he could think.
He created another heat source, embedded in his armguard. Then he tore it off to throw it at the little bump. The snow around it melted immediately, the child crawling closer.
Her breath was no longer visible, and the floating light also became less erratic.
"Happy?" Konrad asked, unsure to whom. "What's next?"
He dealt with the immediate danger and saved even those who harmed him.
But Stella didn't show signs of slowing down. She destroyed one house after another. He wanted to capture the town intact—letting out a sigh as Vargas and Welf approached him.
The light didn't answer, nor could they, watching the ex-executioner with open jaws.
"She could do that this entire time?" The redhead was the first to talk. What a good question.
"I'm sure she could," Konrad pondered, cranking up his Isekai Microwave even higher. "But I doubt even she knew about it." And how much mana did she have?
The transmutation artifact didn't even swell on her wrist back in the day, but this?
The cold was getting deeper, and he had to add more heat sources to the mix. He could afford it, feeding them from his armor's mana reserves, in case someone decided to zap him again.
"It doesn't seem like she's getting tired," Vargas muttered.
"She does not," Konrad agreed, glancing at the Inquisitor next.
And he was worrying about Otto. How silly it was.
The Blood Moons surrounded him without resistance. And Stella, whom he brought along on a whim, caused quite a headache.
"One way or another, we'll have to stop her," he said, determined. "So let's tire her out anyway."