The underground cavern had fallen silent.
Countless mana crystals illuminated the darkness with soft blue and silver radiance.
The light reflected across stone walls, crystal pillars, and the endless sea of serpent monsters resting throughout the mine.
The battlefield from earlier now resembled a meeting hall.
A stone table stood at the center.
Two chairs faced one another.
On one side sat Kel Rosenfeld.
On the other sat the ancient serpent woman.
Around them, dozens of knights remained on guard.
Yet nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
Because for the first time since the battle began...
The conversation had become personal.
Kel rested one arm against the stone table.
His golden eyes remained calm.
Observant.
Curious.
Not hostile.
Not aggressive.
Curious.
The serpent woman noticed.
She had noticed it from the beginning.
Unlike most humans.
This young Count rarely looked at people with prejudice.
He looked at them like puzzles.
Questions waiting to be answered.
Then Kel finally spoke.
"May I ask something?"
The woman folded her arms.
"You've been asking things since we met."
A faint smile appeared on Kel's face.
"That's true."
The serpent rolled her eyes.
"Then ask."
Kel nodded.
"Why?"
The woman frowned.
"...Why what?"
Kel leaned slightly forward.
"Why did you choose a different path?"
The question echoed softly throughout the crystal cavern.
The serpent remained silent.
Kel continued.
"You could have lived as an ordinary snake."
The woman immediately disliked where this conversation was heading.
Very much.
"You could have found a mate."
The serpent's eye twitched.
"You could have laid eggs."
Another twitch.
"You could have hunted prey."
Another.
"You could have spent your life swallowing animals whole."
The twitching intensified.
"Then eventually die."
A pause.
"Either to humans."
Another pause.
"Or another monster."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Several nearby knights quietly took a step away from the serpent woman.
Because her expression had become dangerous.
Very dangerous.
One knight whispered.
"Lord Kel is doing it again."
Another nodded.
"He's somehow insulting her without realizing it."
A veteran shook his head.
"No."
His gaze remained fixed upon Kel.
"He knows exactly what he's doing."
Nobody felt reassured.
Meanwhile.
The serpent woman stared at Kel.
Her golden eyes narrowed.
For a brief moment.
She genuinely wanted to bite him.
Not because he was wrong.
Because he was right.
Every word.
Every single word.
Was right.
That was the annoying part.
The woman slowly exhaled.
Because she had witnessed it.
Lived through it.
Observed it.
For centuries.
The endless cycle.
A serpent laid eggs.
Half were eaten before they hatched.
The survivors emerged.
Weak.
Hungry.
Afraid.
Then came the next trial.
Their siblings.
The strong devoured the weak.
The weak disappeared.
No mercy.
No affection.
No family.
Only survival.
Afterward came adulthood.
Hunting.
Fighting.
Running.
Hiding.
Then eventually—
A mate.
For a brief season.
Then separation.
The male departed.
Never returning.
The female remained alone.
Pregnant.
Vulnerable.
Hungry.
Forced to protect herself.
Forced to survive.
Forced to endure.
Then eventually—
Eggs.
Thousands of them.
And afterward?
Nothing.
The mother left.
The children remained.
No love.
No guidance.
No protection.
Only another generation entering the same cycle.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The serpent woman lowered her eyes.
Because she had watched it countless times.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Perhaps tens of thousands.
The years had blurred together long ago.
Yet the cycle never changed.
Kel quietly observed her.
Then asked another question.
"What made you different?"
The woman looked up.
Kel continued.
"Most snakes follow instinct."
A pause.
"You didn't."
Another.
"You cultivated."
Another.
"You endured loneliness."
Another.
"You sacrificed centuries."
His voice became softer.
"Why?"
The cavern became silent once more.
The serpent opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Because for the first time...
She realized she didn't know how to answer.
Not properly.
Not with words.
The answer existed.
Deep inside her memories.
Far beyond language.
Far beyond explanation.
Kel's next question pierced directly into that place.
"Above all."
The young Count's golden eyes reflected the crystal light.
"When did you decide you didn't want to live like every other serpent?"
Silence.
"Where did that motivation come from?"
The question lingered.
And suddenly—
Memories resurfaced.
Ancient memories.
Memories buried beneath centuries.
The crystal cavern slowly disappeared from her awareness.
The knights vanished.
The mine vanished.
The table vanished.
Even Kel vanished.
Only memories remained.
A tiny egg.
Cold.
Alone.
Hidden beneath rocks.
Waiting.
Then hatching.
The world was harsh.
Cruel.
Hungry.
A sibling attacked immediately.
Then another.
Then another.
Pain.
Fear.
Survival.
The memories moved.
Years passed.
A young serpent slithered through forests.
Through snow.
Through rivers.
Hiding.
Running.
Surviving.
Always surviving.
Then one day—
Something happened.
A memory she had never forgotten.
A human child.
The image appeared vividly.
A small human girl.
Perhaps six years old.
Perhaps seven.
The child sat beside a stream.
The serpent had been injured.
Starving.
Near death.
The girl found her.
The young serpent remembered preparing to attack.
Preparing to flee.
Preparing to survive.
Instead—
The girl offered food.
The memory remained clear.
A tiny hand.
Small fingers.
A warm smile.
The human child wasn't afraid.
She wasn't trying to kill her.
The girl simply smiled.
Then spoke words the serpent never forgot.
"You're alive too."
The memory struck her heart.
Even now.
Back then.
She hadn't understood the language.
Not fully.
Yet somehow...
She understood the meaning.
The child treated her differently.
Not prey.
Not predator.
Not monster.
Alive.
Simply alive.
The memory continued.
The child eventually left.
Returned home.
Disappeared from her life forever.
Yet the question remained.
Why?
Why did humans care for family?
Why did they protect one another?
Why did they build homes?
Why did they remember the dead?
Why did they love?
Why did they seem different?
The young serpent had become curious.
Then curiosity became observation.
Observation became thought.
Thought became understanding.
And understanding became ambition.
For the first time in her life.
She wanted something more.
Not survival.
Not instinct.
Choice.
She wanted choice.
The memory faded.
The crystal cavern returned.
The stone table returned.
The knights returned.
Kel returned.
The serpent woman stared silently at the young Count.
Her expression had changed.
The anger was gone.
The frustration gone.
Only thought remained.
Deep thought.
Kel quietly waited.
Not rushing her.
Not pressuring her.
Eventually.
The woman spoke.
Very softly.
"I don't know."
The answer surprised everyone.
Even herself.
She lowered her gaze.
"I genuinely don't know."
A faint smile appeared.
Sad.
Nostalgic.
Ancient.
"At some point..."
Her voice became distant.
"I simply realized I wanted more."
Kel remained silent.
The serpent looked toward the glowing mana crystals surrounding them.
Then toward the countless snakes sleeping throughout the cavern.
Then finally toward herself.
"I wanted a life that belonged to me."
The cavern fell silent.
Far beneath Scarder Lake.
Seiren quietly listened.
And for the first time since the conversation began...
The Guardian did not laugh.
Because she understood.
So did Kel.
The desire to choose one's own path.
To reject the path everyone expected.
To walk toward something unknown.
It was a feeling both of them knew very well.
And perhaps for the first time since entering the mine...
The Lord of Frostbound Coast and the Ancient Serpent no longer looked like enemies.
They looked like two beings who had both refused to become what the world expected them to be.