Underneath a sky full of dark clouds. Black thorn trees squirm like snakes, and among them a black-haired girl with a giant dragon arm that defies the laws of physics glares at me.

“Are you here to stop me?”

She asks as she looks at me.

“I’m cold.”

When I answer this, Maleficent flinches. She knows the pain I’ve suffered indirectly in a world that I still don’t know if it’s a fantasy or a dream.

It’s not the kind of cold that makes you go crazy the moment you touch it. It’s the kind that gets stronger forever.

There’s no limit. Or it’s impossible to adapt to.

When you’re completely submerged in that cold and realize that even suicide is a luxury, you can only go crazy.

And even then, you’re still tormented by the cold.

“My warmth just melts into thin air.”

It’s okay that the harvester is dead. When he dies, he takes his warmth with him. But the people the harvester will kill in the future. Or the people who could become the harvester are dead.

“I don’t like that.”

While I was at it, I swung the white branch and cleared away the thorns around me.@@novelbin@@

The thorny trees that were wriggling slowly shrank.

Maleficent opened her mouth in displeasure at the sight.

“You’re moving freely in this place where magic doesn’t move. What kind of power are you using?”

Whirl.

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