The world was white. Not the blinding, holy white of Aucuses that incinerated souls, but a silent, suffocating white.
The snow didn't fall; it hung in the air like suspended dust in a sunbeam, painted in thick, deliberate strokes of oil and gouache.
Klein Moretti stood up, brushing snow from his coat. He felt a sense of deja vu.
The flakes didn't melt; they smudged against his fabric like wet paint. He looked up. The sky was a pale blue wash, the clouds sketched with charcoal lines that didn't move with the wind.
"We are in the book," Klein confirmed, his voice sounding flatter, less resonant than in the real world.
His connection to Sefirah Castle felt distant, muffled, like a radio signal struggling through a thick tunnel.
Beside him, Kim Dokja groaned, pulling himself out of a snowdrift. His [Nephilim] wings were gone. His HP bar was flickering red at 30%, the backlash from the "Annihilation" paradox still tearing at his Spirit Body.
"This place..." Dokja squinted at the horizon, where jagged ice peaks were drawn with sharp, aggressive ink lines.
"It's a Divine Kingdom," Klein explained, his [Spirit Vision] activating. The colors of the world were muted, but the spirituality was dense, woven into the very paper of the reality. "Or a grave. This is the resurrection plan of the Dragon of Imagination, Ankewelt."
He looked at Dokja, his expression grim. "And we are the new characters."
Suddenly, the ground shook.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Heavy footsteps approached through the blizzard. Klein adjusted his monocle, while Dokja gripped the hilt of Unbroken Faith, forcing his exhausted body into a stance.
Out of the white mist, three figures emerged.
Out of the white mist, a massive figure emerged. He was a giant, nearly four meters tall. His skin was a grayish-blue, and his abdomen was covered in a thick, furry beast hide, leaving his massive, scarred legs exposed to the biting cold. In the center of his forehead was a single vertical eye, but it held none of the tyranny associated with his race. It glowed with a simple, honest warmth. He carried a broadsword wider than a human door.
Groselle.
The Guardian Giant of the Second Epoch.
Behind him walked a woman with soft, lustrous black hair tied in a simple pigtail. She wore a brown, ancient-styled hunter's coat. Her ears were slightly pointed, and her facial features were soft, yet her eyes held the storm-blue intensity of the ocean.
Siatas.
The Elvish Songster.
And finally, a middle-aged man in an extremely spartan white robe. He had short brown hair and deep wrinkles etched by hardship, but he didn't appear old. His exposed arms and calves were a tapestry of old scars—the marks of a pious ascetic. Snowman. The Priest of Light from the Third Epoch.
"New faces?" Groselle boomed, his voice deep and jovial. He stopped, leaning on his sword, the metal sinking into the snow.
Klein blinked. 'Groselle. Siatas. Snowman. But where are Mobet and Frunziar? Ah... right. We are in the Third Epoch. Mobet is from the Fourth, and Frunziar is from the Fifth. They haven't been trapped yet. Herabergen must have possessed this book before passing it down through history.'
He scratched the back of his head, a subconscious habit of embarrassment.
"You look small. Are you hurt?"
Klein looked at the giant.
'Groselle. You are still as foolishly kind as ever.'
"We are... adventurers," Klein lied smoothly, adopting a humble posture. "We were caught in a strange fog and woke up here."
"A fog?" Snowman nodded sagely, clutching his holy symbol—a sun cross. "The Lord says that trials often come in the form of confusion. You are safe now. We are hunting a beast."
"We are travelers," Klein said, his voice gentle. "We were separated from our caravan by the storm. My name is Gehrman... no, call me Merlin. And this is Kim."
"A beast?" Dokja asked, eyeing the giant.
"The King of the North!" Siatas exclaimed, her voice melodious yet sharp. Her eyes flashed with lightning. "Ulyssan! The Frost Dragon who rules this land. He has frozen the path to the outside world. If we kill him, the door will open, at least we guess so."
Klein exchanged a glance with Dokja. 'Kill the boss to clear the dungeon. Classic.'
"We will help," Klein said. "My companion and I are... somewhat skilled."
"Hah!" Groselle laughed, slapping Klein on the back with enough force to stagger a bear. "I like your spirit, little one! But be warned. Ulyssan is no ordinary lizard. His breath freezes the soul!"
They set up camp in a shallow cave. The fire crackled, but it gave off no smoke—only warmth. The flames were painted in vibrant oranges and reds, contrasting with the dull blue of the cave walls.
Dokja sat by the fire, reading the "status" of the NPCs via his [Character List].
===
[Character: Groselle]
Race: Giant
Role: Tank / Guardian (Sequence 5)
Mental State: Loop-Locked. He believes he is still in the Second Epoch.
...
===
[Character: Siatas]
Race: Elf
Role: Ranged DPS / Ocean Songster (Sequence 5)
Mental State: Loop-Locked.
...
===
[Character: Snowman]
Race: Human (Deceased)
Role: Support / Priest of Light (Sequence 5)
Mental State: Loop-Locked.
...
===
"They are ghosts," Dokja whispered to Klein, keeping his voice low so the cheerful giant wouldn't hear. "Echoes of people who died a long time ago. Their consciousness has been copied and modified by the book to fit the story."
"I know," Klein replied, staring into the painted fire. He felt a pang of pity. These were heroes of their time, trapped in a book, destined to repeat a hunt they could never finish until someone "completed" the story. And once completed... they would dissipate.
"We have a month," Klein calculated. "The time ratio is 1:1. The Eastern Continent is turning into the Forsaken Land. If we stay here too long..."
"We miss the bus," Dokja finished.
"We need to break the narrative," Klein said. "But first, we play along. We kill the dragon."
Groselle interrupted their secret conversation by offering them a massive chunk of roasted meat. "Eat! You need strength. Tomorrow, we hunt Ulyssan!"
"The Frost Dragon," Siatas said, sharpening her blade. "He is a quasi-demigod monster. He has frozen the path to the south. We have been fighting him for... a long time."
She frowned, as if trying to remember exactly how long. The book's logic fogged her memory.
"He is a demon," Snowman prayed. "But the God gives us strength. With your help, perhaps this time..."
The next "day" (the book cycle moved quickly), the party marched toward the peaks. The temperature dropped to levels that would kill an ordinary human instantly. Even Klein, with his [Clown] control, shivered as the cold tried to freeze his thoughts.
ROAR.
A sound like a sonic boom shattered the ice cliffs. From the charcoal clouds, a massive shadow descended.
Ulyssan, the King of the North. He was a Frost Dragon at the quasi-demigod level. His scales were like diamonds, reflecting the pale light. His wings were vast membranes of frozen skin. His eyes were violent, eerie-blue orbs of tyranny. He was a monster from an era before Potions, wielding raw, elemental power.
"Prepare yourselves!" Groselle shouted. [Dawn Armor]. A layer of silver light coated his body. He charged, his greatsword glowing with the [Light of Dawn], looking like a silver meteor crashing into a mountain.
[Ice Breath].
Ulyssan opened his maw. A distorted, silent blue flame washed over the battlefield. It wasn't just cold; it was the concept of Freezing. Groselle raised his sword. The Dawn Light clashed with the Ice Breath, creating a shockwave of steam that instantly turned into snow.
"Support!" Siatas sang a melody of war, her voice piercing the howling wind. [Lightning Strike]. Silver bolts rained down on the dragon, cracking its ice armor.
Snowman raised his staff.
[Sun Halo].
A golden ring expanded, purifying the freezing aura and buffing the team's resistance against the dragon's [Frost Halo].
"Now, Dokja!" Klein ordered.
Klein didn't use his full demigod powers; he didn't want to break the book's logic yet. He used [Flame Controllin]. He snapped his fingers. The steam generated by Groselle's clash ignited. A sea of fire erupted around the dragon's head, blinding it.
Dokja moved.
[The exclusive skill 'Bookmark' is activated!]
[The 5th bookmark, Kyrgios Rodgraim is selected!]
[The exclusive skill 'Electrification Lv. 23 (+13)' is activated.]
[Your current body configuration is different from that of the character.]
[Your status has overcome the penalty of the physical conditions.]
He leaped into the air, his sword wreathed in white electricity.
He didn't aim for the scales.
He aimed for the eyes.
Ulyssan shrieked.
[Wind Control].
A hurricane blasted Dokja backward.
[Freezing].
A pulse of white light expanded from the dragon. The air turned solid. Dokja's movements slowed to a crawl; his joints creaked as ice formed in his veins.
"You dare!" Ulyssan roared in Dragonese, his voice shaking the mountain.
"I dare," Klein whispered. He switched positions with a [Paper Figurine] near the dragon's neck. [Spirit Body Threads Manipulation]. He grabbed the threads of the dragon. He didn't try to control it—it was too strong for an instant takeover. He just... tugged.
Ulyssan stumbled in mid-air, his flight path disrupted.
Groselle saw the opening.
[Hurricane of Light].
The giant spun, his sword turning into a vortex of destruction. He slammed it into the dragon's exposed underbelly.
Blue blood sprayed onto the snow, freezing instantly into sapphires.
"Finish it!" Siatas drew her bow.
[Lightning Bolt Arrow].
The arrow, wreathed in the concept of a storm, pierced the dragon's heart.
Ulyssan crashed to the ground.
The mountain shook.
The dragon gasped, its blue eyes fading. It looked at the sky, at the charcoal clouds.
"Why..." it wheezed. "The story... ends..."
The dragon's body dissolved. It didn't turn into characteristics. It turned into a heavy, snow-laden door. The exit.
"We did it!" Groselle cheered, raising his sword. "We finally killed the beast!"
The NPCs cheered. They hugged each other. They didn't know they had died centuries ago. They didn't know that walking through that door meant their final death.
Klein looked at the door. He looked at Dokja.
[Story 'Groselle's Travels' is concluding.]