When the humming sound coming from behind the rock began, Maxwell noticed something strange happening to him.
His body—bruised and battered just moments ago—started to heal.
It wasn't fast, but the moment the effect began, his body was bathed in an indescribable warmth. It felt as though he had never been injured in the first place. Like an actor wearing makeup to play an injured role—everything looked real, yet there was no pain.
But Maxwell knew for a fact that the injuries on his body had been very real.
Closing his eyes, Maxwell gave in to the soothing sensation, his tense body finally relaxing.
Then—
A sound came from the entrance of the cave.
His eyes snapped open.
Faint movement.
Coming from the monster.
"What the hell?!" Maxwell whispered in horror. "I'm pretty sure it was dead… what's going on?!"
As he stared, understanding slowly dawned on him.
"Its injuries… they're healing."
At the same time, he noticed another problem.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
Swallowing hard, Maxwell crawled toward the source of the humming behind the rock.
Cold sweat streamed down his face as dread tightened around his chest. Even though he already had an idea of what was happening, his body refused to calm down.
Fear didn't need logic.
Suppressing the oppressive feeling weighing him down, Maxwell crawled carefully, careful not to overexert his healing body—especially since he couldn't feel any pain right now.
A terrible thought crossed his mind.
What if something else entered the cave while I was unconscious?
Fortunately, his worst fear didn't come true.
When he finally reached behind the rock, the source of everything revealed itself.
One of the purple flowers.
The very flower given to him by the mysterious voice.
"So that's how it is, huh…" Maxwell let out a shaky laugh. "And here I was, shaking in my boots."
But reality quickly caught up with him.
"How do I even stop this thing?"
If he destroyed the flower, there was no guarantee the effect would stop. Worse, it might simply transfer to the second flower. And with his body still injured, stopping the healing now would almost certainly mean death.
Such a life-saving artifact couldn't be wasted.
"Dammit… what do I do?" Maxwell clenched his fists. "What can I even do?"
He glanced toward the monster.
It was still healing.
Options raced through his mind.
"First, I could destroy the flower… but there's no guarantee it would stop. Destroying both flowers like that would be insane."
That option was directly discarded.
"Second, I could try to—hell! There is no second option!"
Only now did Maxwell truly understand how dire the situation was.
Leaving the cave unprepared wasn't an option. Death by freezing would be just as horrible as being torn apart by that winged abomination.
Watching the monster's body twitch again, Maxwell made a decision.
A gamble.
He reached out, grabbed the humming flower—
And swallowed it.
The moment it entered his mouth, it felt like swallowing ice. It slid down his throat effortlessly, carrying a freezing sensation as it descended—cold, sharp, unnatural.
Then came the pain.
Not gradual.
Not manageable.
Agony exploded inside him.
Maxwell's world went blank.
He lost consciousness for the second time that day.
A pathetic display of weakness.
When Maxwell finally woke up, he had no idea how much time had passed. An hour? A day? A week?
All he knew was that it was still daytime.
"At the very least," he muttered dryly, "I didn't wake up as a snow hawk this time."
He stood up and stretched—only to realize something unbelievable.
All his injuries were gone.
His skin was smooth, unblemished, as if nothing had ever happened.
"Just as I hoped…" he exhaled deeply. "What a relief."
Maxwell collapsed onto the ground, rolling a few times with a crazed smile plastered across his face. He closed his eyes and rested for ten minutes—not because he was tired or injured, but because his mind was exhausted.
Eventually, he checked his phone.
Only four hours had passed.
1:00 PM.
He peeked behind the rock.
One of the flowers had disappeared—just as expected.
He retrieved a hamburger from his bag, ate in silence, then took a few sips of soda before putting it back.
After a while, a new problem surfaced.
"Holy hell… I'm so bored I might actually die."
He sighed heavily. "Even if the cold doesn't kill me, boredom might."
Maxwell slumped down, pulled out his tablet, and launched a pixelated 2D game—one he barely ever played.
"…This is awful."
Then inspiration struck.
"Books—yes, books!"
Excited, Maxwell reached into his bag and pulled out his notebook titled:
Maxwell's Compilation of the Suffering He Passed Through at the Hands of the Evil Mysterious Voice
Day 1:
"In the end, I still couldn't write Day One properly… I'll just add everything to Day Two and sort it out later."
He smiled.
Maxwell spent time writing down everything that had happened—from meeting the mysterious voice, to being transported here, assaulted by the cold, attacked by the snow hawk, and healed by the flower.
Though none of it sounded earth-shattering on paper, to Maxwell, these two days were the most eventful of his life.
Eventually, boredom returned.
His gaze drifted to the monster.
"…Might as well see if you're useful."
Grabbing his sword, Maxwell approached and jabbed the corpse a few times.
No reaction.
Carefully, he reached out, intending to flip it over and cut off its wings to reduce its size.
But the moment his hands touched the monster's body—
Something horrific happened.