Chapter 37
“I’ve sealed Fueherion over 200 times, and after reliving the same life that many times, I’ve killed him 107 times. But nothing changed.”
Listening to Winter Orcheus speak felt like a dream. His voice was calm and distant, like a drifting cloud.
“When the continent collapses and all the light disappears, everything is swallowed by darkness. In that darkness, I couldn’t even tell if my limbs were still attached. I didn’t know what was going down. The only choices were to curl up until I stopped breathing… or to take my own life.”
Winter let out a soft laugh.
“But now, you can kill me.”
His voice sent a chill down my spine, and I instinctively pushed him away. But then I froze.
Even after being shoved, Winter looked peaceful—like he was lost in a comfortable dream.
He looked… like a hero.
Even though I had seen him kill me so many times, he had the expression of a noble hero. I forced myself to speak, like pushing open a window frozen with frost.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
In the original novel Wings of the White Dragon, the only threat mentioned was Fueherion.
The “unrecordable catastrophe” clearly referred to Fueherion.
If it didn’t, how would the story have ended the way it did? Winter’s mission had been stated many times in the original story:
***
[Fueherion. No—Evil God Abilisk. Winter finally knew what he had to do. The fog had cleared, and his purpose was clear: seal away the Evil God and sneak the burnt soup out before Jeina noticed. This was his destiny.
—Wings of the White Dragon, Vol. 3, “Evil of the Sea.”]
[Winter smiled. A giant green body that could touch the sky. Black hair that turned the sea to evil. Everything felt crushing, but instead of fear or anger, he felt joy—like it was his birthday.
‘This is the end.’
Winter was the savior of the continent, but ironically, the Evil God Abilisk was also his savior—freeing him from the hellish cycle of repeating life.
—Wings of the White Dragon, Vol. 6, “Song of Evil.”]
***
And so the story ended with Fueherion being sealed.
So the “unrecordable catastrophe” must be Fueherion… right?
Just as I nodded in certainty, a thought hit me and made my heart sink.
No character in the story actually knew what the “unrecordable catastrophe” really was.
It made sense. The last time it happened was over 200 years ago.
Everyone from that time was long dead, and no clear records existed—hence the vague name.
“So… is Fueherion really an unrecordable catastrophe?”
I thought of the idea of an “Easter egg”—a hidden detail left by the author for fans to find, something never fully explained.
Could the catastrophe just be a hidden twist?
If Fueherion and the catastrophe were separate things, then there must be a reason why they were treated differently.
If they’re separate, then… Why even include the catastrophe in the story?
“I must be missing something,” I thought. “Everything is the author’s intention. The answer must be in the work.”
Think Lee Seoa. What are you missing?
Why is Winter Orcheus still trapped in time?
“You don’t need to be afraid.”
While I was lost in thought, Winter’s voice brought me back.
Was I really showing that much fear on my face?
I still didn’t know what to say to him.
Should I comfort him? Get angry? Slap him awake?
“I won’t leave you alone in that horrible darkness,” he said. “When the time comes, I’ll break your neck and send you back to the world of light.”
I thought to myself—
“And I promise to find you again. Don’t ever forget that.”
In the middle of all the confusion, one thing was clear:
“I’ll share in all your deaths, just as you are pulled into mine.”
Even though he looked like he had forgotten what exhaustion was…
I just wished he could rest now.
And… maybe I wanted to rest too.
***
Meanwhile…
“What do you mean that’s what happened?!”
Baroness Clozet, the head maid, dropped to her knees as Duke Bern Rohia shouted in fury.
“Izana isn’t here?! What are you talking about?!”
His face turned red with rage. Though he left out her last name, it wasn’t because he loved her like a daughter.
No—saying “Rohia” reminded him of his wife’s betrayal. So he avoided it.
Still, his desperation to find Izana was real.
Baroness Clozet replied with a trembling voice.
“I-I’m sorry, but I was only in charge of Izana’s table manners… Everything else was Lady Loti Hessward’s responsibility. I thought you gave instructions to her directly…”
“Baroness Clozet! Are you saying I neglected her?!”
This time, it was not Bern who yelled, but his wife, Lady Yudis.
She was clearly flustered. She hadn’t even noticed Izana was missing until Bern mentioned her name after stepping out of the carriage.
It wasn’t on purpose. She had simply forgotten in the chaos.
Or maybe she did think of it briefly, but assumed Loti would handle it.
“N-no, my lady! I didn’t mean it like that!”
Yudis glared at Clozet, unable to speak further.
As the woman closest to Yudis, Clozet should have noticed and stepped in first.
“If you knew I was busy with Ubel and the others, shouldn’t you have thought more carefully?!”
Yudis shouted again.
In the corner, Molly Hennes, the nanny holding Ubel, looked at Yudis with quiet disapproval.
“The Duke and I handled Ubel…” she thought, remembering how Yudis had rushed into the carriage with Josef and Boris and told them to go.
She quickly lowered her gaze, worried her thoughts were showing on her face.
“So what now?! What do you plan to do?!”
Bern pointed a trembling finger at Yudis.
“The Emperor just warned us a few days ago, and now you’ve caused another scandal! What are you going to say this time?!”
He yelled so loudly that baby Ubel woke up and started crying.
But Bern was too furious to stop.
“What if people say we abandoned a child during the chaos?! What if His Majesty finds out?! He told us to stay at the capital, and now we’ve left her behind?! What will you say to him?!”
“Shut up!”
Yudis screamed sharply.
“You’re making it worse by yelling like that!”
The two glared at each other for a while.
Yudis breathed heavily, then bit her lip.
“I’ll handle it. As the mistress of this house. But remember, that doesn’t mean I’m to blame—it means it’s my responsibility to fix it! This is all because that useless maid didn’t do her job properly!”
Bern clenched his fists, staring at her.
“Fine. Let’s see how well you handle it. Since you’re so confident, if anything goes wrong, it’ll all be your fault!”
He turned away and stormed off.
Yudis stared at his back with a hateful look.
Meanwhile, the head butler Adrian stepped carefully toward her and whispered something.
He had been suspicious ever since Boris had borrowed the master key just before dawn.
As Adrian quietly spoke, Yudis’s expression changed rapidly—until finally, her face went blank.
