I Have Become The Snow Maiden I Created

Translator: Marctempest

Editor/Proofreader: TempWane

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Chapter 54: Holy Night (3)

The night at the Grypheon Ducal House.

Lady Bulizé received a report from her informant.

“His Highness, the Crown Prince, has left the Empire’s territory.”

It was news shocking enough to leave anyone stunned.

However, she nodded calmly, as if she had anticipated it.

“He has likely arrived in the Holy State of Astar by now.”

“Understood. You may leave.”

“Yes.”

After the informant departed, Bulizé remained still for a moment before leaning back in her chair.

A sigh escaped her lips.

“…So, it has come to this after all.”

It felt slightly bitter, but not particularly shocking.

Perhaps it was because the signs had been there.

─I am thinking of heading to the Holy State.

That straightforward and honest remark from Artan had, in the end, been carried out.

He wasn’t a foolish man, so it was undoubtedly a decision made after deep contemplation.

I did find it strange.

His sudden and extreme devotion to training and his unexpected gift of flowers.

This wasn’t the Artan she knew, and people don’t change so easily.

“What could have been that pivotal moment for him…?”

Only one thing came to mind.

At that moment, a low voice pierced her thoughts.

“Bulizé.”

She turned her gaze.

A silhouette stood near the shadowed window.

It was her brother, Harold Grypheon, with whom she had been conversing earlier.

Overwhelmed with concern, he asked again.

“Are all those rumors true?”

“Yes. For the most part.”

The Sword Lord’s face stiffened considerably.

Bulizé informed him of everything.

The truth about her and Artan’s relationship, and even that he harbored feelings for another woman.

There was no need to hide it anymore.

“…Hah.”

Harold let out a bitter laugh.

His gaze wavered coldly.

For someone who had always assumed the marriage would proceed smoothly, it was understandably unsettling.

Watching him, Bulizé murmured quietly.

“There’s a popular rumor recently. That a calamity appeared in the Holy State and was repelled by a woman.”

“…It’s so absurd that hardly anyone believes it.”

“But Sir Agnauts departed for the Holy State right around that time. He’s a true scholar. If he suddenly abandoned his research to head abroad, there must be a reason. And now, even Artan has gone.”

All signs were pointing unmistakably to one conclusion. The most likely suspect was the saintess from the rumors.

Thinking of this unknown woman, Bulizé faintly smiled.

“I don’t know if that outlandish achievement is true, but… she’s quite popular, isn’t she?”

“Are you going to let this be?”

At Harold’s words, she lifted her gaze.

He looked down at her with resolute eyes, and Bulizé shook her head.

“No.”

She acknowledged Artan’s candid attitude when he spoke openly.

It meant he had made up his mind to act decisively without hesitation.

However, everyone has their circumstances.

“I thought he would handle it on his own, but now it’s time for me to act.”

“Yes, you should.”

“But I can’t go.”

A flicker of confusion crossed Harold’s eyes at her agreement.

Bulizé brushed her bangs aside and spoke calmly.

“Artan’s absence will be manageable for now. He must have taken precautions.”

“You’re saying it can’t be you?”

“Yes. If I disappear as well, it’ll draw too much suspicion. He and I are already under heavy scrutiny.”

It was an immediately convincing argument.

Before Harold could ask how she planned to act, she raised her head sharply.

“So, Brother, you should go.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Follow Artan to the Holy State. Find out who that woman is.”

Bulizé’s eyebrows sharpened into a decisive arch.

“And persuade them. Whether it’s Artan or that woman.”

It wasn’t time to give up yet.

If the Crown Prince acted unilaterally, the moral high ground would be on their side. Whatever decision he had made, it was not something that could be easily understood.

Guiding him back and proceeding with the marriage as planned.

There was no better course of action.

For herself, for her family, and for the Empire.

After a moment of silence, Harold asked again.

“…The method doesn’t matter?”

“People don’t care about the process.”

An unspoken agreement.

The moonlight cast a pale glow on the Sword Lord’s closed expression.

As the cold air lingered in the room, he gave a slight nod.

“Understood.”

He turned, sweeping the curtains aside with force.

The sound of the window opening was followed by a gust of wind sweeping through the room.

When darkness returned, Harold was no longer there.

I looked up at the sky.

The brilliant full moon. Its eerie light drenched the streets of Chelmberd.

“…The time when yin energy is at its peak.”

Just as Clavia had been waiting, so had I.

The city streets were quieter than ever, almost devoid of people.

Tomorrow marked the highlight of the Mass, the opening of the Sanctuary, so people were likely conserving their strength.

“Um… Quellière?”

“Yes?”

Nell called out to me from the side.

Her voice trembled slightly.

“Are we really going in?”

She pointed to a particular place, and I followed her gaze.

A domed structure crafted from a rare metal.

The landmark of Chelmberd: the Sanctuary.

We were currently on a hill overlooking the site.

I replied calmly.

“Yes. That’s why we’re here.”

“But this is the Sanctuary! The burial place of saints! …Not that I care much about them.”

“Then what does matter?”

“The fact that there’s a barrier here! And it’s swarming with guards!”

Rarely, Nell expressed intense concern.

It was understandable.

When it came to matters of faith, the Holy State was prone to overreacting.

The Sanctuary, in particular, was the pinnacle of their reverence, and attempting to intrude could result in catastrophic consequences.

But.

“I know.”

There was a way.

If a frontal assault was reckless, then there was no need to take the front route.

After all, how could Clavia have slipped past this tight security to carry out her schemes?

Even as a High Priestess, access to the Sanctuary was strictly monitored.

“There’s no need to worry.”

“Still—”

“There’s a hidden passage.”

“…What?!”

I looked around the grassy hill.

This spot was the “starting point,” so we could proceed from here.

“It’s a classic trick villains love to use.”

Narrowing my eyes, I recalled the setting from the game and began moving.

Ten steps forward from this marker, then four steps to the left, and then…

I found it.

Digging shallowly at the spot that seemed right, I uncovered a rectangular stone slab.

“Got it.”

This wasn’t just any stone—it was a magical tablet.

It was an enchanted artifact, and when I infused it with mana…

Paaaah—

The embedded command system activated, and blue light wrapped around my ankles.

This teleportation spell could move up to three people at once.

Time was tight, so I immediately reached out to Nell without hesitation.

“Grab on.”

“Uh… uh?!”

She widened her eyes in alarm, and I was just as flustered.

At this rate, I would go alone.

“Hurry and grab it.”

“N-no, wait! This is too sudden! I’m not ready yet—!”

“For what?”

“Wait. Just give me a second.”

Nell, who had been rambling incoherently, suddenly started taking deep breaths.

Hoo-ah, hoo-ah.

Watching her carefree behavior, my brow twitched.

The cooldown time for the magical tablet was long.

If I teleported alone, she wouldn’t be able to enter the Sanctuary.

“I can do this. I can do this…”

Oblivious to my frustration, Nell was busy psyching herself up.

Meanwhile, the light steadily rose, creeping up to my chin.

All she had to do was grab my hand. What was she doing?

Left with no choice, I reached out and grabbed her pale hand firmly.

“Eeeek!”

Her sharp scream echoed right next to me.

At the same time, the teleportation activated, pulling our bodies through the spell.

*

The depths of the Sanctuary.

Ignoring all obstacles, we arrived instantly, enveloped by a dazzling atmosphere.

This place, the heart of multiple barriers, had no living beings besides us.

The thought of countless saints buried here naturally made me feel reverent.

“Seriously… haah. I thought I was going to die.”

Of course, Nell didn’t care about any of that.

True to her irreverent nature, she had no connection to faith.

Either way, now wasn’t the time to idly admire the place.

“Follow me.”

Reverence could wait—we had work to do.

As I led the way, Nell followed hesitantly, still muttering complaints.

Ahead lay the “Sacred Grounds,” paved with tiles of white silver.

On top of them rested the holy coffins.

“Looking at this, you can tell how extraordinary these people must’ve been in life.”

Nell murmured with a curious expression.

I agreed.

“Indeed.”

“But what’s the point? They’re all buried here now.”

“…”

“And they became corpses without putting up much of a fight.”

What an utterly unromantic character.

In truth, I wasn’t much different, so I scanned the surroundings with a mild gaze.

The remains of the interred saints were nowhere to be seen.

They were all consummate actors.

The same likely applied to the graves of other devotees.

“Get ready.”

In any case, time was tight, so we had to act immediately.

I told Nell and opened one of the coffins.

“For what—”

—Kieeeek!

A distorted undead figure sprang out instantly.

Startled, Nell instinctively pinned it down.

“Hold it tightly. Don’t let it move.”

“O-okay!”

A sinister aura swirled around the undead’s entire body—a higher-class undead, far beyond ordinary ones.

Summoning her vampiric power, Nell quickly responded.

“Ugh… this thing!”

The strength of her lineage was dependable.

The undead, which had been dormant for ages, was no match for her overwhelming force.

However, this creature had once been a saint, and there were many of them, so conserving energy was crucial.

“Well done.”

I drew out the Talisman of Dawn and infused it with mana.

Fwaaaah—

A highly potent charm that was useless without physical contact.

Against a restrained target, however, it was an exceptionally effective weapon.

Kueeek!

My pure mana was converted directly into holy power through the talisman’s properties, striking at the undead’s inherent weakness.

The creature let out a deathly scream and crumbled.

“Haa… whew. What’s this?”

“It’s the remains of a saint. The undead has perished.”

When the influence of the authority dissipates, things naturally revert to their original state.

I glanced at the nameplate engraved on the coffin.

Saint Eor.

I didn’t know who they were, but their combat abilities didn’t seem particularly outstanding.

It had been simpler than expected.

But this was just the beginning.

“All of this needs to be dealt with today…?”

“Yeah. Let’s hurry.”

Saints were rare, perhaps a few per era, but gathering them all in one place made them formidable.

We continued the purification work mechanically, our minds blank as if we were machines.

Then, a nameplate caught my eye.

Filena Trandiad.

“…Nell.”

“I’m ready! Let’s begin.”

Creeeeak—

The coffin opened, and a long-haired undead rose abruptly.

Having repeated this process several times, our response was quick. The creature was subdued, and her cherished artifact touched its forehead.

Immediately, a beam of light radiated.

“Rest in peace.”

I softly whispered the blessing of repose.

The undead collapsed with a thud, but there was no time to rest.

The night was short, and many still awaited purification.

*

The next day.

The midday sunlight graced the sacred grounds with its benevolence.

The highlight of this Mass, the opening of the Sanctuary, had begun. The doors of the Sanctuary, typically under strict guard, were opened, and the tombs drew crowds.

Devotees brought their family members who had died honorably or tragically to the streets.

They would walk alongside the coffins of martyr-saints, receiving blessings.

“….”

People with joyful expressions whispered amongst themselves, while clerics and priests moved busily, driven by a sense of duty.

Amid this fervor, Chief Priest Lucia’s face was grim and distant.

She watched the Mass unfold with tension.

“…Saintess.”

Quietly, she recalled an individual.

The Saintess Quellière.

Her words, which had been shocking, were indeed true.

Having discreetly infiltrated the tomb to investigate, she found that the corpses had all turned into undead.

The disguise had been so perfect that she hadn’t sensed anything amiss until she opened the coffins.

“Such a horrific event happening in the heart of the Holy State.”

An unimaginably vile scheme.

Even upon reflection, it was a monstrously evil deed.

She had hurriedly convinced trustworthy priests to deal with the situation as best they could, but there hadn’t been enough time to eliminate everything.

At that moment, an announcer in a cleric’s hat turned to address the audience.

“On this holy day, all Sanctuaries and tombs that were previously restricted have been opened!”

Waaaaah—

The faithful responded with enthusiastic applause.

Encouraged, the announcer raised his voice even more.

“The sacred coffins will tour various sites in Chelmberd as per the procedures, culminating in a purification ceremony before all attendees. Afterward, the Sanctuaries and tombs will be thoroughly cleaned…”

Perhaps the good weather contributed to his smooth delivery. Time passed quickly, and soon he reached the final segment.

“This entire process will involve the cooperation of noble clerics and priests. Furthermore, the Radiant Knights have been dispatched to ensure your safety, so please enjoy the Mass without any concerns.”

The repeated assurances of safety loosened the atmosphere within the crowd.

Lucia bit her lower lip slightly.

Everyone remained focused on external threats.

No one had considered the possibility of an internal threat—like the corpses in the coffins attacking.

“Really… will everything be okay?”

The Saintess had instructed not to inform the congregation about this incident beforehand, and Lucia, trusting her, had complied.

But what could she possibly be thinking?

At this rate, wouldn’t things proceed just as the schemers had planned?

Moreover, the real problem wasn’t the tombs but the Sanctuary itself. The powerful undead saints.

“If even half the strength of these historical saints manifests…”

There could be no greater fear.

Her heart pounded with tension. The sound of her heartbeat roared in her ears as the procession of the sites continued.

*

Deafening cheers and the overwhelming support of the faithful surged over the scene.

Atop an iron bell tower, a resounding shout rang out.

“I am Apostle Ubarta!”

All eyes turned to the source of the voice.

A woman with navy blue hair stood there.

Draped in a black robe embroidered with waves, Ubarta shouted.

“The day of salvation has come! You foolish beings!”

“…W-what? What’s going on?”

“Is she insane?”

Most people tilted their heads in confusion, but a few sharp individuals were already preparing to respond.

Lucia was one of them.

“Even if you bark until your throat is torn, has God ever shown mercy? But He is different. Today, you will witness true salvation!”

The frenzied noise carried her words imbued with magic, spreading in all directions. Intense excitement had completely overtaken Ubarta’s mind.

A miracle was about to manifest.

“Behold carefully! He who even commands death itself! The dead shall personally punish you!”

As Ubarta raved, water droplets began to rise around her.

They clustered into a single sphere, forming a massive spell under the control of the apostle.

Then, it struck the bell.

Claaang—!

The deafening sound shook the heavens and the earth, forcing everyone to cover their ears.

It was the signal.

At that moment, figures in black robes surged forward from all directions.

Graaah—!

Kieeeek—!

Simultaneously, undead figures rose and attacked everything in sight.

Who could have foreseen this catastrophe? The horrified devotees fell into panic.

“Monsters…! They’re monsters!”

“Kyaaaaah!”

“Krhh… hahaha…”

Watching the chaos unfold, Ubarta burst into maniacal laughter.

“Hahaha… Ahahaha!”

Did you really think defeating one disaster meant you were safe?

That complacency and foolishness will lead you straight to hell.

Her mocking laughter echoed as she widened her eyes, determined never to forget this sight.

“…?”

Suddenly, confusion clouded her gaze.

Blinking, Ubarta looked down at the scene below.

The screams and commotion were far too subdued.

Even the undead’s cries were disappointingly faint.

“According to the plan, this place should already be a hellscape…”

Why did it feel so weak?

Frantically searching for the cause, Ubarta was shocked.

“The coffins…!”

Most of the coffins were intact.

Though many tomb coffins had been opened, the critical coffins in the Sanctuary—the core of the plan—showed no signs of movement.

As a result, the scheme was not unfolding as intended.

Something had gone wrong.

“…Why is it only this much? Did something go awry?”

The devotees, who had initially been caught off guard, were already assessing the situation and responding.

From the start, the security forces mobilized for the Mass were no ordinary group.

Knowing this, they had prepared for a large-scale riot using sheer numbers.

As Ubarta struggled with her confusion, a voice came from nearby.

“I heard everything.”

“…!”

A voice so beautiful it sent shivers down her spine.

Ubarta whipped around, her eyes catching a misty figure for an instant.

Then, she realized the figure’s true identity.

“Your name’s lovely, Ubarta. Anything else you’d like to say?”

A stunning beauty with hair shimmering in pale blue and white.

Her striking appearance rendered questions about how she had climbed up here irrelevant.

Quellière, gazing calmly at the apostle of waves, spoke indifferently.

“You should say it now, while you still can.”

Her crystalline blue eyes burned brightly.