The cheers faded, leaving only the wind and the soft crunch of snow beneath their boots. Frostholm was quiet now—too quiet for heroes who had just been celebrated.

Boreas blinked, his massive white fur shifting as he exhaled slowly. “Ah… I had forgotten how long it’s been. It feels like only yesterday that Alioth walked this land and spoke with me.” His voice grew quieter, a thread of sorrow weaving through his words. “Time flows so swiftly, doesn’t it?”

Hilda stepped closer, her expression gentle. “Boreas…” she whispered, concern in her eyes.

But Boreas shook his head slightly, halting her words. “No need to worry about me. I’m just reminiscing.” Straightening his large frame, his voice resumed its commanding tone. “Go now. Rest. This has been a long day for all of you.”

Hilda turned to Star and the others. “Come, I’ll take you to the church. It’s old but sturdy—it’s stood since this village was founded.”

They nodded and followed Hilda through the snowy streets of Frostholm. The cold air stung their faces, but the warmth of their resolve kept them moving. As they walked, the faint sound of Boreas greeting the villagers could be heard behind them.

Star lingered at the back of the group, her steps slowing as she glanced over her shoulder. The tall figure of Boreas stood among the villagers, his presence both comforting and a reminder of the past. For a moment, she thought she saw a trace of sorrow in the way Boreas held himself back, even as he spoke to the people who had waited so long for his return.

Turning her gaze back to her friends, Star’s expression softened. Friedrich walked ahead, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders as if testing his strength after the long battle. Nearby, Siegfried chuckled quietly, engaged in lively conversation with Klara, who moved with enthusiasm, sparks of lightning flickering around her hands as she spoke.

A warm smile spread across Star’s face. Though the cold pierced her body, a calming warmth bloomed in her chest. These were her friends—her family—and the bond they shared felt unbreakable.

Klara noticed Star’s smile and tilted her head, curiosity in her eyes. “Star, what’s on your mind?”

Star blinked, momentarily surprised, but the smile stayed. “Ah... I was just remembering when we first met.” Her voice took on a nostalgic tone. “Klara, you were experimenting with your catalyst and almost caused a thunderstorm in the courtyard.”

Klara laughed, sparks crackling around her fingers as if echoing the memory. “That wasn’t my fault! I didn’t expect the storm surge to be that strong.”

Star’s gaze shifted to Friedrich. “And Friedrich, you were training near Odinshold. You looked so focused and determined back then.”

Friedrich grinned. “I was training to be the best. No one’s going to outdo me.”

Klara’s grin turned mischievous as she leaned toward Star. “And what about Siegfried?”

Star froze, her face turning red instantly. “W-what about him?”

Siegfried, who had been listening quietly, turned with a curious smile. “Hm? Did I do something memorable?”

Klara stifled a giggle as she watched Star struggle for words. “Oh, nothing! Just... you were there too, that’s all!”

Friedrich snorted in amusement while Siegfried let out a quiet laugh, his gaze warm as he looked at Star. “Well, whatever it was, I’m glad it stuck with you.”

Star quickly turned away, pretending to admire the snowy rooftops of the village, her heart pounding. Klara exchanged a glance with Friedrich, a playful smirk on her lips, but neither said anything more.

As they neared the church, its weathered walls standing firm against the elements, Star felt a deep sense of gratitude wash over her. Whatever trials awaited them, she knew she wouldn’t face them alone. With her friends by her side, she felt ready to meet the challenge of fate.

The church loomed ahead, its worn stones weathered by time but still standing strong against the biting winds of Frostholm. The heavy wooden doors creaked as Hilda pushed them open, revealing a simple interior bathed in the soft glow of lanterns. The scent of old wood and faint incense mingled in the air, blending with the chill that seeped through the cracks in the walls.

“You can rest here for the night,” Hilda said, her voice warm despite the fatigue on her face. She pointed to the pews and a side room where a few hastily prepared beds had been laid out. “It’s not much, but it’s safe and quiet.”

“Thank you, Hilda,” Star said, bowing her head slightly.

The group entered the small room, each finding a corner to relax after the trials of the day. Friedrich collapsed onto one of the beds with a long sigh. “Finally, something soft to lie on.”

Siegfried sat on a nearby bench, polishing his shield while Klara checked her catalyst, small sparks of electricity dancing between her fingers. Star leaned against the window, gazing out at the snow-covered village as Boreas’ distant voice echoed faintly on the wind.

“Good night, everyone,” Star murmured softly.

“Good night,” her friends echoed, their voices heavy with the weariness of the day.

As the lanterns flickered and sleep slowly claimed the weary heroes, the snow outside whispered a truth Star could no longer ignore...
Tomorrow, her journey would no longer walk beside a legend.
She had to become one.