“This…are you really sure you’re going to do this?” Risti asked, looking at the map spread out on the table. “If you provoke the Moons this openly, you might not succeed at all. They’ll send interceptors. It would have been far better if you simply killed off everyone instead; at least the Moons can pretend that they didn’t see you.”

Claud drummed his fingers on the table. “Yeah, well, I don’t like the idea of killing innocent people.”

“They’re Moonlit. You can drop your moral compass and everything, you know,” Risti replied.

“Really?” Claud narrowed his eyes. “Then did the little Moonlit babies waddling around Licencia back then feel like monsters that needed to be killed? Or did you see them as normal children?”

She twitched once. “In that case, you must know that this may very well be a one-way trip, right?”

Claud nodded, but this was the least of his concerns. This was his Second Tutorial, his tribulation. He hadn’t really seen the tribulation bit so far, but he had a feeling that the actions he took in this illusion had to count for something. Everything had to have a reason; this choice of his, the extra-hard choice, was probably a result of him desiring to maintain his current state.

“I’ve always been embarking on one-way trips, you know.” Claud smiled. “That’s the person I am, I suppose. Staying alive is important, but living as one’s true self even more so.”

Risti looked at him. “Your true self, huh. You speak like you have that luxury at times. I suppose you have, though. You’re the strongest mortal in the world. If you can’t be your true self, I suppose no one can. In fact, with all this power, you’ve had the privilege of breaking through tough choices by carving out a third road of your own, right?”

For some reason, Claud had the feeling that she was alluding to something else. Then again, with his current level of power, this Risti had probably guessed that he was the one who took out the Moon Emissary and the Third Bearer of Destiny.

He didn’t confirm or deny it, however, and instead said, “Perhaps.”

Claud couldn’t explain to Risti that this was a world generated for the Second Tutorial, since he would literally be killed for it, and this Risti wouldn’t notice anything odd anyway.

“Alright, carry on being mysterious then.” Risti rolled her eyes. “Don’t you dare die on me, though. I’ll have nightmares of Lily scolding me if you do.”

“Do you still remember how everyone looks like?” Claud asked, his voice equal parts curiosity and caution. “Or is it just a blur?”

“Hmm…”

As Risti thought about this issue, Claud calmed his drumming heart. In that moment he asked that question, a sensation of death had engulfed him. For some reason, the Second Tutorial that had flawlessly built this world from the bottom up had some issues with the appearance of everyone. It didn’t make sense, seeing as how people that Claud had never seen before appeared in this tribulation with no issue, but…

Why would the Second Tutorial react in such a way anyway?

“I guess I do,” Risti eventually replied. “I can’t quite remember everyone, though. Some of their finer details are busy and everything. Schwarz, for instance…I can’t pinpoint that smile of his anymore.”

Claud looked at her quietly. Even if this was an illusion, the emotion she was displaying here was so vivid, so realistic that Claud himself nearly forgot that this whole thing was an illusion cooked up for him. “It happens. After not seeing their faces for a long time, everything tends to become blurry. That’s why I dream and dream. I don’t want to forget her.”

His mouth stopped moving for a moment, but Claud already knew that the Frozen Emperor had obtained control over this body, even if it was only for this instant. Driven to insanity with his grief, but acutely aware of the consequences of his inaction, the Frozen Emperor probably wanted to explain his actions to someone that would understand.

This topic had provided the perfect opening.

“To never forget…but even in your dreams, your memory of Lily and the others is supplemented by yourself,” Risti murmured.

“I know,” the Frozen Emperor replied. “I want to go back to sleep, but I’ve been given this rare opportunity. I…don’t want to waste this chance of setting right what went wrong. But I don’t want to lose the memory of her smile and her touch either.”

“In that case, why do you insist on such a method?” Risti asked. “Killing everyone would be f—”

Claud wrested back control of his body, and then shook his head. “I’ve already lost many things. If I lose a bit more, I’ll be an empty shell.”

“I see.” Risti nodded. “True. If you lose your compassion for the commonfolk, you probably won’t tolerate the existence of so many settlements around your Frozen Coffin.”

Claud nodded. He didn’t dare to speak now, not with a subliminal struggle occurring in the depths of his consciousness. The Frozen Emperor, as expected, didn’t like his plan, which was death-free but time-consuming. In a sense, the Frozen Emperor represented a him that had given himself over to one extreme, but…

What exactly was that extreme?

Claud couldn’t quite tell.

“Are you alright?” Risti asked. “Or do you need help somewhere? Maybe you should rest. Giving up more than nine-tenths of your lifespan is probably not a very good feeling, is it?”

“I’m a bit tired, yes.” Claud forced down the weakened, lingering will — or rather, a strand of the Frozen Emperor’s will — and rubbed his eyes. With any luck, all this would end after he secured sufficient living space for the people here. While he didn’t quite understand what the idea of imposing his own order was here, Claud knew that there was a key aspect of his plan that was truly the key to his order.

Stifling a yawn, Claud said, “Can I have another bowl of that soup first? I think I want to give a few more sips.”

He also wanted to learn the recipe and exact make too. There was a reason why this odd, savoury soup had taken Rimestar by storm under the worst of circumstances. If he learned the recipe and spread it as far as possible in the outside world, he could potentially save quite a few lives.

After all, this soup was now the staple of the resource stricken Rimestar. This meant that the base materials were probably fairly hardy and its production method easier than most.

“More Somi soup, huh?”

“Somi soup…that’s its name, huh?” Claud bobbed his head. “Can I have a look at the recipe? I wonder who came up with it.”

“Good luck finding out,” Risti replied. “The recipe came from the same place as the recipe for fizzy drinks.”

“Celestia?” Claud asked. “Right, what happened to the Celestia Ruins?”

“That’s a good question. I don’t know the answer, unfortunately. The team we sent out didn’t chart that far into the Nihila Sovereignty, and the terrain changed drastically too. Maybe Celestia drifted off into areas that they couldn’t check,” Risti replied. “Anyway, what do you want with the recipe? I don’t think dreaming Frozen Emperors can make soup, especially without the raw materials.”

“Just tell me the production method from start to end, okay?” Claud replied. “And besides, I need to replicate the whole thing in my dream or something.”

That last bit, naturally, was a lie.

“Is that how your dreams work?” Risti asked. “I thought dreams are places where your desires are instantly fulfilled. Why do you need to know the production method?”

“The dreams I live in are realistic dreams,” Claud improvised. “What’s the point of dreaming if I can’t make myself believe in it? I want to…”

“Let Lily know about this soup, huh.”

Risti’s voice carried a wistful quality. “Some people may be dead, and yet they live forever in the hearts of others.”

“Is that meant to console me?” Claud muttered, before shaking his head. “Anyway, it’ll be great if I learned the way to make that soup, so do bring me around the place. Or at least get me someone to show me around the place. I still can walk.”

“…I suppose you’d do anything for her, huh?”

Claud, who knew that this whole thing was just an illusory reality, couldn’t help but feel that Risti’s praise for his apparent devotion to Lily, who was actually still alive in the real world, was a bit misplaced. In fact, he didn’t quite know how to respond to her heartfelt admiration towards his actions, since they were standing on two fundamentally different viewpoints.

“Sorry,” Risti muttered.

“Sorry?” Claud asked, before coming to a realisation. “Don’t be silly. There’s nothing you need to be sorry for.”

Risti looked at him again, that troubling gaze full of praise in her eyes once more.