Once again, breakfast was Somi soup, but this time, there were some unusual additions to it. Claud, who had spent the rest of yesterday touring the production facilities for the soybeans and the kitchens to learn the many variations of Somi soup, immediately knew that there were some special ingredients added into today’s breakfast.

“What’s the occasion?” Claud asked, glancing at Risti, who had actually got up for breakfast. He had never seen her do that, but again, he had only seen her in this false world for less than a week. It was too small of a sample size to make any generalisations, but Risti herself had already said she had the habit of sleeping in.

“You, obviously. We have a lot of new tetra-folders now. With the focus on purely increasing their mana circuits, we will soon welcome an enormous batch of hexa-folders, each mightier than the next.” Risti smiled. “We’ll just need some luck, and maybe we’ll have our first or two ennea-folders.”

Claud nodded, before grimacing. “I’m wondering if my own course of action will bring you guys bad luck, though. You’re right; I’ll be provoking the Moons…I’m wondering how my actions will affect you guys.”

“But you’re trying to make a point to people, right?” Risti smiled.

A small chill ran up Claud’s spine, and he looked at Risti. “You…”

“You don’t like the kill or be killed atmosphere in Rimestar, and you want to teach the next generation that there are things that are more important than just power. The will to use it, the importance of deception, and the usefulness of plots.” Risti fiddled with her soup spoon. “Am I right?”

“I guess that conversation gave it away.”

“For someone who’s lived for two hundred years, managing the little things and hidden messages, you’re quite the open book. But again, you never did really live for the past two hundred years,” Risti replied. “Just your hopeless dream for an ideal past. I envy Lily, you know. She lives in your heart…”

Claud felt a bit uncomfortable, but he didn’t show it. Turning away, he said, “This should probably be the last time the…me here will be talking to you. Whether the Moons take umbrage, or this personality remnant from two hundred years ago vanishes…”

He lowered his spoon and got up. “I suppose this is farewell, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so. But perhaps for different reasons.” Risti mirrored his actions and got up too. “The exhaustion I feel from waking up every day has me in its firm grip. I give it five years before I enter an eternal rest.”

“Even with the motivations I presented you?” Claud asked.

“Even with the motivations you presented to me,” Risti replied. “You may not wake up for the next two hundred or so years, but I do hope that you will take care of my family when you eventually wake up. Claud, the Frozen Emperor.”

“I’ll make a note before I rest,” Claud replied, before looking at his emptied bowl. “Walk me to the front door?”

“Always my intention.” Risti smiled. “It’s a shame you decided not to meet the other Seekers of Life, though. I know Aran and Caroline are dying to meet you.”

Claud laughed. “I don’t want to disappoint them, so I’m not going to meet them. After all, I’m fast approaching my limit. It would only make them feel sad to see me…die all over again.”

“In terms of personality, right? Right?”

“Of course. I don’t intend to physically die,” Claud replied, following Risti out to the mansion door. “Well then, I suppose this is it. Good luck, Risti.”

Risti stared at him, seemingly committing his image and appearance to memory, and then nodded. “To have talked to the Claud of the past, and not the Frozen Emperor of present day…I never thought the day when I could speak to someone from the Moon Lords would ever come again. I will never forget these three days in whatever time I have remaining.”

She took a deep breath. “Bon voyage, Claud.”

For a moment, Claud forgot that that this entire thing was just a trial, his mind moved by the sheer depth of Risti’s longing and nostalgia. Risti — this Risti in his Second Tutorial — had truly missed the bygone days of two centuries passed, from the bottom of her heart. It was unbelievable how her emotions were this real, and Claud nodded.

“You too.” Claud inclined his head. “You’ve…done great. Given everything that has happened, you’ve surpassed everyone else in your achievements leading up to today. Take pride in your accomplishments, Risti.”

Her eyes glittered with tears, and Claud turned away. “Goodbye, then.”

Mana erupted out of him, only to wrap around him like a swirling cocoon without disturbing the grass. Claud indulged himself in the feeling of his Transcendent-rank Mana Control Proficiency — he had been acclimatising himself with this sublime control for the past few days — and then lifted off the ground.

“Have a smooth journey!” Risti shouted.

Claud raised an arm and shot off into the distance. Ascending at speeds he never thought possible, he looked down at the snow-covered city of Rimestar. He had never seen snow before the Second Tutorial, and under the grey sky, the white snow covering the ground stood out.

A necessary ill in order to receive his protection…or rather, that of the Frozen Emperor’s.

At such a distance, the Cadenza mansion was already indistinguishable from the rest of the quiet city. People, who seemed like ants from his vantage point, hurried across the streets and headed back home, walking in crowds to bask in the warmth of a shared lantern. Occasionally, some of them would break off to buy food from the few food stalls around the area, and Claud couldn’t help but contrast this sight with the bustling cities of Lostfon and Licencia.

This was the last true bastion of humanity, and yet, Claud could tell that the spirit of humanity was already withering slowly. To combat that, Claud had given them two glitters of hope.

“First, the gift of my lifespan to the people who could truly use them,” Claud murmured. “Second, a grand spectacle and a light of hope that the Frozen Emperor is still alive and thinking.”

The air rippled with those words, and Claud nodded. The Second Tutorial was about to end soon, but if Risti hadn’t pushed him onto that path, he would still be dithering here and there.

At the same time, Claud’s intuition told him that failing the quest to evolve his Absolute One would cut off its advancement forever. While he would still be able to advance into a tetra-folder given a few more tries, his Absolute One would never be able to advance again.

“…Never advance again?” He twitched a second later as he understood the actual implications of that realisation, and Claud checked his status once more.

[Name: The Frozen Emperor — Claud Primus

Lifespan: 67145 years

Active Skills: Will of Solitude (11), Will of Freedom (11), Will of Captivity (11), Will of Purity (11) FiBoD:A??? (0), FiBoD:A??? (0)

Passive Skills; Divine Life Contractor (Inactive), Energy Universe, Omen of Entropy, Omniscience (False), Aeon Fold — Omen (14), All-Life Nemesis, Cornerstone of Coincidence, Dealer of Destiny, Lord of Stillness, Weaver of Wisdom

Mana Circuit Superimposition: 9.9999

Mana Control Proficiency: Transcendent

Comments: What was once frozen has now melted.]

Claud ignored the comments and looked at his Absolute One skill. He didn’t need his Omniscience — which was still inactive — to figure out that the Claud of this world had failed to evolve his Absolute One to the next level.

He gulped once, and then ran through the whole thing as he increased his flying speed. What was this Second Tutorial trying to tell him here? Why did this setting exist? By all accounts, the Frozen Emperor was a godlike being, someone with virtually no equal, and yet, this little stain had been left there.

Now that Claud thought about it, he hadn’t bothered to look through his status other than the time he arrived. Given what he knew of himself, that shouldn’t have been the case either!

This Second Tutorial had, in essence, forbidden him from knowing beyond what was necessary. It had indeed interfered a few times to prevent him from gathering certain pieces of information, directly or otherwise.

“However,” Claud muttered, “now that I’ve already made my choice and am ending the trial, the Second Tutorial has released my mind. Isn’t that the case?”

He smiled once. “Absolute One.”

As those words rippled through the air, the world began to grow white. The bleak Rimestar, the giant, crystalline diamond that was his Frozen Coffin…everything that once filled this world came apart into huge banks of white fog. At the same time, the awesome power that he had grown to wielding in the past few days began to weaken, and before long, the vast, impossibly dense mana he had gotten used to wielding began to fade.

The supreme rush of power, when contrasted with the feeling of growing weakness, was something he had never felt before. Something paradoxical, impossible.

And yet, it was the most suitable sensation for the end of the Second Tutorial.

The Second Tutorial was ending.

In the end, it was never about what happened next. It was simply the decision he chose here. In that case, if the Frozen Emperor had failed in this Second Tutorial…why exactly did he fail? Did he take too long to think about his choice? Or did he pick another choice?

What, in the first place, was the concept of failing here anyway?

Was the Second Tutorial actually seeking to see if he had the wisdom and courage necessary to make a choice when faced in such complex situations? If so, why?

He looked at the billowing fog and took a deep breath, watching as it engulfed him.