Chapter 1: Eternal Winter [1]
"Put your back into it!"
"Yes, sir!"
Sixteen years was a long time for anyone to become fully acclimated to a new reality, and Ilya had long since accepted that there was no returning to the world he once knew.
Back then, Ilya had barely entered his first year of high school before he was suddenly thrust into a world of swords and magic.
It was the kind of fantasy countless teenagers dreamed of experiencing, the sort of impossible adventure people could only imagine while staring out the classroom window during a dull afternoon lesson.
As if that alone weren’t surreal enough, Ilya eventually realized that this world was the very same setting as the romance fantasy traditional novel, ’Why Is the Heroine Interested in Everyone Except Me?’
The revelation was absurd in its own right, made even more so by the fact that the work had thirty Chapters, and he had managed to read merely the first eight before his sudden transmigration.
As a result, his understanding of the story barely extended beyond its opening. He had little more than small pieces of details, a handful of important names, and vague recollections of the events that were supposed to unfold.
And unfortunately for him, he had not been reborn as the crown prince, the heroine, or even one of their close companions.
Because, unfortunately, fate had assigned him the role of one of the romance’s most despised antagonists.
"Ilya! Get out!"
"Yes, sir..."
"That’s his fifth injury this week, isn’t it?"
"At this rate, I’m starting to think he enjoys getting beaten."
"What a waste of House Belozersky’s bloodline."
Finding himself in the infirmary once again, Ilya lay motionless on the bed as he stared blankly at the ceiling.
Ever since enrolling at the academy, being dragged here had practically become part of his daily routine, to the point where even the physicians no longer looked surprised whenever he showed up.
Born not as the story’s protagonist, but as an antagonist hopelessly vying for the heroine’s affection, he could not help but wonder what exactly the point of his reincarnation had been.
Ilya Valentinovich Belozersky, the second son of the Northern Grand Duke of House Belozersky, was a character infamous among readers for all the wrong reasons.
Arrogant, prideful, and convinced that the heroine belonged to him by birthright, he spent the better part of the original story interfering with the crown prince’s romance, earning the hatred of nearly everyone who followed the novel.
Many readers jokingly referred to him as the "professional homewrecker," while others admitted that every Chapter featuring him only made them want to see him punched even harder.
Naturally, his fate was never a pleasant one.
After repeatedly attempting to drive a wedge between the protagonist and the heroine through petty schemes, fabricated rumors, and abuse of his family’s influence, every one of his misdeeds was eventually exposed before the imperial court.
Stripped of his reputation, disowned by his own family for disgracing House Belozersky, and abandoned by the nobles who once flocked around him, Ilya disappeared from the story altogether.
"Fortunately... none of that is going to happen..."
After all, he had not reincarnated halfway through the story when everything had already been set in motion, but from the very moment of his birth.
Sixteen years of preparation were more than enough time to avoid every death flag that had been waiting for him.
And with the memories of his previous life intact, Ilya had long since vowed that he would never walk down the same miserable path as his original counterpart.
As for the heroine, he honestly failed to understand what all the fuss had been about in the first place, because while she was certainly beautiful, there were countless women throughout the Empire who were just as pretty, if not even more so.
"I knew I’d find you here."
Ilya slowly turned his head toward the familiar voice, only to see a young woman standing by the doorway.
"Elise..."
Elise Margaux de Beaumont.
The daughter of one of the Empire’s most influential ducal houses, the heroine of the original novel, and, unfortunately for him, his childhood friend.
"It’s been three months since the semester began, Ilya," Elise said as she pulled a chair beside his bed and sat down. "Are you still not going to tell your family?"
"Tell them what? That their precious son turned out to be a failure?"
"Tell them that the sword simply isn’t for you. Honestly, Ilya, how many more times are you planning to end up in the infirmary before you admit it to yourself?"
Growing up, Ilya had been regarded as nothing short of a child prodigy.
Retaining the memories of his previous life gave him a tremendous advantage during his early years.
It allowed him to learn faster than his peers, speak more eloquently than most adults, and display a level of maturity that constantly earned the praise of nobles and instructors alike.
Combined with House Belozersky’s centuries-long legacy as the Empire’s greatest family of swordsmen, it was only natural that everyone believed he would one day inherit that tradition.
However, even prodigies eventually reached their limits, especially when they had never been genuine prodigies to begin with.
Once everyone else began catching up, the illusion gradually fell apart.
Despite everything he had accomplished during childhood, Ilya had never possessed any talent with the sword in the first place.
"It’s fine, Elise. Father doesn’t expect anything from me anymore, and we both know I’ll never be the heir anyway."
"But that doesn’t make this okay!"
"At least... I should do this much for Mother. She’s the only one who still expects something of me, and I’d rather disappoint myself than disappoint her."
"Even so! How many broken bones is it going to take before you realize that you’re proving nothing to anyone?"
Elise was genuinely furious.
For months on end, Ilya had become nothing more than the target of ridicule among his peers.
Every humiliation became another source of gossip for the academy’s noble students, many of whom eagerly spread stories of the once-celebrated prodigy who could no longer live up to his family’s name.
To them, watching the son of House Belozersky stumble from one failure to the next had become a form of entertainment.
What infuriated Elise the most, however, was the sheer hypocrisy of it all.
Many of those same lower-ranking nobles who openly mocked Ilya in the academy would bow their heads the moment they stood before the Belozersky family, showering the Northern Duchy with nothing but praise and flattery.
Yet the instant his son was out of earshot, those respectful smiles disappeared, turning into laughter and contempt.
"...Do you want me to come with you?" Elise asked. "Do you want me to speak with Lord Valentin in your place? If it’s difficult for you to say it yourself, then I’ll do it!"
"Haa... You’re so loud, Elise. I’m the one lying injured here, remember? Ah, ah, ah... my ears are in pain now. I think you’ve made my condition even worse."
"I don’t get you at all..."
Elise ultimately gave up and walked out of the infirmary. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Ilya alone with nothing but silence and his own thoughts.
"...."
After sitting in silence for several minutes, Ilya finally pushed himself off the bed and stretched his stiff body before making his way toward the exit.
"..."
As always, the moment he looked around, the world before his eyes was once again submerged in ice.
Frost slowly spread to the walls, the windows, and the stone floor as though winter had swallowed the academy whole.
The freezing landscape looked so vivid and so tangible that, had he not known better, he would have believed he had somehow been transported back to the far north.
This phenomenon had only started occurring recently, and no matter how many times he asked the people around him what was happening, they all reacted the same way.
They simply stared at him as though he had lost his mind, "What in the world are you talking about?" as if there were nothing unusual to see.
Not a single person acknowledged the frozen scenery that had become an everyday sight to him.
But this was no hallucination he could simply brush aside.
Twenty-four hours a day, Ilya felt a biting chill that should have been impossible outside the Northern Territories.
Worst of all, whenever the cold became particularly intense, even the ground would freeze solid, forcing him to watch every step as the icy surface became slippery.
More than once, he had nearly lost his footing simply because an invisible layer of frost had spread across the path.
It was as though winter itself was constantly following him wherever he went.
"It’s fucking cold..."
No matter how many layers he piled on or how heavily he bundled himself up, the cold never truly left him.
The amount of clothing he wore had become so excessive that the other students had started looking at him as though he were insane, wondering why anyone would dress for a blizzard in such pleasant weather.
They could laugh all they wanted, but to Ilya, every passing day felt like he was standing in the middle of the northern tundra.
Stepping outside the academy building, where classes were still in session, and the surrounding grounds were noticeably quieter, Ilya made his way toward the stone bridge overlooking the river.
Resting his arms against the railing, he looked down at the flowing water below as a thin layer of frost gradually spread across its surface.
Despite its frozen appearance, the river continued to flow under the ice without slowing in the slightest, as though whatever was happening existed only on the surface.
Ilya leaned farther against the railing before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette, placing it between his lips.
A small flame flickered to life at the tip as he lit the cigarette with a lighter, and after taking a long drag, he exhaled a cloud of warm smoke that slowly dissolved into the freezing air.
"Hoo..."
The heat carried by the smoke spread through his throat and into his lungs, giving him a fleeting sensation of warmth before the cold replaced it, leaving him exactly as chilled as before.
Still, those few precious moments of warmth were enough to make him reach for another.
Most people smoked for the nicotine, the taste, or the momentary sense of relaxation that came with it.
Ilya, however, did it because every inhale carried a warmth that his body could no longer seem to produce on its own.
"Skipping classes isn’t a good habit. I’ve overlooked it before, but at this rate, it’s starting to become a concern."
"Uh?"
Ilya turned around, the cigarette still resting between his fingers, only to find an unfamiliar woman standing a short distance away.
Black hair that didn’t go past her shoulders. A pair of crimson eyes that seemed to pull him into their depths.
Judging from her refined attire, she clearly wasn’t a student, yet she looked far too young to be one of the academy’s senior professors.
"Professor...?"
"Teaching Assistant."
"Ah... my mistake."
Ilya silently regarded her for another moment.
Having spent the past three months in the Knight Department, he had already familiarized himself with nearly every instructor, professor, and teaching assistant assigned there.
So the fact that he had never seen this woman meant she probably belonged to the Magic Department.
"Give me one."
"Huh?"
Before Ilya could even process what she meant, the woman casually reached into the cigarette pack in his hand and pulled one out for herself, slipping it between her lips.
He stared at her blankly for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his lighter, intending to offer it to her.
To his surprise, however, she made no move to take it as the woman stepped closer until only a short distance separated them.
Leaning forward, the tip of her unlit cigarette met the burning end of the one between Ilya’s lips.
"Suck it."
"....?"
Still confused, Ilya did as he was told and slowly inhaled.
The woman inhaled at the same time, and the glowing ember from his cigarette transferred to hers before steadily spreading across the tobacco.
Within moments, the tip of her own cigarette flickered to life with a warm orange glow, and she exhaled a thin stream of smoke into the freezing air.
"...!"
Ilya remained perfectly still throughout the entire exchange, too bewildered to react until she finally took a step back.
"Tsk." She clicked her tongue after taking another drag. "Not good at all. And here I was wondering what kind of premium cigarette was tempting you to skip classes this often."
Ilya lowered his gaze to the cigarette in his hand before letting out a chuckle.
"Sorry to disappoint you. It’s just an ordinary brand you can buy at any corner store. Nothing special."
"I can tell. If you’re going to ruin your lungs, at least have the decency to spend money on something better."
"Uh-huh. Sure."
Silence settled between them as they stood side by side on the bridge.
Ilya still couldn’t make sense of the unusual woman beside him.
Still, strange or not, company was company. He didn’t particularly mind it.
Eventually, the woman broke the silence herself.
"By the way, you’re clearly a wizard. Unless you enjoy wasting your time, you should leave the Knight Department."
"...What?"
Ilya slowly turned toward her.
For a moment, he wondered if he had misheard her over the wind, but the woman remained completely composed, as though she had merely stated an obvious fact.
"What did you just say?"
"Hm? I said you’re a wizard."
"...."
Ilya genuinely had no idea what she was talking about.
Never before had anyone told him this before, and during his childhood, he had already explored that possibility himself after realizing the sword simply wasn’t suited for him.
But that had never been the case. He had no talent for magic either. As far as Ilya had been concerned, he simply wasn’t gifted enough for either path.
"Your Domain... I’m not entirely sure what it is, but it’s clearly overlapping with mine to some extent. There’s no reason part of my world should begin freezing in weather like this, so the only explanation I can think of is that it’s your Domain interfering with mine."
"...."
Ilya’s eyes widened in disbelief as his cigarette nearly slipped from between his fingers.
"...You can see it?"
"Ah, no. Not exactly. It’s more accurate to say that a portion of my own world is freezing over, which shouldn’t be possible under normal circumstances. But that’s beside the point—"
"You can see it? The ice? The frozen landscape? What about the frost that’s trying to encase me—Mmph!"
"Whoa, easy there."
Before he could finish, she raised a hand and covered his mouth.
"Domains are a wizard’s most precious weapon," she said. "Revealing information about it this carelessly is the same as exposing your back to an enemy before a duel even begins. Has no one ever taught you that?"
Only after finishing her warning did she remove her hand.
Ilya instinctively touched his lips before looking back at her.
"...I’ve never received any formal magical education," he admitted. "Domain... so that’s what this is?"
"Yes. A Domain is the manifestation of a wizard’s viewpoint. For you to have unconsciously manifested one without ever receiving proper magical instruction... and at a scale like this... You must be a natural-born talent."
"...."
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, someone had looked him in the eye and told him he possessed talent instead of shortcomings.
To say the words filled him with excitement would have been a lie, because years of disappointment had already removed whatever expectations he once held for himself.
Even so, hearing those words from someone who sounded so certain left a faint warmth in his chest.
"Hey," Ilya said. "Tell me more. What exactly is happening to me?"
The woman’s gaze slowly traveled across his body, eyeing him with far greater scrutiny than before.
Her eyes eventually settled on his exposed hand, where faint traces of frostbite had already begun crawling along his fingertips.
"Ah..." she murmured. "So you’re one of those..."
"Pardon?"
"A Fallen Wizard."
"...?"
Ilya could only stare back at her blankly.
Every answer she gave only seemed to produce two more questions, leaving him even more confused than when the conversation had begun.
Meanwhile, the woman maintained the same composed expression, as though she were merely explaining an ordinary fact.
"The fact that your own power is hurting you is proof enough. Your Domain has already begun consuming its owner instead of remaining under your control. That’s the hallmark of a Fallen Wizard."
"...."
Ilya instinctively looked down at his frostbitten fingers before slowly clenching them into a fist.
The numbness, the endless cold, the frozen world that no one else could see, and the cigarettes he had grown dependent on just to feel a trace of warmth... all of it suddenly seemed to fit together into a single explanation.
"Someday, you’re going to die an inevitable death."
"...."
"Such is the fate of all Fallen Wizards."
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