Ais Wallenstein was a swordsman. The person who taught her to use a sword had told her that a sword is a swordsman's life, and that no matter the situation, she should never let go of her sword!
But now, Ais could only stare wide-eyed as her sword slipped from her grasp, falling to the ground with a mournful clang.
It had all been an accident. As a member of the Loki Familia, she had been on a deep-level expedition into the Dungeon. On their return, they encountered a Minotaur, and one managed to escape.
Wallenstein pursued it to the ninth floor and decisively killed it when it tried to attack innocent adventurers.
It was an accident, perfectly resolved by Wallenstein, but…
Why had this happened? This adventurer… was he a master swordsman from some Familia?
If so, why had he been cornered by a single Minotaur?
If not, how could she explain what had just happened? He had actually caught her sword slash. The moment her weapon was caught, a terrifying chill spread along her sword, instantly numbing her delicate hand, making it feel nonexistent.
For a swordsman to drop her sword, it was undoubtedly a great disgrace.
Even more frustrating for Wallenstein was that her hand hadn't recovered; the frostbite seemed severe. She couldn't even pick up her weapon.
Who… was this man?
Wallenstein cautiously observed Arthas, who seemed clueless about what had happened, watching him bend down to pick up her sword, his lips slightly pursed in a look of slight distress.
"Um…"
Though still confused about what had happened, Arthas knew this girl had saved him.
Regardless… he should apologize.
"Um… your weapon?"
But Arthas was puzzled; the girl seemed afraid of him, cautiously backing away as he approached.
Wallenstein was indeed afraid of Arthas; she didn't want to experience that terrifying cold again.
Though she'd lost all feeling and thus, pain, she had felt an unbearable, searing pain the moment the cold invaded her. It felt like her soul was being torn apart.
Fortunately, the numbness had come on instantly, making the pain as quick to vanish as it was to appear.
Looking at her hand, Wallenstein frowned slightly. It looked normal, except for a thin layer of frost covering her skin, like a crystal glove, beautiful like a work of art.
Wallenstein knew this severe frostbite was dangerous, instantly destroying all the nerves in her hand. She could safely say her hand was ruined.
She hoped that someone could heal it.
Thinking this, Wallenstein looked up and questioned Arthas.
"Who… are you?"
Her indifferent tone wasn't due to her personality but to her lack of social skills.
As Wallenstein and Arthas stared at each other, Arthas also examined the goddess-like girl before him.
Her beauty rivaled Hestia's. Her slender figure was clad in light blue armor.
The soft curves visible beneath the armor were breathtakingly beautiful.
Her slender, supple body possessed a surprisingly full bust. She wore silver breastplate with an emblem, matching gauntlets and accessories.
Her straight, flowing golden hair, extending to her waist, shone with a brilliance that rivaled the sun.
Her extremely cute, charming baby face was set on a figure that would make other women envious.
And her eyes held a captivating warm golden hue.
"Um… who am I?"
Arthas paused, momentarily at a loss for words.
He sensed her faint hostility but didn't know its source.
"Um, are you alright? Let me see your hand."
Noticing the unnatural state of her hand, Arthas stepped closer, gently taking her frost-covered hand.
Wallenstein flinched, almost instinctively slapping him away.
Fortunately, she didn't intend to harm Arthas; otherwise, that slap could have seriously injured him.
It's numb… What's the point of looking?…
Even with Arthas holding her hand, Wallenstein felt nothing. She pouted cutely, glaring at Arthas.
Fine, look all you want. I want to see how you'll heal my hand.
Her hostility unknowingly subsided. She realized Arthas didn't intend to harm her; he seemed just as confused as she was.
"Eh…"
Soon, however, Wallenstein felt something strange. A slight coolness touched her hand, which should have been completely frozen.
It wasn't cold; it was pleasantly cool.
Wallenstein tried to move her fingers, discovering that feeling had returned to her hand.
"How… did you do that?"
Wallenstein stared at Arthas, surprised and puzzled. She hadn't felt any healing magic. Just holding her hand for a moment had healed the severe frostbite. It was incredible.
Arthas blinked, unsure how to respond. But he knew it must be connected to his magic, Unclean Frost.
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