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Let me turn my emergency light on.

The shimmering light dispels the darkness, revealing the thing that is blocking their path.

Huh? An ice sculpture? Why's it crawling across the ground?

It's not the only one.

Look, there's another one there... Hmm, seems like there's even more of them this way...

They're clothed the same way the ancient peoples of Kjerag are described in historical records, but did those people have the technique to sculpt like this?

Craft and sculpture of the time were cruder. Enya, what do you....?

Enya?

I am afraid that these are not statues.

They're not?

They are... past Saintesses.

They are from the last time Kjeragandr vanished. They who offered themselves up as sacrifices to beg Her to return to Kjerag.

Enya brushes her fingers against a 'sculpture's' face. Her wrinkles. Her flesh. Her cheeks puffed up by gritted teeth. Her eyelashes. Her tears staining her cheeks, unevaporated.

A girl dead from hypothermia, her delusional relief and trembling from the cold merged into a single expression.

They were encased in ice after their deaths, preserving their faces and postures. They were... all looking in the same direction.

They were all looking for Her... answer.

The women follow the gazes of the 'sculptures', turning to look behind them.

...What is that? I've never seen anything shaped like that in Kjerag...

It is Kjeragandr.

It is what the people of the past saw... and also—

Its height and scale are far beyond ancient techniques. It couldn't possibly be a relic of the past...

But this cave has been sealed off for ages. Who did this, and why...?

A frigid wind from nowhere, laden with fine snow, slams into them.

Enya, look out!

The statue is... calling me.

The sound of a beating heart gradually becomes an ear-splitting din. She cannot hear the shouts of her companions, not even her own breathing.

The only thing her senses take in is the statue's icy radiance, alongside an irresistible urge—

The moment the Saintess's hand strokes the base of the statue, a great shock envelops all present. A vibrant scene rushes into the Saintess's mind...

...Gah, where'd it go hiding now?

I <i>just</i> saw it—its shadow darted through the grass and vanished. Did I lose track of it again?

Past experience advises her to stoop down. She was still a child the first time she set foot into the forest. What was it her father taught her then?

'Listen up, Joanna.'

'Hunting isn't easy. You need to be careful, you need to be brave, you need to be determined, and you need to be merciful.'

'You need to pay attention to the tracks left by every animal.'

'Footprints in the snow, scratches on bark, fallen hairs, spoor and traces of buried food...'

She walks by an expanse of snow, trees and bare soil. Still no sign of her prey.

Her gigantic prey, nearly the size of a small mountain, seems to have disappeared into thin air.

'Don't rush, even if you can't find anything. Don't rush... Joanna.'

'You're a hunter. You'll find your game.'

'For She has promised you that you may enter the forest with bow and crossbow, and the forest shall give you the meat and fat you require. You—'

I see it, over there!

The shadow fleeing out from the underbrush is swift, shooting out over the trail towards the depths of the forest on the other side.

The girl waves her arm behind her as she shouts.

Dad, head into the forest from the side, let's pincer it!

A voice replies from the empty forest.

Go, Joanna! You and me, we'll catch it!

'Go, you'll catch it.'

'You're such a faithful girl, never missing prayers or ceremonies, always concentrating when you carve statues of Her, even telling Her your thoughts every night.'

'She will grant you a full belly, happiness, and a tomorrow to wake up to. Because of your piety, and the time you have given Her.'

If... Hah, if I can actually hunt that thing down....

We won't have to go hungry this winter!

It'll be enough to feed my brothers and sisters, and I can even... I can even give some to the old lady next door, and the lady who just had a baby across the road...

The horns can be carved into figures of Kjeragandr, and the skin can be made into a new set of clothes for my sister.

There is a warmth in her chest to go with her joy, as if something were swelling within, fit to burst.

Her legs are faster than ever. Her hands do not tremble. She closes in on her prey.

Nearly... Nearly got it!

Please, bless my hand, Kjeragandr...

Her crossbow bolt flies through the air, its scream shattering the serenity of the snowfield.

The girl sprints after her quarry into a bush. She can almost reach its thick fur—

Ah...

There is nothing in her grasp.

Only a chunk of Originium crystal in her arm, growing like wildfire.

What use is your faith?

Kjeragandr will not protect you. The land shall have its fill, and you are but its prey.

This room is very familiar to me. Though I have never seen it, I am well aware of what this is.

The cramped, gloomy room is filled with the scent of pine oil, thick to the point you can barely walk through it. It is joined with a dry heat that resists description.

This is one of my thoughts.

The old man gets up from his chair. He steps forward, as if he were about to measure the size of the room with his feet.

One step, two steps, five steps, ten.

Ten steps. Ten is enough.

A narrow compartment. Soundproofed, insulated, unknown to others. Suited for clandestine discussions.

If I had put it that way, if I had extended the invitation that way, then the Silverashes...

What did I say when Luca came to meet with me?

Did I advise him to not commit this unpardonable sin, or did I not? Did I advise him to return to the righteous path, or did I not?

Did I agree with him, or did I not? Did I believe the new things that couple brought with them would destroy the soul of Kjerag, or did I not?

Did I tell him how to build a hidden room within the parlor of the Browntail manor, or did I not...?

...Did I tell him how to store pine resin, flammable materials, dry wood and firestarters, or did I not?

The fragrance intensifies, to the point that it stings the nose.

You forgot our deal.

Brother...

You were supposed to take control of the Vine-Bead Court and work with me, so that all of Kjerag would serve under the Browntail name.

Why are you always such a do-nothing coward?!

No... It wasn't supposed to be like this...

You know how much blood is on our hands just getting us to this point.

Look at these two girls, Ratatos and Sciurus. They're your own flesh and blood.

You're not going to close your eyes as the Silverashes and Paleroches put them to the sword when they grow up, are you?

All my life, I have told many lies, cheated many people.

Including those I love, and those who love me. Those I trusted, and those who trusted me...

I once sincerely believed that great power was the answer to everything.

But I was wrong.

My decades in the Hall of Writings washed my heart clean of my arrogance and stupidity. I understood that the only thing left in my life was a mission.

A mission to serve the truth, the very virtue that Kjeragandr carved upon each and every one of our souls.

And so, to repent deeply...

For the injurious plots against my neighbors. For my despicable tearing away of parent from child. For my lust for power. For the lies that poured from my deceitful tongue.

If... If Kjeragandr truly existed, how could She ignore all I did?

Fire. A fire from out of nowhere.

Or rather, it is a fire lit decades ago. A well-crafted trap that has finally found its prey.

A fire that has burned for thousands of days finally sweeps in furiously, engulfing all that Adso sees.

...Get out of here. It was us who found this unfreezing lake first!

Nonsense, we were the ones who found it first. Our brains and agility let us look out from atop the tallest branches, so we're the real masters of the lake!