The lake water rushed into the ears under unreasonable pressure, emitting a painful buzz.
The brain seed to be frozen by this cold lake water, unable to think about anything.
It felt just like being dead.
...No.
This feeling was even worse than death.
If one were dead, wouldn't they be unable to hear anything, unable to feel anything?
The tragic thing was that this pain she felt was proof of being alive.
Powerless as ti passed, leaving only deep regret.
So lonely... so very lonely...
......
As soon as she opened her eyes, large teardrops rolled down her face.
"What's wrong? Do you feel unwell sowhere?"
A warm hand was placed on her forehead.
"...Mama."
After waking up, Bebe threw herself into Elsa's embrace with a tearful voice.
"That person... is crying."
"Did you hear that voice again?"
The little one nodded with a choked voice. Lying on Elsa's shoulder, she looked up at her surroundings, only then realizing that she had sohow been moved inside a tent.
From the temporary reception room just a wall away ca the sound of adults discussing.
"I apologize... Lady Yvonne, this was originally an internal matter of our tribe, yet we've involved that child..."
Mondo expressed deep apologies to Yvonne.
"There's no use saying these things now, right? Thinking about how to solve the problem is the most important thing."
"You're right..."
"Is this all of it?"
"Yes..."
With only a few sheets of text inscribed on animal skins left from hundreds of years ago, and the description of the Lake God being a re cursory account of no more than 50 characters in total, Yvonne found it very headache-inducing.
Beastfolk did not have the habit of recording their history in writing like humans.
For past events, they relied more on stone carvings or handicrafts to record.
The problem was that after so many years, with daily exposure to wind and sun, even the stones had weathered. Items made of plant fibers like linen and handicrafts had long since rotted and decayed. Myths had been continuously exaggerated through oral transmission. Trying to find clues from these broken remnants was like fishing the moon from water or seeking fish in trees—completely impossible to start.
Since the voice continued to reach that child's ears, it proved that the 'Lake God' would not give up.
A drowning person, if they grab onto a straw, will certainly try desperately to hold on.
It was still very early outside. Yvonne took a sip of the coffee Elsa had brewed with boiled snow water, forcibly suppressing the drowsiness about to surge forth, and lowered her voice:
"...This should be the plot of a high-difficulty event."
"'High-difficulty event'? What's that?"
This was the first ti Elsa had heard this term. But now she could identify new vocabulary from 'that world', because basically all of them sounded utterly nonsensical.
This was undoubtedly the plot of the winter high-difficulty event in "Wings of the Heart
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