[8] Snow

The road stretched endlessly beneath the wheels of the carriage, the steady rhythm of hooves on dirt lulling the travelers into a quiet peace. The journey had been long, but Violet never tired of watching the world pass by.

She sat close to the window, hugging the demonic wolf—her kitty—tightly in her arms. Its large, fluffy tail swayed lazily as it yawned, content with its fate as a glorified pillow.

Callian, on the other hand, leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed and his eyes half-closed. The moment was peaceful, but he had learned long ago that peace was never permanent.

Then, Damien spoke.

"You and Violet should go to the duchy first."

Callian cracked one eye open. " Pardon?"

Violet turned to her grandfather in surprise. "Grandpa's not coming?"

Damien sighed. "I have business to attend to in the capital. I will come later."

Violet's face fell. "…Oh."

The sight of her little pout made Callian snicker. "You look like a sad kitten."

Violet pouted harder. "I just thought we'd go together…"

Damien reached out, ruffling her silver hair. "Even in hell, I will find my granddaughter back. This is just a temporary separation."

Violet still looked reluctant, but she nodded.

Callian, however, seemed far too pleased. "Then we'll go first. Don't rush, Grand Duke."

Damien narrowed his eyes at him. "You're awfully happy about this."

Callian smirked. "What, can't a Grand Duke like you survive without my guidance?"

Damien scoffed, but the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. "Just take care of Violet."

With that, their paths split. Damien continued toward the capital, while Callian and Violet took the road to the western duchy.

Violet, already distracted, bounced excitedly in her seat as they moved forward. She hugged her kitty closer, her feet swinging back and forth.

The journey was peaceful, with rolling hills and stretches of golden fields. The scent of fresh earth filled the air, and Callian let himself relax.

That was, until Violet suddenly pressed her face against the window, eyes wide.

"Papa! Look!"

Callian glanced lazily in the direction she was pointing. A towering cathedral stood in the distance, its white marble walls shining under the sun. Outside, people in golden and white robes moved with quiet grace.

Priests.

Callian's expression didn't change, but his fingers curled slightly.

Violet, still staring, tugged at his sleeve. "Papa, who are they?"

"They're priests."

"Priests?"

"They serve the gods."

Violet tilted her head. "Like… real gods?"

Callian sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Yes, little princess."

Violet's eyes sparkled. "Can we go see?"

Callian hesitated.

He was not fond of gods.

After all, his system had titled him God Slayer for a reason.

He had killed 72 demon kings and 13 gods.

He had cut them down one by one, until the heavens bled and the world shook.

But then he looked at Violet, her innocent curiosity shining in her violet eyes.

"…Fine."

The carriage slowed, stopping near the entrance of the grand cathedral. As Callian stepped down, he immediately noticed the way the priests and nuns glanced at him—at his noble-like aura, his composed posture, his confident stride.

They already assumed he was someone important.

Nobility Charisma.

Callian sighed. This skill really was too convenient.

He reached into his pocket, placing a handful of gold coins into the donation box. The head priest's eyes widened slightly at the generous amount, but Callian ignored him.

His attention was on Violet, who eagerly ran toward a kind-looking nun.

The nun smiled, kneeling to meet Violet's height. "What brings you here, little one?"

Violet beamed. "I wanna learn about the gods!"

The nun's smile widened. "Then you've come to the right place."

Callian stood back, watching as the nun gently guided Violet toward a large mosaic on the cathedral walls. It depicted three goddesses, each holding a different symbol.

The nun pointed to the first.

"This is Elyndra, Goddess of Wisdom. She is the keeper of knowledge, the one who grants enlightenment to those who seek truth."

Violet's eyes widened. "She looks smart."

The nun chuckled. "She is."

She pointed to the second goddess.

"This is Seraphina, Goddess of Mercy. She is the embodiment of kindness, the one who eases suffering and grants forgiveness."

Violet tilted her head. "She sounds nice."

Callian remained silent.

The nun finally pointed to the third figure—a blindfolded goddess holding a golden scale.

"And this is Isolde, Goddess of Justice. She stands for fairness, truth, and divine judgment."

Callian's golden eyes flickered toward the statue.

Violet's gaze followed. "Why is she blindfolded?"

The nun smiled gently. "Because justice must be impartial. She does not judge based on sight, but on truth."

Violet nodded thoughtfully.

Callian, however, scoffed quietly.

What a joke.

Blind justice? Impartial judgment?

He had seen this exact setting before.

Back in his previous life, his sister had written about three goddesses who invoked destruction. In the end, they were never gods of virtue—they were the ones who doomed the world.

And here, in this world, it was the same.

They were the real villains.

The ones who watched as people suffered.

The ones who let fate run its course, no matter how cruel it was.

He exhaled slowly, stepping forward. "Violet."

She turned to him.

"It's time to pray."

Violet clasped her hands together eagerly. "Okay!"

She shut her eyes, whispering softly.

"I pray that I can stay with Papa forever… and that I can have more strawberry cheesecake… and that my kitty stays fluffy forever…"

Callian smiled slightly. "Greedy, aren't you?"

Violet giggled.

Then, as she continued her prayer, Callian turned toward the statue of Isolde.

And he stared.

A blindfolded goddess. A symbol of justice that did not see.

How ironic.

He had been through this before.

In his past life, he had fought against gods who claimed to be righteous, only to find that they were blind to the suffering they caused.

He had been judged, condemned, and discarded.

And yet, he had survived.

He had killed them.

And now, even in this world, gods still sat on their thrones, dictating fate from above.

He clenched his fist.

Fate? Justice? Balance?

He didn't care.

He had already changed fate once.

Violet was supposed to be born from a common drunkard father. She was supposed to have brown, commoner's eyes.

But she had his.

And if the gods ever tried to take her away—

If they ever dared to lay a hand on his little princess—

Then he would burn their thrones to ash.

He exhaled slowly, pressing his hand against the stone floor.

"I pray," he murmured, "for nothing."

For whether this world would prosper or fall—

Whether it would burn or drown—

He did not care.

Because the moment the gods reached out to touch his daughter's fate—

He would cut them down.

Just like he did before.

*****

The journey to the duchy had been smooth. Too smooth.

Violet, nestled in Callian's arms, had fallen asleep halfway through, her small fingers curled into his coat. She had spent most of the trip playing with her kitty, her excitement never waning. Now, her silver hair spilled over his arm as she dozed peacefully, her breath warm against his chest.

Callian leaned his head back against the carriage seat, eyes half-lidded.

He should have known it wouldn't last.

Because the moment they arrived at the Grand Duchy of Ashville, a massive iron gate blocked their path. The towering stone walls stretched endlessly in both directions, and the large crest of the Ashville family gleamed proudly on the entrance.

And, of course, the guards at the gate were already looking down on him.

One of them, a particularly smug-looking man in plated armor, stepped forward. "This isn't the place for commoners. You must be lost."

Callian sighed.

Ah, of course.

Even after the Grand Duke himself brought them here, these guards still wanted to act like this?

Another knight, one of the ones who had been escorting them from the capital, stepped forward with a smirk. He wasn't in a rush to clarify things either. No, he was enjoying this.

He wanted Callian to be humiliated.

Callian closed his eyes briefly.

The old him—the S-rank hunter, the man who had once torn through demon kings—would've already thrown these fools into the snow.

But now?

He exhaled through his nose. He had Violet in his arms.

Violence wasn't necessary.

…But pettiness?

Oh, he could absolutely be petty.

Just as Violet stirred, blinking up at him sleepily, Callian shifted her weight in his arms and gave a dramatic sigh.

"Well, what a shame."

Violet yawned. "Papa?"

Callian turned to her with a lazy smile. "It seems we can't enter, little princess."

Violet blinked in confusion. "Why not?"

"The knights said so." He smirked, giving her a reassuring pat. "So we won't."

The knights frowned, exchanging glances.

Callian didn't wait for them to process what he meant. Instead, he adjusted his grip on Violet, picked up their luggage with one hand, and turned on his heel.

He walked away.

Just like that.

As if he had never even considered begging.

As if the Grand Duchy meant nothing to him.

As if the Ashville name had no power over him.

And he meant it.

Let them be arrogant. Let them believe they had the upper hand.

Because, truly—who cared?

His 'father-in-law' could shove his title where the sun didn't shine.

They weren't allowed to enter? Fine.

Then they wouldn't.

He could take Violet and disappear.

No obligations, no politics, no Ashville nonsense.

Freedom.

Callian felt his smirk grow as he stepped further and further away from the duchy.

Behind him, the knights and guards stood frozen, staring in disbelief.

"…Wait."

"Sir—"

"H-He's leaving?"

They had expected resistance. Protests. Anything but this.

But Callian?

Callian was already gone.

Violet, still groggy, peeked over his shoulder. "Papa, where are we going?"

"Somewhere better," he said smoothly.

She blinked at him, then at the falling snow. "It's so white!"

Callian chuckled, shifting her weight so she could sit higher in his arms. "It's snow."

Violet gasped. "Snow?!"

Her sleepy confusion melted away, replaced with pure excitement.

"Papa! Look! It's fluffy! Like kitty!" She squirmed until Callian finally let her down. She landed in the thick snow with a soft puff and immediately began stomping around, giggling.

Callian adjusted the strap of their luggage over his shoulder, watching her with amusement.

For Violet, this was her first winter.

She had never seen snow before.

Her violet eyes sparkled as she twirled, letting the snowflakes land on her cheeks. "It's cold!" she declared.

Callian smirked. "That's because it's winter, princess."

She cupped some snow in her hands, staring at it in awe. Then—

She gasped. "Papa!" She ran up to him, holding out her little handful of snow. "It's disappearing!"

Callian raised an eyebrow. "That's because it's melting."

Violet stared at the tiny puddle in her palm, her mouth forming a small 'o' of realization.

Then she gasped again, eyes lighting up. "Then I'll make a big one so it won't disappear!"

She immediately plopped down into the snow, determinedly gathering as much as she could.

Callian watched her for a moment, then sighed and looked up at the sky. The snowfall had grown heavier. They needed shelter soon.

He spotted an inn nearby, smoke rising gently from its chimney. The warm glow from the windows was inviting.

He looked back at Violet.

She was now face-first in the snow, giggling wildly as she kicked her legs.

Callian shook his head with a small laugh.

He stepped forward, reaching down to scoop her up.

"Alright, enough rolling around, little snowball."

Violet squeaked as he lifted her, her arms flailing. "Papa! My snow isn't big yet!"

"You'll have plenty of time to make one later." He adjusted her in his arms, brushing the snow off her coat. "Right now, we need a place to stay."

Violet huffed but didn't protest. Instead, she buried her face into his chest, her little fingers gripping his coat.

"…Is it warm?" she mumbled.

Callian's expression softened.

"Yes," he murmured. "We'll be warm soon."

—

The innkeeper greeted them with wide eyes.

She was an elderly woman, wrapped in layers of wool, and she immediately mistook Callian for a noble.

"Oh my, my lord—!"

"I'm not a noble," he said smoothly, cutting off whatever flattery she had been about to spill.

The woman blinked. Then, her gaze flickered to Violet, who was peeking out from his arms.

"Oh, how precious…" She softened, smiling kindly. "Come in, then. You must be freezing."

Callian gave her a small nod before stepping inside. The warmth hit immediately, wrapping around them like a thick blanket.

Violet sighed happily, nuzzling against him. "Warm…"

The innkeeper chuckled. "You're just in time. The fireplace is going strong tonight."

Callian placed a few coins on the counter. "A room for the night."

The woman accepted them quickly, glancing outside. "You made the right choice, sir. The storm will only get worse."

Callian hummed, his thoughts drifting briefly. If the duchy had just let them in, they wouldn't even be here.

…But he didn't mind.

He would rather be here than there.

He carried Violet up the wooden staircase, her small hands gripping onto him like a sleepy kitten. Once they reached their room, he set their luggage down and turned toward the bed.

He placed Violet down gently, brushing a few strands of silver hair from her face.

"Comfy?" he asked.

Violet nodded sleepily. "Papa… will it still snow tomorrow?"

Callian smiled. "Yes."

Violet grinned. "Then we can play more?"

He chuckled, tucking the blanket around her. "Yes, princess. We can play more."

She yawned, her little hands curling into fists.

"…You're not mad?" she mumbled.

Callian tilted his head. "Mad?"

"That they didn't let us in." Her voice was soft, drowsy.

Callian blinked.

Then, he smiled.

"Not at all," he murmured.

Because in the end, what did it matter?

The Ashville Duchy didn't matter.

The only thing that mattered was Violet.

And she was here.

Safe. Warm.

Happy.

Callian leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Sleep well, princess."

Violet hummed softly, already slipping into dreams.

And outside, the snow continued to fall.