Wilhelm now sat in his dorm. It was not quite large but not quite small either—just the right size. The bed was equal to his height, and the washroom had both hot and cold water. A clock ticked nearby, along with a table and chair, and beside the door, a tablet attached to the wall allowed him to select his destination within the academy.
A piece of paper on the table had already been read by Wilhelm. It essentially stated that classes would commence tomorrow, as he could infer from the clock. Now, as he sat on the bed, he couldn't help but let out a sigh. A lot had happened today, and to say that Wilhelm wasn't affected would be wrong. He was still reeling from the shock of his experiences, yet his curiosity urged him to think more—just a bit more.
Wilhelm knew why his curiosity was piqued: the dream. The person in the frost world had spoken to him, had seen him. How could he not think about that?
What had first seemed like nothing more than an odd imagination now felt cohesive, significant—like it held some deeper meaning. He had to know more.
"The best way for me to know is to sleep." With this, Wilhelm lay down and shut his eyes. This time, the person had sensed him, and recognized him. It wouldn't be surprising if tonight's dream turned out to be different.
Wilhelm soon drifted off, his body grew cold, his breathing becoming significantly weaker.
Unbeknownst to him, there was another visitor in the room.
"Let us see whether this gift can help you." Karsus's chuckle echoed softly.
Meanwhile, Wilhelm found himself once again in the dream of the frost world. The figure he'd seen before, with a bare back and a symbol—a circle—etched upon it, stood in front of him. The symbol appeared clearer than in previous dreams.
But this time, there were no corpses—only the endless tundra and the person.
The figure seemed aware of Wilhelm's presence. Turning, his blonde hair stark against the icy realm, he fixed Wilhelm with a knowing gaze.
"So, it's you," the man spoke as he eyed Wilhelm.
"Who are you?"
Wilhelm wanted to ask, yet the moment he tried to open his mouth, he found he couldn't.
"You want to talk? We'll talk, but first, a change of environment." The man spoke calmly, snapping his fingers.
Instantly, the great tundra faded, giving way to a throne room formed out of the frost, with two seats in the center.
"Yes, now let's talk," the man spoke, looking directly at Wilhelm.
Wilhelm nodded as he sat down alongside the man.
"Who are you, where am I, and why is this happening to me?" Wilhelm immediately blurted out three questions.
The man was silent for a few moments before he answered with a sigh.
"The answers to your questions are as follows. I am a dead man whose remnants are sealed inside your mind. You are inside your own mind, and I have no idea why you, in particular, have been used to trap me."
Hearing this, Wilhelm only grew more puzzled.
"You're dead? So... you're a ghost?" Wilhelm asked.
"You could say so. The original me died a very long time ago and has been reincarnated countless times since. What I am is just a wisp of the original, you could say, a shard. My original identity has without a doubt been erased by The Sovereign." The man sighed.
Hearing the mention of the Sovereign, Wilhelm was stunned.
Everyone in Paradise had been taught about The Sovereign's identity: The Demon King, The Original Sin, Master of Chaos, Nightmare King, and Almighty Terror were just a few of the titles the folks back in Wilhelm's hometown, called The Sovereign by.
The story of The Sovereign said that once, when God lived among mortals and all was prosperous, The Sovereign rose from the depths of hell and waged a long war against God and 'His' followers.
In the end, God banished The Demon King to a prison that forever shielded mortals from harm. Occasionally, The Demon King would send his Generals into Paradise to destroy it, and God's greatest warriors, The Saints, would be there to stop that.
As if the man could hear what Wilhelm was thinking, he burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! Is that what they're teaching you these days? That? I expected them to have a bit of modesty, but it looks like they went all in! Hahaha!" The man laughed continuously and didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon.
"What do you mean?" Wilhelm was confused.
"Oh, my boy! You have no idea how horrifying that 'War' was! Hell, that wasn't even a war—just a slaughterfest! Billions died by the second! Gods fell every moment, and the only ones who weren't immediately destroyed either fled or became The Sovereign's slaves! Let me tell you this, boy.
Your goal isn't meant to be the strongest. No, you can never achieve that. You only have to accomplish a single goal—the goal that those who live today followed. Survive. Because nothing else matters in the face of The Sovereign."
The man eventually calmed down and explained.
Wilhelm, hearing this, was shocked.
"Just how powerful is The Sovereign?!" This question now plagued Wilhelm's mind.
"Well, now that that's over, I'll explain a bit more about this place," the man said, glancing at the frozen tundra that had been his home.
"It seems that the person who sealed me inside you also sealed portions of my power as well. This power is what made that mirror assume you have an Attribute. This power is this world of ice, which I like to call Niflheim." As he spoke, the man raised his arm, and the world fell still.
"Niflheim doesn't contain any powerful skills, and the only thing it can actually do is materialize into a corporeal form. You can borrow its cold, though you should be aware that, from my calculations, prolonged usage of Niflheim will freeze you to death," he explained.
"Wait, that's all it does? Nothing else?" Wilhelm was stunned.
"That's already enough to make you seriously overpowered compared to your peers. And if you're wondering how I know all of this—I'm reading your memories," the man added.
Wilhelm, already overwhelmed, could only sigh.
"Oh, wait—there's one more thing I've got to ask. What's that circle on your back?" Wilhelm couldn't help but inquire.
"Oh, that? I don't know for certain, but I presume it's the seal placed on me," the man replied.
Seeing that there was nothing else to say, Wilhelm sensed himself waking from the dream, his movements growing sluggish.
"I'll see you the next time you sleep, Wilhelm," the man said with a grin as Wilhelm's body began to fade.
Just before he vanished, Wilhelm asked one last question, "How may I refer to you?"
The man paused, then chuckled. "My original identity is gone, so referring to it would be meaningless. Call me Polaris. That's all you can call me, after all."
With those words, Niflheim faded away.
———————————————————————————————————————
As Wilhelm woke up, he was shocked to find the bed he'd been sleeping on soaked through with ice-cold water.
"What happened?" he muttered, blinking his eyes open, only to find a sharp icicle hovering dangerously close to his face.
"What the—!" Wilhelm shouted, instinctively rolling off the bed and landing hard on the floor.
CRACK!
A sharp pain flared in his head, jolting him fully awake.
Groggy but alert, he started to look around, only to discover that the icicle wasn't the only issue—the entire room had frozen over in layers of frost.
Rubbing his aching head, Wilhelm took in the frozen chaos surrounding him. A deep sigh of resignation escaped his lips. Just one sleep, and now he had a whole mess to clean up.
"Great," he muttered to himself.