MTO C21

Chapter 21

“But… killing someone is still a sin.”

“Killing a demon is a sin too?”

At Heart’s derisive snort, Alice pressed her lips shut and glared back at him. Before the two could clash again, Oliver hurried to interrupt.

“Heart is right. Taking life is a sin, but if we leave things as they are, we’ll all end up dead. We should tell Sister the truth first, and then the other children too.”

Alice hesitated, but in the end she nodded. Oliver let out a sigh of relief. They couldn’t bring Leon into such a dangerous scheme—he was far too young. That was why Alice’s cooperation was crucial.

“Sister will definitely believe us. But until we have a proper plan, this must stay our secret. Especially—don’t tell the twins. They can’t keep secrets.”

Oliver’s tone was firm as he instructed the others. He especially warned Heart not to take action on his own. Heart simply gave a dismissive nod as if bothered. Leon, who hadn’t understood at all, nodded only because Heart had. Thus, a secret was forged among the four of them.

“Oliver! Alice! Heart! Leon! Where are you?”

“Yes! We’re coming now!”

At Barbara’s voice drawing closer, Oliver called back loudly. The children scrambled to their feet, but Heart threw himself onto a corner mat in the storage room, turning his back.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“I’d rather starve to death.”

Oliver didn’t press. He simply took Alice and Leon by the hands and led them out of the storage room.

On the way to the dining hall, they whispered frantically about how to persuade Sister without letting the headmaster notice. But the short walk wasn’t nearly long enough to hatch anything solid. At the door, Oliver and Alice exchanged a silent wish of good luck.

“You’re all here! Take your seats!”

But their tension proved pointless: the demon headmaster and the monstrous knight were nowhere to be seen. Only Sister Barbara welcomed them sweetly, as always.

“Where’s the Headmaster?”

It was Charlotte, who had arrived earlier, who asked. She was one of the children who genuinely believed the story that the headmaster had met God.

“The Headmaster and Sir Knight are outside in the yard clearing snow. Truly a lot fell during the night. Let’s all thank them later.”

At her words, Oliver secretly exhaled in relief. He often acted tough before the others, but inside he was just as afraid.

Alice leaned close, her hand cupping Oliver’s ear.

“Should we tell her now?”

“If we do, and he walks back in, it’s over. Let’s wait.”

Alice accepted with a tiny nod, straightening her posture as though nothing were amiss.

Before entering, they had agreed only to pretend to eat for now. They still feared that eating heartily would make them fatten up and more “valuable” if sold.

But in front of real food, resisting was hard. Oliver managed to leave half his soup unfinished, while Alice forced herself not to touch the bread even as she drank all of hers. Pushing spoons away was difficult, but far worse was enduring Barbara’s gentle urgings to eat more.

Afterwards, stomachs still gnawing, Oliver and Alice trudged out clutching their bellies. Just two days ago, a few spoonfuls of soup had seemed to fill them. But now, having eaten properly, it was as if their hunger only deepened.

Why is it harder to bear, now that we eat daily? Oliver wondered grimly, and forced himself to think instead about strategies.

“Ah! Leon!”

While the two conversed, Leon suddenly bolted forward, slipping from Alice’s hand. He dashed straight to the base of the stairs where other children had gathered. Oliver and Alice raced to catch up.

“What’s this…?”

Oliver froze. There, blocking the staircase, stood a massive snowman.

“It’s huge!”

“Who built this? Did you?”

“Not me! Then who? Why is there even a snowman indoors?”

The little ones squealed with excitement, jabbering endlessly. Leon pressed both little palms against the cold figure and giggled brightly.

Truly, the snowman towered over them. With stick arms poking out its side, it was absurdly oversized and fat for an ordinary snowman. Even the strongest man couldn’t have moved one like it indoors alone. Oliver and Alice exchanged a sharp look.

“Hello there, children.”

The voice came from the snowman—a low, gravelly murmur. The twins shrieked and stumbled back in fright. Charlotte cocked her head curiously.

“Who was that? Who spoke?”

“It’s me—the Snowman Mister!”

“The snowman speaks?!”

Charlotte cried out, and the others joined in excitedly like a gaggle of noisy geese. Oliver and Alice alone stiffened in dread.

“Alice, stay here.”

“Oliver!”

“It’s fine.”

He crept around behind the snowman, away from the others’ eyes—and found, crouched low, none other than the demon headmaster himself. Oliver nearly screamed, but the man pressed one finger to his lips, warning silence. Oliver clamped his own mouth shut in terror.

“Snowmen melt when they get warm, don’t they?”

Dan asked nervously.

“Right. That’s why someone has to take me outside to play. Today’s lovely weather!”

The headmaster, huddled and hamming a strange voice, answered them.

What in the world is he doing? Oliver had never seen anything so bizarre.

Michel noticed Oliver rigid with shock and clasped his hands in a begging gesture. Just once—please, keep this secret. Finally Oliver jolted and turned back quickly.

“What was there?” Alice demanded—but Oliver remained silent.

Meanwhile, the children bombarded the “snowman” with questions.

“How will you walk? Snowmen don’t have legs.”

Max asked again.

“My friend will help.”

“Friend?”

“Yes, me! The snowman’s good friend.”

When they turned, the monstrous knight was there. David smiled faintly, though he looked weary.

“And in fact, the snowman has yet another friend.”

At his words, they saw the headmaster himself step forward.

“The Headmaster!”

Charlotte ran forward and threw her arms around him. Michel scooped her up and laughed.

“Everyone, bundle up! Let’s go sledding!”

“Yay!”

The twins bolted upstairs for coats, Charlotte scampering after, and even Leon followed with squeals of joy.

Only Oliver and Alice remained, rooted to the spot. A moment ago their secret plotting had made them feel bold enough to topple the “demon” headmaster. Face to face, their minds went blank white.

“Oliver, Alice—you’re not coming?”

As Michel approached, Alice flinched back. Oliver tugged her behind him protectively.

“We’ll just fetch our coats.”

Before he could question, Oliver hustled Alice upstairs. Only in their room behind a locked door did Alice finally exhale.

“Do you think it’s safe to go outside with him?”

“We’re not fattened yet. We’ll be fine.”

Oliver whispered, donning the cardigan Barbara had knitted years ago from rare yarn.

“If something happens, we must protect Sister and the others.”

Alice’s blue eyes trembled, then, steeling, she nodded.

Together they bundled the younger children, fastening buttons with solemn care. Heart still hadn’t appeared.

“Be careful.”

Oliver warned as they left the room.

“You too.”

Alice whispered back.

And hand in hand, they descended—one step closer to the demon waiting below.

“Hold tight!”

“Kyaaahaha!”

Michel dashed over the snowfields like a wolf unleashed. On the rope‑and‑sack sled he’d crafted, Charlotte and Leon rode, cheeks red from the cold, laughter bubbling endlessly.

Across the yard, David dragged a sled carrying the twins. Annoyed at first when Michel had built a snowman, David had yielded when he saw the children’s joy—and now worked earnestly as a human reindeer.

His sled was twice as fast. The poor twins clutched for dear life, dangling by their grips, yet beaming with delight.

“Ladies and gentlemen! We have arrived at your destination!”

Michel skidded to a halt after a wide loop. Charlotte and Leon tumbled off rolling in laughter.

“Next!”

He turned to Oliver, who merely stiffened and shook his head.

“M-me? No, I’m all right.”

“Really? Then Alice wants to ride?”

But Alice shook her head quickly too. Pale already, her face looked near ghostly against the snow. Michel rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

Not fond of snow, perhaps?

Unlike the younger ones who rolled gleefully about, Oliver and Alice stood stock still, wide‑eyed, hands untouched by snow. They looked for all the world like schoolkids forced onto a hated summer camp by their parents.