What she saw was not a human figure nor anything she had ever encountered before. She knew of magic, of the ancient techniques that gifted life to crafted beings, the art of shaping golems from clay, stone, or iron but this.. this presence.. was different. The snow golem before her did not feel like a mere construct. She could not explain why, but something within him radiated a strange authenticity, as though he possessed a true soul, not one bestowed by magic, but one born naturally, as if he had always existed.
“Ah, hello. You must be one of the people Pacheco mentioned, right?” the snow golem said, his voice carrying an unexpected warmth.
“Oh, what’s the matter, Konoe?” Pacheco turned toward her