River felt the cold edge of the blade pressing lightly against the back of his head. Still, he chuckled, raising both hands in a show of surrender as he slowly turned around to face her.
"I already told you," he said with a calm smile, "I know the future."
Freya's expression remained unchanged—cold, calculating. "Did I tell you my name?" she asked, her voice flat but suspicious, the grip on her sword never loosening.
"Freya Forman," River said smoothly. "You possess a Skill called Snow Sword. You're the leader of the underground network known as Snow Web. An orphan who was bullied because of her white hair. You burned down the orphanage in retaliation—but you didn't kill anyone."
Freya's eyes narrowed. Her body didn't move, but her presence grew heavier. River could feel the chill in the air deepen.
