Don Quixote's Delusions (6)

The scene spread out before my eyes.

Beyond the door I had flung open, a pure-white space awaited us.

Ding-!

[The apostle ‘Archjudge of the Withered Winter’ is gazing at you.]

[Your trial begins.]

It was a courtroom.

A courtroom that seemed to have been carved from winter itself.

Frost clung here and there, while profuse snowflowers hung decorously.

The judge's bench was carved from an iceberg, and a large set of scales stood before it.

‘More than I expected···.’...