Bostain's Predicament
Eira sat facing her father, lost in thought. He had brought her here in the hope that her late return to the convoy would leave her vulnerable to harm. In turn, she had stayed to buy time for the vigilantes to gather evidence of the merchants' crimes. Knowing they both shared the same intent—to stall for time—filled her with a wry irony.
Before her grandfather's death, when she was young, her father rarely lingered in the territory. He roamed the outside world, handling diplomatic duties—securing aid from other domains or selling goods to earn coin. They seldom met back then, but she had admired him. She thought he worked tirelessly for the territory. So, until her grandfather passed and disappointment set in, she had always tried to understand him. She rationalized his refusal to avenge her grandfather, his gaze fixed on the center rather than the North, believing there must be some hidden reason.
But as she grew older and encountered more men like him, she realized her father was just a foolish, vainglorious noble. She abandoned her efforts to understand him.
"Can't you let go of that foolish dream?"
"Is it that way? Calling a noble's duty a foolish dream?"
Eira's sharp retort drew a subdued response from the lord.
"My father and brothers died striving to uphold that duty."
"Even so, do you think they regretted it that way?"
At her words—that even if slain by monsters, those who upheld their duty would have stood proud—the lord gave a bitter smile.
"You don't understand."
"What don't I understand!"
Eira snapped, but her father closed his eyes as if he had anticipated it, speaking reluctantly.
"The Empire exists for its citizens."
"Isn't that obvious?"
"Yes. Because the Empire exists for its citizens, it sacrifices the few to protect the many."
Bostain hadn't existed before the Magic Realm emerged. The land where it now stood was no place for a domain. Nestled in a basin at the heart of the mountains, blocking the passes from the peaks to the plains, Bostain had been built in a spot difficult even to maintain from the start, let alone develop.
"Do you know how our domain's founder earned his title?"
"For blocking monster waves descending through Bostain with a handful of men."
Proudly recounting it, Eira watched her father's face twist in disgust.
"Originally, this was just a fortress belonging to a larger domain."
Most of Bostain was mountainous terrain—unsuited for farming or crafting, plagued by blizzards that made resupply a nightmare. Granting independence here was tantamount to abandonment. So the first Lord of Bostain secured promises of aid from neighbors upon independence: food and weapons in exchange for guarding the path from the Magic Realm. And he held the line fiercely.
The founder had pushed back the Magic Realm so far that much of Bostain's current borders bore his mark—he was an exceptional lord. But not all tiger cubs become tigers, and without fresh blood, even tigers weaken. As Bostain held strong, neighboring domains began skimping on support. Deliveries grew tardy and sparse, then irregular, until they framed it as mere benevolence rather than obligation.
After that, Bostain could no longer push back the Magic Realm's incursions.
"The Bostain line has barely survived generation after generation."
Older houses refined their bloodlines internally. They wed talented commoners into branches while main lines mingled with elite noble stock. Magic aptitude was hereditary, so nobles intermarried to boost affinity in heirs suited to their secrets. But Bostain could scarcely manage it.
An isolated domain under constant monster assault lacked resources—and standout talent anyway. Even prodigies died young in battle, replaced in a ceaseless churn. Other nobles saw no need to offer prime bloodlines; they tossed their weakest daughters like scraps.
Yet amid such trials, lords strove to defend the land—until the sight of their firstborn shattered them. They couldn't condemn that fragile child to die battling monsters in this frozen hell, no matter their ancestors' endurance.
"I could never pass this slow death sentence to my children."
His eyes burned with a different sense of duty.
"This place is a lingering death. Even a genius lord who expands it can't sustain the gains and perishes; a mediocre one simply yields and dies."
Eira fell silent before this unfamiliar side of her father.
"Why say this now!"
Her outburst born of shock drew a relieved smile from him.
"Didn't you say you're leaving the Bostain line? Don't let this impossible burden in the frozen North weigh you down. Spread your talents. You have gifts—and beauty. You'll carve your place anywhere."
"Even if Father says so, it doesn't change how irresponsible that is to the people."
"It doesn't matter. I'm sorry to the folk, but I chose you over them. If filth or dishonor stains me so you can live, I'll bear it gladly."
Before his unyielding resolve—a first for her—Eira had no reply.
----------
Having successfully rounded up three merchants, Eira couldn't hide her bitter heart. She had rooted out the territory's corrupt traders and prepared to purge their inept, rotten vassals.
But would that truly fix everything?
She had believed eliminating these parasites would solve it all. Yet even restoring Bostain to her ideal form, it seemed destined to sink slowly. A frigid land unfit for crops, pressed against the Magic Realm—monsters would keep coming, growing fiercer the more it pushed back. Yielding brought Magic Realm chills that froze out humanity. Maintaining the status quo meant gradual attrition until collapse.
No solution came to mind.
Sinking into her chair, Eira stared blankly into space, her expression hollow, soul adrift.
"Something wrong?"
Suhyun had come to congratulate her return, only to find her dazed.
Seeing his face brought tears.
"Lord Suhyun."
"Wh-what's wrong?"
Accustomed to her steadfast pride and unshakeable convictions, Suhyun panicked at her sudden tears.
"Is Bostain fated to crumble slowly in the end?"
Eira poured out what her father had told her. Lords who granted independence to an untenable land, unwilling to fund its defense themselves. A northern economy that extracted profit through Bostain without support. A domain not holding steady but inexorably crumbling. She wept like an orphaned child.
Comforting her sobs, Suhyun said,
"Want help?"
"I have nothing left to give Lord Suhyun."
She had already offered her body. If he said strip and stop crying, she would—what more was there?
Wiping her tears, Suhyun replied,
"Don't worry. I'll squeeze it out of someone else."
-------------------------
Make the North Great Again
Bostain Territory, guardian of the North, was created from the start for other nobles' gain.
The promises made at Bostain's founding were abandoned long ago. Exploited by neighbors preying on its weaknesses and ever-stronger monsters, Bostain cannot endure much longer.
As predetermined doom closes in, you have arrived.
Can you avert Bostain Territory's fated end?
📍 Conditions: Sustainable development of Bostain Territory
🎁 Reward:[Skill: Eternal Freeze]
-------------------------
Bostain was a total mess. First, the treacherous paths made outside links grueling. Hauling food alone burned fortunes; prices stayed sky-high, deterring hunters and mercenaries.
Second, monsters. The northern snowfields offered scant prey—humans were prime: tender flesh, sweet blood, a delicacy. Warm settlements beckoned beasts too. Instinct drove them to expand the Magic Realm, crossing mountains—and funneling straight to Bostain at the passes.
Third, the cold. Even summer saw unmelting snow from Magic Realm influence; winters killed despite acclimation. Frostbite claimed fingers and toes among elders like clockwork. Folk hunkered indoors; meanwhile, monsters bred unchecked.
Casual glances missed it, but now Suhyun understood why Eira's father wanted out. No answer here meant leaving was the answer.
Suhyun projected a 3D map of Bostain on his computer, pondering solutions.
"How to fix this?"
Initially, walls, a mage tower tapping ley lines for a semi-permanent barrier—raise internal temps, block outer beasts. But snow depths killed that. Unmelting buildup; one avalanche would topple any fortification.
Powerful enchantments? The quest demanded sustainability. His spells faded without upkeep.
Cold-attuned martial arts? Without his Mind-Body Unity, dantian formation would drag forever.
No answers. As Suhyun agonized, a wild idea struck.
"Could this work?"
Firing up the calculator, he crunched numbers. It solved transport, monsters, cold—all of it.
Sure, it'd tax him—but quests meant grinding sometimes.