Chapter 220
Chapter: 220
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>Translator: penny
>Chapter: 220
>Chapter Title: Ice Heart (1)
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>“Kraaaah!”
Berseus let out a guttural scream as he shot up from his seat.
The punch he swung shattered a water pitcher, sending shards of dishes and food scraps flying in every direction.
“You filthy mongrel! How dare you, how dare you defy me!”
The marquess’s servants, who had been attending him at dinner, suddenly pelted with flying debris, screamed and clutched their heads.
Only after the banquet hall was left in shambles and even the sturdy oak table had splintered did the marquess’s rampage finally come to an end.
“Get out!”
The servants, trembling in terror, scrambled out of the banquet hall one after another.
*Grrr...*
Left alone to simmer down, Berseus growled low in his throat as he ran a hand over the nape of his neck.
The chilling sensation of a cold blade slicing through his throat lingered vividly even now.
“That damned thing...”
More than anything.
The image of that peculiar boy who had pointed his sword straight at him was strangely seared into his mind, refusing to fade.
What’s done is done, regardless.
Once his noisy outburst ended, the harsh realities flooded his mind like a rising tide.
‘...This throws a massive wrench into the plan.’
He had thought discovering the Nebraska bloodline was the end of it. But not only had he failed to kill the boy, he had lost every single Lycanslope he’d sent into the gorge.
Worst of all was losing Bazra, his kin.
‘Now there’s no kin left with the capacity to command the entire pack...’
Berseus didn’t turn every Lycanslope in the demon realm into his kin.
He couldn’t form kin bonds with each one individually, and constant contact with their corrupted minds would eventually taint his own.
Instead, he had made a select few powerful individuals his kin and controlled the rest through them.
Bazra had been the strongest among them, the only pureblood Lycanslope not of Nebraska’s bloodline.
Losing such a vital kin meant there was no telling how many Lycanslopes would now abandon the front lines on their own whims.
‘...No choice. Preparations are lacking, but I have to move while control is still possible.’
With that resolve, Berseus began issuing urgent orders to his remaining kin.
‘This is the perfect opportunity! Sweep all the nuisances into one place and make them perish together!’
He would throw the lives of every Lycanslope he could muster into the fray.
Until that perverse disturber of causality—and the cursed Nebraska bloodline—were utterly eradicated.
* * *
North of Sigismund Territory.
At a small outpost at the forefront of the glacial gorge.
The soldiers, who had been keeping watch anxiously ever since receiving the urgent message from the ice wall base, spotted a boy and a dog staggering over a hill and breathed a sigh of relief.
But when they went out to greet him, their faces drained of color in an instant. The boy was drenched head to toe in blood.
*Drip, drip.*
With every step he took, frozen crimson chunks fell like glittering jewels.
‘How is he even alive after losing that much blood?’
Noticing the soldiers’ horrified expressions, the boy wiped his cheek with his hand and spoke in a clear, innocent tone.
“It’s not my blood.”
Yes, of course it isn’t. It had better not be.
In a tiny outpost without even a doctor or a priest, that much blood on you would be a disaster!
“Lord Mores... is that you?”
One soldier hesitantly asked. They’d received the message, but this scene was too unbelievable.
The boy nodded gracefully.
“That’s right.”
His refined demeanor stood in stark contrast to his ragged appearance.
“Oh, and this is my dog, Max.”
There was a hint of pride in the introduction, met with a vigorous bark: *Woof!*
The soldiers exchanged incredulous looks. Every soldier in Sigismund Territory knew Max, the largest and most ill-tempered of the margrave’s hunting hounds.
*Pant, pant!*
The dog wagging its tail with such adorable enthusiasm—was that really the same unruly Max?
“Th-the rest of your party left the ice wall base early this morning, my lord. If you hurry, they should arrive here by late evening.”
The most senior soldier said in a trembling voice.
To think they’d end up hosting a Holy Empire prince in this rundown shack. As outpost commander, he had to offer what hospitality he could.
“It’s modest, but please allow us to escort you to your quarters.”
“Very well, thank you.”
And so, Prince Mores was led to a small ice tent.
“Please wait a moment, and we’ll bring a brazier right away.”
The soldier said, but the prince politely declined.
“Don’t you need to keep the tent flap open for ventilation anyway? I know how limited supplies are in a small outpost like this—no need to waste them on me.”
The soldier was deeply moved by the prince’s considerate attitude toward their outpost’s situation. Of course, he had no idea the prince carried a magical stone that worked like a hand warmer.
Afterward, the soldiers lingered around the prince’s tent for a while.
But the prince, whom they’d expected to be difficult to serve, made no further demands even past lunchtime, quietly spending time in his quarters.
‘Such a calm and gentle prince!’
‘If only my kid took after him half as much...’
Reassured, they returned to their posts.
Meanwhile, inside the tent, things were a bit different from what the soldiers imagined. Seongjin and the Demon King were chattering nonstop via telepathy.
[Playing the part well. You look like a total wreck.]
‘What can I do? It couldn’t be helped.’
He’d roughly wiped his face and hands with his eyes, but his hair and outer clothes, soaked in blood, had frozen solid. Shaking his head made red ice chunks crumble to the floor.
Seongjin brushed off the ice as best he could, then wrapped himself in a blanket and clutched the hand-warmer stone as he sat.
“Ugh...”
Not just his fractured ribs—there wasn’t a single unhurt spot on his body. And above all, he was freezing.
Max, who had been whining softly, quietly settled beside Seongjin.
[Why not do that? Warm yourself with aura.]
‘Hurts too much, man.’
That was why he hadn’t circulated any aura on the way here.
He’d overdone it during the fight, so now even a trickle of aura felt like it would shatter his body.
Better to just stay a little cold.
‘Maybe I should’ve used a bit of the aura in the channel...’
Seongjin thought, feeling the faint ripples still sloshing around his chest.
The reason he always pushed himself this far was his absolute lack of total aura compared to what was demanded. If he just used the channel’s aura, it would solve everything.
But for some reason.
Every time he tried to draw on it, a sense of crisis gripped him—the fear that starting would lead to something irreversible.
-Mores, remember this: if you draw water from the channel, the things on the other side will come with it.
Right. His father, the Holy Emperor, had warned him.
And Seongjin, more than anyone, knew not to ignore that warning.
‘Like Logan said, I just need to get stronger. No need to rush.’
With the hand warmer and the wolfhound’s help, his frozen body began to thaw bit by bit.
Feeling the delayed fatigue from his sleepless dawn crashing over him, Seongjin leaned against Max and slowly closed his eyes.
[That’s weird...]
*Dozing off.*
How long had he been drifting?
[...I definitely sense it nearby?]
Seongjin opened his eyes at the Demon King’s anxious mutter.
‘What? What is it?’
[No, just... I keep sensing a strange soul presence.]
The presence buzzed in and out of Seongjin’s mind restlessly.
[It’s so close I couldn’t miss it, but why can’t I see anything?]
‘Where’s it coming from?’
[From the stuff you picked up earlier.]
‘Hm, really?’
Then let’s take a look.
Seongjin sat up, and Max, who had opened one eye to glance at him, let out a huge yawn before laying his head back down.
Seongjin picked up the winter gear shoved in a corner and rummaged through the frozen pockets. Small trinkets spilled out onto the tent floor.
The magical stone from Logan.
The amulet and pendant from the labyrinth.
The small ornament from Bazra’s chest.
And the faintly blinking ice shard—a product of the Regular World that never melted.
The Demon King let out a hollow chuckle.
[Man, it’s absurd no matter how many times I see it. You had the presence of mind to grab these in the middle of that?]
The ice shard and Bazra’s ornament.
Seongjin had pocketed them one by one during lulls in the battle. Louise probably had no idea.
‘Especially this one—I had to grab it.’
Seongjin rolled the glowing ice shard in his hand as he replied.
After all, wasn’t this ice shard the very reason he’d started fighting the Lycanslopes?
‘What? Didn’t you want to see it up close too?’
[I did, but...]
I didn’t expect you to end up in such a pathetic state.
The Demon King grumbled but seemed to be carefully examining the trinkets.
[This one’s suspicious.]
Eventually, the Demon King singled out Bazra’s ornament: an intricate piece with lustrous beads on a flat metal plate.
Ah, this.
‘Come to think of it, I nearly died because of this earlier.’
[So that hesitation of yours...]
‘Yeah, exactly.’
When the lord charged head-on, this had caught Seongjin’s eye for a split second.
He’d tried to look closer, only to take a hit from the beast in his distraction.
‘Doesn’t this look kinda similar?’
Seongjin placed the amulet and ornament side by side.
The Nebraska summoning amulet—the one he’d gotten from defeating the labyrinth boss.
[Oh, it does.]
Comparing them up close made it even clearer. The flat plates were similar in size, and the intricate carvings had a familiar vibe.
The only difference: Bazra’s ornament had intact beads, while the amulet was empty.
[Amazing. This is Regular World stuff too. High-grade at that. Where the hell are these things keep popping up from?]
As the Demon King muttered, he pointed to one of the beads on Bazra’s ornament.
[This one’s off. That red bead.]
‘Hm.’
Truth be told, Seongjin had found the bead odd too.
It had only been a glimpse, but when he’d first yanked the ornament free, he remembered all the beads being transparent.
Yet now, one gleamed a vivid crimson.
[Up close, it almost looks like a Regular World soul. But the text overlaps too much to tell.]
Regular World soul? Text?
[Yeah, like I explained before? Regular World souls are totally unique compared to the Image or Material Worlds.]
Seongjin dredged up the vague memory of the Demon King’s explanation.
Right. Regular World souls weren’t humanoid—they were orbs or crystals, right?
‘But if it’s a soul, how come I can touch it?’
[Technically, it’s a bead infused with a soul.]
‘Soul-infused bead...’
[It’s not unheard of for souls or thoughts to inhabit objects. But since it’s a Regular World soul, it doesn’t manifest visibly. Just stays as a round bead.]
So, like a haunted object, but no ghost shows up?
‘Then what’s this about text?’
[You already know, right? Regular World items always come with standardized descriptions. That’s how I spot them instantly.]
A memory from the labyrinth flashed by.
The bizarre world where touching things popped up game-like tooltips.
[Not as clear as in the Regular World, of course. But even here in the Material World, you can sense the lingering traces. Can’t read it fully, but the eyes can catch the faint outlines of the text.]
Problem is, with all these Regular World items piled together, it’s all jumbled.
The Demon King nodded to himself.
In the end, Seongjin decided to borrow the Demon King’s eyes to check himself.
Red light flickered in his pupils, unfolding the now-familiar multicolored world.
‘Tooltips, huh...’
He examined the Regular World items closely with those eyes.
Soon, something wondrous happened. Faint text shimmered faintly above the objects, small but distinct.
〚Soulstone〛
〚Nebraska’s Emblem〛
That’s what he barely made out after staring at Bazra’s ornament for ages. Especially the transparent beads.
〚Soulstone〛
They really held souls.
And that nagging crimson one.
〚Bazra’s Soulstone〛
‘...Bazra?’
It actually has a soul in it? Bazra’s soul?
Stunned, Seongjin turned to the ice shard he’d taken from Bazra—and text appeared above it.
〚Glacier Troll’s Ice Heart〛
...What?
* * *
Before sunset, Masain and Seongjin’s party arrived at the gorge’s forefront.
Masain had been terribly worried the whole way here. What misfortune could have befallen the prince who’d suddenly fallen into the northern gorge? The more he imagined, the deeper his anxiety grew.
But reality exceeded any imagination.
“......!”
Guided to the ice outpost, they came face-to-face with Prince Mores, covered head to toe in crusted blood.
His shirt, winter gear— even his pale golden hair—all soaked in gore. Masain’s vision went white for a moment, and he staggered in place.
Yet upon spotting Masain, the prince broke into the brightest smile imaginable and waved.
“Sir Masain!”
Then he winced, clutching his side with a groan.
“What hurts, my lord?!”
As Masain rushed over in panic, the prince waved him off lightly.
“No, that’s not important right now. Guess what I found? Check this out!”
“Not important...?!”
“Look, it’s a Glacier Troll’s heart. This is how I figured out what those bastards are up to!”
So the Lycanslopes...
The lord and the gorge’s ice...
The prince’s excited chatter faded as Masain’s mind went blank.
-He says the prince just got caught in an accident like the others, so don’t scold him too much when you see him.
Lady Sharon had said that.
But Masain could declare with certainty.
Absolutely not, Your Majesty.
That appearance isn’t from stumbling into an accident—it’s from actively hunting one down, I’m sure of it!
“Oh, right! Also? I’m getting a dog starting today.”
“A dog...”
“I’ll wrangle it properly from the margrave, so it’s basically mine already. Oh, don’t worry about care! Edith will handle feeding and baths, and Sir Haven and Sir Carmen can clean up after its business.”
Finally at his limit, Masain gathered all the aura in his dantian and bellowed loud enough to shake the outpost.
*ROOOOAR!!!*