Chapter 1
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Engagement with the Northern Grand Duchess
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Incompetence is a sin.
I hated that phrase with a passion.
It wasn't the meaning behind it that bothered me.
It was just that I'd heard it day in and day out since childhood, and layers of resentment had built up inside me because of it.
"Dear, please. The boy's hurt... Can't we stop now?"
"Get up."
"Dear!"
"You, leave us. If he can't even handle this much, he doesn't deserve to call himself a son of Darius."
"Stop... Please stop."
Slap!
Father striking Mother's cheek was a massive shock to me as a child.
Father was the head of the Silverhardt family—one of the empire's premier noble houses—and the lord of the Magic Tower.
Though I inherited the blood of the Silverhardt family, renowned for their magical prowess, I had no talent for it whatsoever.
Father scolded me harshly for it, and I remembered crying every time.
I cried until no more tears would come. Then Mother passed away.
I didn't know the exact cause of death.
No one in the family, who had already cast me aside, bothered to tell me.
"What do you mean you can't learn the secret arts?!"
"For the heir to the family head's bloodline to lack talent in magic! This is an ill omen!"
"A dire portent indeed..."
I couldn't master the magic that symbolized the Silverhardt legacy, passed down through generations.
From that day on, I had to live here not as the family head's son, but as the family's disgrace and problem child.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ One day, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror by chance, and it was more horrific than I imagined.
My clothes were filthy from training that had dragged on until dawn, my hair a tangled mess long overdue for a trim.
Bruises covered my body, and my eyes were bloodshot.
"..."
The second son of the next Magic Tower lord, burdened with sky-high expectations from the elite, must have started veering off course around the age of ten.
"You've become completely twisted, my disciple."
After Father washed his hands of me, my education fell entirely to my Master.
Master was a good man.
The empire hailed him as the "Excellent Hunter," but I never learned his real name.
"This is actually better. Easier to teach you in this state."
Master's methods differed from Father's.
He didn't invoke the family honor to shove me into hell like Father did.
To him, magic—which the Silverhardts revered as a symbol of glory and honor—was just a tool.
"Even if magic didn't choose you, I'll let you bask in its graces at least that much."
Under him, I relearned magic from the basics.
Compared to Father's domineering, overwhelming power, Master's magic was cold and sharp.
Slowly but surely, I built up my skills.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A year had passed since I met Master.
"What a decline. For the Silverhardt bloodline to pass to the likes of you... We never should have let that woman into the family."
The family elders still hounded me relentlessly.
It started after Mother died and Father's attention began drifting away from me.
They hoped my half-brother would one day succeed the Silverhardts.
And my downfall along with it.
"Pathetic. Letting the ramblings of those old fools sway you is pointless."
Whenever we met, my brother quietly rebuked me.
Unlike me, he had talent. He was the one expected to become the greatest archmage in history.
My days of mental torment dragged on until Master, unable to stand it, offered some advice.
"Why not pick up a hobby?"
"A hobby..."
"Something to keep body and mind healthy. Like painting or singing."
Mulling over his words, my eyes happened to fall on a puppet doll I'd found in my room.
It was an ultra-high-quality piece crafted by an Eastern Continent artisan, and it captivated my young heart.
Because it moved without a will of its own, solely by others' commands—like looking at a mirror of myself.
That was when it began.
The moment I set foot on the path of the puppeteer.
"Heh... What's all this, young master?"
Whirr.
"Ho ho. Impressive."
"I had no idea you had this kind of talent, young master."
The family's maids and servants marveled at my creations.
In contrast, the Silverhardt elites wore expressions full of displeasure.
It was inevitable.
To me, it was a refined and beautiful hobby, but to them, it was just childish behavior that undermined a noble's dignity.
But since I'd already fallen short of their expectations, there were no extra restrictions imposed on me.
"Amazing! The layered circuits embedded in the spine are what allow such natural movement! To think you'd engrave them stitch by stitch!"
Those were days immersed in the complexity and exquisite beauty of puppets.
I never skimped on studying them, even if it meant pulling all-nighters.
I delved obsessively into fields like sculpting and anatomy for the human form, and magic systems for granting and enhancing.
Records and research on 'magic' were top secret, making access difficult.
Yet with the mere title of Silverhardt second son, I could easily peruse thousands of spells lining the family library.
"Yudel, I should warn you ahead of time. I'm off to hunt a high-ranking demon that's invaded imperial territory."
My farewell with Master came without warning.
"I might not come back. Even so, don't grieve—forge your own path. And don't even dream of revenge."
A month later, news of Master's death arrived.
For a while, I couldn't do anything.
I loathed demons.
I wanted to rush out and kill them right then, but it would just end in my own pointless death.
'For now, build my strength.'
Once my emotions settled somewhat, the pressure from the family elders intensified.
"Young master, outings beyond the outer walls will be restricted unless absolutely necessary from now on."
Rumors swirled of deep discussions about me in the Elder Council.
"Doesn't matter."
It was something I'd foreseen long ago.
If anything, I dove even deeper into puppets.
The sole light allowing me to live as myself in this hellhole.
After Master passed, no more sweet praise or warm comfort could fill my heart.
These dolls alone were my pillar of support, my sanctuary.
"Core... I need a core. Without a storage unit to stock enough mana, even the finest puppet won't move past half a day."
Fortunately, I had a talent for creation.
Not the magical aptitude inherited from Father or Mother, but a talent I'd cultivated from within myself.
"Young master, you've been granted permission to go out. Please return before sunset."
That was my daily routine.
Spending a fortune to buy dolls from the territory's merchant caravans,
Trembling in awe at the fragments of knowledge the artisans had poured into them,
And placing only the one or two I deemed most beautiful that day on my room's shelf.
Years later,
Father died.
He'd been ambushed by demons on his way back from the capital, they said.
Unlike with Master, no tears came.
But my thirst for revenge against demons only grew steadily.
"Yudel, I'm aiming for Magic Tower Lord."
Kairo von Silverhardt.
My brother, whom I met again after reaching adulthood, was like cold metal.
He crushed the other guardian families eyeing the tower lord position with his overwhelming talent and claimed it effortlessly.
My life didn't change much.
I stopped attending the periodic lessons the family mandated.
I'd grown for certain.
Having already learned most of it from Master, the classes were just boring now.
The next family head position naturally went to him.
He had the qualities for it and was Magic Tower Lord besides—no one complained.
Above all, with him as head, I had more time holed up in my room researching puppets, which suited me fine.
"Each doll's structure varies, but the mana circuits inside all operate on the same principle."
I couldn't stop smiling as the blue glow from the circuits subtly vibrated through the room.
Two years after Father's funeral, my puppetry began to bear fruit.
"Arm and leg circuits are good enough like this. I've memorized the spinal circuits linking brain and spine too. With this—"
Complete.
Not only had I fully grasped the harmonious artisan circuit structures I deemed beautiful, but I'd even linked them reliably to 'magic'.
Its movements were graceful, unlike any wooden doll—subtle tremors, hesitations, and softness, as if a living woman inhabited it.
For the first time, my chest swelled with emotion.
I truly felt alive, not as Silverhardt's second son, but as myself.
Three years passed since then.
"We've forged a marriage alliance with the Northern Grand Duchy."
"Pardon?"
I didn't know.
That life's turning points always come without warning.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The North—
Imperial soil, yet beyond the reach of imperial law.
A border swallowed by war, demons, and harsh nature.
And the domain of a monstrous man who held it all in his iron grip.
"The northern front's been restless lately. The Northern Grand Duke's making his move."
In his hand was a single rough letter,
Far from the royal court's elegant style—crude and unrefined.
The contents read as follows.
'To the Magic Tower Lord from Northern Grand Duke Frederic van Delberg.' The northern front is in turmoil. Cunning demons ride the blizzards across the border, in numbers incomparable to before. What will the Magic Tower stake on this war? Great power demands commensurate responsibility. This marriage alliance is both pact and guarantee—a show of my sincerity. Refusal is not an option. The North has no room for choices. The tower's lord surely knows that if the North's shield falls, the southern tower won't be safe. Come north before three seasons turn. I hope you won't disappoint me.' ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Why me, of all people?"
It was a genuine question.
There were other magical noble houses tied to the Magic Tower besides the Silverhardts.
"The Elder Council's decision. With Silverhardt holding the tower lordship again, it's to quell other guardian families' discontent and set an example."
"..."
I understood.
The Elder Council had already decided to exile me.
"Understood."
"You're taking it calmly."
"No choice but to accept, is there?"
The sons and daughters of grand dukes were sometimes mere pieces on the political chessboard.
For greater gains, to minimize betrayal risks, or to tighten alliance bonds...
Families becoming in-laws was commonplace.
"What a shame."
Brother tossed out the indifferent remark.
Only then did it sink in.
The family had abandoned me.
But I wouldn't despair.
This time too, I'd find my way to survive.