Return to the Iron-Blood Lands
The wind blowing through the carriage window was cold. A day caught between summer and autumn. It should have been warm sunlight streaming in, but regrettably, the chill only grew sharper with every passing moment.
"Eh? Are you nervous or something?"
Perhaps noticing his leg bouncing, Lilia—seated across from him in her spirit form—asked casually.
"Guess so. Didn't even realize it myself."
"Master gets nervous too?"
"I'm human, after all."
Normally, with his current strength, there'd be no reason to tense up. But their destination wasn't some pushover spot.
The empire's northernmost frontier. A land where winds carrying biting cold blew year-round, and rivers of blood had flowed countless times. People called it the iron-blood lands. The north's graveyard. Vergilius County.
It was his birthplace—the home he'd endured for so long.
Almost there, and I'm already regretting this hardcore. Should've just stayed at the academy.
Each breath of frigid air stirred fragments of the past. Unwelcome, horrific memories that still soured his mood.
Well, he'd basically been chased out, so good ones were never on the table anyway.
Thud!!!
As he sighed and gazed out the window, the carriage jolted violently up and down before grinding to a halt.
"Y-Young master…! Something big's happened."
"Something big?"
This was Vergilius County, after all. No way bandits would pull crap like this here…
"Did a magic beast show up?"
"Uh… Y-Yes. Looks like a pack of White Wolves up ahead."
"Ah, right on schedule."
The north might seem unchanging with its eternal snow and cold, but even there, seasons shifted. Right now, temperatures were just starting to rise on average—perfect timing for White Wolves to hunt for fresh prey.
"Should we turn back? It'd take a bit longer, but…"
"Nah. I'll handle it."
He stepped out of the carriage, steadying his breath. A-Rank magic beasts, White Wolves. High-risk predators fitting the north's infamous reputation.
The old him would've retreated. Not anymore.
"About eleven of 'em, huh."
Grrrrowl!!!
A bit more than he'd guessed, but no big deal. Wolves were wolves, after all.
Better make it clean.
He extended his mana, shaping it into a spear. No messy dismemberment—that wasn't his style. Just pierce the hearts neatly.
As a small bolt of lightning crackled in his palm, ready to hurl at the pack—
Piiiing!!
Ice shards suddenly rained down like a barrage from somewhere at blinding speed.
"It's been a while."
A voice he hadn't heard in over a year—grating as ever. Emotionless, like speaking to a block of ice. Gray eyes that pierced straight through him.
Her single word froze him solid.
"…Looks like the expedition's over."
"I happened to cross paths on the way back."
"I see."
"Not happy to see your big sis after so long?"
Mounted on her horse, gazing down at him with those ash-gray eyes, she made him feel impossibly small.
"Master. That's…"
"Yeah. My sister, just like you heard."
"You do look a bit alike. The vibe, the eyes…"
Vergilius County was in an unprecedented golden age. The count himself—a 8th Circle mage like Academy Chairman Hinissila—and three of his four children shone with brilliant talent.
And among those three standouts, the undisputed pinnacle: a 25-year-old ice magic genius who'd reached the 7th Circle.
Ash Vergilius. His eldest sister.
Won't inherit the head seat, but…
She and the family alike wielded her as the north's sharpest blade. And today, she'd just returned from that expedition over a year ago.
"So, I heard you went to the academy."
"Yes. Felt like the right thing to do."
"Good grades?"
"Top of my class, for now…"
"…Hm. Heard rumors, but you've changed a lot."
Her eyes fixed solely on him, appraising his transformed looks—and the core beneath.
Even Ash on expedition got word of me?
If news reached her in the boonies, he was truly blowing up. Unwelcome fame, but inevitable. He'd gone from empire's worst laughingstock to overnight miracle.
"Alright. Let's head home."
As if it were the most natural thing, Ash hoisted him onto her horse.
"…We're going like this?"
"Yes. Coachman, collect your pay later."
"Ah, got it! Have a good trip!!"
Wait, seriously? Ride plastered to Ash's back all the way home?
"S-Sis… I can walk."
"No. You've come far—stay put."
"…Yes, ma'am."
Stubborn as hell. He begged to dismount several times, figuring it was improper. But he ended up glued to her back until they reached the estate.
Vergilius County rivaled a grand ducal house in prestige. Maybe even surpassed the fading great houses lately.
The empire's tallest wall against barbarian hordes eyeing their borders. That was Vergilius County.
"…This looks straight out of a demon realm fortress."
"Yeah? It's on the bigger side."
Upon arrival, they were greeted by a massive estate and at least thirty servants.
And this is the trimmed-down crew.
Probably scaled back since it was just him—not some other family member. Ash had peeled off to tend her own horse.
"Welcome home… Young master."
"…No need to make it weird."
Since when had they ever called him that? It felt like pure pretense now.
"Ah, young master. Let me take your bag."
"N-No, I've got it…"
As the servant reached for the bag in his hand—
He slipped, stomping right on Dante's foot.
"Master! That was…"
Lilia's suspicion of intent seemed off; the guy looked genuinely flustered. Maybe not an order from the head to humble him—thank god.
"I'm sorry!!! I'll accept any punishment—p-please forgive me…"
The servant slammed his forehead to the ground, begging.
That sight drove it home once more.
No matter how much they ignored me in the family…
To these servants, any blood of the main house was untouchable. Emperors or gods to them. The north's blazing sun over Vergilius lands. Absolute rulers beyond defiance.
"You can look up."
"Th-Thank you…!!"
Leaving the teary, grateful man behind, Dante stepped inside.
Luxury ornaments everywhere, knights outshining imperial orders. And that signature chill—hair-raising tension.
Now it truly felt like he'd returned to Vergilius soil.
"………The youngest is here."
In an instant, an utterly unwelcome voice boomed from the ceiling above.
"Youngest, proceed straight to the head's chamber. No delays."
Not a father's tone to his son—but an emperor commanding vassals.
Still dries my blood out after all this time.
That ever-present oppressive timbre.
Back on this soil, defiance wasn't an option anyway.
"The head's chamber… Your dad's place?"
"Yeah. But don't freak out when we get there."
"…Huh? Why?"
"You'll see what a human more demonic than demons looks like."
Ignoring Lilia's confused "What?!" he strode to the head's chamber door without pause and threw it open.
Creak.
A skin-prickling chill hit immediately, matched by the head's blood-freezing gray eyes glaring down.
That suffocating aura, unchanged—choking just from a glance.
"So… the youngest returns."
Seated high like an emperor on his throne, the man looking down was none other than—
The Count of Frost. Master of the North.
Joshua Vergilius.
Dante's father.