Chapter 52
At the Exhibition Hall (1)
The road to the North was long and cold.
Yet, the procession of the Rivan Count family walking that long, freezing road was not shabby in the slightest. Carriages flowing with a blue luster, flags embroidered with blue light patterns, well-tamed warhorses, and neatly aligned escort knights. Outwardly, they were still a healthy, prestigious family.
But behind that flashiness, there was a festering root.
The Rivan Count family was originally a family existing for 'survival' and 'proof'. It was a place evaluated only by performance, ability, and results rather than love or familial bonds. Tied together merely under the name of a family, its individuals were thoroughly treated as competitors.
The Eldest Son: Known as a swordsmanship genius. He made a name for himself in exchange matches with knights since childhood and possessed abundant actual combat experience. Within the family, he was already established as the next family head—although he was currently lying on a sickbed due to an unexpected accident.
The Second Son: The top graduate of the Magic Academy. His report card was always at the top, and he showed prominence in practical exams as well. His connections within the magic world served as another insurance policy for the family.
And then there was the eldest daughter, Erica Rivan.
The flower of social circles.
Elegantly pinning up her sky-blue hair, the faint blush seeping into her white skin and her vivid eyes always attracted people's gazes. Her aloof figure and bewitching beauty were enough to draw attention simply by her existing. Armed with an observational power capable of reading an opponent's expression, tone, and even the length of their breath, along with a perfectly calculated smile, she always stood at the center of social gatherings. She was the figure who made the family name spoken the most.
She, too, lived to be acknowledged—to receive her family's and her father's acknowledgment.
Therefore, the word 'family' was not suitable for the Rivan Count family. There was absolutely no interaction between siblings except for official events; even as blood relatives, they didn't interact unless it involved a grave matter.
The names of Rivan united thoroughly for need and profit. In this family, which was closer to an organization tied by blood—built on a structure of helping each other but pushing one another away if necessary—the one whose presence was the faintest was the youngest: Edom Rivan.
With his skinny body and darkly sunken eyes, he was an abandoned child unable to mix with the group. A blood kin called the shame of the family, it was safe to say Edom's existential value was zero.
Edom was always on the periphery. He didn't receive any expectations even within the family and was almost never a topic of conversation among his siblings. He was merely a punching bag meant to absorb their disgust and contempt, often mocked for using the disgusting sorcery known as the Summoning Arts.
When he ran away from home three years ago, no one chased him. Far from chasing him, they didn't even put his name on the agenda for family discussion.
When the fact that Edom Rivan had disappeared was belatedly recognized, the Rivan Count family's mansion was filled with an air closer to annoyance and fatigue than surprise. To the extent that even the natural trouble of finding a family member was considered a luxury, Edom Rivan's disappearance passed as quietly as an event that hadn't happened in the first place.
Hearing the news, Erica had simply said:
"Good riddance."
She was completely calm. It was a statement entirely devoid of emotion.
The runaway of the guy who was like a thorn in her eye—someone whose very introduction as her 'younger brother' caused nausea—was just one of those things that had turned out well.
"What would change just because one gloomy bastard who ruins appetites is missing?"
To her, Edom wasn't even an object of interest. He was simply an existence better off absent, a mere variable possessing the possibility of becoming a laughingstock in social circles. Therefore, when he disappeared, Erica's reaction was as dry as clearing away a bothersome piece of trash.
The youngest's runaway and the vacancy he left were soon forgotten. Like a person who didn't exist from the beginning, his room was quickly organized, and his personal items were cleared deep into a warehouse. The disappearance of one blood kin was merely a trivial deviation in a huge gear.
No one asked.
Where he went.
Whether he was alive.
Or whether he was dead.
The Rivan family was a place that valued performance over blood. Especially as the decline in their business performance began shortly after, all family interest tilted in that direction. Everyone bearing the Rivan name put their heart and soul into performance recovery and family revival.
And now, as part of that effort, the Rivan Count family's procession arrived at the Northern Territory's Capital, Helon.
A Calculated Arrival
Cold air stung her skin. It was a sharp and dry energy, completely different from the Central region's mildness. The Wintel family's crest, fluttering over the city's outer wall, came into view.
Erica looked around Helon through the carriage window.
She was here to shine, to become the centerpiece at an event hosted by Princess Emiline, where the Northern upper class was gathering in full force. She also pondered the news she had heard during their travels: the existence of Endermit. The exhibition was taking place at a time when tension hovered, as the Wintel family had recently announced 'Endermit' as an enemy.
A special order for family revival, alongside the task of attending a stage where crisis and power tangled simultaneously, was placed squarely on her shoulders. She had promised her father clearly:
"I won't go against your expectations."
Erica knew the Rivan Count family was declining. Their main business performance had dropped sharply due to the Southern merchant guild's pressure and maritime route instability. Finances had become tight, and their external reputation was shaking little by little.
This exhibition was her opportunity. Whether it meant forging a connecting link with the Wintel family, opening marriage talks with an influential noble, or grabbing a political line, she had to produce a result. Especially after refusing marriage talks several times because they failed to meet her standards, her prestige as the 'Flower of Social Circles' had been withering.
Attending this exhibition was a chance to prove her utility as a family member, while simultaneously proving herself as a woman and the reigning flower of social circles.
She had already finished her calculations.
She had analyzed all the information gathered on the way here and established a flawless plan. She had finalized detailed calculations on who to contact, what topics to approach them with, and exactly what expressions to make. She arranged the cards in her head to place her family's name in the top ranks once again, ready to bloom her petals in the social circles.
The Northern air was cold, but inside Erica's chest, it was burning hot. The Rivan Count family speaks with results. And she intended to create results at this exhibition.
By all means.
Inside the Art Room
A space where moonlight coming through the window mixed with candlelight.
Cloth stained with paint was scattered on the floor, and large and small canvases stood propped against every wall. Some were completed, some were stopped halfway, and others were neglected with only rough brush strokes placed upon them.
After the commotion of the banquet hall explosion incident, the appearance of the existence called Endermit, and the arrest of the executives had finally subsided, a quiet but firm conclusion was made inside the Wintel Main Castle:
The exhibition would proceed as scheduled. In fact, it would be even more gorgeous, more grand.
The night that conclusion was made, Emiline locked the art room door. And she locked herself inside.
The main theme of this exhibition was the growth story of one man. At first, it was merely an expression of gratitude to the man who had saved her, the man dedicating his life to the Northern Territory and the Wintel family. But the moment she held her brush and faced the canvas, it changed into something that could no longer be explained by 'gratitude' alone.
First painting: A young mercenary wearing worn armor. A face tanned by sunlight; sharp eyes.
Second painting: The Savior of Hamelon, becoming a member of the Engineering Unit and blocking the crumbled wall gap alone amidst the Northern Alliance Tribes' offensive.
Third painting: His appearance unfolding dozens of summoning circles simultaneously on the battlefield. A scene where blue patterns bloom in layers in the air, and a huge cavalry lance splits enemy lines.
Fourth painting: The silhouette of a man blocking black magic while fusing with a dark red knight—the appearance of that day as heard from Vivienne.
The more she painted, the faster Emiline's heart beat. The hand holding the brush trembled. And sometimes, drawing while completely losing her mind...
"Kyaa—!"
A small scream would burst out inside the art room. Before she even realized it, the canvas contained two figures at a far closer distance than necessary. A scene embracing in arms, a distance where breath seemed to touch, the exact moment their gazes tangled. Seeing the parts where apricot colors had spread excessively, Emiline's face dyed bright red as she urgently covered the canvas with a cloth.
"Th-this is not it...! Not for the exhibition...!"
Canvases hidden away like that piled up on one side. Kept purely for personal appreciation, not for the exhibition.
The boundary between day and night blurred. She only recognized that time had passed when the attendants brought her meals, and she gauged the date by the speed at which her paint dried. Faint shadows formed under her eyes, but the hand holding the brush didn't stop.
With the feeling of grinding her very soul, she drew the cool appearance of one man.
The Grand Opening
And like that, finally, the day of the exhibition dawned.
Wintel Main Castle's Grand Exhibition Hall opened amidst much stricter security than before. Knights were deployed at every entrance, and the procedures for checking invitations were exceedingly thorough.
Nobles arrived one after another. Jewels, silk, perfume, and golden decorations filled the hall. Among them was Erica Rivan, who had arrived leading her flashy carriage procession. The so-called flower of social circles looked around the hall with planned steps, wearing a calculated smile. The sheer will to find 'something to salvage' at this exhibition dwelled in her eyes.
The Center of the Hall.
Standing on a high platform, Emiline was stiff with tension as she felt all those gazes. The large exhibited canvases were all covered with thick cloths. The main theme of the exhibition was kept a strict secret right up to the moment the event began. The audience buzzed, not yet knowing what would appear.
Emiline took a small breath and stepped one pace forward to the front of the platform.
"Thank you, everyone, for attending the exhibition like this."
The opening was a formal greeting. Following that, words introducing the exhibition continued.
"To, today's exhibition's... main theme is..."
Her voice shook for a moment, then she trimmed it again.
"The record of one man."
The audience became perfectly quiet.
"Starting as an ordinary mercenary, proving his name on the battlefield... and finally rising to the Captain of Wintel Main Castle's Special Task Force, and earning the title of Count."
A small stir arose. Among those gathered from various places, there were some guessing exactly who she was talking about. Emiline lowered her head shyly, then raised it.
"I wanted to introduce... his journey like that to everyone, so I selected it as the main theme this time."
She raised her hand lightly. Matching that signal, the attendants standing on both sides moved simultaneously.
Numerous cloths were lifted.
Slide.
Large and small canvases revealed their appearances simultaneously. The battlefield where blue summoning circles unfolded as if exploding. The shape fusing with the dark red knight under the moonlight. The scene blocking black magic.
And lastly: The back view of one man standing at the boundary of light and darkness.
A brief silence flowed through the exhibition hall. And soon...
"Oh..."
"Wo-wonderful painting..."
"Amazing skill, as expected...!"
Admiration and exclamations burst out chain-reactively. Someone swallowed their breath, and someone started clapping. The presence of the figure in the painting was overwhelming. It wasn't drawn as a simple portrait of one figure, but rather as the symbol of an era.
Emiline watched the reaction with a reddened face. Her heart thumped. She moved her gaze to the place where the protagonist of these paintings was standing.
Iden Summonfield.
What expression is he making, indeed?
At that thought, Emiline's fingertips trembled minutely once again.
Of course, there were three more gazes heading toward the man selected as the main theme of this exhibition besides Emiline's.
Erwin, who had become a Special Task Force member, transitioning from Engineering Captain to attendant.
Vivienne, who went from an Academy student suffering from stalking to a Northern Alchemist, now completely liberated from her past days.
Lastly...
'That guy, huh.'
Erica Rivan, the flower of social circles and the eldest daughter of the Rivan Count family.
The heat in the exhibition hall began to rise slowly.