Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: The Magic You Chose (4)
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As they drew closer to the North Sea, the sea breeze blowing down from the mountains near the Floating Harbor pushed back the cold a little.
The members of the Hooksclo Knights tossed reindeer pelts to the squires and ordered them to dry them in the sunlight.
Even at the very edge of the front lines, where they had just barely reached Helzev, Whitelett hid his complicated feelings as he watched the rookies already collapsing from exhaustion.
Soon the weather would warm, and the remnants of the demon race would come pouring out—
Their weakness would soon turn into blood.
"Don't be too harsh on them, Commander."
Seeing the fresh-faced rookies shrink under his displeased gaze, the veteran Hans spoke up casually.
"It's not like the kids are collapsing because they're weak. Anyone would be the same once they get close to that fortress."
Hans pointed to the massive ice fortress ahead—the Roshiar stronghold.
There were currently three entry points on the continent bordering the demon realm.
Of them, the Hooksclo Knights guarded the Raviere Mountains at the Penheim border, while Lake Cenrir was held by the Snow Duke and the soldiers of House Roshiar.
The snow reflected in the clock exuded a piercing chill just from looking at it—it was no mere ice, but a crystallization of magical power.
"Even so, it's the same. The demon remnants will inevitably break through that fortress."
"Tch, that demon statue? You're worrying too much. They can handle an investigation like that at Roshiar, right?"
Even though this reserve force was mostly made up of rookies, the North Sea was no easy land if it required the Hooksclo Knights to come all this way.
Nevertheless, Margrave Whitelett insisted on thoroughly investigating even the demons.
He was a model knight, tirelessly working day and night for the kingdom, vowing not to miss even the smallest trace.
"...If even a single demon minion appears within the kingdom, the situation will spiral out of control."
"That's true. Since the Great War, everyone's grown complacent in peace, so the damage would be huge. Among the grand dukes, Roshiar is the exception—most didn't even join small wars. Including your old comrades."
He was specifically pointing to Terra Ernisten. Whitelett nodded as well.
"It's best to leave that one to Liv quietly."
"Pardon?"
The knights hurriedly erected wind barriers against the cold rising from below the lake.
Gazing at them, Whitelett fell deep into thought. The comrade he was thinking of now wasn't the Terra that Hans mentioned.
—Whoa, it's slippery as hell here. Eris, want a piggyback? You'll fall like that.
—Why do you always favor her, Louis? Look, Nova's pissed.
—If you're jealous, ask Whitelett. I can only carry one person.
—I'd rather fly than get on that old bastard's back, fuck. Hey, Eris! Don't get on just 'cause he offered—come here!
Whitelett, raised in the kingdom, didn't know much, but it seemed the life of Monarch's Saint was one with severe restrictions.
When asked what she wanted to do after the war ended, Eris always said she wanted to travel freely.
Louis seemed determined to make that happen, taking extra care of Eris.
Even while endlessly cutting away her gangrenous toes on the ice.
"He took on too much. It's a wonder he didn't go mad... No, toward the end, he did seem a bit unhinged. Even Terra couldn't do anything."
"Lady Terra? Well, I've heard most mages with unique magic aren't quite right in the head."
"Does that include me too, Hans?"
"P-Pardon? Ah, no! I mean...!"
"I'm kidding."
Whitelett drew his sword and scraped across the ice as he advanced toward the Roshiar fortress. His subordinates couldn't endure any longer anyway.
"I'll go meet the Snow Duke alone. Have everything ready to depart by then."
Crack! Craaack—!
Cracks gradually formed on the lake where the sword had scraped.
The closer he got to the fortress, the stronger the chill burrowing into his body became.
Whitelett clicked his tongue softly and swung his sword through the air. His unique magic activated, whitening away the cold enveloping him.
How long had he walked? As the translucent walls soared into the sky, he finally let out a sigh of relief.
No need to enter the fortress itself.
Because its master sat in the middle of the frozen lake, on a table and chair made of ice.
"What brings you here, Margrave?"
It was a stiff, cold voice devoid of emotion.
The woman with her blue hair neatly combed down wore no coat over her white and blue uniform.
The ruler of the North, head of House Roshiar, one of Penheim's five grand dukes.
Spear of the Half-Demon. Flower of the North Sea. Warden of the Frost. Empress of Extreme Ice.
The Snow Duke.
Estelle Sylvestra de Roshiar.
Gazing at the single spear piercing the silent lake, Whitelett spoke.
"I'm here to ask about the demon statue found near Adenbury."
"We investigated, but no demon karma was detected."
"Possibility of a black mage?"
"Can't rule it out. But my role is to kill demons from this place."
She nailed it down as if it wasn't her concern.
No time for investigations. It was behavior that perfectly showed Estelle's personality.
Spear of the Half-Demon. Even if demons infiltrated Penheim, Roshiar was no shield to protect anyone.
"Don't you worry about your sister at Pharenchia Academy?"
"Not really. My only concern is whether I can fully purify Helzev before I die."
"I heard she's entering the magic duel tournament too. Did you know?"
"Results are what matter. A dull spear is useless."
She seemed made of ice from head to toe.
No point in talking more. Whitelett decided to wrap up and return to the Raviere Mountains.
"I'll recover the demon statue and investigate it personally."
"I'll send it to knight headquarters."
Good, she'd cooperate on that much. Then coming to the North Sea wasn't entirely wasted—it would give his rookies some experience too.
"Snow Duke."
Before leaving, Whitelett looked at the walls showing no sign of melting regardless of season and asked.
"When do you plan to clear all these unpleasant things?"
"They'd smell if they melted. They also instill fear, so I'll leave them as is."
"Fear, huh..."
Well, demons weren't mindless monsters charging straight ahead.
It was a thought struck while looking at the fortress adorned beautifully in blood, holding countless deaths in its maw—a vivid crimson one wouldn't imagine made of ice.
Whether looking straight ahead, upward, or to the bottom of the frozen lake.
The shores of Lake Cenrir were littered with demon corpses felled by Roshiar's spear across the world.
Indeed, creating such a hellscape without batting an eye suggested she wasn't quite sane.
Whitelett left Lake Cenrir, turned into a pool of blood, without looking back.
The day of the magic duel tournament.
The coliseum-like circular arena was packed with spectators.
From the back of the waiting room, I did a final check on Adella's karma.
"How do you feel?"
"I'm good."
Litvice test paper lighter than a persimmon. This should be sufficient.
"Got it? Magic amplified with Mana Coercion—maximum three times. Use Lightning Bolt, Ignition, and Wind Slash as the situation calls for, and absolutely no other spells."
"Got it, Teach."
She got it, right? That habit of dragging out the end of sentences makes me uneasy sometimes.
"Here, it's yours, so take the test paper."
"..."
"Adella?"
"Just hold onto it for me, Teacher. I might lose it during the match."
Fine? Then I'll toss it if I feel like it.
I gave Adella one last piece of advice and slipped some popcorn into her pocket.
She munched on it as she entered the arena.
Now I should get to my own work.
Considering Pharenchia's high prices—1 silver for a hunk of dry bread—this was pretty reasonable.
In fact, students living at the academy spent money like water, so a few silver coins were no big deal.
—Two bags of popcorn here!
—Ahh, smells good. Should we get some?
—Mister! Over here~!
While the six mages gathered in the arena center received introductions from the announcer, their robes fluttering impressively, I bustled about busily.
In no time, quite a bit of popcorn sold, filling the stands with a savory aroma.
After circling the arena once, I looked around for more customers when someone tapped my shoulder.
Turning, I saw a young man in neat butler attire.
"The Luhillen Viscount wishes to purchase popcorn."
"Sure? Take a bag."
"Ahem, I don't have cash on me..."
Is he an idiot? Then why come?
Despite my dumbfounded look, he steadfastly said Darling wanted popcorn.
Glancing around, there she was in the VIP seats, separated from the general area.
Gesturing and glaring this way—probably calling me over.
Following the attendant's guidance, I arrived at the protruding spectator seats on either side of the arena.
Nice view. I could look down on Adella and Liv, who were starting to recite their pre-battle oaths.
"You're here, canteen owner."
"Popcorn here."
I handed over a bag, but Darling shook her head.
"I don't want that many."
"Then?"
"Just one piece. I'll pay the same."
Is she messing with me?
But she popped the one piece I gave her into her mouth and really handed over 3 silver.
"Then I'm off?"
"One more."
"Pardon?"
"Buying one more."
I gave another piece and took 3 silver.
As I really tried to leave, Darling grabbed my sleeve again.
"One more."
"..."
Tap.
Clink.
Tap.
Clink.
Several incomprehensible transactions later.
"This is inconvenient."
"Then just buy the whole bag."
"I don't want that. Sit here."
She scooted over and patted the seat.
Then she opened her mouth wide toward me, clearly signaling 'hurry up and feed me popcorn'.
If I'm right next to her, she can grab it herself...
Munch, munch.
No choice—I sat and fed her popcorn.
At this rate, not sure if I'll sell out today.