Chapter 30
Chapter 30
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Flower of the North Sea (1)
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The Raviere Mountains, stretching long between Penheim and the demon realm, formed a natural fortress.
A dense forest where even daylight barely penetrated, with sheer cliffs that even hellhounds struggled to climb.
Atop the fortress walls fluttered the banners of the twelve knight orders and mage corps guarding humanity's front lines.
In its long history, demons and monsters—superior in physical prowess to humans—had breached these walls only twice.
The first time the mountain defenses were pierced, humanity was pushed all the way to Penheim's capital, Thessalon, and Monark's capital, Rubie, on the brink of annihilation.
The second breach saw everyone present—knights, soldiers, and residents—sacrifice themselves to keep from hindering the heroes advancing beyond the front lines toward Helzev.
Before and after those incidents, the Raviere Mountains, garrisoned by the Hooksclo Knights, had never been in peril.
Yet recently, soldiers began reporting strange symptoms.
As cases requiring temple treatment for stomachaches, nausea, and mild diarrhea increased, Whitelett Margrave ordered an investigation.
He eyed the demon god statue on his desk with suspicion.
'Could this be the cause?'
The grotesque figure of a woman with horns sprouting from her forehead and eyelids.
But he sensed nothing unusual from the statue.
Judging it unlikely to cause a mass outbreak, he rose to leave—only for a subordinate to knock and enter.
"Excuse me, Commander. I think we've found the cause."
"Good. What is it?"
It had been less than two days since he'd ordered the probe—faster than expected.
But the report wasn't simple.
"It's the water. The groundwater pooling downstream in the Raviere Mountains seems contaminated."
"Groundwater contaminated? Why?"
"Well..."
The subordinate hesitated. The high-altitude Raviere Mountains weren't easily polluted unless by acid rain.
The water locals used below came from a separate tributary created by Terra's magic during the Great War.
Contamination in the flow from the Sen River through Senrir Lake sparked a hypothesis in Whitelett's mind.
"Don't tell me... Roshiar?"
"Yes. We just got a report from Sir Hans: he found ice fragments presumed from Senrir Lake."
The lake, filled with demon corpses, was thawing, spreading corpse poison.
The ice was melting. That meant one thing.
"They're on the move, then. Direction?"
"No alerts to our side."
"Really?"
"Yes. We sent a messenger to the capital for confirmation—no reply since the friendly letter about Roshiar’s second daughter winning the magic counteroffensive."
Heading to Helzev? But why wait until now?
Roshiar's ice magic doubled in winter.
She'd hunkered on the lake during peak unique spell season—odd to move as it warmed.
Her house head had even said no plans to melt the ice last time.
Something had made her move.
"Contact the temple first—send holy water and priests."
"What about the demon corpses?"
"Fish them out. Leave them, and the water's ruined. Inform nearby residents and get their cooperation."
The subordinate left with a doomed expression, dreading the massive civilian aid ahead.
Alone, Whitelett sat, gazing beyond the mountains at the dark red Helzev.
If Estelle Sylvestra de Roshiar moved now, it wasn't there.
Her destination was elsewhere.
'Not the demon realm... the North Sea?'
Adenbury. Roshiar count family territory—her hometown.
Penheim's maritime city, ringed by archipelagos and relentless house-sized waves.
"Adella, want to grab a meal together?"
Since learning of Adella's bullying, Erzebet fussed over her more than others.
Same age, similar status.
Same year meant more chances to interact, but it was genuine concern over politics.
"Is that okay?"
"Of course. Come on. We're hitting a restaurant in town today."
Erzebet wanted Adella to adjust to academy life.
From watching, Adella lacked basics or self-care—she was refined.
She used knife and fork from the outside in flawlessly.
Folded her napkin neatly on her lap.
Clothes tidy if not perfect, with a faint fresh scent from regular laundering.
No reckless acts bothering others.
Paid her exact share post-meal.
"Adella? Why buy those flowers?"
"For honey dessert."
Her quirks defied common sense sometimes.
A flower bouquet from a street girl—Erzebet desperately stopped Adella from eating it.
"Please, Adella! Just buy honey! Never do that again."
"Okay."
Pharenchia's streets bustled with nobles seeking meals and fun off-campus.
Emerging through the crowd, they scanned for a carriage.
One stopped; boys ahead gestured gallantly.
"Ride with us, Princess. And your lovely friend, like the flowers you're holding."
Four-seater—Erzebet politely accepted.
But Adella, noting their stares at her chest, stepped back.
"No. Don't wanna."
"Pardon...?"
"Adella!?"
Her blunt refusal, un-noble-like, flustered them.
"Sorry, we're not heading straight back to the academy."
"Pii—."
Erzebet excused them away, then boarded the next with Adella.
In the jolting cramped space, staring out the window, she gently advised.
"Adella, avoid rude behavior. You could've refused more softly."
"Sorry."
"Why not? Chance to bond with fellow students."
"I... don't like dumb people."
Straight-faced, Adella said it.
Even Erzebet, raised amid palace intrigue, couldn't read her.
Or comprehend.
'Harsh self-loathing...?'
Best she could guess.
Changing topics, she turned.
Safer subject.
"What do you want from the academy, Miss Adella?"
"Me? Marriage."
Not unique spells or magic—marriage talk from a freshman was bold, but Roshiar made sense.
Erzebet had to care—Roshiar meant that.
Unique spells aren't picture books.
Passing vast knowledge and theory is near-impossible.
Needs archduke talent.
"Like father, unlike son"—she agreed, no mage in history succeeded with kids.
Sole exception: Roshiar.
Bloodline inheritance. Shocking.
Proficiency varies, but...
Adella's marriage meant more than pairing—merged houses reshape power.
Help her wed, create debt; arrange pro-royal match—boost position?
Erzebet's mind raced.
"Needs at least a count."
"Naturally. The Flower of the North Sea isn't for lowly suitors."
"Yeah. Don't like dumb people."
"Me too, honestly. But everyone has roles."
Finally, rapport.
Erzebet smiled warmly—then—
"So, Princess."
"Yes?"
"Make Teacher Louis a count?"
Clunk!
The carriage rattled hard on smooth bricks.
Finally done. Canteen Branch 2, for the cafe.
Dark red wood added luxury.
Like the original, big windows for light, ample lamps—not too heavy.
Cozy yet formal—Darling's taste subtly influenced.
Her aesthetics trustworthy—no customer drop-off.
"Heave-ho! Took forever."
I hung the sign, swept the floor.
Slipped through back door to counter, stowed tools.
Plumbing fixed, capital-shipped tea and beans stocked—
Ready to open, but one issue.
"All done, boss? Help with the register?"
Liv swamped—more customers than usual.
Even after time on job, this was her pace.
They skipped when I manned it all day... Some claimed just learned of it.
School rules? Don't they read?
'Tch, should've hired cute part-timers sooner.'
Revenue up, but derails plan: Liv at cafe, me at canteen.
Opening rush? Impossible duo.
Hire one more?
Empire of yogurt someday—short-term hires fit a ruler.
But students want cafe work? None applied before.
Worst case, split shifts myself. Posted another ad.
Like lureless fishing.
Immediately—
"I'll do it."
Sigh.