An Unexpected Talent
Clip-clop, clip-clop.
Three horses trod along the narrow path winding between the mountains.
"Abel. Are you truly feeling alright?" Sebas asked, looking back over his shoulder.
"Yes, sir. I am perfectly fine," the grey-haired young man replied with a gentle smile.
"Well, I'll be! Even men with two perfectly good legs struggle on these mountain trails, yet you ride like a natural. Truly impressive!" Alfonso boomed in a hearty voice.
Though the bald knight had a fierce, intimidating countenance at first glance, his eyes shone with genuine admiration.
The reason the old butler and the knight were so astonished was simple: Abel's body was far from whole.
Only one of his eyes shone with a dark, healthy luster; the other had lost its color entirely, clouded over in an opaque, milky white.
Furthermore, the leg resting in his stirrup was paralyzed, devoid of any strength.
Yet, when Head Butler Sebas and Knight Captain Alfonso had suggested avoiding the mountain shortcut, Abel had insisted on taking it anyway—and he hadn't lagged behind for a single moment.
In fact, when they had lost their bearings earlier, it was Abel who had guided them back to the correct path.
"My father taught me how to ride when I was young," Abel said softly.
He refrained from mentioning that his father had taught him not just basic horsemanship, but the advanced mounted combat techniques of a knight.
"I see. Being a skilled rider is a highly useful trait for a servant. The young lady herself quite enjoys riding, after all," Sebas noted, nodding in approval.
As they traveled, Sebas, in his capacity as the head butler of the Valstein family, instructed Abel on the essential rules a servant must prioritize.
Before that, however, he had already begun treating Abel not as a guest of the house, but as an apprentice butler.
"Abel, how many languages can you speak?" Sebas had asked earlier.
"I can speak the language of the Alpha Kingdom, the Beast Kingdom, the Continental Common Tongue, the Stern Empire, Elven, and Dwarven. However... I cannot speak the dialects of the minority tribes."
"Who other than a royal scholar would speak minority dialects? You practically speak every major tongue on the continent. Good heavens..."
The more Sebas learned about Abel, the more astonished he became.
Just what is this young man...?
The breadth of his knowledge was simply staggering.
Beyond languages, Abel possessed an extraordinary ability to identify useful herbs and navigate unfamiliar terrain.
Earlier, when they realized the map Alfonso had brought was outdated and the terrain had changed, leaving them lost and frustrated—
"I can find the way by sensing the underground water veins," Abel had said.
He had knelt, pressed his hand to the earth, and dispersed a minuscule amount of mana to locate the correct direction.
"Head Butler. This lad, Abel... can't you hand him over to my unit as a scout?" Alfonso had pleaded, practically drooling at the prospect of recruiting him.
I'm glad I can be of help, Abel thought to himself.
Though he only had one working eye, Abel could easily sense the high regard in which the two men held him.
Inwardly, he felt a deep wave of gratitude toward the people of his home village.
While his father, Cain, had taught him combat and the ways of the mana road, it was the villagers who had gifted him with these practical skills and diverse knowledge.
They all had such high expectations for me...
Hailing him as the genius who would lead the village into the future, they had selflessly passed down their life's work as if he were their own son.
"To memorize it after seeing it just once...! Hahaha! As expected, Abel, you are the hope of our village!"
"Read this. And this. And this one too. Instead of becoming a savage warrior, why not try your hand at magic? Just listen to your big sister."
"Hehehe... You have no idea how marvelous it is to be able to move a doll that looks exactly like a human. Abel, I'm going to make myself a wife."
Remembering their genuine affection, and the collective despair that had gripped them when they learned his mana road had been destroyed, Abel still felt a pang of guilt.
I must repay them all someday.
As he sat reflecting on the many debts of gratitude he owed, focusing on the rhythmic sway of his mount—
Growl—!
A thunderous rumble echoed through the quiet path.
The horses neighed in surprise.
"An ambush?" Sebas pulled his reins, his eyes narrowing sharply as he brought his horse to a halt.
"Haha... My apologies. I tend to get hungry even after the slightest bit of movement," Alfonso laughed sheepishly.
"Sigh... Captain," Sebas muttered.
Letting out a soft sigh, Sebas turned his gaze toward Abel.
"Abel, what do you say we stop here for a meal?"
"I am fine with whatever you decide, sir."
"Very well. Let us tether the horses and unpack our rations."
Dismounting, Sebas helped Abel down before retrieving a supply sack tied to the back of his horse.
"Tsk... Jerky again? I was hoping for something a bit more filling," Alfonso grumbled.
"And whose fault is it that all the filling rations have already disappeared into your stomach, Captain?" Sebas retorted.
"Haha! Is that so?"
Watching the two banter back and forth, Abel quietly turned his gaze toward the baggage tied to the horses.
"Do we have any spices left?" Abel asked.
"Hmm?" Sebas looked at him, blinking in confusion at the sudden question.
"I noticed you brought a frying pan and some cooking oil. Even with just jerky, I can make a rather delicious meal out of it... if you don't mind waiting a moment!"
As he spoke, Alfonso also began staring at him intently. Fearing he had overstepped, Abel began to stammer.
Ah. We need to reach the estate quickly. There's no time to waste on cooking!
"We can just eat the jerky as it is—"
Alfonso strode over and placed a heavy, gauntleted hand on Abel's shoulder.
"Abel, was it?"
"Y-yes?!"
"We have plenty of time. No, even if we didn't, one must always make time for good food."
"Ah...!"
"Do it! Please, make it right now!"
Alfonso leaned in close, practically begging, while Sebas quietly struck a flint to set up the fire and the pan.
First, soak the jerky in water for five to ten minutes.
Abel poured water into a bowl and submerged the tough strips of dried meat to soften them.
Then, heat the pan, add oil, and stir-fry.
Sizzle—!
The reddish strips of jerky slid across the surface of the black pan. With a practiced flick of his wrist, Abel tossed the meat into the air, catching it perfectly back in the pan.
Swoosh!
He poured in a sauce made of minced garlic, a pinch of sugar, and a blend of spicy seasonings like cajun and pepperoncini, coating the jerky in a rich, mouthwatering crimson glaze.
Gulp...
The savory, spicy aroma wafting through the air was enough to make anyone's mouth water.
"It is ready. Please, help yourselves," Abel said.
The moment Abel gave the word, Alfonso lunged forward, while Sebas politely picked up a fork to take a bite.
"Whoa! What is this?! It's delicious! It's so chewy, and that spicy, smoky flavor is incredible!" Alfonso roared in delight, his reaction loud and dramatic.
"This easily rivals the dishes prepared by the estate's chef," Sebas remarked, nodding in approval after swallowing his bite.
"Haha... Surely not. I'm nowhere near a professional chef's level," Abel scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
But it was undeniable that his skill had coaxed the absolute best flavor out of such simple ingredients.
Once Abel learned something, he never forgot it. He remembered every hand gesture and muscle movement of the mentors who had taught him how to cook.
"Ah! Now that our bellies are full, shall we head out?" Alfonso asked.
Having enjoyed a satisfying meal, the elderly butler, the middle-aged knight, and the grey-haired youth set off once more along the mountain pass.
"This is Valencia, the central capital of the Valstein Duchy," Sebas introduced.
Despite Sebas's words, Abel found himself unable to speak.
He looked down at the city from the high hill.
Colorful rooftops stretched out below, with people bustling through the streets.
The city itself was breathtakingly beautiful, but that wasn't what caught his eye.
"Is that... ice?"
The massive fortress walls surrounding the city gleamed in the sunlight like blue crystal.
"Indeed, it is ice. But it is no ordinary ice. Those are the Ice Walls constructed by our ancestor, the Ice Sword Emperor," Sebas explained.
"Pardon...?"
Had a single person truly constructed such a colossal structure using only their own mana?
"Yes, indeed. When one fully awakens the unique family trait, the 'Ice Soul,' they can create ice that never melts. Those walls regulate their own temperature, whether it's summer or winter. They're incredibly durable, serving as our territory's ultimate line of defense," Alfonso added with pride.
As the knight spoke, Abel instinctively placed a hand over his abdomen.
The memory of Seria flashed through his mind—specifically, how she had sealed the ruptured mana road in his lower body.
Like the everlasting ice of the walls, her cold energy still held firm, plugging the hole in his mana road without wavering.
Clip-clop.
"Captain!" a guard called out.
"Ah, yes. Carry on," Alfonso waved casually to the guards as they passed through the gates.
There are so many people... Ah, even the fountain is made of ice.
Passing by the cheerful citizens, they rode past a plaza fountain sculpted from the Ice Soul's ice and headed toward the lord's castle.
"There is no need for explanation, but that is the castle of the Valstein family," Sebas said.
Sebas was right. There was no need to search for it.
While the castle itself was not made of ice, the vast garden in front of it was adorned with massive ice sculptures.
There was a rearing horse, a sleeping dragon, and even a phoenix taking flight.
"It's... magnificent," Abel murmured.
"These were sculpted by the successive heads of the family who awakened the Ice Soul. Once Lady Seria awakens hers, she will surely erect a sculpture of her own," Sebas explained.
After explaining this to Abel, Sebas spoke briefly with the castle guards.
"Oh, dear," Sebas let out a soft exclamation, looking slightly flustered.
"Is it because of my body? Perhaps someone like me shouldn't enter the castle..." Abel assumed the guards were denying him entry because they had seen him limping.
"No, that is not it. Well... you see, you have been registered as the young lady's guest. And as a guest of the main house, you must pay your respects to the Lord Duke first thing upon arrival," Sebas clarified.
The Lord Duke... my savior's father?
A sudden wave of nervousness washed over Abel.
He had only focused on working as a servant, completely forgetting that he would have to face nobility—and a high-ranking Duke, at that.
What if I make a mistake?
Although Sebas had taught him basic etiquette on the road, he had lived his entire life in a remote mountain village and had never met a noble. He worried he might commit a faux pas and bring trouble upon himself.
"To be honest, the Lord Duke is rarely at the castle, so I did not expect you would have to greet him so soon," Sebas muttered.
The head of the Valstein family was Drynain von Valstein.
His title was the Spear King, Drynain.
Though he had not awakened the Ice Soul, he had pushed his mana road to its absolute limits, transcending human boundaries to reach the pinnacle of spear mastery.
With his godlike spear techniques, he had slain countless hordes of magical beasts emerging from the dungeons connected to the Contaminated Lands. Recently, as the beasts grew more numerous and powerful, he had been constantly deployed to the front lines, despite his status as a Duke.
Yet, for some reason, the Duke was present at the castle today, of all days.
"The Lord Duke has little interest in anyone outside his close circle. As long as you offer a polite greeting, nothing will happen," Sebas reassured him.
Hearing Sebas's words, Abel nodded and followed close behind.
Maids bowed as they passed, and knights greeting the head butler cast curious glances at Abel limping behind him.
"I wish to request an audience with the Lord Duke..." Sebas spoke to the guards.
"He has a brief moment to spare."
"There is no time to tidy your attire, then..." Sebas turned back to Abel and gestured. "Let us go."
Abel immediately followed Sebas into the chamber.
...It looks like a palace.
Since it was a castle rather than a manor, the room resembled a royal throne room.
Square pillars lined both sides of the hall, and a deep blue carpet stretched from the entrance to the center.
At the far end, atop a short flight of stairs, a figure sat upon a throne sculpted entirely of ice.
"I will match your pace," Sebas whispered without looking back.
Despite his limp, Abel maintained a steady pace alongside the butler until they reached the foot of the throne.
Do not kneel. Place your arm across your chest and bow slightly...
Recalling the etiquette he had been taught, Abel offered his greeting to the man on the throne.
"Raise your head," a voice commanded.
At the brief, commanding order, Abel looked up to face the figure before him.
The man possessed the exact same light-blue hair as Seria de Valstein.
However, unlike Seria's wavy locks, his long hair fell in perfectly straight lines.
Even his eyebrows matched the color of his hair, and his eyes were a piercing, icy blue.
To Abel's eyes, the nobleman looked no older than himself. He sat with his elbow resting on the armrest, propping up his chin as he looked down with a bored expression.
There isn't a single sign of aging...
The word "youthful" did not do it justice.
Seria was clearly a young adult. It was impossible for a parent with a child of that age to look so young.
It's the same as Father and Mother.
But Abel was already familiar with this phenomenon. Warriors who had fully mastered and activated their mana roads could maintain their youthful bodies for a very long time.
"Lord Duke. This is Abel, the guest of Lady Seria who will be working here at the castle," Sebas introduced.
"I am Abel, my Lord! It is an honor to meet you!" Abel bowed once more, speaking clearly.
"So she has brought home another guest with an ailment. Tell me, where are you from?" the Duke asked.
It was a direct question.
"Pardon...?"
"You did not look surprised upon seeing me."
...Ah.
Anyone else would have gasped at the Duke's incredibly youthful appearance.
Under that cool, penetrating gaze, Abel answered calmly.
"I am from Magia Bell, in the easternmost Avalanche mountain range!"
"Magia Bell... Well, if it is that place," Duke Drynain muttered to himself.
He appeared lost in thought for a moment, before turning his gaze back to Abel.
"If you are from a mountain village, do you happen to know of mountain cave fishing?" the Duke asked, not expecting much.
Mountain cave fishing?
Abel knew it well.
Deep within the heart of high mountains, there were caves where underground water veins flowed. The hobby involved finding weak spots on the mountainside, using mana vibrations to drill a narrow shaft down to the water, and lowering a specialized line to catch the rare fish living inside.
"There is no way you would—" Duke Drynain began, preparing to dismiss him.
"I know how to do it!" Abel declared confidently.
Duke Drynain slowly lifted his chin and sat up straight.
"Indeed. Anyone can lower a fishing line. But finding the exact spot to drill down to the water vein is not something just anyone can—"
"I can do that as well."
At Abel's prompt reply, the Duke leaned forward, his interest piqued.
"Oh?"
A soft murmur of surprise escaped his lips. His previously dull, icy eyes now sparkled with genuine curiosity.
"...?"
"My Lord...?" Sebas, along with the surrounding knights, stared in bewilderment. They had never seen the Duke react this way before.
"Then tell me, how many types of bait can you prepare? Different fish require different bait, after all," the Duke questioned.
"Well... for cave eels, silver carp, stone shrimp..."
Abel rattled off the names of over eleven different subterranean fish species and the specific baits required for each.
"Hmm..." the Duke let out a thoughtful hum, his gaze drifting away from Abel.
He began to twirl a lock of his light-blue hair around his finger.
"Aslan," the Duke called out.
"Yes, my Lord!" a nearby knight answered immediately.
"What is scheduled for next Tuesday?"
"We have the award ceremony for the subjugation of monsters in the Caliburn territory."
"Postpone it until my next return."
"Pardon? Ah! Understood, my Lord!"
Though the award ceremony was a highly important event, the Duke rescheduled it without a second thought.
"Sebas."
"Yes, my Lord."
"You said this boy is going to work here at the castle, correct?"
"Yes... that is correct."
"Clear his schedule for next Tuesday."
At those words, both Abel and Sebas widened their eyes.
"Does that mean..."
"Yes. I am going mountain cave fishing with him."
And just like that, without any input from Abel himself, his schedule was booked for a fishing trip with Duke Drynain.