The Academy's Scandalous Duel and the Northern Roads Complete
"Too wordy, this guy?"
"Your Grace, it seems working as a poet makes his preambles a bit long."
"I thought it was urgent news, but it's nothing much?"
"Please keep reading, Your Grace."
To the great Theodore von Ardorno Iphera Wintergard, Grand Duke of the North.
Greetings, Your Grace, the Empire's mighty shield and sole master of the snowcapped peaks. Guardian of the bitter cold, protector of our borders, steel flower blooming through eternal ice—I fervently pray that the sun of the North shines upon you.
For this report on recent Imperial trends, I have gathered intelligence from the Imperial Academy and...
"Von Bart's lady and the Crown Prince? A duel between fiancés?"
"The Bart family wields considerable influence in the Empire."
As previously reported, the five students—including the Crown Prince—are all figures of significant influence in the Empire, yet they are utterly smitten with a single student. Her name is Cartina de Bosch, a lady from an insignificant house.
Cartina used her talents and silver tongue to approach these five, successfully capturing their hearts. They all vie desperately to impress her in hopes of marriage.
However, due to her lowly status and frequent clashes with Daniela von Bart—who worries for the Empire's future—their relationship has soured.
Daniela and Cartina have long been bitter enemies.
"Is the Academy some beastly jungle? Kids will be kids, I suppose."
"Even Your Grace could show a little sympathy."
"Ow! Wolves only need one woman! Next!"
In any case, the incident occurred a week before this report was written. The Crown Prince invited everyone to the Academy's grand hall for an event ostensibly to honor Cartina's outstanding grades—though it was clearly a ploy to impress her.
Daniela, uninvited, stormed in. I was there observing, but her entrance was shockingly subtle. She wore clothes matching Cartina's dress color, the same necklace, and a ring emblazoned with her family crest.
The Crown Prince hurled insults at Daniela: "This isn't a place for the likes of you! How dare you slander the Crown Prince!"
Furious, Daniela glared at Cartina, who smirked and hugged the Crown Prince. "Your Highness, please don't get so angry. Lady Daniela's intentions weren't malicious. How could a lady from a humble house like mine...!"
Hearing this, Daniela yanked Cartina from the Crown Prince's arms and slapped her...!
"Thrilling stuff. Tell this guy the ducal house will sponsor him—have him write a play."
"We're already funding him."
The Crown Prince, enraged, shoved Daniela to the floor and pulled Cartina back into his embrace. To win her favor, he made his move.
"I declare it now! Daniela von Bart! I hereby break off our engagement!"
"Your Highness! What do you mean? After all I've done for you...!"
"I'm sick of your fake smile! I choose to unite with Cartina. You're nothing to me now!"
In her rage, Daniela challenged Cartina to a duel, staking her family ring. But immediately...
"Bullying the weak? Unforgivable! Cartina, let me fight for you!"
"No, stay out. If I can shine as Cartina's knight..."
"I love Cartina more than any of you! Cartina, I swear my knightly oath to you...!"
Cartina's fanatics swarmed in. Poorly, Lady Daniela von Bart had no knight present, and she fell without a proper fight.
By the time this letter reaches Your great Grace, Lady Daniela may already have been cast out by her family or driven mad.
Rumors say the Bart family has quietly petitioned the Imperial House to cover it up.
Great and mighty shield of the North, Wintergard Your Grace! Thus ends my report on the Academy. Your faithful servant, Cardo de Bill.
"Good read. Alfredo, he writes well."
"Indeed. The Academy's no picnic either."
The Northern Grand Duke's office was always cold. No matter how fiercely the hearth blazed, a chill inevitably lingered in Winter Castle, where I was born.
Wait—born? That might be a problem. This world wasn't the one I knew.
No towering concrete skyscrapers, just medieval stone and drama-like buildings. I realized this was a novel's world exactly twenty years ago—after inheriting the Northern Grand Duke's title.
It could've been a straightforward world, but no: a mass-produced romance fantasy called Heart-Pounding! Let's Make a Reverse Harem~!
"Eh, probably has nothing to do with us up North. Let's move on?"
"The North matters more than the Academy anyway."
"Spot on, Alfredo."
Plus, after landing here as the Northern Grand Duke? The North barely appeared—a single scene where the Duke meets the Crown Prince and Emperor at an Imperial party, clashes a bit, then vanishes. A mere mob, an NPC.
Barbarians prowling, endless blizzards poised to devour the world. Such descriptions abounded, but the North's reality was far worse.
"So, what's the current progress? No—the reports are too damn late!"
"Building roads is grueling work, and you know the paths south are limited."
"It's been nearly five years! Five years, and the money we've poured in... Completion news is overdue!"
Upon inheriting young, I dove into developing the Northern territories: welcoming nomads, subduing them, cultivating cold-resistant crops, mining the encircling mountains.
Northerners excel at harsh labor and obey well, which helps, but headaches abound.
Now, as the novel nears its climax, per canon: Daniela gets exiled by the Barts, wanders the continent, gets kidnapped by bandits, suffers horribly, and takes her own life. Tragic, but what can I do?
"Your Grace! Your Grace! It's Bildo. May I enter?"
"Yeah! Bildo! Come in quick!"
Bildo headed my ambitious Northern road project. Too massive to entrust lightly, but Father's gift: older, but a genius at his craft.
"It's complete! We succeeded with the tunnel! Now the entire North is linked by roads!"
Bildo unrolled the map. Pre-me, the Empire-sized North was 99% untamed wilderness, 1% settled.
But development kicked off: nomads flooded in, population boomed, settlement accelerated.
Yet chaotic roads and winter supply breakdowns persisted! I poured over 10% of the budget yearly for five years—magic stones for paving, manpower for tunnels.
"Bildo! You did it! We're set! Set, I tell you!"
"Congratulations, Your Grace! Does this mean the North bids farewell to the cold?"
"That's my bet, Alfredo. Now wagons will haul fuel down these roads every winter. Firewood? Nah, magic stones."
"People will swarm them too, right?"
"Exactly! No more tough fights—just follow the road anywhere!"
Hahaha! Laughter echoed endlessly.
The North battles the cold. Nomads too, but food and frost are top woes. I'd laid foundations, but the ultimate goal: roads! With roads, anything's possible.
But who knew this policy—and skyrocketing per-capita output—would...
"...."
"Greetings, Your Grace."
...become my wedding dowry.