The Changed Helen Aunt
I arrived at the Karl Castle portal tower one after the other with Cloud Grandpa. From the observation deck at the top of the tower, I gazed out over the landscape of my homeland. Amid the rows of Northern-style houses built to block the wind, the Karl mansion stood out in the distance.
Once a royal palace, the place had lost its kingdom seventy years ago. Now, most of it had been demolished, leaving only the main building and a few annexes—a typical mansion these days.
Still looks rundown as ever.
The Karl territory had always been poor, even back in its kingdom days. The harsh, frigid Northern region yielded pitiful grain harvests, and its remote location on the continent stifled any real commercial growth. Sure, a ton of wealth had poured in during the Meteria Wall construction, but that wrapped up ages ago. Now it was losing steam, slowly declining.
That's humans for you—tough as nails. Quick to draw a sword, and once it's out, they fight to the death.
Grandpa approached from behind me.
"Watch yourself—the folks around here can be pretty brutal. Even I had a hell of a time when I came on expedition."
"Don't worry. I've heard the rumors."
"How so?"
"The Grand Duke of Depravity. Sounds like a real nasty piece of work."
Cloud Grandpa smacked his lips.
"You mean Yan? What a waste of talent. But he's got some weird quirks, don't you think?"
"Like what?"
"When I saw him before, he was just your average punk. How the hell does he reach Master level at that age?"
"Guess you saw something ugly."
I turned and headed down the tower. A crowd of welcomers was waiting at the base. They'd probably been craning their necks for a while, so I figured I should get down there and say hello.
As soon as I stepped out of the portal tower, the welcomers spotted me and stared. My outfit was too damn weird. Dragging my golden shoes, I approached one woman.
It was Helen Aunt. Apparently, right after word spread that I was dead, she'd stepped in to manage the territory in place of Yozef, who was attending the Imperial Noble Academy.
"Your Grace the Grand Duchess. It's an honor to meet you."
Helen Aunt greeted me with a beaming smile.
"White Mask. Welcome. The honor is mine."
"Sorry if I kept you waiting with my slow pace."
"Not at all. We just arrived ourselves."
"Good to hear."
Our polite exchange eased the tense expressions on the Karl retainers trailing behind us. Truth be told, I had a reputation for being a total asshole.
Helen Aunt eyed Cloud Grandpa, who was following me.
"And who might that be?"
"My attendant servant. Old bag of bones—lazy as hell. Hey, Rad, take this."
I tossed the luggage from my shoulder at Cloud Grandpa. As his eyes narrowed, I shot him a mocking smirk, the kind that said if you hate it, leave.
Helen Aunt led me to a carriage outside the main gate.
"I've heard you're close to the forces of darkness, White Mask. Is that true?"
I shrugged.
It wasn't entirely wrong. Shura was from the Kalligo Kingdom, a darkness faction stronghold, and Armida Sis was the absolute spiritual leader of the darkness forces.
Plus, Padilla had swung by the Holy Hall during darkness territory management time and become the Water Great Saintess, and I hung out with Zenbe, an orc from the darkness-aligned race.
"They started out neutral, but the light faction folks are such sticklers. Ended up buddying with the darkness crowd."
"Ah, I see. The light doctrine believers do tend to be arrogant."
I stared at Helen Aunt. What the hell had gotten into her? Sure, she secretly followed the darkness faith, but publicly, she had to at least pretend to be light-aligned.
This was no place to badmouth the light doctrine outright with everyone watching.
Come to think of it, no sign of the cooperation faction.
Karl territory was split into three main factions.
One was the pro-empire cooperation faction, friendly with the Yosrahim Empire; another was the autonomy-focused moderate faction; and finally, the hardline independence faction. But the cooperation faction was nowhere in sight. A couple lurked in the corners, looking crushed.
No doubt about it—they'd been pruned hard over the past year.
This auntie, seriously. Independence? Timing's everything. Just hold out a few years and it'll fall right into your lap, but nope—couldn't wait and stirred up this mess.
Actually, even a few years from now, independence would be a bad idea. The joy would be short-lived—the age of ruin was coming. If they broke off now and made enemies of the Yosrahim Empire, there'd be nowhere to flee when apocalypse hit. They'd all die en masse on their homeland soil.
"By the way, when's the Grand Duke arriving? I only greeted him briefly before."
Helen Aunt's eyes turned icy in an instant.
A stark change from before. She'd light up at the mere mention of Father coming to the territory, but now her face was stone-cold.
"He's coming with the Yin-Yang Great Saintess."
"Ah, got it."
We reached the carriage, where a middle-aged man with a bushy beard waited. Brian Count, the target of this commission.
The count bent at the waist to greet me warmly.
"I'm Brian Count. It's an honor to meet the holy savior of Kara Kingdom. I've heard the tales and longed to meet you."
"Whatever."
I hopped onto an empty horse without a word. Helen Aunt urged me to ride with her, but I politely declined. Getting chummy with her would piss off my late mother down below.
As the procession headed to the Karl mansion, Brian Count stuck to me like glue.
"I was thrilled to hear of your victory last winter, White Mask. Routing Bastain's king with his massive army—truly astonishing. Mind sharing some advice?"
"Advice on what?"
"What was the key to that win?"
"First, the king was incompetent."
"You mean the late Robros King? So the rumor that he allied with you is true?"
"Yep."
I twisted the truth. No point admitting I'd schemed to destroy Robros Kingdom—nothing to gain. Better to let it seem like self-inflicted doom, so Bastain's king could fully claim the throne.
"Next?"
"Robros started a war they couldn't sustain. Even with a huge army, why crawl into the vast Great Desert? You might not know, but Kara's territory rivals the entire Prosia Continent. Supply lines stretch thin, occupied land's too broad for defense—perfect for flanking raids. That's how they reached my Polkin Gate without a fight. War over."
"Hmm, makes sense. But I've heard the Orc Plains are just as vast..."
Brian Count was angling toward the upcoming Yosrahim-orc war. The Orc Plains were huge, too. Including the frozen wastelands uninhabitable by life, it matched the Great Desert plus Prosia Continent combined. Immense.
"Why do you ask?"
"War seems inevitable between Yosrahim Empire and the orcs. Your take?"
I glanced back at Cloud Duke ambling along casually, then lied with conviction.
"Yosrahim loses 100%. Sending human troops into the Orc Plains is a hundred times dumber than Robros marching into the desert."
"Why?"
"Freezing cold. It's brutal here—imagine there. Orcs wouldn't even need to fight. A proper scorched-earth tactic, and Yosrahim's army freezes solid without spotting a single orc."
"Exactly. I think the same."
Brian Count grinned. He was clearly planning to exploit next year's Yosrahim-orc war for independence.
Solid plan. Even mighty Yosrahim would crumble after a million-man massacre. Link up with other rebels then, and independence was easy pickings.
Only hitch: Yosrahim would win.
Those dumb orcs charged headlong at any attack, strategy be damned. Scorched earth would crush them easy—why pull that weird shit?
Soon, I reached an annex in the Karl mansion—my quarters for the stay.
"This is prepared for you, White Mask. Rest easy during your time here."
I nodded at Helen Aunt's words.
"Thanks."
"Rest up from your journey, then we'll see you at the evening banquet."
"Got it. See you tonight."
"Yes."
Brian Count and Helen Aunt's procession departed. Waiting escort knights then led me deeper into the annex.
I flicked a glance at one knight. Roland.
Roland assigned to my quarters...?
Roland was here to help me subdue Brian Count on this commission. His placement meant the client had planned thoroughly.
"You'll stay in this room."
"Got it. Dismissed. I'll call if needed."
"Yes, sir."
Once Roland and the knights left, I entered. Not flashy, but steeped in old Karl Kingdom vibe. The carpet was shagreen tiger pelt, walls a soft yellow.
Cloud Grandpa, who'd followed me in, pouted.
"Didn't peg you for such a softie."
"What now?"
"You really think Yosrahim's army loses to Grollmog's orcs?"
"Yeah."
Cloud Grandpa waved dismissively.
"You're talking out your ass 'cause you don't know orcs."
"I know 'em better than you."
"Then why say that crap?"
"'Cause Yosrahim really will lose."
"How?"
I kept a straight face.
"If you or Grollmog had to die, better you than him."
Cloud Duke's eyes narrowed.
"Meaning?"
I hung my clothes and flopped onto the bed, shoes and all.
"Grandpa, don't fixate on Grollmog. I get why you wanna kill him, but it won't mean shit."
"Why?"
"Someone'll replace him."
"Who?"
"Dunno. Just a feeling."
"That holy Zenbe with you? Mind Master or not, Ilpein Saides shuts him down."
I eyed Cloud Grandpa steadily.
"Where do you come in? Why drag Ilpein Saides into it? You planning to retire?"
Cloud Grandpa glared. Rumors of his death would tank morale for the coming war.
"You little shit!"
"Chill, or don't."
He sighed deeply and sank into a chair.
"Fine. Change topics."
"Shoot."
"What do you make of this mess in Karl territory?"
"Who cares. I just gotta take down Brian Count. You?"
"Lotsa bodies."
I side-eyed him.
"Why?"
"Or everyone's dead."
"By your hand?"
"Yup. Especially that bitch Helen and Brian Count—they can't be spared. Too dangerous for the Empire and the territory."
I chuckled.
"Even you won't kill Helen."
"Why not?"
"Got a request."
"Another commission?"
"Kinda."
"Who's the client?"
"Don't need to know. Dead already."
Cloud Grandpa blinked.
"Dead? Skip it then."
"Nah. Client's a picky old fart. Not as bad as you, though."
He eyed me amusedly.
"Taking dead men's jobs? Your agency's got cred."
"Damn right. Best in the biz."
"Then take one from me?"
"What?"
"When Yosrahim hits ruin's doorstep someday, save it."
I waved him off.
"No way. Not even for a fortune."
"Why?"
"Beyond my paygrade."
"How so?"
"Gotta start by killing you first. Too much for me."
Cloud Grandpa squinted.
"You think I'm dragging Yosrahim to destruction?"
"Speeding it up, yeah."
"How?"
"Dunno how to explain. Just watch from up high. You'll be floored."
I tuned him out and shut my eyes.
Now, how to handle this shitshow? Last year clearly shook things up here—mind-boggling how it got so twisted.
Seeing Helen Aunt earlier, I caught resentment toward Father in her expression.
Obvious reason.
She'd thrown herself into managing as proxy, but Father nitpicked endlessly. Resentment built, then Brian Count's toxic whispers pushed her over.
People with such sweet setups—how do they warp once power's involved? Go figure.
Tch. Father, go easy. Treat her like me and she'll blow a gasket.
One worry: Father's intentions. He'd know about this and have plans. Lotsa deaths in between.
But I had no clue his hit list.
Deep-thinking guy—he'd see killing Brian was necessary for the territory, despite the pity. But ruthless as he was, no guarantee Helen wasn't on it.
If Father targeted her too, what then?
I snapped my eyes open at Cloud Grandpa.
"Grandpa."
"What, brat?"
"You told your kids two wills—one your last words, totally opposite. Which do I follow?"
Cloud Grandpa sharpened his gaze.
"Praying for my death, punk?"
"Nah, someone else."
He stroked his chin, then answered.
"Kid decides. Dead dad can't choose."
"Duh. That's why it's tough."
"Exactly why the kid must. Outsiders don't get the pain."
"Fair."
Guess I'd follow my gut.
Damn reincarnation—why dump this mess on me? Anyway, the god who sent me back? One meeting and I'd punch his lights out.