A Mother's Silent Wrath in the Frozen North
Even as the capital city began to warm in the spring air, a bitterly cold wind pierced the skin of the northern estate.
The Ventus County domain, ruled by the Ventos Count family, boasted rich resources yet suffered treacherous terrain, harsh climates, and swarms of fierce monsters that roiled across the land.
Right now, the shoulders of that domain rested upon Count Kilian Ventos and his wife, Countess Silvia Ventos.
Among them, Countess Silvia devoted herself entirely to the administrative duties and social engagements that her husband had left untouched.
And in the shadows, she orchestrated the deeper undercurrents of the family’s affairs.
The Ventos family’s botanical garden.
It was a grand facility built with enormous expenditure, so that the countess—who adored cultivating plants—could freely grow rare species even in the freezing northern climate.
Except during mealtimes, bedtime, or moments when she lent a hand to her husband’s official duties, Countess Silvia spent nearly every hour in that garden.
And today was no different.
She sat at the table set out beneath the canopy, lifting a teacup to her lips.
As she sipped, her thoughts drifted to her eldest son, the one studying in the capital right now—Kyou Ventos, the first child born between her and Kilian.
In childhood he had been stubborn, always wandering off to play, which had worried her endlessly.
Yet once the engagement to Liliana was arranged and he met her, something shifted.
He became the sort of son who threw himself into martial arts and magic with fierce determination.
Even after the unfortunate end to his first engagement, he had continued to strive, meeting someone new and refusing to give up.
Silvia smiled faintly as the memory surfaced of the day she first met her husband.
It had happened at Gransen Academy, when she—Silvia Illin Pallazinia—crossed paths with the powerful young nobleman Kilian Ventos.
Kilian had been the kind of delinquent who lorded his strength over the other students, acting as if he owned the place.
Yet on the night of the semester-ending party, the boy from the opposing class had taken one look at Silvia and fallen head over heels.
He had pursued her relentlessly, but she, who despised men who relied solely on their power, had rejected him outright.
From that day onward, Kilian changed.
He formally apologized to the students he had once terrorized and threw himself into his studies.
When others were in trouble, he was the first to help, no matter the cost.
When a fellow classmate questioned him, Kilian answered without hesitation.
“I wanted to be loved by Silvia.”
The reason was so transparently sincere it almost hurt to hear.
And it worked.
By their second year they were dating, and by graduation they were engaged and then married.
Silvia let out a soft, quiet laugh.
It was the same instinct that had made her love her husband—and now made her love her son.
The son who was learning swordsmanship from his father and magic from her, and who had just suffered an attack.
As soon as she heard the news, Silvia had acted.
A small shadow descended silently before her.
“Mission accomplished, my lady.”
“Well done.”
The countess showed no surprise at all.
Of course she didn’t.
The shadow belonged to her own trusted subordinate.
“And the result?”
“As expected, my lady.”
The hooded figure raised his left hand.
Another figure stepped forward, knelt, and placed something on the table.
Four severed heads.
“They were the Church covert unit dispatched to kill the young master,” the subordinate reported.
“I exercised my discretion and handled them.”
“Good,” Silvia said calmly, flicking her fingers.
Wooden spears shot from the ground, impaling the heads on the table.
“Even if I had dragged them back alive, I would have killed them myself.”
Her subordinates remained silent, faces pale.
When she spoke again, her voice was colder than the northern winds.
“The Church has troubled our domain, but I had no desire to clash with them openly, so I let it pass.”
One of her subordinates swallowed.
“But now that they have drawn steel against the family itself…”
Silvia flicked her fingers once more.
The spears vanished back into the earth.
The only sound left was the soft clatter of the heads dropping.
“What shall we do with them?”
“Dump them in the courtyard of the Central Church,” Silvia replied.
“Since they have no evidence or witnesses to offer, that should suffice.”
A small, satisfied smile curved her lips.
“And we will keep pressing from the shadows.”
From that day, knights began patrolling the academy grounds and dormitories with unusual regularity.
The students who had once gawked at the sight gradually accepted the explanation: the dormitory break-in the previous week.
There was one more change that surprised everyone.
Alan Ludwig had simply vanished.
His once-devoted followers—those who had trailed after him like shadows—were thrown into confusion.
They even showed up en masse at the academy dean’s office, demanding to know where their master had gone.
“Student information is confidential,” the dean had said flatly.
The students had no choice but to accept it.
But the fallout had reached my desk as well.
Because my relationship with Alan was not exactly friendly.
“You chased him away because you were jealous, right?!”
The accusation came from the usual suspect who had no idea what he was talking about.
“You know where Alan is, don’t you?!”
I had no reason to tell him, so I simply shrugged.
“What exactly do you have to be jealous of?”
I wasn’t about to admit it aloud, but the truth was painfully obvious.
Alan was a commoner with nothing but good looks and a sharp tongue.
He had money, decent grades—except in theory subjects—and an aura that made him look better than he actually was.
The only problem was that this world quietly leveled everyone’s appearance, so he fit right in with the average crowd.
Yet I, a high-born noble with money and connections, had no reason to be jealous of a poor commoner who simply looked pretty.
The students who had once followed Alan blindly had scattered in the wake of his disappearance.
Aria Owen and Phelis Valtreia, for example.
Both had known why he left and had even been on the receiving end of his attack.
They had done nothing since.
If anything, they had begun spending more time with Riel and Emilia lately.
Refia Albein was another surprise.
She had been Alan’s opponent in the second round of the Martial God Festival and had lost.
Yet she showed no dramatic reaction to his absence.
Instead, she threw herself into her studies and training.
It was almost strange.
“Kyou!”
After classes ended and I was packing my bag, Riel came dashing toward me, eyes bright.
She stopped a respectful distance away and offered a warm smile.
When I glanced behind her, Emilia, Aria, and Phelis stood together.
It looked like they had just finished talking.
Emilia waved cheerfully; Aria and Phelis shrank back, looking nervous.
“Did something happen?” I asked, tilting my head.
“Oh… I need to go somewhere for a bit today.”
“Sure, I can come along.”
“It’s just… my new maid is arriving today.”
“New maid?”
“Yes, she’s been sent from the Ducal House.”
“That’s… kind of sudden.”
“Iria quit suddenly, and Phyllis is already stretched thin with both of us.”
“So you’re getting a replacement?”
“Apparently.”
“I don’t even know the name yet—only that it’s Luca Altran.”
“Luca Altran?”
“She’s only eighteen, a bit clumsy, and very nervous.”
“Still, it’s nice to have someone new.”
Riel hesitated, then pulled a crumpled letter from her pocket and unfolded it.
“It’s in the letter—Luca Altran.”
“Well, at least her name is something.”
The Central Church.
Headquarters of the World Tree Church, the continent’s supreme holy seat.
Chaos reigned there from the moment the sun rose.
The trouble began with one of the priestesses, coming out to clean the front gate and the vast garden beyond.
She was sweeping diligently when she heard the soft sound of dripping water.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
There had been no rain for days, so the sound was strange.
Following the noise, she found a small pool of water on the ground.
More drops fell from the leaves above.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
Only when she looked closer did she realize the liquid was bright red—blood.
And floating among the drops were four severed human heads.
“Aaaahhhhhhhhhh!!”
The scream echoed through the halls, waking every priest in the building.
Most simply recorded it as a bizarre murder.
But the high-ranking clergy gathered at once.
Because they all recognized the faces.
“Reports went silent for weeks… and this?”
Cardinal Gerald muttered, staring at the four heads.
They had been members of the Church’s covert assassination unit.
Most had been slaughtered on the spot when they arrived at the academy.
Four survivors had reported back earlier.
Then the reports simply stopped.
Now only their heads had returned.
“Who… no, wait, could it be the king’s side?”
Gerald’s mind raced.
A priest burst into the room.
“Your Eminence! Urgent news!”
“What now?”
Gerald snapped, already on edge.
“It’s… it’s about Sister Alicia Melote.”
“What about her?”
Alicia was strong, yes, but no real threat.
He had only felt a flicker of unease when she vanished, nothing more.
“She’s still traveling with the group.”
“And?”
“I think the people traveling with her… might be from the Ignis ducal house.”
Gerald’s face hardened.
He was gone before the sentence finished.