Liberation
I was in a really awkward situation right now.
"The fireplace is out, but there's all this warmth..."
"It's like we've come to the south."
The magic circle I'd scribbled on roughly just moments ago had flown right out of my hands the instant it was complete.
About five minutes after the butler dashed outside.
In that time, word must have spread like wildfire through the castle, because my room was now packed with people from the Grand Duke's Castle.
Including the Grand Duke herself—and even the knight commander, my mortal enemy from the hut raid.
The rest were servants. From the looks of the crowd, it seemed like they'd rounded up every single one.
Me, a precious guest. In my room...!
As despair started to sink in, a maid behind me tried to step inside with her leather shoes.
Hey? Wait a sec!!
"Eek! Gah—!"
"She says to take off your shoes before entering."
The Grand Duke had perfectly understood my shout, so the message got through just fine.
This was utterly unthinkable. How could anyone wear dirty shoes into a room where people live?
The servant from the mansion obeyed my command, slipped off her shoes by the door, and stepped inside.
"Ah, sorry about that... Wow, it really is warm in here. Does this mean we finally have a mage...?"
Yeah, feels even better without the shoes, right?
Praise makes even whales dance.
If it can make a 100-ton whale flip in the air, then surely people would do backflips for it.
The awkwardness vanished in a flash, replaced by pure pride.
Every single one of them wore expressions of awe at this first taste of heating magic.
But isn't heating magic something the mage got from the count?
I nearly blurted out the loan certificate details but bit my tongue just in time. Impressive self-control!
"Agh...!"
Second time today feeling that sharp sting. Same spot, too.
Doubled the pain.
The servants' faces filled with worry as I writhed in agony.
"Ah, do you... have trouble speaking...?"
What kind of insulting nonsense is this? Few people are as fluent as me.
Three languages, no less: Korean, a bit of English, and the imperial common tongue!
"No... I... don't..."
Of course, chatting casually with strangers was a whole different story.
Like not being able to tell the hairdresser to fix a botched cut.
Not easy at all...
"Ah! My apologies..."
I flashed a smile at the servant apologizing for her earlier slip-up.
"I've never been in a place this warm. I thought the fireplace was what made it cozy..."
"Tell me about it. I'm sweating just standing here!"
My room was spacious enough, but the growing crowd was starting to cramp my style.
A room for a precious guest. My room.
These folks had survived the North's freezing air every day, huddled by fireplaces and braziers.
I could understand, but still—this room was mine.
A solution to reclaim my space popped into my head.
I pushed through the servants and knights into the corridor.
"Hmm."
Pressing both index fingers to my temples, I spread mana from my body to scan the massive castle.
The target: dead center of the castle. I analyzed every distance and angle meticulously.
"This way..."
Ah, not here. I turned around.
"Wh-what is it?"
Lost in concentration, I hadn't noticed the entire mansion staff trailing behind me like ducklings.
"Wondered where you were headed. Am I in the way?"
"...No! Not at all."
I answered the Grand Duke and headed toward the castle's heart again.
Each breath sent white puffs across my face as I walked.
Better than outside, but my earlobes still stung with cold.
The castle's interior was crystal clear to me. I'd scanned it all with mana, after all.
But even the best navigation can't save someone who gets lost—like me.
"Probably around here. But why the center?"
In the end, I asked the Grand Duke for directions and finally reached the castle's central courtyard.
Proving it with actions instead of words? Always cool.
That's me too!
Eyes closed, I calculated the exact center—not a millimeter off.
Right here. Next to the well.
I swept away the thin layer of snow with my feet, clearing the frozen brick floor, then plopped down to prepare the magic circle.
Neither I nor this body's original owner had ever formally studied magic.
The laws of this world and mana correlations awakened naturally upon possession.
My body performed magic instinctively, no effort required.
The circle I was about to draw would envelop the entire castle.
This would be my second time making one this massive.
The first was a test when building my hut.
There'd been some nasty side effects back then...
But heroes don't sweat the aftermath! Everything has risks.
Sitting, eyes shut, I envisioned the ideal magic: hot spring water.
Not scalding hot—just enough to thaw frozen muscles.
Nature was my paint, the world my canvas.
Imagination complete, I pulled back from the mental image.
Everything in my vision shimmered in my unique colors, elemental rings linking before my eyes.
My fingers were brush and battering ram. Nail and hammer.
The moment they touched the floor, the world faded away.
Only me and the world remained in my sight.
One stroke: shatter an elemental ring, rearrange it. Next stroke: paint the world in my magic's hue.
Mind empty, focus sharp—the circle finished in moments.
I simply traced the visible path with my finger. No big deal.
As I dotted the final point, light burst from the sprawling pattern filling the courtyard.
With the light came warmth that filled the space.
It melted the frost on the bricks and snow piles, then drove out the bone-deep chill.
My magic circles absorb natural mana, overlaying formulas onto the world.
Not the standard way novel mages did it.
My unique method, born solo.
Natural mana never runs dry, so the castle would stay cozy from now on.
"Whoa...!"
The spreading warmth had everyone shedding their heavy outer layers one by one.
They loved it this much? Yep, I really am a precious guest.
Pride swelled—but only briefly.
"Ugh...!"
"Wh-what's wrong?! You okay?"
My body screamed. A warning signal before the truly horrific backlash hit.
"Doctor!"
"No, not that... "
The castle doctor, brown bag in hand, came sprinting at his master's call.
It wasn't some injury.
Just a bit of weakness, stomach rumbling faintly.
In other words... I was a little hungry.
"Chef, please..."
Food is important!
Arwen felt a sense of liberation as she headed to her office.
Not just emotional relief, but physical lightness too.
She'd ditched the fur jacket that always weighed her down, now in comfortable clothes.
Even wearing slippers—those things that had only been novelties before.
Ruen had hated slippers in her room, for some inexplicable reason.
An odd quirk she couldn't fathom.
Inside the office, the fireplace that burned logs daily was on its first vacation ever.
Arwen sank into her chair.
What Ruen had spread through the castle today wasn't just warmth.
It was hope—a feeling lately dismissed as a joke in the North.
Dusty window sills gleamed, wiped clean by eager servants.
The empire had plenty of slurs for northerners, but the main one was "lazybones."
Unless you were a Swordmaster like her father, transcending physical limits, restrictions were inevitable.
Come try it yourselves.
No matter how much you bundled up, bones ached; no matter how much you ate, hunger lingered.
To conserve the North's scant resources, minimizing activity was best.
Now, the Grand Duke's Castle buzzed with unprecedented energy.
If only they could commercialize this...
Spring had come even to this symbol of endless winter.
A ray of light shone for Arwen, for the North.
As she pondered next steps, a knock echoed from the office door.
"Are you in?"
"Come in."
The knight commander opened the door.
"Here's the list of stolen items you requested."
Arwen took the paper.
It was filled edge-to-edge with dense writing, no gaps.
"Two chests of gold coins, 32 bolts of silk, and 417 pounds of food."
"...Quite a haul."
This matched three months' operating funds for the duchy.
Why hoard unusable wealth in a tiny hut?
What reflected in those rainbow irises?
A beautiful hue unseen anywhere in the empire.
Every action was some baffling eccentricity.
"By the book, we should return it, right?"
"Yes. 'By the book,' that is."
The knight commander emphasized the phrase.
Principles were hollow words in the duchy, in the North.
Blizzards outran imperial law; magic beasts arrived before edicts.
Especially money from a count blatantly scheming to swallow the duchy.
They'd endured it before, bound by their mage shortage—but not anymore.
"What’s Ruen doing now?"
"She had a couple spoonfuls of soup in the dining hall, then returned to the guest quarters. Shall I fetch her?"
"No. That's all—go. I'll write to the count myself."
Knight Commander Albert bowed and left.
"Oh, and... why do you think the count was shipping this much money north?"
Albert paused at the door.
"I'll look into it."
A faint smile tinged his voice.
Liberation wasn't hers alone.