A Warm Welcome to the Frozen North
The northern territories were a place shunned by all in the Empire.
A cursed land he wouldn't have dreamed of visiting if not for the count's orders.
It was only natural, considering the barren soil, the frozen climate, and the eternal, unmelting snow.
Tsk.
Kian didn't believe in gods, but if the main deity truly existed, he was certain he was one of the chosen.
Despite his humble family background, he was a mage.
He had decent skills and connections, but his origins always held him back.
'Putting a fallen noble in an important position? That's just not done, right?'
But that was something a bit of patience could fix.
Success was promised.
Not for money, but for promotion and family honor.
'Just pretend to work. That's enough.'
He felt a twinge of guilt toward the grand ducal house, but nothing mattered more to Kian than his own well-being.
The selfishness typical of mages.
Besides, the grand duchy was known as a mage's graveyard.
Endless tasks, but a woefully inadequate supply of mages.
The North couldn't be changed by one person's effort anyway.
It had already become a land of walking corpses. Only a grand archmage or the North's guardian deity could make a difference.
As he let out a deep sigh, the coachman rang the bell, signaling they'd reached the castle gates.
Beyond the frozen river loomed massive walls.
"This is... not what I expected."
"Yes... the location is definitely correct, but..."
A land that froze even life itself.
He'd imagined bricks encased in ice, with snow piled like mountains on top.
Instead, everything was pristine, the stones gleaming with polish. Something was off.
Did they prepare because I was coming to the North?
The grand duchy's chronic mage shortage was infamous.
So it wasn't strange for them to make preparations for a rare visiting mage.
Feeling a bit recognized, he suppressed a smile and entered the checkpoint.
Two knights surrounded the carriage.
The grand ducal knights were renowned even in the capital.
Their absolute loyalty to their lord and territory shone undimmed despite the decline.
"What is the purpose of your visit?"
"I'm a mage sent by Count Lupiento."
Lifting the window cover revealed the rugged features typical of northerners.
"Ah... yeah, whatever. You can go in."
Another letdown from his expectations. They should have welcomed him...
Even after passing the checkpoint and entering the inner castle, no one from the grand ducal house came to greet him.
"Why is it so hot in here...?"
Whether from embarrassment or not, heat rose in his body.
He shed his new thick fur coat and opened the carriage door.
"What the...?"
Not white snowfields, but green grass.
Not a frozen river, but sparkling streams.
It was prosperous enough to pass for the central regions.
"This is definitely the right place..."
The coachman, equally baffled, checked the map dozens of times.
"Well then... I'll be off. See you in half a year."
Scratching his head, the coachman turned the carriage around and left.
Kian was left alone in the confusion.
"Sorry about this. I'm a bit late."
As he dazedly looked around, an old man's voice reached him.
"I've been so scatterbrained lately. At my age, it's hard to adjust."
Despite his advanced years, the man's neat suit and glowing skin made it seem like he was just chatting idly.
Guided by the Grand Duke's Castle steward toward the main building, lush greenery and vibrant flowers bloomed everywhere.
"This is the main hall."
A massive gate filled his view.
Another oddity: no gatekeeper.
The steward approached with a kindly smile.
Northerners were said to be incredibly strong—surely the old man wasn't opening it himself?
Clap, clap.
His curiosity shattered with two claps from the steward.
The huge gate opened on its own at the feeble sound.
No creaking from such heavy doors.
"Magic...?"
A mage's eyes—eyes that read mana—confirmed it was magic.
Even the capital's imperial palace used gatekeepers...
Maybe the rumors about the North were all lies.
Kian discarded his previous thoughts and waited for the gate to open.
Through the gap, the main hall's interior was simply beautiful.
"Hm?"
Not just the indifferent expression of the girl gazing at the place.
Turn his head—magic. Look elsewhere—more magic.
Magic, magic, magic everywhere.
It was beautiful.
He saw torrents of mana like waterfalls, intricate calculations intertwined.
The sheer volume would take every mage in the world five years to produce.
Invaluable, beyond money.
If this was a mage's graveyard, he'd gladly be buried here forever.
Kian was captivated by the stunning sight before him for a long while.
Uh. That guy's drooling.
I was adding a new "self-moving magic" to the stairs near the main entrance.
With the claps, the gate opened, revealing a brown-haired boy in the gap.
Probably the mage Arwen mentioned yesterday.
Sent by the count, no doubt.
"The grand duchy... was this prosperous...?"
He dropped his bag on the ground and muttered something ridiculous.
We're still outside, dude.
"Who on earth designed the magic on this gate? An Elmaster? And the warmth enveloping the castle—is that magic too?"
Ah, great reaction.
I approached the excited boy spilling words and offered my hand.
"Ahem. Just a little trick. I'm Ruen."
"Uh, uh. Got it. I'm Kian."
Kian shook my hand halfheartedly, then turned back to the steward.
What the—?
"Please, at least tell me your name. I need to know. I must know."
The steward, faced with Kian's desperate plea, gave me a troubled glance.
He couldn't recognize a mage even with magic right in front of him—like mistaking a sickle for a G.
I'd never used magic on a person before.
Snap.
And the glorious first target was Kian.
A magical flick to the back of his head, and he turned with a dumbstruck look.
Finally looking this way.
"Uh...?"
"The mage is right over there, sir."
With the steward's follow-up, I puffed up my shoulders proudly.
"No way, no mana core...?"
Right. As Kian said, I had no mana core.
I didn't even know what that was. First I'd heard of it.
It's homemade magic!
Not even in the original novel.
This was a generic churned-out novel anyway...
The protagonists weren't mages, so such details weren't described.
To shake off the awkwardness and finish the magic I was making, I headed back to the stairs.
As I waved my hand, natural mana gathered and wove into a magic circle.
The perfectly completed circle glowed, and the stairs began moving on their own.
Ahem.
Glancing back, Kian wore a very, very satisfying expression.
I sat up in bed to see the sun already high in the sky outside.
A real late sleep after ages.
Rubbing my tired eyes as I stepped out, the reason for my oversleep was right there.
"Please take me as your disciple."
Since arriving in the North yesterday—and after a brief greeting with Arwen—Kian had been following me around.
How'd you make this magic? What's that formula for?
It's just slapdash stuff...
I couldn't take a disciple when I didn't even know the precise principles of my own magic.
"Please. Even as an apprentice—no, an assistant."
The word "assistant" shook me a little.
Assistant. In modern terms, a grad student.
A legal slave sanctioned by the state and system.
...Not bad?
My short legs made traversing the vast castle inconvenient anyway.
"If it's just an assistant..."
Kian straightened up the moment I opened my mouth, his face lighting up.
"Th-thank you! So, what magic today...?"
"Water."
"Pardon?"
"WATER!!!"
At my command, Kian bolted down the hall like an arrow.
Soon he returned with a silver cup frosted over.
Performance test complete.
Satisfied, I grabbed the cup and gulped the ice water.
"S-so, what's next...?"
"Chocolate."
"Yep!"
Pretty stable performance.