In the capital city of Svalin, within the duchy of Acaindus, stood a massive training arena.
Supported by towering pillars and open to the sky, this grand training ground was a place where one individual came daily to practice swordsmanship.
Today, like every other day, that person was swinging his sword in the arena.
Redros Acaindus.
Sometimes swift enough to produce the sound of wind, other times as calm as gentle waves, sometimes as solid as stone, and occasionally as fierce as blazing flames.
Redros continuously varied his sword techniques, adjusting his movements.
Then, suddenly, he stopped.
Standing still with his sword in hand, he stared at the empty air. In a swift, nearly imperceptible motion, he slashed at the void, so fast the blade was barely visible.
In a low voice, he muttered, “Who’s there?”
As he spoke, one of the massive pillars supporting the roof bore a deep slash mark.
Redros turned to face the marked pillar, adjusting his stance, sword ready.
“Come out now, or I won’t hesitate to strike next time.”
Clap, clap, clap.
The sound of slow clapping echoed as a man emerged from behind the pillar.
The source of the applause was a man dressed in black, who clapped his hands slowly, as if applauding a remarkable performance. His face was obscured by a mask, making it impossible to discern his expression.
The Seventh Duke, Shine.
Among the demon nobility, he was the most enigmatic—so little was known about him that even his nature as a demon was uncertain.
Of all the dukes, Shine was the hardest to understand, his thoughts and motives shrouded in mystery.
“Impressive swordsmanship. Your techniques never fail to fascinate me. Oh my… to produce such a mark from this distance…”
“Shine. What brings you here?”
Redros’s low voice interrupted Shine, who was admiring the slash on the pillar with intrigue.
Unlike Shine, who seemed perfectly at ease, Redros did not welcome his presence.
Redros disliked the man for two simple reasons: he knew nothing about him, and he loathed Shine’s sly and ambiguous way of speaking.
The Seventh Duke, Shine, was unlike any of the other dukes. Little was known about him aside from his gender and physical appearance. Everything else remained a mystery, thanks to his elusive nature.
He rarely engaged in public affairs, concealing his actions so thoroughly that no one could uncover his movements.
While this allowed Shine to keep himself hidden, it also meant he was unwelcome everywhere.
Though he approached everyone with friendliness, those he approached were invariably wary of him.
In short, Shine was a demon with an exceptionally poor reputation.
His infamous mask only amplified his sinister image.
The mask completely covered his face, with no visible gaps, making it stifling just to look at. One particularly famous rumor claimed Shine had never once removed it.
Although it sounded like mere gossip, the fact that no demon in the Demon Realm had ever seen his bare face lent credibility to the rumor, making it nearly a confirmed truth.
Attempts to remove Shine’s mask were numerous but universally unsuccessful.
Even the strongest in the Demon Realm, including fellow dukes, had failed, for Shine would vanish like a ghost at the slightest hint of such an attempt.
As a result, no one knew what lay beneath Shine’s mask.
His hidden face was a subject of endless speculation among demons. Some imagined him as grotesque, others as impossibly handsome, and some even believed he had no face at all.
These rumors even reached the ears of the dukes.
Redros didn’t believe any of the theories, but he was certain of one thing: beneath Shine’s mask, a sneering smile awaited.
For this reason, Redros openly displayed his displeasure.
Yet Shine seemed entirely unfazed by Redros’s hostility.
With his usual air of friendliness, Shine spoke as if nothing was amiss.
“I came because I have something to tell you.”
“Then say your piece and leave. I don’t want to hear it.”
Turning his gaze away from Shine, Redros dismissed him with a gesture. It was as close to a dismissal as one could get.
“Oh, that might be a problem. Are you sure you don’t want to hear it? What I’m about to say concerns the location of the lovely princess you’ve been searching for.”
Shine’s sly remark shattered Redros’s cold demeanor, compelling him to act.
“Are you certain you…”
Before Shine could finish, Redros’s figure disappeared.
In an instant—so brief it could only be described as a blink—Redros reappeared in front of Shine, his sword pressed against Shine’s neck.
The speed of the action left no time for reaction.
Shine glanced downward. The blade was so close to his neck that even the slightest movement would cause it to cut.
This was no joke; the violent aura emanating from Redros suggested he was ready to strike at any moment.
“Hmm… this is rather…”
“Where is Princess Aria?”
Redros’s low voice interrupted Shine’s idle remark. His tone was sharp, his presence oppressive with violent energy.
“My, my. Could you lower your sword first? This is far too hostile, don’t you think? Ha ha.”
Yet Shine maintained his sly demeanor, casually lowering the blade with his hand.
Though Redros’s threatening aura remained unchanged, Shine seemed utterly unaffected—or at least he gave no outward sign of it.
“Very well. I’ll tell you straightaway.”
Clearing his throat theatrically, Shine began speaking in a recital-like tone.
“According to my information network, the princess was recently spotted traveling with a demon across the Empire.”
“Where did you hear this?”
Redros asked, sheathing his sword, though his gaze toward Shine remained hostile. He clearly had not let his guard down.
“That, I cannot reveal. A man must protect his livelihood, after all.”
“Then why should I believe you?”
Redros growled his question at Shine, his tone like that of a beast on the verge of pouncing. Shine, in response, merely shrugged and replied nonchalantly.
“You don’t have to believe me. I’m just the messenger. If it’s too hard to trust, you could always confirm it for yourself.”
“The Empire is vast. How am I supposed to find Lady Aria in such a sprawling land?”
“Conquering it all would be one way. However, if that’s too difficult, there is another option.”
Shine smiled slyly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.
“Have you heard the rumors about a human known as the Saintess of Prophecy?”
“I have.”
What demon wouldn’t know of that name?
“Why not use her? Who knows, she might even predict the princess’s location for you.”
“Hmm…”
Redros crossed his arms, silent as he appeared to contemplate Shine’s suggestion.
After a moment, his sharp gaze locked onto Shine.
“If this is a joke, I’ll cut off your head and hang it in the streets.”
Redros’s voice carried a weight of intimidation, his words laced with a promise of retaliation against anyone who dared cross him.
“Ha ha! Such frightening words! But I assure you, I’m serious. After all, isn’t the princess an incredibly important figure? Not to mention, a very precious one!”
Shine spread his arms wide, his tone brimming with cheer as if the threat had no effect on him.
“Well then, Redros! What will you do? Isn’t the princess essential to achieving His Majesty’s great ambitions?”
The moment Shine finished his provocative statement, Redros moved.
In a blur, faster than the eye could follow, Redros drew his sword and pressed it against Shine’s neck, his bloodshot eyes glaring fiercely.
“Watch your words, Shine. Call Lady Aria by that title one more time, and your tongue will not remain intact.”
His voice carried a subtle but unmistakable murderous intent, serving as both a warning and a final ultimatum.
The proof of his seriousness was evident: a thin cut on Shine’s neck, from which a small trickle of blood flowed.
“My, my. It seems I’ve made a mistake. My apologies.”
Despite his apology, Shine’s sly smile remained unchanged. However, his actions became more measured, fully aware that he had reached the limits of Redros’s patience.
Even Shine, as cunning as he was, knew better than to push further.
“Now that I’ve delivered my message, I’ll take my leave.”
Shine stepped back a few paces before bowing slightly toward Redros.
“The choice is yours, Redros. Farewell.”
With a snap of his fingers, black smoke erupted around him. When the smoke cleared, Shine was gone.
Redros stood still for a moment, staring at the spot where Shine had disappeared. Then, with a deliberate motion, he sheathed his sword.
“The Empire… and the Saintess of Prophecy… It seems the winds of war are stirring.”
After a brief pause, having made up his mind, Redros began walking out of the training arena. His destination was clear.
He headed straight for Snow’s office.
“Snow.”
“Oh? Lord Redros? You’re here early.”
Snow greeted him warmly as he barged through the door to her office.
Redros strode into the room and dropped himself onto the central sofa with a heavy thud.
“I finished early because I have something to discuss.”
“I see.”
Snow gathered the stack of papers she had been working on, tapping them neatly against the desk before setting them aside.
She quickly stood up and walked over to the sofa, sitting down beside Redros.
“So, what is it you need to tell me? Could it be… a love confession?”
Snow’s gaze held a teasing glimmer, filled with playful anticipation. On another day, Redros might have humored her. But now was not the time.
With a tone devoid of humor, he said, “Issue an immediate recall order to all Dragon Knights.”
Snow’s eyes widened in surprise.
It was no wonder—Dragon Knights were the cornerstone of Redros’s military might, the very force that gave his army its unparalleled strength.
And they were few in number.
The scarcity of Dragon Knights was due to the immense difficulty of their training.
First, there was the cost.
Breeding and maintaining actual dragons required exorbitant resources, and training knights capable of riding them demanded just as much, if not more.
But it wasn’t just about money.
There was another, even more critical requirement: talent.
A Dragon Knight needed the talent to ride a dragon, the skill to tame it, the combat prowess worthy of a knight, the balance to stay steady atop a dragon, and the physical and mental fortitude to endure the rigors of battle.
Such attributes couldn’t be cultivated overnight, which meant the number of Dragon Knights was perpetually limited.
Given their rarity and the effort required to train them, Redros ensured their deployment was always strategic.
He capitalized on their speed and mobility, spreading them out in small, scattered units to maximize their efficiency.
Dragon Knights were strategically dispersed to protect the vast territories as efficiently as possible.
For Redros to summon all of them at once was a rare occurrence, one that signified only one thing: a major event was brewing.
Snow sighed deeply, the sound heavy with annoyance.
“Ah… so we’re issuing a recall order. Does this mean it’s starting again? Well, it has been a long time.”
“It’s not certain yet,” Redros replied, his gaze shifting to the window. “Perhaps it won’t even begin. But if it does, I won’t hesitate to act.”
He stared out at the clear blue sky, its color vivid and refreshing.
“This is preparation for him.”
Inside the rattling carriage, Reina’s voice broke the silence.
“When are we getting there already?”
Her question, tinged with innocent curiosity, echoed in the confined space.
Nice one, Reina.
I gave her a mental thumbs-up.
She had voiced the very question I had been wondering about myself.
We had been traveling in the carriage for a long time, and yet, there were no signs of the northern landscapes we had been told about.
No snow, no chill, no vast white fields—just endless stretches of green grass.
The monotony was starting to wear on me, and I began to question whether we were even heading to the North at all.
Thankfully, Reina asked the question I was too reluctant to voice.
As I waited in anticipation, Agnes finally answered.
“We’re already in the North. We crossed the border a while ago.”
Her answer was nothing short of surprising.
“Huh? We’re already in the North?”
“Yes.”
“But there’s no snow, it’s not cold, and there are no snowmen.”
Reina looked up at Agnes, making a large circle with her arms, as if mimicking a snowman.
Agnes smiled and replied.
“The snowy landscapes everyone associates with the North are only visible near the border of the Eternal Snowfields. Most of the North isn’t much different from other regions, just like this place.”
She turned her gaze to the window, the wind brushing through her hair.
“The rest of the North is similar to any other land.”
“So no snowmen to see?”
Reina’s face fell, her expression drooping with disappointment. She must have been looking forward to seeing snow.
“But don’t worry. If we travel a little further, you’ll start seeing snow soon. We’re almost at our destination.”
“Really?”
Reina’s despondent expression lit up instantly, like a wilting plant suddenly revitalized. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Agnes.
“Yes.”
“Yay! Ruina, we’ll get to see snowmen soon!”
Reina cheered and laughed as she leapt into my arms.
I patted her head as she rubbed her face against me.
“That’s wonderful news. By the way, Lady Agnes, may I ask something?”
“Yes? What is it?”
“Our destination—is it cold? We seem to be short on winter gear.”
It struck me as odd. Despite traveling to a supposedly snowy region, our supplies were notably lacking in warm clothing.
Agnes pondered my question for a moment before replying.
“I don’t think it will be cold for us. You likely won’t feel it either, so don’t worry too much.”
“I see…”
Even so, it felt strange. How could it not be cold in a place where snow fell?
Well, it is a fantasy world. Maybe it’s possible here…
Agnes’s confident demeanor convinced me to let it go.
She’s lived in the North before, so she must know what she’s talking about.
Resolving to trust her, I pushed my concerns aside entirely.
“Ru…Ruina… I…I’m so…so cold…”
“Reina, I…I feel the…s-same…”
A few days later, with our very bones chilled to the core, I regretted that decision bitterly.