Chapter 4: Please Give Me Your Daughter’s Hand

The path leading to the reception room of the Ferbache Ducal estate.

A man introduced himself.

“My name is Enrique. I serve as the Ducal’s aide.”

“As you may already know, I am Yohan Harssen, the third son of Viscount Harssen.”

After hearing the introduction, Enrique smiled faintly and spoke.

“It may be impolite to bring this up immediately, but there is something I must say.”

Yohan tilted his head at his words.

“What is it?”

“The Ducal is very angry.”

Enrique continued.

“Please be mindful of your words and actions. I will try my best to mediate, but if the Ducal’s anger escalates, I won’t be able to protect you.”

In other words, if Yohan upset the Ducal, he might lose his head.

‘As expected.’

Francia’s father, Frost Ferbache, was famously overprotective of his daughter.

He was so popular among female readers that he was often their top pick.

Yohan had spent the night with such a man’s daughter.

He should be grateful that the Ducal hadn’t rushed out and taken his head already.

“We’ve arrived.”

They had finally reached the reception room.

As Enrique opened the door, he gave Yohan a look, signaling for him to kneel immediately.

But Yohan simply smiled and confidently walked into the room.

“…You’ve come.”

The air changed the moment Yohan entered the room.

It became heavy.

No, it was filled with a murderous aura so intense that it was indescribable.

It felt like cold blades were slashing at his body, and the frigid air was slowly freezing him from the inside.

Despite this suffocating atmosphere, Yohan stood tall and straight, unflinching.

The Ducal’s eyebrow twitched as he observed Yohan.

‘This brat had the audacity to act so insolent from the very start, but…

I’ll give him credit for his guts.’

In fact, the Ducal found this oddly favorable.

There weren’t many who could stand firm under the pressure of his murderous aura.

‘However…

That doesn’t mean he’s worthy of my Francia.’

As the Ducal’s aura intensified, Yohan respectfully greeted him.

“I am Yohan, the third son of Viscount Harssen.”

“I’ve already been introduced. I know who you are.”

The Ducal’s red eyes glared at Yohan.

“You’re aware of what you’ve done, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then there’s no need for me to explain what comes next.”

The Ducal, who had been seated on the sofa, stood up.

With each step he took, blue frost formed where his feet touched the ground.

“Don’t think this is unjust. You brought this upon yourself.”

As the Ducal approached, Yohan’s eyes narrowed.

‘Is he planning to kill me the moment I step inside?’

Certainly, for someone like the Ducal of Ferbache, killing Yohan would be effortless.

He could simply say it was an accident.

Yohan quickly spoke up.

“Ducal, I apologize, but would you please listen to what I have to say?”

“I have no interest in listening to the words of a sly fox.”

“Hearing me out won’t be a loss for you.”

The Ducal’s gaze sharpened with suspicion.

Seeing this, Yohan seized the moment and spoke faster.

“I am about to enter the Imperial Civil Service as a top-tier magician.”

“A top-tier magician? But I heard you graduated in social sciences and never studied magic or swordsmanship.”

Has he investigated that far? A cold sweat ran down Yohan’s back.

But now was not the time to back down.

His life was on the line.

“I’ve never formally studied magic. I’m self-taught.”

Rather than lie, Yohan chose to answer truthfully.

It was a wise decision, as getting caught in a lie could end things badly.

“Self-taught, huh? You expect me to believe that? Are you trying to spin an unbelievable tale because your life is in danger?”

Crack.

Blue frost spread from beneath the Ducal’s feet, encasing nearby objects.

The air grew colder, and the murderous intent in the room felt like it was slicing through Yohan’s skin.

The Ducal looked ready to kill him at any moment.

Perhaps if Yohan knelt now and apologized, saying he graduated at the top of his class and was willing to serve his family, he might be spared.

‘No.’

That wouldn’t work.

What he needed now wasn’t mercy, but the Ducal’s approval—and the right to be with Francia.

“I understand it’s hard to believe just by words. So, I will show you directly.”

Snap.

Yohan snapped his fingers, and blue magic began to rise from his hand.

“What are you…?”

Snowflakes filled the air.

Each snow crystal was like a small work of art, with delicate hexagonal patterns gleaming as they reflected the light.

It was a breathtaking sight, like a shower of white petals, as countless snowflakes slowly descended, transforming the room into a cascade of white.

The snowflakes altered the flow of the room itself.

“024…”

The Ducal’s eyes slightly narrowed.

This wasn’t just elemental magic.

‘Is this mental projection? No, it’s not that advanced. He’s simply using magic to alter the environment.’

It was nearly impossible to alter an environment without using magic.

Even with magic, changing the environment wasn’t easy.

It required an enormous affinity for magic.

And yet…

‘He did it.’

The Ducal was baffled.

How high must Yohan’s affinity for magic be to change the environment with such basic techniques?

“…He’s not ordinary.”

Though the Ducal’s face remained cold, the murderous intent had long since dissipated.

Yohan silently let out a sigh of relief.

‘Good, it seems I’ve piqued his interest.’

Honestly, Yohan had been unsure.

Given the Ducal’s state of rage, he hadn’t ruled out the possibility that no matter what he said or demonstrated, it might not have made a difference.

‘But things turned out well.’

Relaxing his tense body, Yohan continued.

“I can join the Imperial Civil Service as a top-tier magician within a month. I will also prove myself to be the best there.”

He added.

“I will work hard to become worthy of Lady Francia—no, of the Ducal’s daughter, Lady Ferbache. I have the talent, and I have the ambition. Please, grant me permission to court her.”

With those words, Yohan bowed his head deeply.

By this point, even the Ducal had calmed the blood that had been boiling in him.

Witnessing Yohan’s exceptional talent, he began to think rationally about the title of Ducal.

‘If he has this much talent, then…?’

He possessed the ability to alter the surrounding environment with mere magical power.

If someone like him were to be lost, it would be a significant blow to the Empire.

Though he was puzzled as to why he hadn’t properly learned magic until now…

‘At this level, it’s worth watching a bit longer.’

Didn’t he also display talent in ice magic?

‘And that talent in ice magic would greatly benefit the Ferbache Ducal House.

We are responsible for the ice magic of the Four Great Houses.’

As his rationality returned, he naturally began to calculate.

If such a talent properly blossomed and became part of the family…

“No. No way. I nearly fell for this damn fox.”

Right now, that wasn’t the issue.

The status of the family and recruiting talents were important, but if it involved his daughter, he could throw everything aside.

“A reckless brat. Are you suggesting we make a deal?”

The Ducal asked, his words laced with thorns.

“Surely, I wouldn’t make such a presumptuous suggestion.

This isn’t a transaction.

I hope you grant me an opportunity to prove myself worthy of your daughter—the Ferbache princess.”

The Ducal stroked his chin.

‘If someone had such spirit and handling ability, along with overwhelming talent in magic…

From a rational perspective, he wouldn’t be a bad match for Francia.’

The Ducal asked,

“When a certain age is reached, magical power solidifies, and it becomes difficult to learn magic.

How do you plan to address that?”

The magical power within one’s body hardens if not consistently trained, leading to less growth.

The reason it becomes harder to learn magic as one ages is due to this.

His investigation revealed that this damn fox… no, Yohan Harssen was twenty-one.

Even if he started learning magic now, the chances of entering the imperial civil service as a top-tier magician were slim.

Still, he decided to listen to what he had to say.

He had altered the surrounding environment using only magical control.

“The amount of magical power I possess is inherently vast, so it’s manageable. Look. I’ve altered the environment with just basic magical control, and yet I’m standing fine, aren’t I?”

Involving oneself in the environment itself consumes considerable magical power.

A mediocre magician attempting this would likely collapse from magical exhaustion.

Yet, if he could change the properties of the environment with only basic magical control?

It wouldn’t be surprising if he were on the verge of death.

His talent for magic was beyond doubt.

The Ducal narrowed his eyes, deep in thought.

From a rational perspective, there couldn’t be a better prospective groom.

There was no need to get entangled in the struggles with other families, and since the Harssen family was weak, he could freely wield influence from behind the scenes.

‘This crafty fox…’

In the end, he was compelled to compromise.

The man who had taken his daughter! That damn fox!

“Phew.”

The Ducal let out a sigh.

“A month.”

“Yes. I will keep that in mind.”

“I see you understood at once.”

Yohan responded with a smile.

“I will join the imperial civil service as a top-tier magician within a month.

If I fail to keep my promise, you may take my head.”

One of the Ducal’s eyebrows raised.

“I assume you have reason to speak so boldly.”

He waved his hand dismissively.

“Now, I’ll take my leave. I have things to discuss with my daughter.”

“Yes. Thank you for your kindness. I will strive to meet your expectations.”

Enrique added,

“The servant at the door will guide you to the guest room.

Please stay the night.”

“Thank you for your hospitality.”

As Yohan stepped out of the reception room, he sighed.

‘Have I passed the first hurdle?’

Technically, he hadn’t truly passed it yet, but he had succeeded in drawing out the Ducal’s rationality and gaining an opportunity.

‘What remains is…

To receive his acknowledgment and gain permission to court Francia.’

He only needed to learn magic.

It wasn’t too difficult.

Deciphering and manifesting rune characters would be a piece of cake.

“I see you liked it.”

Clink.

Enrique smiled as he refilled the Ducal’s teacup.

The cold air settled, and white steam rose.

“Enrique, your jokes are getting more frequent.

There’s no way I could like that fox of a man, is there?”

Tch.

The Ducal clicked his tongue and turned his head away.

“Still, you were given a chance.”

“That was only because he has that level of ability, suggesting that I should watch him.”

Enrique smiled contentedly.

If necessary, he had planned to intervene and listen to the princess’s words, but Yohan Harssen had handled himself better than expected.

After all, he had captured the Ducal’s interest, regained his rationality, and bought himself some time.

“Here is the chosen gentleman.

Surely he is extraordinary, isn’t he?” The princess said.

“…That’s true.

Having grown up seeing me, he wouldn’t settle for an average man.”

Enrique suppressed a laugh at the Ducal’s nodding head.

This man, once known as the cold-blooded demon of the battlefield during his prime, always softened whenever the topic turned to his daughter.

At that moment, there was a knock.

Someone tapped on the reception room door and entered.

It was Francia, dressed in fresh clothes.

“Where’s Yohan?”

“He returned to the guest room.”

“Is that so? It seems you finished your conversation well.”

Francia chuckled, reading the Ducal’s expression.

“He was given a month.

If he can’t prove his worth in that time, I don’t know what will happen to me.”

In response, Francia smiled and replied,

“He will definitely prove himself.

He is someone you can trust more than anyone else.”

‘Just like before.’