The Youngest Son of the Northern Grand Duke Wants to Break Off the Engagement

Zair continued to agonize over the succession of his title.

Someday, he too would pass away, so he would have to entrust the position of Grand Duke of the North to someone with proper qualifications.

Now that all his children had come of age, it was time to make a decision.

'Tina behaved as a noble lady should. I've married her off, so that's enough.'

From the start, the third daughter had shown no interest in the grand ducal title.

She simply refined her manners and cared for her appearance.

At the same time, she traveled back and forth to the capital in search of a suitable partner, and eventually had a smooth wedding.

'Rozandion possesses the spirit befitting a warrior. That alone makes him a role model for the Northern Army.'

His eldest son had practiced spear techniques since childhood and sought instruction by following knights around.

Because of that, he went into battle and slew monsters even before his coming-of-age ceremony.

Now, he was praised as a brave commander and boosted the morale of the soldiers.

'Märchen is skilled in devising strategies. While she lacks Rozandion's strength, commanding the soldiers is important too.'

His second daughter had continued learning swordsmanship, but faced limits in her strength and skill.

However, she diligently devoured military strategy books and applied them adeptly in the field, yielding remarkable results.

In fact, taking the bigger picture into account, it might be best for his second daughter to lead the Northern Army.

'Alter... there was nothing he could do. Only after returning from the capital did he display his talents.'

His youngest son always had to stay inside the castle to manage his illness.

In the end, he was engaged to the duke's daughter and sent to the capital, where he could finally work as a mage.

Chosen as the Great Mage's disciple, it was only right to see him as possessing exceptional potential.

'In principle, the title should pass to Rozandion or Märchen.'

As Grand Duke of the North, Zair did not wish to ignore long-standing traditions.

Birth order and age, the qualities and abilities of each candidate, their contributions thus far, and the potential to bear the family's future—above all, to convince his closest knights and advisors, he had to adhere to the regulated procedure.

'But... I cannot help but give Alter a chance. The other two already have an advantage by being born earlier.'

It wasn't favoritism due to Alter being the son of the legal wife or his remarkable talent.

He just wanted to offer at least somewhat equal conditions. Still, Alter would likely be at a disadvantage and probably fall behind in the competition.

'Then again, one never knows. If Alter inherits the grand ducal title, the Illenat ducal house's attitude may change.'

Of course, the Duke of Illenat had looked after Alter so far. But it was all premised on a political marriage with the grand ducal house.

If Alter's value increased, they might offer even greater cooperation.

'To prepare for a change in emperor, this is the right way. One needs a powerful family to avoid suffering losses.'

Every emperor in history had their own traits, leading to shifts in policy and budget.

In particular, support for the north had often swung to extremes.

The current emperor was friendly to the grand ducal house, but the next emperor might issue unreasonable orders.

'I should check before Alter returns...'

* * *

Alter stood atop the ramparts, gazing beyond the outer walls.

Soon, he would have to return to the capital, but for now, the northern lands were as tranquil as ever.

Why had his mother's prophecy not yet come to pass?

'She couldn't have lied. Should I wait a little longer?'

His mother had glimpsed countless possible futures and derived the most stable outcome.

Sacrificing herself, she saved her child and tried to prevent the downfall of the grand ducal house.

For that reason, he could not help but believe her words all the more.

'I could try waiting a bit longer, but...'

"Where did you leave your fiancé and come out here alone?"

Recognizing the voice, Alter turned immediately. Zair was approaching slowly, receiving salutes from the soldiers.

"She's probably reading a swordsmanship manual. Being a swordswoman herself, she's very interested in sword arts."

"Northern swordsmanship isn't all that different. If she's even received a title, there's nothing more to say."

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Alter, Zair gazed at the same scenery.

The emperor wouldn't bestow a title upon the Illenat ducal house simply to treat them well.

He must have reflected deeply on his experiences as a comrade, and discussed much with the Imperial Knights Commander and other influential figures.

That was why the title of Sword Saint was conferred on Brillie—with respect.

"She is more than I deserve. She's caring and often steps out for my sake."

"She's quite bold. One could call her a true leader, not just a noble lady."

"... Isn't boldness a virtue for a knight? We can't cower before our enemies."

"That's true. A knight must proceed with courage. And learn to protect what's precious."

As Zair quietly recalled what Brillie had said, he remembered: he himself must protect Alter and could not entrust her husband to another.

In that context, she had said, while she might have more children, she would only ever have one husband.

Even if those words were nothing but niceties, they were enough for Alter's father to feel content.

"Do you approve of my fiancé?"

"I don't know everything about your fiancé... but that much is enough. She is fit to be your partner."

Only belatedly could Zair be at ease regarding Alter's marriage. He felt regretful at having to impose a political marriage on his child.

Furthermore, since her partner was no ordinary woman, he had been a little worried.

But as long as Brillie respected Alter, their married life would not be unhappy.

"It won't be easy to return to the capital like this with peace of mind."

"Are you worried about something?"

"Mother's words are surely not wrong. The monsters will attack for certain... Can the current troops hold them back?"

"They must. That is my duty."

Turning, Zair looked at Alter.

As Grand Duke of the North, as commander-in-chief of the Northern Army, he must protect this place.

His authority and honor stemmed from this responsibility, and he could not help but bear the cause passed down from his ancestors.

"I want to see this through to the end. It's mother's last will, after all."

"You have conveyed her words to me— that is enough. Don't get involved any further."

"I have a responsibility as well. I'm connected to the Frost Witch, am I not?"

"......"

Zair, unable to refute, fell into a hush. Uriel's death, Alter's curse, and signs of a great invasion—all began with the Frost Witch and did not fade away until the end.

So Alter, too, sought to resolve things according to that causal chain.

"If mother's words are right, the Frost Witch is both the source of disaster and the means to resolve it. The Great Mage said that I embody the chill of the Frost Witch. If that's so, could I not stop the monsters' incursion?"

"Don't take war lightly. In a fleeting moment, dozens, hundreds of lives may be at risk—and you could be one of them."

Zair expressed significant concern about Alter joining the battle. Alter had no combat experience and had been frail from childhood.

How could he send such a person to the battlefield and expect them to achieve victory?

"I too inherit the blood of the grand ducal house. I cannot shirk its duties."

"I won't say you lack qualifications. But even as the Great Mage's disciple, you have never fought in real combat. How can I send such a person into the fray?"

"I am no longer weak. Would you like to see for yourself?"

Alter, if only faintly, released his magic power and watched Zair.

Zair flinched for a moment, then quickly discerned the flow of the magic. The chill contained within that power was already distinct.

"Did you learn this in the capital?"

"Yes. I was taught by the Great Mage."

"... So it's come to this."

Zair seemed to hesitate for a moment, then recognized that bloodline.

If Alter had inherited his mother's talents, it was only natural that he reached this result.

'Is blood truly inescapable?'

By instinct, Zair remembered his beloved. The mage who had blocked enemy armies with her freezing power.

Even in disadvantageous situations, she never retreated and ultimately defended the lines.

'Uriel abandoned her pursuit of the Great Mage's title, but you just might achieve it.'

With a sense of anticipation, Zair resolutely consented. Uriel had thrown away her own potential, bound by the north.

But since Alter had to return to the capital, he would inevitably pursue the title of Great Mage.

'Perhaps it's fine to give him a chance. He, too, will bring our house honor...'

Just by setting an example, the descendant of the grand ducal house could inspire the Northern Army's fighting spirit.

The moment the long-frail youngest son rushed into battle, the Northern Army's pride would be stirred.

And with overwhelming presence on top, even victory could be made certain.

'That's enough. If he realizes Uriel's wishes on her behalf...'

* * *

From the distant snowfields, an ominous energy spread. The one who had suppressed them was gone, and they had endured for countless years.

Now, at last, they would raise their heads and surge forward without hesitation.

"The Frost Witch has waned."

"Foolishly, she took her own life."

"Obsessed with humans, she reached a hollow ruin..."

One by one, countless beings began to reveal themselves. Corpses trapped in glaciers awakened, and starving wolves hungered for prey.

A massive chunk of ice convulsed, and a gigantic monster let out a roar.

Countless monsters rushed forth together, blanketing the snowfields.

"Ggeuh... gigi-gig..."

"Krurur..."

"Uwoong... Kiiiiiing..."

"Uwoooo!"

Surrounded by snow and ice, they could only long for heat. That heat was the source of destruction, unconnected to any reason or causality.

All they did was deny what was alive and rule through death.

"Nothing will stop us."

"Merciless destruction shall arrive."

"Life will be corrupted, and death will be exalted..."

The Frost Witch, as the guardian deity, was meant to suppress the malice of the north.

That was why only the just and rightful could inherit the power of frost.

But now the frost lineage was distorted, so the end drew ever closer.

"The power of frost has been severed."

"No one has inherited it."

"Now, the age of the dead shall dawn!"

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
Damn, the North can never escape the shadow of the dead...
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】