The Marquess of Lillis stepped out of the carriage and raised one hand to shade his eyes.
The weather above Krost estate — normally a place of perpetual snowstorms — was unusually clear today.
He squinted into the sunlight and let his mouth curve upward.
“Don’t be nervous, Tex. You just need to show them what you can do.”
“I’m the only candidate anyway.”
Tex stepped out behind his father with an air of comfortable superiority.
“Even if I somehow failed the succession trial, Duke Calypse would still want me around, I’m sure.”
The Marquess was gratified by his reliable son and laughed softly.
But the moment they passed through the estate’s main gate, the Marquess of Lillis found himself stopping short despite himself, confronted by the sheer scale of the towering Krost estate.
“…I’ll grant it this much — the grandeur is something.”
Nobility was expected to have impressive residences. That was simply the way of things.
But Krost estate had a texture that was somehow different.
The terrain of the north meant constant wind and frequent Creature incursions, so the walls had been built from dense stone and solid brick — less a noble’s seat than a fortress.
There wasn’t a single decorative gemstone set into it anywhere, and that, precisely, was what had silenced him.
“Impressive. Truly impressive.”
Absurd. Completely absurd.
The Marquess’s mouth said one thing while his eyes said another, and he pressed his lips into a thin line.
But then he reconsidered.
That enormous estate — soon enough, it’ll be mine.
The Marquess of Lillis allowed himself a moment of anticipation.
As things stood, the only person who could inherit House Krost was Tex. The succession trial was happening, yes, but it was already decided in all but name.
He was smiling pleasantly and looking around when —
“Raize.”
“Yes.”
A sound of faint displeasure, and he called for his aide.
“Once Tex is installed as head of House Krost, have every last inch of that garden dug up.”
“Understood.”
“Plant it full of flowers I actually like. There are far too many things in this estate that remind me of Duke Calypse.”
The wolf sculptures that symbolized House Krost, for instance.
And the training grounds — those were scattered everywhere too, and equally repellent.
He understood, of course, that this was a knight household defending the edge of the known world, and that such things were inevitable. But what would a visiting noble — one who didn’t know the context — think?
They’d look down on House Krost for certain. If they at least embedded diamonds into the wolf sculptures it would be more presentable.
Tsk, tsk. If I were managing House Krost, I’d never let the aesthetics fall this far.
“Move the training grounds somewhere out of sight — the back courtyard — and redesign the knights’ uniforms to look a little more aristocratic. With the Ice Affinity, Creatures can be dispatched easily enough anyway. Why all this fuss about training grounds and knights?”
At that, several nearby Krost servants shot the Marquess a withering look.
But the Marquess of Lillis had his reasons for his confidence.
A few days earlier, when he had gone to meet those people to purchase the potion.
“Oh-ho. So you use Creatures in the succession trial? Are they live ones?”
“Why do you ask?”
“What about this?”
They had grinned with a kind of private amusement and extended something toward him.
A small needle and a potion inside a long, cylindrical vial.
“It’s a madness amplifier. Inject it into a Creature and watch the chaos it causes.”
The Marquess frowned in surprise.
“Why are you showing me this?”
“Because it’s fun, ha ha ha ha!”
Incomprehensible people. He had clicked his tongue inwardly at the lot of them, laughing through the gaps in their robes like they shared some private joke.
But then — a good idea had struck him.
I could inject it into whatever Creature Aisha ends up facing.
Even without it, Tex and his Affinity would win easily enough. But there was no harm in being safe.
“How much?”
“Oh-ho. I knew you’d be interested!”
They had laughed again — that same rolling laughter — and handed him the substance for free.
“No charge. It’s still a sample — hasn’t been commercially released yet. Use it and let us know how it goes.”
“…….”
A sample. An unfinished product.
The Marquess had felt uneasy, but he accepted it all the same. Whether it worked or not, he had nothing to lose.
“As long as my son becomes the heir, let the rest of the world do as it likes.”
Ha.
Either way, victory was looking down at him from above.
He patted the shape of the injection through his coat pocket one last time. The corner of his mouth pulled into a slow, satisfied smile.
The north was no longer House Krost’s domain.
It belonged to House Lillis.
________________________________________
Near the edge of the world.
A vast, circular training ground built from granite.
They had come indoors — and yet the Marquess of Lillis found himself already desperately wishing for a fur coat.
“Is this a training ground or an open field?! How can an entire wall just be missing? We’ll freeze to death!”
The Krost training ground near the world’s edge had one full wall left entirely open — like a terrace without windows.
This meant the Marquess of Lillis and the assembled vassals were seated in chairs, facing directly into the howling northern wind.
“Calling this desolate hole a training ground — House Krost really does refuse to spend money, doesn’t it.”
“My thoughts exactly. This isn’t a training ground, it’s a battlefield.”
“Ha ha ha!”
The Marquess’s quip drew laughter from the vassals around him.
“Ahem!”
A pointed throat-clearing came from the opposite side of the room, but the Marquess paid it no mind.
What does it matter. Tex will be the heir regardless.
He was still riding the crest of his own self-satisfaction when —
“Thank you for making the long journey.”
From the entrance of the training ground, Duke Krost appeared alongside Knox.
“Let us begin.”
The Duke’s voice — dry but weighted with authority — filled the room, and the seated vassals stirred with mild surprise, murmuring to one another.
“He’s removed his mask!”
“I haven’t seen that face unguarded in quite some time.”
The Duke had indeed gone without his mask.
Skin pale as winter light, the contrast of crimson eyes sharp against it. His black hair was swept back and set with pomade for the formal occasion, and beneath it, a firm brow and strong jaw were fully on display.
Even the edge of grief that had clung to him since the loss of his family seemed to have dissolved along with the mask.
This is the ruler of the north.
Scarlet eyes like a wolf commanding its pack through a merciless storm.
…Damn. How does one person carry that much presence?
Even the self-assured Marquess of Lillis felt a brief, involuntary flinch.
He recovered by bowing his head — and while doing so, closed his hand around the madness amplifier hidden inside his jacket.
Just a little longer.
Just a little longer, and he would shatter that stone-faced expression for good.
“Today’s formal gathering is the day we’ve all been waiting for — the selection of the succession candidates.”
And just then, it seemed his wish was on the verge of being granted.
“The candidates are Lillis Tex, and — newly joined to the direct line — Krost Aisha.”
As the Duke’s introduction concluded, a child who had no business being in a training ground came waddling in.
Four years old? Five at the most, if you were being generous.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Aisha Krost.”
Barely reaching Calypse’s thigh.
Golden twin braids tied neatly.
Eyes wide and bright and full of the kind of unguarded curiosity that belonged to her age.
“I look forward to fighting alongside you!”
She bowed with an ease that suggested no shyness whatsoever, and her short twin braids swung like little bells.
“So that’s the young lady who was recently adopted into the direct line.”
“I heard it’s thanks to her that Duke Calypse removed his mask.”
“The way she introduced herself — she seems like a sharp little thing.”
On the opposite end of the room from the Marquess, the expressions of the other vassals had softened.
Aisha was undeniably the kind of child who made people like her on sight.
But that, unfortunately, was all it amounted to.
“She doesn’t have an Affinity, though, did they say? Can she actually win?”
“It’s not even a matter of winning or losing — it seems dangerous to me.”
Could that child even lift a sword?
A child who looked as though she’d never heard the word “fighting” stood courageous and small amid a crowd of adults five times her size.
Eyebrows slanting upward in determination.
Those small hands — fists like little cotton balls, tiny maple-leaf fingers squeezed tight.
Anyone can see this is already decided.
The Marquess, seated in his chair, let out a quiet laugh of contempt.
At that moment —
“Shall we prepare, Marquess?”
His aide, Raize, materialized at his elbow, keeping his voice low.
“Wait and see for now.”
The Marquess shook his head, which surprised even himself.
House Foss apparently never saw the child in person.
Using the madness amplifier for this? Looking at her now, it seemed like a waste of effort.
________________________________________
