Creak.
Galenia entered the study without knocking, stepping inside after opening the door. She was the only person in this household who could enter Arandel’s study without first knocking.
Arandel stood silently with his hands behind his back, gazing out the window.
In the distance, he could see the makeshift stalls set up by the nearby village’s festival procession.
Despite the fact that there had been two corpses here just moments ago, diligent servants had cleaned everything, and now the room was filled with a heavy fragrance of roses.
Galenia approached quietly, her soft steps barely audible on the carpet as she moved behind Arandel. She spoke with a quiet laugh from where she stood behind his back.
“Rianne has grown more than I expected.”
“…”
Arandel’s silence spoke volumes; the massive greatsword lying on his desk—used only moments ago—was itself an answer. Though her skill was still far from comparable to his, Rianne had reached a level where she could leave marks on his sword.
“Lord Roengreen will be the successor, I’ve heard. Has your decision changed at all?”
“…”
“I know why you chose him, even after Rianne. Because of the family line, right? But Rianne parted ways with Isaac.”
“…”
“So, you just need to pair her with someone else. Someone suitable enough for our family.”
Galenia’s voice began to quicken, driven by an underlying anxiety. Her eyes carried not just fear but deep apprehension, and she clung to the hope that Arandel would give her the answer she wished for.
“Make Rianne the head of the house. And then… and then…”
Galenia tentatively reached out and gently grasped Arandel’s hands, causing her face to flush when her fingers brushed his thick fingers, crossed behind his back.
“Let’s leave.”
“…”
“If Rianne becomes the head of the house, Helvint won’t be your worry anymore. The commoner son-in-law that brings such disgrace even decided to leave. That’s settled.”
Now, her voice carried a note of choked emotion. Holding onto his hands tightly, she spoke earnestly.
“Is it because of the Sword Festival? Is it because a married Rianne cannot participate? It doesn’t matter! The festival is just that—a festival. Deciding the successor is ultimately your decision, isn’t it?”
With both hands, she enveloped the large hands that Arandel kept crossed behind his back, her trembling grip expressing both entreaty and warmth.
“Will Lord Roengreen becoming the head allow you to leave this mansion? Can you? You know you can’t leave. Your dream of a great Helvint won’t be realized.”
“Then…”
“Please, make Rianne the head.”
Galenia leaned her head against Arandel’s back as tears streamed down her face, imploring him with all her might.
“We need to survive, first, don’t we?”
“…”
“Make Rianne the head and come with me. There must be a way to save you. They know mysterious powers and are skilled in medicine, they do.”
With a short breath, Arandel finally turned around to look down at his wife.
“Would you do that? Huh? Please?”
Arandel asked calmly, as if it were any other day.
“Did you really think those kinds of people could save me?”
“It’s possible! I saw it myself in Blackhand. They’re… they’re something beyond human! They even use kinds of sorcery different from magic!”
“And how do you know of them?”
“Don’t worry about that. I didn’t say anything about your condition. They don’t even know we might need their help.”
On the contrary, Galenia had carefully set the stage to make them want Arandel.
“Let’s go then. After the Sword Festival… We’ll board Helvint’s carriage. We’ll see the flowers, the moon… a picnic, together. Until then…”
A faint smile played on Galenia’s lips as she envisioned that day.
“We’ll become members of the Transcendental Tribe. Their magic is different and can heal your illness too.”
Though two of their envoys had been killed, this would be a good opportunity to showcase Arandel’s authority. Once they understand how invaluable Arandel is, they would definitely want to hold onto him.
As they spoke, it was clear that Galenia had already set everything in motion. It wasn’t clear how deeply involved she had been or when exactly she had started her machinations.
Despite feeling distant and detached, a part of Arandel couldn’t help but feel something deep within him.
“Refuse.”
With that single word, Arandel dismissed all of Galenia’s efforts, leaving her heart shattered.
Clack clack!
Clack clack!
The footsteps themselves carried an unusual tension through the manor.
The mistress Galenia’s eyes were red, but she paid it no mind.
The servants who passed by also lowered their heads and kept an eye on her movements.
To the servants who were accustomed to Galenia’s usual kindness, her current demeanor was alarming—a clear indication of an emergency.
Those who passed Galenia hastened to inform their fellow servants to be cautious.
Outside the manor Galenia proceeded, following the scent of sweat that mingled with the sweet fragrance of blooming roses. There, she found Roengreen training intensely with his greatsword.
“Mother?”
Roengreen lowered his sword and wiped off his sweat. Due to his recent exposure to Rianne and Arandel, he had been pushing himself harder, training more fiercely than usual.
“Is something wrong? Your eyes-”
“Straighten up, my son.”
Galenia gazed at Roengreen with clenched fists.
“Do you know how much I love you?”
“Mother?”
“Seize the position as the family head by any means necessary.”
For Roengreen, this was the first time hearing such intense and commanding words, causing his body to instinctively tense up.
“You must become the head, no matter what.”
“The truth is-”
“I know. I know what you’re worried about. It’s because of Rianne’s true skill, isn’t it?”
Speechless, Roengreen thought of how badly he had been defeated by Rianne even before she left. Witnessing her clash with Arandel upon her return had only made him feel more inadequate.
“It’s all right. You can do it. Don’t care about means or methods. You’re the true heir. You must become the next head of the Helvint family.”
“Mother…”
Roengreen stared at Galenia with a moistened gaze. Clenching his fists tightly, he nodded.
“I will not disappoint you, Mother. I will certainly become the eldest child you hope for.”
In Roengreen’s mind, thoughts of how to achieve this automatically led him to picture one man—someone who could be considered Rianne’s weakness.
“My child.”
Galenia hugged Roengreen, despite his sweatiness, her voice choking with emotion.
“Such a fine son.”
With a sigh laced with deep sorrow, Galenia tenderly stroked his head, as if preparing to sever her own arm.
“I truly love you.”
But if asked who she loved more, the answer would undoubtedly be Arandel.
“You will prevail against all odds.”
So, expend all your strength to challenge Rianne and,
Break completely—so much so that,
You cannot possibly become the head.
In a pitiful manner.
Boil, boil, boil…
The kitchen of the Helvint estate.
Cook Millie was diligently making broth in a large pot, stirring the steaming liquid with a wooden ladle.
This was no ordinary broth; it contained expensive and luxurious parts of the cow—tail bones, knee bones, ribs—collected to create a rich flavor.
Moreover, various medicinal herbs known for their health benefits were also added, secured in a mesh bag to infuse the broth.
“Humph.”
For the one returning from the north, Millie was preparing the finest meal she could. Assuming the conditions were harsh up north, she aimed to serve a steaming-hot stew that would bring him warmth.
Meat of the finest cuts had been promised in advance, set to arrive fresh on the day of preparation, ready to be served.
“Phoo, I’m going now. Have a good rest.”
“Yes, Head Chef. Thank you for your hard work today.”
As it grew late, everyone left the kitchen, but Millie continued stirring the stew carefully, wiping away every bead of sweat with a towel to ensure nothing would taint her creation.
A faint creak of the door suddenly broke the silence.
“Did you forget something-”
Millie thought the chef had come back, but seeing the true guest, her expression hardened.
“Madam Galenia.”
In a hurry, Millie set down the ladle and greeted Galenia respectfully. She had, of course, heard the rumors about Galenia’s ill temper today.
Hence, Millie’s unease was obvious as she couldn’t lift her head while awaiting the inevitable.
Thud.
A small, violet pouch dropped onto the floor, easily concealable in one hand.
Millie’s eyes widened in shock, and her gaze quickly rose to Galenia’s face.
She knew too well what that pouch contained.
“…!”
“You will slip this into Isaac’s meal when I give the signal.”
“Madam, this…!”
“It must be done. This is the only way to control Rianne.”
“But-”
“No more talk.”
Galenia, eyes brimming with ill intent, pressured Millie harshly.
“If you’re dismissed from here, who will take care of your family?”
“…!”
Millie trembled with fear and dread, swallowing hard as memories of her family passed through her mind.
“It’s fine. Don’t worry.”
Galenia offered a mocking smile, having already taken control of Millie’s mind.
“You’ve done it once before, haven’t you?”
Clack clack!
Clack clack!
The sound of Galenia’s departing footsteps echoed.
Left behind, Millie clasped her eyes tightly shut.
Her mind revisited a terrible memory from four years ago, hearing vivid, heart-wrenching screams.
“Aiizaack! Isaac-!”
She hadn’t known a person could cry so desperately. The ruby-like tears streaming down from blood-red eyes.
The cries calling out for consciousness must’ve carried the hope of restoring life.
“Save him! Why? What in the world caused this!”
Over and over, she had begged and pleaded.
And the healers and mages would always offer the same reply.
“Well, we’re not really sure. The symptoms are not much different from a cold, but- unusually.”
“It does not respond to magic. In truth, magic is only good for treating external injuries-.”
“AiiiZAACK!”
Cruel screams.
Heart-wrenching pleas.
And she,
Who caused it herself.
*
“Ah-choo!”
“Have a cold?”
Isaac wiped his nose and shook his head.
“Not a cold, just my nose got itchy all of a sudden.”
“You should be more careful. If you fall sick just before leaving, people might say you’re always down with a cold in the north.”
At Silbern’s remark, Isaac chuckled softly.
Cold.
‘Come to think of it, they kept warning me to take care.’
[Take care not to catch a cold!]
[Be careful?]
[Ah, no! Be careful!]
Through Sharon, they even sent warm tea and towels while cautioning him against catching a cold.
[Take care not to catch a cold, Isaac.]
Even Rianne mentioned it just before he left for the north as a final note.
‘If I catch a cold despite all those warnings, I’ll have nothing to say if they call me out.’
Rubbing his hands together while gazing at the carriage waiting nearby, he saw Jonathan busily loading the luggage on it.
“Why, we don’t need such an elaborate farewell, do we?”
When Isaac told this to Silbern standing beside him, she gave him a solid tap on the back and nodded.
“Aye, we’ll catch up soon enough.”
Since they’d meet again during the Sword Festival anyway, they exchanged no long farewells.
“Ai-zaac! We’re leaving!”
“Sure, let’s go.”
As Isaac started walking toward the carriage, cheers from the north came from behind.
“Thank you so much!”
“We’ll never forget this day!”
“Visit anytime, you’re always welcome, Isaac!”
“Next time you come, we’ll show you a sword technique that’ll blow your mind!”
Warm farewells from the soldiers of Malriadian, Selene subtly pinching Urlidan’s side while giving him the evil eye to hurry him along.
And standing nearest to all,
“Bye, Isaac!”
The bright smile and waves from Silbern.
Receiving their farewells, Isaac set out once again, heading to Helvint.
