Chapter 120

Chapter 120
## Chapter 120

“It isn’t as if he is offering his services out of the goodness of his heart. He likely approached me with a specific goal of his own.”

Yet, why should that matter?

In truth, the bond between a lord and a follower was always more transactional than people liked to admit. The very pillar of the feudal system rested on a warrior offering his blade and life in exchange for a ruler providing status and fair compensation.

If a standard knightly oath was rooted in such mutual gain, there was no reason a sorcerer shouldn’t operate under the same logic. To Lucian, this was a familiar reality.

“As long as our interests align, I am indifferent to his hidden plans; we are still traveling the same path. If he has personal ambitions, he is free to chase them. It is sufficient for me if I benefit from the arrangement.”

“But what if that magic-user intends to double-cross Your Grace? What if his plan involves discarding his lord as a pawn to reach his own objectives?”

“Do I truly need to give you an answer?”

Instead of a verbal retort, Lucian offered a frigid smirk and tapped the hilt of the blade at his hip. That simple motion carried more weight than a thousand explanations, and Raymon could only offer a crooked, knowing smile in return.

“I suppose my concerns were misplaced. Your Grace is certainly not the type to be manipulated by such a calculating individual.”

“I’m glad you realize that. On another note, where is Felicia? I intended to provide her with the Nectar, but she’s nowhere to be found.”

“She is currently deep in meditation on the northern ramparts. She mentioned that her recent experiences have given her much to contemplate and that she required solitude to digest it all.”

“Ah, in that case, interrupting her would be a mistake.”

Felicia had inherited the entirety of the Sword Saint’s hidden arts. Her current state of focus was likely the vital process of weaving those complex techniques into her very soul and sinew. If he broke her concentration just to deliver the Nectar, he might accidentally derail years of internal progress.

“It can’t be helped. For the time being, consume the Nectar yourself, and then report to my study along with Hugo. I’m going to summon Colin.”

“Is this an official gathering? Should I alert the others to attend as well?”

“No, I have information meant specifically for the three of you this time, so keep it quiet. This particular matter demands a high degree of discretion.”

Having delivered his instructions, Lucian pressed a finger to his lips for silence and strode away. Raymon watched his master’s departing figure with a look of slight confusion before breaking into a soft laugh. He suddenly recalled how, back when they first crossed paths, Lucian used to keep every single detail shrouded in mystery.

‘But the world has turned many times since those days.’

Once merely the overlooked Third Young Master of Valdek, Lucian had ascended to the rank of Margrave and Duke, carving out his reputation as the undisputed Conqueror of the North. Simultaneously, he had brought the brilliant alchemist Ian into his fold and kept the future Sword Saint, Felicia, as his most trusted shadow.

Furthermore, he had claimed the massive inheritance of the Northern Royal Family and even secured the Emperor’s legal decree to liberate the mages. If he could now forge a military force that answered to him and him alone, his power would be absolute.

‘Perhaps this is the final time I will travel with my lord as part of such a small circle.’

The higher a man climbed and the more authority he wielded, the more sedentary his role became. Moving forward, every step Lucian took would likely involve the movement of entire legions. The era of roaming the land with only a handful of companions was drawing to a close. Raymon, too, would soon have to transition from a lone knight to a grand commander.

“If that’s the case, I must ensure the final deeds of Raymon the Black Lion are burned into my lord’s memory.”

Whispering to himself, Raymon drained the Nectar in a single, confident swallow. Almost instantly, his eyes flared open as a wave of revitalizing energy raced through his veins.

—

‘At last.’

Standing in the office after being summoned by Lucian, Helen clutched her sleeves, her face glowing with intense anticipation. After an agonizing wait, Lucian had finally resolved to strike out beyond the frozen wastes. Helen, who had been privately frantic about their departure date, felt like cheering out loud.

‘Stay focused, stay calm. This is where the heavy lifting begins.’

Pressing a hand to her chest, Helen forced her thumping heart to slow down. It was far too soon for a victory lap. If she botched this next phase, the foundation of trust she had painstakingly built would crumble instantly. Since she had made such bold promises, she was obligated to deliver a functional army to Lucian’s side, regardless of the cost.

‘To achieve that, the first step is…’

*Click.*

“Hm? You’ve arrived already? I only sent for you a moment ago.”

Startled out of her internal monologue, Helen snapped to her feet as Lucian’s voice drifted from the entryway. Turning, she saw not just the Duke, but also her senior, Colin, stepping into the room.

“My greetings, Your Grace.”

“Very well, sit. As per your request, I’ve brought Colin and my inner circle, though the others might be delayed as they finish their current tasks.”

“Wait, Helen requested my presence? What is all this about?”

Colin, who had been hauled along without context, stared at Helen and Lucian with a look of utter bewilderment. It was clear he had been told nothing by his junior. Lucian gave a sharp nod, signaling for her to take the lead, and Helen offered her senior a small smile.

“Please, just listen. The truth is…”

As Helen laid out the plan, Colin’s eyes grew wider with every sentence. Nomadic clans past the snowfields, a ready-made army waiting to be claimed, the emergence of the true King of the North. The moment Helen stopped speaking, Colin let out a frustrated shout.

“What are you thinking?! Clans beyond the frost? Using barbarians as a military force? This is the first I’ve heard of any of this!”

“That is because I chose not to inform you until now.”

“Why would you decide something this monumental on your own? Why keep me in the dark?! You didn’t give me so much as a hint!”

“Our Master instructed me not to tell you beforehand.”

“…What?”

“He said you have endured hardship for so long that you would be desperate for stability. He predicted you would try to persuade your lord to abandon the idea in favor of a safer route, so he told me to bypass you.”

At the mention of their mentor, Colin stood frozen, his jaw hanging open. His indignation evaporated instantly, replaced by a wave of deep sheepishness. Leaving her stunned senior behind, Helen turned her focus back to Lucian.

“Your Grace, may I confirm if the group assembling now is the one I suggested?”

“Indeed. A small, elite team to cross the snowfields. You mentioned that six was the perfect number for a safe passage through the frost, so I have gathered exactly that many.”

“Excluding myself, my senior, and Your Grace, that leaves three spots. Are those for Sir Hugo, Sir Raymon, and Sir Felicia?”

“Why? Do you have an objection?”

It was public knowledge that those three were Lucian’s most loyal protectors. For a trek into such a lethal environment, one couldn’t ask for better companions. Nevertheless, despite her obvious nerves, Helen spoke with conviction.

“Sir Hugo is an acceptable choice. However, I believe it is necessary to replace Sir Raymon and Sir Felicia with different candidates.”

“You! How dare you…!”

Colin, shaking off his daze, yelled in disbelief. To challenge a ruler’s decision before even being formally sworn in was bad enough, but to demand the removal of his closest confidants? She was gambling with her life. However, Lucian merely looked at Helen with curiosity.

“And your justification?”

“For Sir Raymon, the issue is his mana. For Sir Felicia, the issue is her gender.”

“I didn’t take you for someone concerned with gender roles.”

“Mages and knights are viewed through different lenses, and therefore they encounter different hurdles.”

“Proceed. Explain Raymon first. Why is his mana a problem?”

“It is quite simple. Sir Raymon does not possess a high enough absolute volume of mana.”

Past the snowfields sat the Eternal Frozen Land. Because the region remained in a perpetual deep freeze, surviving the climate was a Herculean task. Consequently, any warrior of the northern clans had to possess an immense reservoir of mana. Without the ability to constantly shield their bodies with energy, they would succumb to the cold and die within hours.

“The martial arts of the northern tribes are rudimentary. Because of this, they do not care for refined technique. They only respect raw, overwhelming power.”

“I see. So no matter how masterfully you swing a sword, if your mana is thin, you are viewed as a weakling? They prize brute strength over technical skill.”

“Exactly. Sir Raymon is undeniably a brilliant knight, and his blade work is top-tier, but because his mana pool is lacking…”

“Your Grace. Sir Hugo and Sir Raymon have arrived.”

As if to punctuate the end of Helen’s argument, a guard’s voice called from the hall. When Lucian gave the word, the door swung open. Helen turned to look, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

‘What? His mana levels have skyrocketed!’

Hugo was unchanged. He still carried the massive, dense mana that most knights couldn’t hope to match even after a lifetime of training. The shock was Raymon. Until only yesterday, his mana had been respectable but standard. She had audited his energy levels multiple times, yet in less than a day, it had swelled to match Hugo’s. It was enough to make her head spin.

“Did we interrupt a discussion?”

“Not exactly. Helen was just suggesting we revise the plan we recently settled on. To be specific, she was advocating for your and Felicia’s exclusion.”

“….”

Raymon looked at Helen with a hard-to-read expression. It wasn’t quite anger; it was more like the pitying look one gives a child who speaks out of turn. Under his stare, Helen’s face turned crimson, and she lowered her head in a deep bow.

“My apologies. I spoke without having all the facts.”

“You were so certain a moment ago, yet you yield the second he walks in?”

“It isn’t that. My recommendation to replace Sir Raymon was based entirely on his mana reserves. But seeing him now…”

“His mana is on par with Hugo’s, is it not?”

As Lucian chuckled, a cold shiver ran down Helen’s spine. She realized that the only reason Raymon’s power had surged so violently in a single day was because Lucian had intervened.

‘What did he use? Did he have a legendary elixir tucked away? Or was it something else?’

Helen forced herself to stop the frantic theorizing. Speculation was pointless. What mattered was that even in this isolated state, Lucian had the means to produce an elixir for his subordinate. That fact alone made it impossible for Helen to grasp the true depth of Lucian’s resources.

“Well, I’m glad we’ve cleared that up. Now, explain why Felicia should be left behind.”

At Lucian’s words, accompanied by a subtle smile, Helen swallowed hard but kept her head down.

“Sir Felicia is undoubtedly a warrior with few equals. But as I noted, her gender is the obstacle. Simply because Sir Felicia is a woman, the northern tribes will mock her and refuse to grant her any respect.”

“Is their sexism that severe? In my experience, those in harsh climates tend to respect anyone who is strong, and women often hold significant authority.”

“In this case, it is the opposite. Because the environment is so lethal, they cannot conceive of a woman performing such life-threatening labor. To them, a woman can be a seer, a counselor, or a mystic, but she is fundamentally a being that cannot be a soldier.”

It was a realm where the frozen corpses of those lost in storms piled up like hills. Naturally, they were obsessed with population, and women—the source of life—were guarded with extreme care. Even if many men perished, as long as the survivors took many wives, the tribe could endure. To put it simply, the divide between male and female roles was far more rigid there than it was here, where a female knight was treated as a rare but respected figure.

“Because I am a practitioner of magic, they will not find me odd. But if she tries to stand as a warrior, it will be seen as a direct insult to their ancient traditions and logic.”

“Then we shall take this chance to rewrite their logic entirely. If she breaks them in combat, they will change their tune.”

“It is a bias that has stood for a millennium; winning a few duels will not suffice. It would take a shock so great it feels like the world has been turned upside down. Perhaps if it were Sir Eisen, but with Sir Felicia’s current level of skill…”

“Your Grace. Sir Felicia has arrived.”

Once more, with perfect timing, the guard announced the final arrival. The door glided open as Lucian granted entry. Helen turned her head, determined to hold her ground this time.

But the moment she saw her, the words died in her throat.

‘…What is this energy?’

She had known Felicia was formidable. Setting aside the Sword Saint Eisen, Felicia was the most powerful knight Helen had encountered. But the woman standing before her now was not the same person she knew. If her previous power was something that could be measured by human metrics, the depth of Felicia’s current presence was utterly beyond comprehension.

Walking into the center of the room, Felicia gave Lucian a respectful bow, then turned a freezing stare toward Helen.

“Is my prowess truly so lacking?”

At the sound of that bone-chilling voice, Helen could find no reply and simply bowed her head in silence.