Chapter 175

"Sir Leandros."

The knight whose name was called blinked as if coming to his senses.

The flames in the fireplace crackled as they burned, with cedar logs emitting a fragrant scent.

The heavy black velvet embroidered with the names of ancestors belonging to the family in gold was spotlessly clean, as were the dark red carpet on the floor and the curtains covering the windows.

The flickering light reflected in the golden candlesticks created a dreamlike scene.

"Sir Leandros."

"...Duchess."

"You still seem unfamiliar with this place? I notice you're sometimes absent-minded."

Leandros felt for a moment as if he had been somewhere other than the ducal residence.

But where exactly?

He tried to shake off the strange sense of déjà vu and answered.

"Not at all. Thanks to your consideration, I've been able to adapt quickly."

"That's fortunate. I hope this place can become like a home for you. There aren't many families in the kingdom who can protect you against the Crown Prince's will."

"I'm indebted to you."

"I didn't mean to make you feel burdened. Though no fault of yours is in this matter, you're currently in no position to choose where to stay."

Something felt awkward. Leandros remembered this conversation.

It seemed like he had had a similar conversation with the Duchess a very long time ago, but was that an illusion?

But whether he felt strange or not, his mouth moved on its own.

"Duchess Hartmann, I..."

"My. At this point? You can just comfortably call me Hero."

"I cannot address someone who has already become the proper mistress of a ducal family that way."

"I thought we were quite close. Was I wrong?"

Leandros finally sighed.

"...Lady Hero."

Hero Hartmann, the Duchess, smiled brightly at the title he had barely managed to call her.

With her red hair twisted up high and adorned with rare jewels, she already possessed the dignity of a high-ranking noblewoman.

Hero had a grand coming-of-age ceremony when she turned eighteen two years ago, simultaneously proceeding with the marriage vow to the current Duke Hartmann.

The Duchess, who had just become an adult and was still so young, was quite a topic of interest within the kingdom.

Some said that Duke Hartmann had fallen for Hero and taken her as soon as she came of age,

While others said there had been an unpleasant scandal between Hero and the Duke, so Hero had been sold to the Duke with tears in her eyes.

If not for that, there would have been no need to rush the marriage, they claimed.

However, the moment he first saw Hero, Leandros realized that she was not the pitiful woman who appeared in public rumors.

There was something shining inside her, far brighter than the jewels she wore or the splendid dress.

It wasn't that she had talents that others didn't possess, or that she was kind, or planned well, or had outstanding knowledge.

Her appearance wasn't exceptionally excellent, nor was her character remarkably merciful.

As proof, Leandros could immediately name at least ten people known for being kinder and more gentle-hearted than Hero.

Yet, people, including himself, couldn't take their eyes off her.

Like moths flying into a fire without knowing why. Like small satellites, dust, and ice fragments orbiting a massive planet.

Leandros too willingly chose to become a small moth and a lightless satellite along with them.

Of course, besides Leandros, there were mountains of people in the castle who would be elated or dejected at her single word, and who held various emotions toward her.

It was fortunate that Hero conformed to Hartmann's reclusive family tradition and reduced her social activities. Otherwise, the social circles of the capital would have been turned upside down long ago.

Leandros sincerely believed so.

"I fear others might misunderstand your informal attitude, Lady Hero."

"No, that can't be. I think an escort knight should maintain a closer relationship than anyone else with the person they're escorting."

"Even if you treat me harshly, Lady Hero, my attitude won't change."

"My goodness. It's not that I don't trust you. Can't you just think of it as an excuse for me to get closer to you? You're so rigid."

"Building a relationship with someone like me would hardly benefit the ducal family, would it? I have neither a mansion nor territory. A knight's patent alone is of no help to you."

"You're underestimating yourself. I think you'll be devoted to the ducal family. My predictions have never been wrong. Even if I die, you will protect Hartmann where I was. I highly value that single-minded aspect of yours."

Even if it was just for show, Leandros's neck reddened slightly at the kind words.

Standing behind the chair where Hero sat, with his hands behind his back, he was glad she couldn't see him.

"You flatter me."

She was a person too good for him. Leandros sincerely believed so, and there wasn't a shred of doubt in that belief.

Besides... though it might sound a bit strange, Leandros had always wished for this kind of daily life.

The Duchess leaning against a soft cushion, reading her favorite book, and himself watching her, happily responding to the trivial conversations she occasionally initiated.

No one disturbed them. Even the rain falling outside felt like one of the elements completing the comfort of the study.

Leandros spent quite a long time in the Duchess's study. A long time had passed, enough to say it had been hours, or even days.

No servant or maid came. The bell announcing meals didn't ring, and since he himself didn't feel hungry, Leandros couldn't sense the flow of time well.

This was the gloomy Hartmann ducal residence where it always rained.

Perfect and peaceful moments where neither day nor night came created a sense of tranquility.

"Lady Hero. Your cup is empty, may I refill your drink myself?"

"It's not good to use an escort knight like a servant, but I keep asking. Please do. Come back quickly."

"Helping you is my pleasure, Lady Hero. I'll be right back."

Leandros, now accustomed to serving her, gently lifted the cup from the small table so as not to startle Hero.

After leaving the Duchess's study, he went downstairs following a familiar path.

The kitchen also had a fire burning warmly. Passing by the counter filled with fresh ingredients, Leandros began preparing Hero's favorite drink.

A good aroma spread as he boiled strong wine with water, sugar, and plenty of spices.

As he was going up with the completed drink, he suddenly looked back at the empty corridor.

The ducal residence was particularly quiet.

Was it because it was dark outside? Or was it because, as usual, all the employees were moving quietly, holding their breath?

But today, the Duchess was in quite a good mood. It was a day when servants and attendants didn't need to be cautious around her, yet it was this quiet.

Leandros was slowly climbing the stairs when he suddenly stopped.

Beyond the lamps decorating the walls, splendid tapestries, sculptures, and vases filled with fully bloomed flowers, a cold wind was blowing sharply from the end of the corridor.

Had someone forgotten to close a window?

Leandros turned in that direction, concerned that Hero might catch a cold.

Probably this way... what kind of room was on this side?

Leandros, who had been retracing his memories, stood frozen in front of a certain room.

It was an ordinary room, identical to other guest rooms. The bronze doorknob gleamed like new.

Though there was nothing special about it, Leandros couldn't leave its front.

He couldn't understand the reason, or anything else. Leandros, who had been staring blankly at the door, slowly extended his hand.

"Sir Leandros?"

"Lady Hero."

"I was wondering why you weren't coming, and you were sightseeing the castle. You should have told me in advance. Is that my drink you're holding? My goodness. It's all cold now. But it's still the taste I like. Did you make it yourself?"

"Lady Hero..."

"Let's go back. Cold wind is coming in here. Let's warm up in my study. Come this way quickly."

The Duchess took the cup with a gentle and affectionate tone.

Hero, exactly as Leandros remembered her, smiled and turned around to walk ahead of Leandros.

Watching the Duchess's neat back, Leandros followed her and, unable to resist the impulse, asked.

"Lady Hero. Who is the owner of this room?"

"That room was originally empty."

"Lady Hero. I don't see any staff in the ducal residence."

"They're all probably washing fabrics in the backyard, patrolling the estate, or working somewhere. You don't need to know their workplaces."

"Lady Hero. Where is His Grace the Duke?"

"He should be in his study. Or perhaps he's gone to his bedroom, as he's generally not in good health."

"Lady Hero."

Suddenly, they were at the stairs.

Hero, who was higher up than Leandros, looked down at him with the cup in her hand.

Above her hung a painting of a rough, surging black night sea.

The night sea was so black that it didn't even reflect moonlight. A young man who had crossed the terrifying sea with his bare body was extending his hand toward a woman on a cliff, but the woman was looking in a different direction, not at the man.

Leandros knew that painting.

The feelings of the man who had swum across the sea alone, the expectation of the woman waiting for such a man, and the misfortune brought by the rough sea.

Leandros's voice trembled in the end.

"I think I've forgotten something..."

"Sir Leandros. You haven't forgotten anything. You're always doing well, so stop it."

"What have I forgotten?"

"Don't think about it anymore. Let's go back to our study. You're just a bit tired. I'll give you a chair in the study, and you can sit by the fire and rest. Then you'll feel better soon."

"I'm not tired."

Leandros mumbled, but Hero took his hand and pulled him.

Though it was a light movement like a feather, Leandros didn't dare resist.

Hero continued speaking as she took him up the stairs.

"Even if you're not tired, rest. You must have been standing for too long."

"I'm fine."

"Would you refuse even if it were my order?"

"That's..."

"Everyone needs rest. It's probably because you were in a warm place until just now and then went to such a cold place."

Passing by the black sea painting, returning to the Duchess's study, warm air enveloped his entire body.

Leandros, unknowingly relaxed, sat in the chair as Hero led him, burying his body deep into it.

Watching him, Hero gently stroked his head and affectionately coaxed him.

"Do you feel better now?"

"...I apologize for showing such an unsightly appearance."

"I should create proper rest time for you too. You probably didn't have a single peaceful day until coming to the ducal residence."

Was that so?

In his increasingly blurry consciousness, Leandros watched Hero moving toward the window.

The pouring rain had now turned into a blizzard, pounding on the windows.

The sky, no longer a damp dark cloud but a complete gray, was hidden as Hero drew the curtains. Leandros, listening to the sound of the fierce blizzard raging instead of rain, shifted his gaze to the flames in the fireplace.

The bright flames danced freely, illuminating the surroundings.

Leandros mumbled.

"Lady Hero."

"What is it?"

"Is fire always this warm?"

"What nonsense are you saying? All fires are hot. When you're near them, your body gets warm, right?"

No. The flames in Leandros's memory weren't like this.

He could remember one large flame.

A flame that was pale, enormous, white, and so cold that one would freeze just by approaching it.

He knew, rationally, that such a fire couldn't exist. Yet Leandros could clearly recall the cold fire.

Someone had been there.

The person who had told him about the cold fire, who had told him the name of that fire was.

Who on earth was it...

"Aphoom-Zhah."

A single word muttered like sleep-talking.

At that moment, Hero's face turned pale blue as she rushed toward Leandros, who had slumped by the fire.

"That's not-"

Don't!

With an ear-splitting scream, several large windows shattered simultaneously, glass fragments bursting out.

Hero's scream was swallowed by the violent blizzard blowing from beyond. Shelves collapsed and books flew around in the violent wind. Amidst the north wind carrying snow and ice, Leandros heard an unfamiliar whisper.

[Awaken.

My apostle, my human who has received my blessing.

One who dreams of forgotten glory, one eroded in a time that no one remembers.]

The study was wavering, scattering like a mirage. The voice continued.

[Worship the pure white ice and frost.

That which has not died can lie forever,

And in strange aeons even death may die.

My divine name is Arcturus.

As the ruler of a star that no longer exists, I covenant in the name of the only one who looks down upon you.]

Snow poured down.

Instead of the ducal residence and office that had vanished like dust, the whole world was dyed white.

Leandros walked forward, parting the snow.

His breath rose in the air, but he felt no cold.

In this place, there were only him and snow, countless snow and ice.

[Those who harm my apostle, receive the curse of the frozen land.

Those who protect my apostle, have the protection of ice.

One who has reached the right orbit. Praise the mercy of Arcturus.]

A voice that came on the wind and soon departed.

After walking and walking, Leandros was blocked by a large chunk of ice.

Sealed inside the ice, which had a subtle blue color, was a sword.

The faintly glowing silver-white blade and the jewels decorating the carved handle emitted a dull light.

[You are my sword. I am your protector.

In this place, we shall prove the ancient existence that has disappeared.]

Leandros instinctively sensed.

Grasping this sword would mean responding to the covenant of the Lord of the Extreme Realm.

Leandros looked up at the sky once, then extended his hand toward the ice.

A tearing voice shouted.

[Go, violate that arrogant dream!]

Then the ice, which had been gradually cracking, shattered, scattering pieces in all directions.

The whole world was sucked in beneath Leandros's feet as he grabbed Arcturus's sword.