The northern roads stretched endlessly beneath cold silver skies.
Winter winds swept across the vast plains while distant snow-covered mountains towered beyond the horizon like ancient sleeping giants watching silently over the North.
Kel rode calmly through the frozen roads atop his black warhorse while white mist escaped softly from the horse's nostrils beneath the cold air.
It had already been two weeks since he left Citadel.
Two weeks of endless travel.
Villages.
Forests.
Mountain roads.
Frozen rivers.
And throughout the journey—
The closer he approached the North's center—
The heavier the atmosphere became.
Because this territory was different.
Unlike the South filled with politics and trade…
The North respected only strength.
Coldness.
Survival.
And above all—
The authority of one man.
Duke Aktaris von Rosenfeld.
The Slaughter Dragon of the North.
The only ruler governing the entire northern region alone beneath Imperial authority.
Even after two years away—
Kel could still feel his father's influence everywhere.
The disciplined patrols.
The fortified villages.
The military order embedded into daily life itself.
No matter where one traveled within the North—
Rosenfeld authority remained absolute.
Eventually—
As night began falling—
Kel arrived near the outer regions surrounding the North's main capital city.
A small mountain village rested nearby beneath softly falling snow while warm golden lights glowed from scattered homes against the frozen darkness.
The young man quietly guided his horse toward the village inn afterward.
The building itself looked old yet sturdy.
Constructed from thick northern timber reinforced using dark stone foundations designed to survive harsh winter storms.
Warm light escaped through the windows.
And faint laughter echoed from inside.
Kel calmly entered afterward.
The moment he stepped inside—
Warmth greeted him immediately.
The smell of roasted meat, alcohol, burning wood, and northern spices filled the atmosphere while travelers, merchants, mercenaries, and local villagers occupied the large dining hall beneath hanging mana lanterns.
Snow melted softly from Kel's coat as he quietly removed his gloves.
Several people briefly glanced toward him.
Yet no one paid particular attention afterward.
To them—
He simply looked like another northern traveler.
Meanwhile—
Kel calmly rented a room before sitting near one quieter corner of the inn.
The fireplace nearby crackled warmly while servants moved between tables carrying drinks and meals beneath the noisy atmosphere.
Inside his mind—
Sairen softly muttered:
"You're unusually tense."
Kel quietly rested one arm against the wooden table.
"…Am I?"
"You've been quieter since entering northern territory."
Kel didn't answer.
Because she was right.
Somewhere deep inside—
The closer he approached home—
The more complicated his thoughts became.
Meanwhile—
Several men nearby suddenly began discussing something loudly enough for most of the inn to hear.
"Don't you hear?"
One older merchant leaned forward excitedly.
"The eldest son is finally returning from isolated training."
Another northern man immediately nodded.
"Aye."
"I want to see how much he improved."
Kel quietly remained silent while listening.
Meanwhile—
Another traveler laughed softly.
"Don't you remember what happened two years ago during the duke's noble gathering?"
A younger mercenary blinked once.
"What happened?"
The older man grinned.
"That boy defeated a noble heir publicly."
Another pause.
"What was his name again…"
The man scratched his beard briefly.
"…Ah yes."
"Kel."
"The eldest son of Duke Aktaris."
Kel quietly lowered his eyes toward the untouched cup resting before him afterward.
Meanwhile—
The conversation continued naturally nearby.
"These days the capital's full of rumors."
One man leaned closer conspiratorially.
"They say the young master was cursed."
Another nodded immediately.
"A deadly curse."
"And Duke Aktaris secretly found a cure."
The fireplace crackled softly beneath the heavy northern atmosphere.
"That so-called isolated training?"
The merchant snorted.
"Probably just an excuse to hide the treatment process."
Several nearby people quietly agreed afterward.
Then another older villager slowly shook his head.
"So what if it was?"
His rough voice carried calm certainty.
"A father would do anything for his son."
The inn quieted slightly afterward.
And slowly—
The old villager continued speaking.
"Especially Duke Aktaris."
Another pause.
"People think the duke is cold."
The man drank quietly before continuing.
"But they forget."
"When Lady Helene gave birth to their firstborn…"
The atmosphere subtly changed.
"…the northern frontier was drowning beneath monster hordes."
Several younger listeners immediately turned attentive.
The old man's eyes reflected distant memories beneath the firelight.
"I was there."
Silence spread afterward.
"The duke stood alone at the mountain pass."
Another pause.
"Killing monsters endlessly."
The crackling flames seemed louder now.
"He carved a path through entire hordes himself just so doctors could reach his wife safely."
One younger traveler widened his eyes.
"Alone?"
The old villager slowly nodded.
"Fiercely."
Another pause.
"When the physicians warned him…"
The man quietly looked toward the fireplace.
"…that the monsters' corrupted energy might affect the newborn child…"
His weathered eyes darkened slightly.
"…the duke slaughtered everything in sight."
Silence consumed the inn afterward.
Even several drunk mercenaries stopped speaking.
Because everyone within the North knew the stories.
The Slaughter Dragon Duke.
The monster who defended the North alone countless times.
Yet hearing the reason behind that particular battle…
Changed something.
Meanwhile—
Another man quietly sighed afterward.
"…And still…"
Another pause.
"…his firstborn ended up cursed."
The atmosphere became heavier afterward.
Someone quietly muttered:
"Cruel fate."
Another villager slowly folded his hands together.
"Let's just pray the young master survived."
Several nearby people nodded afterward.
"And that the curse truly disappeared."
Another pause followed.
"I hope he returns alive."
The crackling fireplace continued softly.
Meanwhile—
Kel remained completely silent in the corner of the inn.
Yet inside his chest—
Something felt strangely uncomfortable now.
Because honestly—
He never expected ordinary northern citizens to remember him this way.
Not as the cursed heir.
Not as weakness.
But as Duke Aktaris' son.
A child his father desperately fought to protect.
Inside his mind—
Sairen softly spoke.
"…You didn't know?"
Kel quietly stared toward the fireplace flames afterward.
"No."
The silver-haired spirit remained silent briefly.
Then softly—
"You always assumed your father viewed you as disappointment."
Kel slowly closed his eyes for a moment.
Because that assumption had followed him for years.
The coldness.
The silence.
The distance.
Yet hearing those stories now—
Something inside his understanding quietly shifted.
Meanwhile—
The villagers continued speaking.
"Honestly…"
One merchant laughed softly.
"If the young master truly returns cured…"
"…the North's future becomes terrifying."
Another nodded immediately.
"Duke Aktaris alone already scares half the Empire."
Another pause.
"Imagine if his heir becomes just as monstrous."
Laughter spread lightly afterward.
Yet Kel remained silent.
Because strangely—
For the first time in years—
The idea of returning home no longer felt entirely cold.
Meanwhile—
Outside the inn—
Snow continued falling gently beneath the northern night.
Eventually—
Kel quietly stood from his seat afterward.
The nearby conversations continued naturally without anyone realizing the very subject of their discussion had been listening silently among them the entire time.
Kel calmly placed several coins atop the table before walking toward the exit.
Inside his mind—
Sairen softly asked:
"What are you thinking?"
The young man slowly stepped outside into the falling snow afterward.
Cold winds brushed against his black hair beneath the silver moonlight.
Then quietly—
He answered.
"…Maybe…"
Another pause.
"…I misunderstood some things too."