The sun was setting.
Its pale golden light struggled against the endless sea of gray clouds stretching across the skies of Frostbound Coast.
Winter ruled this land.
Even sunlight appeared weaker here.
Colder.
As though the heavens themselves had surrendered to the frozen north long ago.
The lord's mansion stood atop a gentle rise overlooking the capital city.
From its highest windows, one could see smoke rising from countless chimneys, watchtowers standing against the snowy horizon, and walls that had endured decades of monster assaults.
Within his office, Kel Rosenfeld finally closed the last report.
The thick ledger made a dull sound as it landed atop the mountain of documents.
Silence filled the room.
The fireplace crackled softly.
Outside, the northern wind howled against the glass.
Kel leaned back slightly.
Golden eyes remained calm.
Yet countless calculations moved behind them.
Population.
Resources.
Guilds.
Trade.
Monster attacks.
Infrastructure.
Everything he had learned throughout the day slowly merged together.
A complete picture of Frostbound Coast was beginning to emerge.
And unfortunately...
Its military strength remained one of the greatest unknowns.
A territory could possess resources.
A territory could possess wealth.
A territory could possess potential.
Yet without strength...
All of it could be taken away.
Kel slowly stood from his chair.
The movement was smooth and elegant.
His dark coat settled naturally around his body.
Silver embroidery resembling frost-covered branches shimmered faintly beneath the firelight.
His silver hair swayed gently as he walked toward the office door.
The sun was setting.
Which meant training should be ending soon.
An ideal time to observe.
Without ceremony.
Without preparation.
Without anyone altering their behavior because their lord was watching.
The best observations were always made when people believed nobody important was looking.
The mansion corridors were quiet.
Servants bowed respectfully as he passed.
Kel acknowledged them with slight nods.
Soon, he exited the main building.
Instantly, the cold northern wind greeted him.
Sharp.
Biting.
The kind of cold that could freeze exposed skin within hours during the harshest winters.
Most nobles hated such weather.
Kel barely reacted.
His gaze shifted toward the distant training grounds.
The sound reached him first.
Steel striking steel.
Boots crushing snow.
Commands shouted across the field.
The training grounds occupied a large area beside the western section of the city wall.
Rows of weapon racks stood across the snow-covered grounds.
Practice dummies scarred by countless strikes stood like silent sentinels.
Dozens of knights trained under the fading sunlight.
Some practiced swordsmanship.
Others drilled formations.
Several archers continuously released arrows toward distant targets.
The atmosphere was serious.
Disciplined.
Yet something immediately caught Kel's attention.
The movements.
The knights were skilled.
But only by frontier standards.
Their techniques lacked refinement.
Many stances contained small inefficiencies.
Footwork was practical but crude.
Coordination existed.
Yet nowhere near the level of elite imperial forces.
Kel quietly walked through the edge of the grounds.
Observing.
Analyzing.
Calculating.
A pair of knights crossed swords.
One overcommitted.
The other reacted too slowly.
Both mistakes could become fatal on an actual battlefield.
Nearby.
A squad practiced shield formations.
Their discipline was respectable.
However, several soldiers showed signs of exhaustion.
Overworked.
Understaffed.
The signs were subtle.
Yet impossible to miss.
Kel's eyes narrowed slightly.
The military situation might be worse than expected.
Not because the knights lacked courage.
Because they lacked numbers.
As he continued observing, several knights gradually noticed his presence.
Whispers spread.
Their movements became noticeably stiffer.
Some nearly dropped their weapons.
Others straightened instinctively.
The newly arrived lord was watching.
Pressure naturally followed.
Kel ignored the reactions.
He simply continued observing.
Eventually.
One knight separated himself from the others.
The man appeared to be around fifty years old.
His face carried numerous scars.
One ran from his left eyebrow to his cheek.
Another disappeared beneath his beard.
Years of battle had etched themselves into his features.
His armor was old but meticulously maintained.
Every movement radiated experience.
Not talent.
Not brilliance.
Experience.
The kind forged through surviving countless battles.
The veteran approached.
Then stopped several meters away.
He placed a fist against his chest.
"My Lord."
Kel studied him briefly.
The man's posture remained respectful.
Yet there was no fear.
Only professionalism.
Interesting.
"At ease."
The veteran relaxed slightly.
"My name is Gareth Thornwall, my lord."
"Captain?"
Kel asked.
The man nodded.
"Vice-Captain of the City Guard."
Kel understood immediately.
One of the people most familiar with Frostbound Coast's military situation.
Convenient.
Kel's gaze shifted toward the training knights.
"How many knights are currently training?"
The question surprised Gareth.
His eyebrows rose slightly.
Most nobles asked about strength.
Few asked about numbers first.
Still, he answered immediately.
"One hundred and twelve, my lord."
Kel nodded.
"How many are stationed at the city walls?"
"One hundred and ninety-three."
Kel continued.
"Patrols?"
"Eighty-seven."
"Reserve forces?"
"Forty-one."
The more Gareth answered...
The more shocked he became.
Because Kel's questions were not random.
Each question targeted a critical military statistic.
The sort of information experienced commanders requested.
Not fifteen-year-old nobles.
Kel continued.
"Total knight count?"
Gareth hesitated briefly.
Then answered.
"Four hundred and thirty-three."
Silence followed.
The wind swept across the training grounds.
Several nearby knights unconsciously slowed their training to listen.
Kel remained expressionless.
Yet inwardly...
He sighed.
Four hundred and thirty-three.
For a territory this size...
The number was pitiful.
Dangerously pitiful.
Entire noble families in central regions maintained larger private armies.
Meanwhile Frostbound Coast was responsible for defending countless settlements.
Monster-infested wilderness.
Trade routes.
Mining operations.
And the capital itself.
With only four hundred and thirty-three knights.
No wonder monster attacks remained a constant problem.
Kel folded his arms.
"What are their ranks?"
Gareth visibly blinked.
That question genuinely caught him off guard.
"My lord?"
"The distribution."
Kel's voice remained calm.
"Beginner."
"Intermediate."
"Advanced."
"Expert."
"Master."
The veteran stared.
Then slowly answered.
"Approximately one hundred and seventy are Beginner Rank."
Kel nodded.
Expected.
"One hundred and ninety are Intermediate."
Reasonable.
"Fifty-three Advanced."
The number dropped sharply.
"Seventeen Experts."
Small.
Very small.
Gareth's expression grew slightly awkward.
"And..."
Kel looked at him.
"No Masters."
The answer carried a hint of bitterness.
The surrounding wind seemed colder.
No Masters.
Not a single Master-ranked knight within the entire territory.
That fact alone explained many things.
A Master-ranked knight could become a pillar supporting an entire region.
Yet Frostbound Coast possessed none.
The strongest defenders were merely Experts.
Kel gazed toward the city walls visible in the distance.
Snow covered their ancient stone.
Beyond them stretched endless frozen wilderness.
Dark forests.
Frozen mountains.
Monster nests.
Unknown dangers.
And only seventeen Experts stood between those dangers and the people living here.
A bleak reality.
Nearby.
Several younger knights lowered their heads.
Embarrassment flashed across their faces.
They knew their weakness.
They lived with it every day.
Gareth clenched his jaw slightly.
"My lord."
Kel looked toward him.
The veteran's voice remained steady.
"We may not be strong."
"We may not compare to the central provinces."
"But every knight here is willing to die protecting this territory."
Silence followed.
The training grounds grew quiet.
Many knights had stopped listening secretly.
Now they listened openly.
Their eyes fixed upon Gareth.
Then Kel.
The veteran continued.
"No matter how many monsters come."
"No matter how harsh winter becomes."
"We remain."
His scarred face remained expressionless.
Yet pride burned within his eyes.
"Because someone must."
The words carried weight.
Not arrogance.
Not boasting.
Truth.
Simple truth.
Kel studied the man.
Then slowly looked across the training grounds.
The knights.
The soldiers.
The archers.
Their equipment was old.
Many sets of armor showed repairs.
Several weapons displayed visible wear.
Their strength was mediocre.
Their numbers insufficient.
Their situation difficult.
Yet their eyes remained determined.
That determination was worth more than talent.
More than titles.
More than noble blood.
A faint smile appeared on Kel's face.
Small.
Barely noticeable.
Yet Gareth saw it.
And for some reason...
Relief washed through him.
Then Seiren's voice echoed within Kel's mind.
"What do you think?"
Far away.
Deep beneath Scarder Lake.
The ancient guardian observed silently.
Kel's gaze remained upon the knights.
"Their strength is lacking."
"Their numbers are lacking."
"Their equipment is lacking."
Seiren waited.
Then Kel continued.
"But their foundation is excellent."
The guardian seemed surprised.
"Foundation?"
Kel watched a young knight helping another stand after being knocked into the snow.
No ridicule.
No mockery.
Only camaraderie.
His smile deepened slightly.
"Loyalty."
"Discipline."
"Responsibility."
"The desire to protect."
His eyes shone faintly.
"Strength can be taught."
"Numbers can be increased."
"Equipment can be improved."
"But character..."
Kel's gaze swept across the training grounds.
"Character is much harder to create."
Silence followed.
Then Seiren laughed softly.
A rare sound.
Ancient and beautiful.
"You have already started planning, haven't you?"
Kel chuckled.
Very slightly.
Of course he had.
The moment he learned there were no Masters.
The moment he saw their training.
The moment he witnessed their determination.
Plans had already begun forming.
Numerous plans.
One after another.
Like stars appearing across a night sky.
The sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon.
Darkness slowly descended.
Lanterns throughout the city began illuminating one after another.
The training session was ending.
Knights started returning equipment.
Some headed toward barracks.
Others prepared for night patrols.
Yet many continued glancing toward their young lord.
Curious.
Hopeful.
Uncertain.
Kel looked at them one final time.
Then he spoke.
His voice was calm.
Yet every knight heard it clearly.
"You've protected this territory until now."
The training grounds became completely silent.
Snow drifted through the air.
The northern wind howled beyond the walls.
Kel's golden eyes swept across every face.
"Continue doing so."
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Simple words.
Yet for some reason...
The exhausted knights straightened instinctively.
Something within their expressions changed.
The young lord turned.
His coat fluttered behind him.
And he began walking back toward the mansion.
Behind him.
The frozen defenders of Frostbound Coast watched silently.
None of them realized it yet.
But for the first time in decades...
Their territory possessed a lord who had truly seen them.
And Kel Rosenfeld had already begun considering how to transform four hundred and thirty-three struggling frontier knights...
Into a force capable of shaking the North itself.