When the sun set and the first day of the banquet came to an end, the invited guests headed to the chambers assigned to them.
Rooms in the White Palace that had gone unused for nearly a thousand years.
It would have been natural to explore them out of curiosity, yet not a single guest remained quietly in their room.
Baron Elvin, whose territory lay relatively close to Asagrim, was one of them.
'This is giving me a headache.'
Elvin pressed his throbbing temples as he sank into thought.
For over forty years, he had never dreamed of ambition, nor had he devoted himself to loyalty.
If this ambiguous peace could simply continue, that alone would have satisfied him.
'And now, of all times, they're telling us to choose—either the Imperial House or Calyx.'
A sigh escaped him.
It was practically an unanswerable choice.
Whichever side he chose, he was bound to be swept into war.
"Out for a walk as well?"
At that moment, a voice from behind pulled Elvin out of his thoughts.
It belonged to Baron Stellan—the lord of a neighboring territory and a friend with whom he had shared ties for many years.
"I couldn't fall asleep. Judging by the look of it, you're the same."
"After hearing words like that, how could anyone sleep?"
At Stellan's remark, Elvin let out a bitter smile.
Perhaps because they had known each other for so long, his unvarnished sincerity showed through.
"My friend, there are some things you really shouldn't say so freely in His Grace's domain. There are many ears listening—best to watch your words."
"I don't think that's necessary. It's not just us—everyone around is busy whispering as well."
When Elvin looked in the direction Stellan indicated, he saw shadows here and there, murmuring in clusters.
Some were gathered with acquaintances, others with members of the same faction, all of them quietly talking about something.
He couldn't hear the specifics, but it was obvious what they were discussing.
"Looks like they're wrestling with the same worries we are."
"With one wrong step, our territories could be swept into war. It's only natural. Have you made your decision?"
"Not yet. To be honest, I don't want to make one."
"You know better than anyone that that's the most foolish decision of all."
"I've got nothing to say to that."
Struck squarely by the truth, Elvin let out a deep sigh.
Neutrality, in the end, meant being a gray opportunist who could switch sides at any moment.
By their very existence, neutrals were walking variables—and were sometimes considered even more dangerous than enemies.
Without sufficient power, they could be treated as a common enemy and eliminated first.
"Still, I'm worried that making a hasty decision could backfire. If things go wrong, we might end up as nothing more than arrow fodder for whichever side we join."
"So you're also watching how others move while you hesitate? If everyone drags their feet together, no one will be singled out for reproach."
"Couldn't you put that a little more tactfully? You always zero in on the parts people least want to hear."
"I say it because I feel the same way. It's pathetic, but I just can't bring myself to decide."
The two of them fell silent at the same time, quietly gazing up at the sky.
No matter how they thought about it, every option demanded nothing but sacrifice—whichever they chose, it would be a loss.
Then, someone slipped in between them.
"What foolish talk. When the answer is plainly in front of you, what is there to agonize over?"
***
The two men, who had been speaking in hushed tones, felt their hearts plunge.
The person who had intruded between them was none other than Lucian himself.
"Y-Your Grace the Duke, we greet—!"
"That's enough. Go on—continue your conversation."
Elvin and Stellan both clamped their mouths shut.
How could they possibly speak of which side to choose in front of the very man concerned?
As the silence dragged on, Lucian let out a soft chuckle and whispered,
"You seem deeply troubled. If you'd like, I can give you the answer. Side with whoever wins—me or Calyx."
"…Pardon?"
"If making a decision right now is difficult, then waiting until everything becomes clear is also a valid approach. Don't you think?"
Unsure whether he was joking or serious, the two felt utterly bewildered.
It wouldn't have been strange for him to pressure them to take his side immediately—yet here he was openly telling them to sit back and watch.
"To be honest, excessive support isn't all that welcome to me. If people take risks and support me early, I'd have to reward them accordingly, wouldn't I? It's much better if there are plenty who just watch the situation and hedge their bets—I can boast all I want later."
"H-Haha… that's quite the joke, Your Grace."
"I'm serious. In any case, the Calyx Count's House could be swept away the moment His Majesty the Emperor opens the door. Why would I trouble myself gathering supporters? It's better to leave them alone and later treat those who only watched the wind as nothing more than bats."
"—!"
At the word door, both men froze.
The massive transport of troops and supplies using magic—the very thing that had left everyone stunned.
Such an extraordinary spell would surely be difficult to use freely in a full-scale war.
But if it were used just once, targeting only the stronghold of a specific house—
'Even a great house that has thoroughly prepared for war could be annihilated in a single day.'
When that thought fully sank in, a chill ran down their spines.
Any faction collapses once its core is removed.
If the Calyx Count's House alone were erased, its allies would inevitably splinter and scatter.
And then Lucian would reign as the sole hegemon of the North, leaving no choices at all.
"If you seek no reward, choose the safer path. But whichever side you choose, maintaining the status quo will be impossible."
Without waiting for a reply from the two men, Lucian turned and walked away.
He could feel countless gazes pricking at his skin, but that attention was exactly what he wanted.
The more eyes that followed him, the more the contents of that conversation would spread in every direction.
'I never intended to turn them into my allies with nothing more than a warning like that.'
What mattered was simply reminding them how terrifying dimensional gates truly were.
Of course, Lucian himself did not know what weaknesses that magic might have.
Neither the Emperor nor glen had told him.
The one thing he knew for certain was this:
someone had to already be present at the location where the door was to be opened.
'At best, it might only be usable once every few months. Or perhaps preparations are required on the other side, or it may demand an enormous cost each time.'
But no matter what its weaknesses were, opening it just one more time would be enough.
The moment you imagined that opening taking place at your own family's stronghold, you would be unable to move.
Since anyone could become that first target, no one could help but hesitate to stand as Calyx's ally.
Even if they steeled their resolve later, they would never dare attempt any schemes while the Hundred-Day Hunt was underway.
"It will be a fair match."
Lucian walked the corridors of the White Palace with a satisfied smile.
If others were having similar conversations, he would simply repeat the same words to them.
Two days later, Lucian led the lords up the snowy mountains behind Asagrim.
Because Asagrim was regarded as a sacred land, the mountain behind it—Bangnil—was likewise considered a holy mountain.
Their purpose was, of course, the promised Hundred-Day Hunt.
Though it was an event meant to revive an old tradition, not a single person looked pleased.
'Is this really going to be all right? Will it truly end quietly?'
'I'm anxious to death. They won't stab us in the back, will they?'
The participants belonged to two factions that could never truly coexist.
It was nerve-wracking enough to leave them alone anywhere—yet now they were beyond human reach, in snowbound mountains.
Worse still, they would be spending a full half month together in the same place.
Even if one joined thoughtlessly, it was more than enough time to plan an assassination afterward.
Yet the parties at the very center of it all wore utterly unconcerned expressions.
"Ahem! Then, we shall begin the Hundred-Day Hunt."
Because he had happened to speak with them the night before, Baron Elvin found himself abruptly appointed as the judge and proceeded to explain the rules.
For half a month, the participants were to survive in the snowy mountains solely by hunting, and the one who returned with the most valuable trophy would be declared the victor.
However, if anyone were to die during that time, it would be considered an outright failure regardless of the trophy's value—a simple set of rules.
"Lastly, we will check your belongings. Above all else, bringing provisions is strictly forbidden."
"Feel free to check as thoroughly as you like."
"I didn't even bring a strip of jerky."
Lucian and Godfrey—the eldest son of Norbek of the Calyx Count's House—answered almost simultaneously.
As Elvin conducted a cursory inspection of their possessions, he noticed something odd.
'What's this? A tattoo?'
All the participants from the Calyx Count's House had tattoos of lightning etched into their palms.
They glimmered faintly, suggesting that some kind of special pigment had been used.
'I don't recall Calyx having a tradition of inscribing tattoos like this…'
Elvin felt a vague sense of unease, but soon decided to let it go.
If a mere baron like himself were to point something out to Calyx, it would only invite anger.
More importantly, aside from the unfamiliar tattoos, there was nothing else suspicious—so it seemed safe enough to overlook.
"Very well. Both of you may depart. We shall meet again in half a month."
At the signal marking the start of the Hundred-Day Hunt, Lucian and Godfrey scattered in opposite directions.
It was only natural—they needed to avoid overlapping hunting grounds.
But the moment they moved far enough that people's eyes could no longer reach him, Godfrey's eyes flashed sharply.
"Is there anyone watching us?"
"At least, there's no one within sight."
"Good. From here on, we pursue them. And Mage—don't forget that your role is the most important."
At Godfrey's sharp gaze, Colin nodded.
"Do not worry. The preparations are already complete. However, my lord will need to buy us some time."
"I know. You said your magic takes a fair amount of time to cast."
"Yes. Moreover, once the location is fixed, it cannot be changed. If the target senses danger beforehand and leaves the area, the lightning will strike nothing but empty ground."
"I don't mind stalling—but can you truly ensure that we won't get caught up in it?"
Though he had never seen it firsthand, Godfrey had heard that Colin's magic summoned lightning itself.
Colin claimed it could incinerate an entire small hill, meaning its area of effect was considerable.
If they were close enough to converse with the enemy, there was a real risk that Godfrey's group could be caught in it as well.
"Rest assured. Did I not inscribe the mark on you?"
"You're telling me this tiny tattoo can really let us avoid lightning?"
"More precisely, the lightning disperses around it and does not draw near. It is the very essence of my magic."
Colin spoke with a confident smile.
"In the Celestial Studies School, we call it a lightning rod."
"A rod that repels lightning? Sounds convincing. But isn't it strange to call a tattoo a rod?"
"That's because it was originally made as an actual rod. As magic advanced, it became possible to replace it with a tattoo."
That meant it was not a hastily improvised spell, but a secret art passed down over many years.
At those words, Godfrey and the others finally felt at ease.
If it had been transmitted as a secret art, its level of completion was bound to be high.
"So in other words, as long as we have this lightning rod, we'll be safe?"
"Yes. Just as the name implies, it will allow you to avoid lightning. As long as you stay ten paces away, the lightning will never reach you."
"Good. I'll place my trust in your words. Everyone, be careful not to let this 'lightning rod' be erased! This is our lifeline!"
"Yes, sir!"
With that assurance, Godfrey led his group in pursuit of Lucian—
never noticing the expression on Colin's face as he struggled to suppress a grin behind them.
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