RODH Chapter 46

46.

Clang—!

Clang—!

The repeated sound of metal being hammered stirred me awake.

Someone was striking something yellowish and reddish with a hammer.

Ssshhh!

As the metal was quenched in water, a sharp hiss filled the air, followed by thick smoke.

As my vision cleared from the glare of the flames, my eyes widened.

A short, stocky blacksmith was forging a sword.

And not just any sword—it was the very one Nevan and I had discovered earlier.

Before I could make sense of what was happening, a voice flowed into my mind.

—Has the sword been completed?

A tall man bent down to enter the tiny forge, barely larger than a cave.

He wore familiar snow leopard leather and had a scar across his face.

—Ah, Your Grace. I just finished it.

At the words “Your Grace,” I stood up and tried to step between the two.

But it was as if they couldn’t see me.

The blacksmith handed the sword with the strange script to the man.

He held it high, inspecting it from various angles.

—A fine blade.

—Yes. In two hundred years, I’ve never seen one like it.

The blacksmith, visibly excited, continued,

—Would you like to name it?

—Hmm.

The man stepped outside, still holding the sword.

The blacksmith waddled after him on his short, thick legs.

The man was swinging the sword.

More precisely, it looked like he was performing a sword dance.

It seemed to be dawn—the blade shimmered with a crimson hue, like morning light.

His movements were light, and the sword looked sharp enough to cut down any monster with ease.

When the dance ended, the man spoke.

—I’ve decided on a name.

The blacksmith, who had been holding his breath like I was, asked,

—What is it?

—Hallow. Hallow Knight.

Hallow Knight…

And then I began drifting away from the blacksmith and the man.

It felt like my entire body was being shaken—just like when I flew through the air with Lucian.

As they vanished completely from view and everything went dark, a new world unfolded.

Reality had returned.

“Ian!”

Lucian and a crowd of others were gathered around my bed.

---

“What on earth happened?”

Ian grimaced at the strange feeling in his throat.

“Young master, here’s some water.”

Bain quickly brought a glass to his lips.

Only after downing the water like a thirsty deer did his mind clear.

Nevan, who met his eyes, spoke.

“You collapsed after touching the sword we found in the cave. We returned to base camp, but when there was nothing we could do, we brought you back to the estate.”

“I see. But… who are all these people?”

“They are the elders who decide the major affairs of House Kirias.”

Ian guessed immediately that the finely dressed ones were the elders.

But he still didn’t understand why they were here.

Well, at least it pushed Seor, Peter, Lucian, and Alvis out of the spotlight, which made things a bit more comfortable… Still, being surrounded by unfamiliar faces was awkward.

The elders whispered among themselves about the Winstoll tree and spring and such, but then they parted to reveal something wrapped in a thick carpet.

It was Morris, the northern retainer, who presented a piece of the broken sword to Ian.

Surely they weren’t asking him to touch it again.

Ian definitely did not want to collapse a second time.

His hangover hadn’t fully worn off yet, and if some physician noticed anything while examining him, it would be mortifying.

Thankfully, Morris asked something else.

“Lord Ian, do you know the name of this sword?”

Ian frowned at the clang, clang echoing in his head.

The name…

He knew it… What was it again?

“Wait a moment. My head hurts too much.”

At the mention of pain, Seor pushed his way through the elders and warned them not to pester Ian with unnecessary questions.

“Ian may not be now, but he was once the crown princess-to-be. Don’t force anything on him.”

That was the first time Ian ever felt grateful to Seor.

Pressing his throbbing temple, Ian muttered,

“Hallow…”

“Hallow?”

“Hallow Knight. That’s it—it was called Hallow Knight.”

As soon as Ian said it, the elders looked around at one another and shouted in unison:

“We greet the One Who Brings Spring!”

Ian was baffled.

He just wanted to live quietly, and now that dream was crumbling before his eyes.

“Um… is it okay if I don’t do this whole ‘Bringer of Spring’ thing?”

At that, the elders each took turns pleading with him.

After fending off more than twenty elders, Ian finally gave up.

“Fine. I’ll do it. The Bringer of Spring, or whatever.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Sigh.

Now what?

Ian sank into serious thought, unable to even lie back on the bed.

---

“Hallow Knight is said to be the sword the first Grand Duke used to defeat the Demon Lord. And now to actually see it in person…! Lord Ian, you truly are incredible!”

Luke was so thrilled he pushed aside even his favorite meat dish.

On the other hand, Klain didn’t seem pleased at all with Ian being acknowledged by the elders.

And Ian knew it.

How could he not, when Klain was shooting him such disapproving looks?

Maybe that’s why Ian couldn’t eat properly.

Watching him peck at his food like a bird, Lucian asked with concern,

“Ian, are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

He tried to act unbothered, but his head had never felt this muddled.

Things had gone surprisingly well up to the annulment, but now that he was the “Bringer of Spring,” did that mean he was expected to become the Grand Duchess-to-be?

As if reading Ian’s thoughts, Alvis spoke up.

“I’ve heard that the Grand Duchesses of House Kirias have always been able to use magic.”

Nevan replied,

“That’s true.”

“May I ask what kind of abilities the former Grand Duchess possessed?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“I see. For the record, Lord Ian can’t use magic.”

“That’s correct.”

After that, Nevan’s gaze lingered on Ian, but Ian met his eyes only briefly before looking away.

Suddenly, he found himself curious about Nevan’s mother.

Would there be something about her in Berkisto’s journal?

Ian returned to his room after leaving most of his dinner untouched.

Seor, Peter, Lucian, and Alvis each came to check on him in turn, but he asked Bain to send them all away.

He needed a bit of time alone.

---

I took out the magic pouch Alvis had given me.

As expected, Berkisto had obsessively recorded everything about the North.

“Nevan Nik Kirias…”

Following Nevan’s name upward, I found the details of his parents, written like a lineage.

Just as Alvis had said, it seemed every previous Grand Duchess of Kirias had been able to use magic.

[From minor telekinesis to the ability to influence weather patterns,
every Grand Duchess of House Kirias has shown a natural talent for magic.
There are even rumors some were originally from the Magic Tower.]

“But I can’t use magic.”

Is that unrelated to being the Bringer of Spring?

Does that mean the Grand Duchess role is separate?

The thought of Nevan having another partner suddenly made me feel a little down.

“Good thoughts, good thoughts…”

Muttering like a proper wizard, I began reading about Nevan’s mother.

[Siena Nik Kirias
Date of birth and death: ?–1432
Wife of Philip Nik Kirias and mother of Nevan Nik Kirias.
Thanks to her gentle nature, she married without opposition from the notoriously strict elders of Kirias.
Her magical ability dealt with time, but due to the ironclad security of House Kirias, this journal cannot contain further details.
(If a descendant is reading this, please fill in the blanks.)
( )]

Magic related to time.

Worry clung to me like a plague.

Thanks to being the Bringer of Spring, I was practically imprisoned in the North, and all I’d learned about regression was barely a speck—an unsatisfying trace.

It must’ve been the summer heat, because I downed a full glass of water in one go.

In front of the fireplace, Bain was dozing off.

“I’m going for a walk. Sleep well.”

“Young master, don’t go too far.”

“Okay.”

I opened the door, and through the window, I could see Nevan training outside.

My mind was too cluttered to go to him, so I decided to watch from afar instead.

That’s when Lucian appeared without a sound.

“You’ve got that troubled look again.”

“Lord Lucian.”

“That charm I gave you doesn’t seem to work on you.”

“Then I’ll return it.”

Lucian shook his head.

“No. That’s not what I meant.”

He gently took my hand and traced a circle on my palm with his thumb.

It tickled—and with it came the scent of blackberries.

His dominant alpha pheromones eased my body, and he sighed as he spoke.

“Sometimes it feels like you’re really far away. It worries me.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Says the one who always shows up after blasting holes in ceilings.

I wanted to throw that back at him, but Lucian’s violet eyes sparkled so earnestly that I couldn’t.

“Don’t go anywhere, Ian. If you do, you have to tell me, okay?”

“Yes.”

Lucian smiled faintly.

He glanced out the window and said,

“It’s cold, so don’t go outside.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“Good.”

“By the way, Lord Lucian.”

“Yeah?”

There was something that had been bothering me.

That crazy old man we’d seen at the night market—the one who warned that darkness was coming.

It nagged at me, especially now that we’d discovered Hallow Knight, the very sword said to have once slain the Demon Lord.

“What is it?”

“That sword. Hallow Knight… do you think it can be repaired?”

“Hmm. From what I’ve heard, only the best blacksmith could even attempt it.”

Dragons are obsessed with weapons and shiny things.

So I figured Lucian might know something.

“Do you know who the best blacksmith is?”