RODH Chapter 26
by Brie26.
A soul that not even the loneliness of a snow-covered mountain could break.
Perhaps his father had foreseen it all.
Imperial Year 1432.
During an unprecedented monster wave, Ephasia, the Dragon King’s younger sister, lost her mind and went berserk.
A request for aid was sent to the imperial family, but by then it was already too late.
With the death of both his parents, Nevan was left alone.
It was hard to believe that just a month ago, his father had been watching deer with him, and his mother had been knitting a winter cloak for him. And now they were both gone.
But that disbelief shattered before the grandeur of their funeral.
Thick snowflakes began to fall over the graves where generations of his family lay buried.
One by one, from the imperial envoy to those who had failed to protect the head of the house, each laid a hand on Nevan’s shoulder before moving on.
Nevan could not cry.
People of the North are born with resilient souls, unshaken even by the solitude of the snow-covered mountains.
His grief was expressed for him by his cousin, the only family he had left, who sobbed uncontrollably in his stead.
“Nevan, I’m sorry. I came too late, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I left you alone.”
Nevan shook his head.
But she stayed with him until she believed he would be okay, and only then did she leave.
Now, the only ones left by Nevan’s side were the elders and retainers who served House Kirias.
The elders said that unless he became a swordmaster like the previous head, he could not claim the name Grand Duke of Kirias.
That sparked resistance.
“To spout such nonsense when the direct heir of Kirias stands before you! I don’t care if you’re an elder — this is unforgivable.”
Schwing—
The first to draw his sword was Klain.
Led by Klain, his father’s loyal retainers raised their swords with cold determination.
At that moment, Nevan raised his hand.
“I’ll do it.”
“Your Grace!”
“But if I become a swordmaster, you will hand over all authority of Kirias to me, without exception.”
The elders, despite his youth, lowered their heads before Nevan, who bore the same fierce spirit as his predecessor.
“So be it.”
Five years later, Nevan reclaimed everything that belonged to House Kirias.
He spent more time roaming the domain than he did inside the estate, so the mansion felt unfamiliar.
Nevan lifted his head.
His eyes landed on a family photo hanging over the red carpet that stretched from the stairs to the front door.
He thought of his father — strict but kind — and his mother, always gentle.
The child cradled in his mother’s arms looked completely at peace.
Five years had changed many things about Nevan.
But his love for his family remained the same.
There had even been a time when he imagined building a family of his own.
But who would marry into the harsh north? And even if someone did, Nevan didn’t welcome the idea.
Because of the curse passed down in House Kirias.
People speak of House Kirias — tied to imperial blood — as a “legend,” but they know the truth too.
That it’s a curse.
—From this day forth, only single sons shall be born in the House of Kirias. Unless one comes who brings spring to Kirias, this curse will persist. They shall feel the loneliness of the snow-covered mountain until their dying breath.
The one who brings spring.
How hard the elders and retainers had worked to find him.
Nevan began to wonder—perhaps this so-called curse was nothing more than coincidence.
Being overly obsessed with it, or obsessed with breaking it, wasn’t the right path either.
The present is the present.
House Kirias would never fall.
Even if he were to lose his life…
Nevan sat at his office desk and, instead of parchment, pulled out fine paper.
It was time to write a reply.
Since morning, Bain had been running around like his eyebrows were on fire.
The moment word came from the first floor that a letter had arrived — before the butler could even place the stack of letters onto the silver tray — Bain had lunged at it in a rush.
The butler’s face twisted in fury; there was nothing he hated more in the world than having the order of letters disrupted.
Unable to hold back, he shouted at Bain.
“Bain!”
“Hehehe, I’m sorry! It’s just… this was really urgent!”
“What’s all this racket from the morning!”
“You’ll get hurt if you find out, old man.”
“What? You little…!”
As the butler tried to swat him across the back, Bain dodged swiftly and bounded up the stairs two steps at a time.
In his hand was a letter sealed with the crest of House Kirias.
“My lord, my lord!”
Bain ran so hard he was gasping for air, especially with the butler chasing him all the way up to the second floor. He pounded on Ian’s door like mad.
“You’ll break the door down. Just come in.”
Only after Ian gave permission did Bain open the door and let out a heavy sigh.
“Phewww.”
“What’s got you in a frenzy?”
“A letter! A letter came — from His Grace, the Grand Duke of Kirias!”
“What? Give it here.”
Ian hadn’t expected a reply this quickly.
He carefully opened the envelope, making sure not to damage the seal.
He had written three whole pages, but the reply was barely a single sheet. Even so, its content was more than worth the wait.
[…I don’t know why you suddenly wrote to me, but thank you for the travel funds last time.
I’m scheduled to inspect the mines with Duke Ruben in early summer.
As you once mentioned, there’s no better season than summer to see deer in herds.
If you have the chance, I hope you’ll visit the Grand Duke’s estate.
– Nevan Nik Kirias]
Ian stood still for a long moment, letter in hand.
Did he really just ask me to visit?
That stiff, unapproachable man—was he being serious? Ian was so dumbfounded he just stared blankly until Bain snapped him out of it.
“My lord, is something wrong?”
“No. It’s all good. His Grace invited me.”
“Wow!”
Bain was twice as excited as Ian was.
If they went to the North on this trip, just as Nevan had written, Ian would get to study the mining site and see the deer herds too.
His excitement lasted only a moment, interrupted by a polite knock at the door.
“Come in.”
“Young master, a letter has arrived from the imperial palace.”
“Hm?”
The sender was none other than Seor.
[To my beloved fiancé, Ian Pearl Ruben.]
Ah, damn it. Ian didn’t want to read another word after the opening.
Beloved fiancé, my fiancé?
Give me a break.
Bain, who could read Ian’s mood better than anyone, cautiously asked as he glanced at Ian’s scowling face:
“My lord, shall I burn it?”
He pointed to the fireplace, where only embers remained.
But Ian decided he’d hold back—just three times.
He let the opening slide. That was once.
[…Soon, the rose—queen of spring—will bloom. I’m writing to ask if you’d join me for this year’s May Festival.
But I know someone as cold as the wind in Ferost will make some excuse to avoid it anyway.]
For someone who’s so clever, why the hell is he so stubborn about canceling the engagement?
Ian made a mental note: a face-to-face meeting was long overdue.
But then the letter took an even stranger turn.
[That’s why I’ve received an imperial decree from His Majesty. No matter what, you must attend the May Festival.
Of course, it would be lovely if you were waiting eagerly to see me—but I gave up on that hope a long time ago. You’re always so cruel to me.]
That was the third strike.
Ian had no idea what kind of nonsense this was—an imperial decree? Wait for him out of longing? What utter garbage.
He didn’t bother reading the rest of the letter, which, like most noble correspondence, was padded with flowery nonsense anyway.
Instead—
“Bain.”
“Yes, young master!”
“Burn it.”
“Understood!”
Bain blew into the hearth and revived the dying flame.
Since one couldn’t just toss away an imperial decree, he made sure to only burn Seor’s damned letter.
“If only I could throw him into the fire too… that’d be satisfying.”
Bain pretended he didn’t hear that.
As the timing of the May Festival and my visit to the Grand Duke’s estate in Kirias began to overlap, I quickly sank into a slump.
With an imperial decree already issued, my father and mother insisted I take care of my health.
I couldn’t bring myself to say I didn’t want to go, so I just stayed holed up in my room all day.
Bain, perhaps feeling sorry for me, stayed by my side—playing chess with me, acting as my tutor when I reviewed my lessons.
While looking through the journal left behind by Berkisto, Bain tilted his head in confusion.
“There really isn’t a single record about the North, just like you said, my lord?”
“That’s what’s strange. If he was someone who visited the Mage Tower like it was his own backyard, then surely he must’ve gone to the North at least once, right?”
Bain pondered for a moment before saying,
“What if the records are somewhere else?”
“But this was all there was in the archives.”
“Hm…”
Bain flipped through the leather-bound journal in one sweep.
“My lord, there’s a note here.”
“A note? Let me see.”
He didn’t know where it had fallen out from, but if it was tucked away inside the journal, it had to be something important.
No one would hide something so deeply unless it was.
I opened the note—it was so clean, it looked like it could have been written just yesterday, as if it had been kept in total darkness.
[Behind the ducal manor. Take seventeen steps.
When the sun in the courtyard points northwest, at the tip of that shadow, ‘it’ will be there.]
“It”?
I had no idea what Berkisto was referring to, but I decided to search for it first.
He was a meticulous record keeper—so maybe, instead of including it in the official family journals, he had buried something else somewhere.
And so, the next morning,
Bain and I headed behind the ducal manor to find the “it” that Berkisto had hidden.
To cast a shadow toward the northwest, it had to be relatively early in the morning.
“…Sixteen, seventeen. My lord, that’s seventeen steps!”
At Bain’s words, I picked up the trowel.