RODH Chapter 29

29.

Just as the coachman said, the herd of deer began to chase after us.

They had been running in a wide circle, but then, led by their alpha, they overtook the carriage.

The deer were so close outside the window that the glass rattled.

“Hold on tight, young master!”

At the coachman’s warning, I grabbed the handle fixed to the carriage ceiling and practically hung from it with all my weight.

Just as my arms began to ache, the power of the stampeding herd made the carriage lurch to one side.

“Ugh…”

I didn’t know why the deer were suddenly so agitated, but I genuinely began to think I might die here.

I yelled to the coachman.

“Can’t you slow down a little?”

“If we want to shake them off, we can’t slow down, young master!”

“Damn it!”

To think my fifth death might be by a herd of deer.

Just as I was cursing Lucian for this whole mess, the deer surrounded the carriage.

I didn’t know what they wanted, but if we didn’t slow down, they’d push right into the estate at this rate.

I looked around for the alpha of the herd.

He was running just a few paces away from my side of the carriage.

The large and small scars carved into his solid antlers spoke to the many battles he’d endured.

But strangely, his eyes were gentle.

He didn’t seem like he intended to hurt me.

It was hard to put into words, but I had a gut feeling.

I calmed the panicked coachman.

“Ease up a little. At this rate, we’ll crash into the outer wall—or go straight off a cliff.”

“Ah, y-yes, understood.”

The coachman mustered up his courage and slowly reduced the speed.

The magic stone’s hum quieted, and the carriage slowed noticeably. The deer followed suit, reducing their pace as well.

From above, it probably looked like a dot of a carriage surrounded by over a hundred deer, circling it slowly.

We were almost at the Grand Duke’s estate in Kirias, and I let out a sigh.

This wasn’t just noticeable—it was absurdly conspicuous.

At that moment, a gunshot rang out.

Bang!

The sound sliced through the air, and the startled herd scattered in all directions.

But as they tried to regroup around their alpha and the carriage, more gunshots rang out.

Bang!

Pow!

“Oh dear, I’m gonna die!”

The coachman whimpered, but I opened the window and stuck my head out to grasp the situation.

The cold Ferost wind slapped me hard across the face.

I could feel my cheeks flush red almost instantly.

The one firing the shots was a Northerner in leather clothing.

He sat atop a sturdy horse that didn’t flinch at the gunfire, focusing on driving the herd away.

I told the coachman to stop the carriage.

He sniffled and brought it to a halt.

Without waiting for an escort, I stepped down and approached the man to greet him.

“My name is Ian Pearl Ruben, heir to House Ruben.”

Like Sir Klain, the man had a rough appearance, but he dismounted with ease.

“I heard you were coming. The deer must’ve startled you, but I’m glad you made it safely. My name is Luke.”

“Sir Luke.”

“Just call me Luke, young master Ruben.”

“Alright, Luke.”

Thankfully, Luke seemed gentler than Sir Klain.

My etiquette tutor once said that Northerners tend to skip formal greetings. And if someone did extend their greetings with more than a single line, it meant they were especially kind—even by Northern standards.

By that measure, Luke was quite friendly.

I got back into the carriage and told the coachman,

“Let’s follow Sir Luke quickly. If another herd shows up, it’ll be a real headache.”

“Yes, young master.”

---

The people of Kirias were just as humble as the rumors said.

Most wore dull-colored robes to block the snow and wind, and there were hardly any tall buildings in sight.

Still, as the carriage passed the entrance to the marketplace, the town felt just as lively as any other estate.

Ian, slightly more relaxed after the deer herd incident, let out a small laugh when he saw curious children tapping on the carriage and getting scolded.

Would he be able to make it all the way to the mines today?

Unless he had two bodies, he figured it would be impossible with just one.

As expected, Luke noticed the fatigue on Ian’s face and spoke up.

“Even if we leave for the mines now, the sun will set and we’d have to come right back. You should visit another time.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.”

The Grand Duke’s estate was a bit more lavish than it appeared from the outside.

It somewhat resembled the imperial palace… and that made Ian uneasy, wondering if the Emperor’s influence had reached even here.

Whether the Grand Duke was aware of it or not, Ian couldn’t help but think the Emperor really was a cunning man.

That kind of irreverent thought obviously wouldn’t benefit his future in any way, but he couldn’t stop it from surfacing.

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing. I suppose I’m still a bit worn out from being chased by that herd of deer…”

“That was a first for me as well. It’s an unusual occurrence. I’ll have to file a report.”

“Is it that serious?”

Luke nodded in place of answering.

“The parlor is this way.”

Once inside the parlor, the cold eased a little.

While the estate was warmer than outside, it didn’t seem like they paid much attention to heating overall.

It was obvious they were burning extra firewood just for a guest unfamiliar with the North.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you, Luke.”

Luke silently stared at Ian, who was about two handspans shorter than him.

He’d heard the people from the central and southern regions were all arrogant and slick-tongued—but as expected of the Empire’s top noble house.

He scribbled a short letter about the deer herd’s attack and sent it off with a hawk.

When it came to navigating mountain ranges, nothing beat a hawk—not even a message bird in a fur coat.

Luke’s lips twitched slightly.

Anyway, the master would be back soon after hearing the report.

The North was sensitive to even the smallest changes.

Because those small shifts could be signs of an incoming monster wave.

As Luke briefly pondered this, the door to the parlor creaked open.

A guest wrapped in a cloak hesitated at the entrance, then asked,

“Um… would it be possible to tour the Grand Duke’s estate?”

“You can’t go too deep.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“That doesn’t mean everything is off-limits. Please follow me.”

“Th-Thank you.”

Ian, unfamiliar with the Northern way of speaking, stuttered a bit at the blunt tone.

Is this person an alpha?

He didn’t sense any pheromones, so maybe not.

Still, the strange pressure this man gave off helped Ian understand why people in the central and southern regions had so many opinions about Northerners.

Luke walked down the hall and stopped at a landing by one wall.

Following his gaze, Ian naturally turned to look—there hung a full-body portrait of the Grand Duke of Kirias.

There was no life in those red eyes.

“He looks better in person than in the painting…”

Looking further down at the red carpet in the portrait, Ian spotted a door undergoing repairs.

Luke spoke.

“There was damage from a wyvern attack not long ago, so we’re using the back entrance. Apologies.”

“No, it’s fine. We should use whichever door we can enter through.”

Luke again looked at Ian, two handspans shorter than himself.

“Is something wrong?”

Ian, thinking he had said or done something inappropriate, tensed inwardly.

But Luke only shook his head.

Like Klain, Luke was a loyal retainer of Nevan’s.

And someone like that shouldn’t have any fondness for a southerner—but strangely, Ian Pearl Ruben was different.

He wasn’t arrogant, and he didn’t seem afraid of him either.

‘Confident and composed. I like that. No wonder he’s the Empire’s future Crown Princess.’

Only Ian, caught in a misunderstanding he had no idea about, remained thoroughly confused.

---

Luke escorted Ian to the study as the last stop.

Among the shelves packed with books, Ian pulled out a volume titled .

Though he could feel Luke’s gaze, Ian ignored it and began to read.

[…Long ago, there was a man who had lost his way.

The sharp wind of Ferost sliced across his cheek, so he gathered snow and built himself a shelter.

But a storm strong enough to half-collapse the shelter swept through, and the man eventually collapsed to the ground.

At that moment, someone called out to him.

“O lost one, open your eyes.”

The man thought he had misheard and kept his eyes shut.

But the gentle, kind voice called out to him once more.

“O lost one, open your eyes.”

The man opened his eyes.

When he lifted his head, there stood a great stag.

The man asked,

“Was it you who called me?”

The stag replied,

“Yes, lost one. I am the guide of the lost. Follow me, and return to the place you came from.”

Though he could hardly believe it, the man decided to follow the stag.

As the stag walked, the snowstorm in Ferost began to ease, and eventually, the skies cleared.

In the distance, people who had been waiting for the man called out to him.

The man turned to thank the stag.

But the stag was nowhere to be seen.

All that remained was a blossom from the Winstoll tree—said to bloom only once every hundred years.

–The End of The Story of the Stag]

‘So that’s why it’s called the guide of the lost?’

Ian closed the thin book and moved to place it back on the shelf.

Just then, Luke asked,

“What did you think?”

“Pardon?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Ian looked surprised.

But Luke seemed completely serious.

“That story is something every Northerner knows. I’m curious what someone from the central or southern regions like yourself thinks of it.”

“Hmm.”

Ian mentioned the imperial hunting tournament, saying that deer really did seem to be guides for the lost.

Of course, he left out any mention of Lucian.

Then, suddenly, Luke dropped to one knee and shouted,

“I greet the one who brings spring!”