"Well, it's not like he's helping me out of pure goodwill. That guy probably approached me with his own agenda in mind."
But so what if he did?
The relationship between lord and vassal is far more barren than people think.
The feudal system began with knights offering their lives and loyalty in exchange for a lord's promise of proper treatment and advancement.
Even an ordinary lord–vassal relationship is built on securing one's own benefit—so why should a mage be any different?
To Lucian, it was nothing new.
"If it benefits both sides, there's no reason we can't ride in the same boat, whatever his ulterior motives may be. If he has his own goals, let him pursue them diligently. As long as I can profit along the way, that's more than enough."
"But what if that mage tries to betray Your Highness? What if he sacrifices his lord to achieve his own ends?"
"Is that even something that needs to be said?"
Instead of answering, Lucian gave a cold smile and lightly tapped the sword hanging at his waist.
The gesture carried more meaning than a hundred words, and Raymond let out a bitter chuckle.
"I worried over nothing. From the start, Your Highness was never the sort to let a sly, calculating man like that go unchecked."
"As long as you understand. By the way, where's Felicia? I was going to give her the nektar, but I haven't seen her anywhere."
"She's meditating at the northern wall. She said she's learned a great deal recently and needs time to sort it all out."
"I see. Going now would just be a disturbance."
Felicia was someone who had inherited every secret art from the Sword Saint.
The meditation she was undergoing now was likely one of the processes of fully embodying all of those teachings within her body.
Starting a conversation just to hand over a single vial of nektar could end up stunting years' worth of growth.
"It can't be helped. Have her take the nektar first, then come to my office with Hugo. I'll go call Colin."
"Is this a summons? Should I call the others as well?"
"No. This time, there's something I need to tell only you. Come quietly—this is a matter that requires a certain degree of secrecy."
After finishing his words, Lucian lightly pressed his index finger to his lips and left.
Raymond stared at his retreating figure in bewilderment, then soon let out a quiet chuckle.
He had been reminded of how Lucian, when they first met, had kept everything shrouded in secrecy.
But so much has changed since then.
Lucian, once no more than the Third Young Master of Valdeck, had now become a border count and a duke, solidifying his position as the dominant power of the North.
At the same time, he had recruited Ian, a genius alchemist, and taken Felicia—the next Sword Saint—as his closest aide.
On top of that, he had obtained from the Emperor not only the vast inheritance of the Northern royal family, but also the legitimate authority to remove the shackles binding the mages.
If he were to gain an army loyal to him alone on top of all this, there would truly be nothing left to stand in his way.
Perhaps this will be the last journey I take alongside my lord.
The higher one's position rises, the greater one's power becomes, the heavier one's seat grows.
From now on, every step Lucian took would set armies in motion.
Wandering freely with only a handful of close aides would soon become impossible.
And Raymond, too, would be required to prove himself not merely as a knight, but as a commander.
"Then I suppose I should carve the final exploits of the Black Lion, Raymond, into my lord's eyes."
Muttering briefly, Raymond downed the nektar in his hand in one gulp.
Immediately afterward, his eyes flew open as a refreshing sensation swept through his entire body.
"At last."
Helen, summoned to the office by Lucian, clenched the hem of her sleeve tightly, her face flushed with excitement.
After waiting and waiting, Lucian had finally decided to set out beyond the snowy plains.
For Helen, who had been growing anxious over when he would leave, it took everything she had not to cheer out loud.
Calm down. Calm down. This is where it really begins.
Placing a hand over her chest, Helen forcibly steadied her rising excitement.
In truth, it was far too early to celebrate.
If she failed to see this through properly, all the trust she had built up until now would be lost in an instant.
Since she had stepped forward with confidence, she had to find a way—no matter what—to place a proper army into Lucian's hands.
To do that, first…
Clack.
"Hm? I only called you a moment ago—are you already here?"
Startled by Lucian's voice coming from the door just as she was gathering her thoughts, Helen jumped to her feet.
When she turned her head, she saw that not only Lucian, but also her senior brother Colin, were entering the office together.
"I greet you, Your Highness."
"Good. Take a seat. As you suggested, I called Colin and the others among my close aides, but they each had matters to attend to, so it'll take them a bit to arrive."
"What? Helen called for me? What is the meaning of this?"
Colin, who had been summoned so suddenly, looked back and forth between Helen and Lucian with a bewildered expression.
It really did seem like he hadn't heard a single thing from Helen, his fellow disciple.
When Lucian tilted his head slightly as if telling her to explain, Helen smiled at her senior brother and spoke.
"Please calm down. The truth is…"
As Helen's explanation continued, Colin's eyes gradually widened.
The barbarian tribes beyond the snowy plains, people who could be used as an army right away, the true king of the North.
The moment Helen finished her explanation and closed her mouth, a furious shout burst from Colin.
"What exactly are you trying to do right now!?"
"Tribes beyond the snowy plains? Barbarians you can use as an army? I've never heard of any of this!"
"That's because I never told you."
"That's not what I mean! Why did you decide all of this in secret, on your own!? Why didn't you even give me a hint!?"
"Because Master told me not to tell you in advance."
"…What?"
"He said you're someone who's suffered for a long time and has grown fond of comfort—so you'd obviously try to dissuade your lord and suggest taking the easy path instead. He told me to leave you out of it."
At the mention of Master, Colin gaped, his mouth opening and closing uselessly.
The anger from just moments ago was nowhere to be seen, replaced by utter confusion.
Leaving her dazed senior brother behind, Helen turned her gaze back to Lucian.
"Your Highness, may I ask whether the people gathering now are the very ones I mentioned?"
"Yes. They're the elite few heading beyond the snowy plains. I was told six is the maximum number that can travel the snowfields safely, so I prepared exactly that."
"Then, excluding myself, my senior brother, and Your Highness, that makes three others. Would that be Sir Hugo, Sir Raymond, and Lady Felicia?"
"Why? Is there a problem?"
Everyone knew that the three names she mentioned were Lucian's closest confidants.
As retainers who would accompany him into a dangerous land, there were none more suitable than them.
Yet Helen, visibly tense, still spoke in a firm, resolute tone.
"Sir Hugo should be fine. However, I believe it would be better to replace Sir Raymond and Lady Felicia with others."
"You—what are you saying right now…!"
Colin, who had been half out of his mind, shouted in alarm.
Not only was she suggesting overturning a decision made by the ruler when she wasn't even a vassal yet—she was telling him to set aside his closest confidants right in front of him.
Even with several lives to spare, it would not have been enough, yet Lucian merely looked at Helen with interest.
"And the reason?"
"Sir Raymond's mana, and Lady Felicia's gender."
"I didn't expect you to take issue with gender."
"Mages and knights are held to different expectations, and so their problems differ as well."
"Very well. Start with Raymond. What do you mean by his mana being a problem?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. Sir Raymond lacks sufficient total mana."
Beyond the snowy plains lay a land of perpetual permafrost.
Frozen year-round, surviving in that cold was no simple matter.
Naturally, the warriors of the barbarian tribes had to possess enormous reserves of mana.
Without constantly reinforcing their bodies with mana, they would quickly collapse from exhaustion and die.
"The barbarian tribes' techniques are crude. As such, they don't compete over technical refinement. When they do compete, it's purely a matter of overwhelming power."
"I see. No matter how good your technique is, if your mana's lacking, you're treated as weak? So they value raw strength more than skill with the sword."
"Exactly. Sir Raymond is undoubtedly an excellent knight, and his swordsmanship has reached a considerable level, but his mana reserves are insufficient—"
"Your Highness. Sir Hugo and Sir Raymond have arrived."
As if to cut off Helen's continuing explanation, a guard's voice came from outside.
At Lucian's permission to enter, the office door opened.
Helen reflexively turned her head toward the doorway—and then her eyes went wide.
What is this? His mana has suddenly skyrocketed!
Hugo was the same as before.
An immense amount of mana—so much that even an ordinary knight might or might not accumulate it after decades of effort.
What had changed was Raymond's mana. Until just yesterday, it had been no more than moderately respectable.
She had checked several times, yet in the span of a single day it had increased to a level rivaling Hugo's, enough to make her reel in shock.
"Were you in a meeting?"
"Meeting might be too strong a word. Helen here said she wanted to change the recently decided plan. More specifically, she wanted to exclude Raymond and Felicia."
Raymond looked at Helen with an ambiguous expression.
It wasn't so much indignation as the look one gave a kid who couldn't tell when to step in and when to stay out.
Under that gaze, Helen flushed bright red but still bowed her head in apology.
"I'm sorry. I spoke out of turn."
"You argued so firmly, only to back down the moment he arrives?"
"That's not it. My suggestion to replace Sir Raymond was solely because of his mana reserves. But now that I see him…"
"He has no shortage of mana, even compared to Hugo, doesn't he?"
Seeing Lucian burst into laughter, Helen felt a chill run down her spine.
She realized that the sudden surge in Raymond's mana had to be the result of something Lucian had done.
What on earth did he do? Did he have a prepared elixir waiting? Or was it something else…?
Helen forcibly shook off the chain of speculative thoughts.
Idle conjecture would be of no help.
What was certain was this: even under circumstances where contact with the outside world was so difficult, Lucian still had the leeway to obtain elixirs and give them to his retainers.
That alone made it hard for Helen to truly gauge the extent of Lucian's capabilities.
"Well, I'm glad you've changed your mind. Then explain why Felicia should be excluded next."
At Lucian's words, spoken with a faint smile, Helen swallowed hard and bowed her head.
"Sir Felicia is undoubtedly a knight for whom it is difficult to find an equal. However, as I said earlier, her gender is the problem. The barbarian tribes will seize on the mere fact that Sir Felicia is a woman and refuse to acknowledge her at every turn."
"Do they treat women that harshly? In my experience, people who live in harsh lands tend to value women's strength as well, so women often have strong voices."
"If anything, it's the opposite. Because the land is so dangerous, they can't even conceive of women taking on work that puts their lives on the line. To them, women may be prophets, advisors, or shamans—but they are not beings that can become warriors."
It was a land where the frozen corpses of those who had died in blizzards formed hills.
Naturally, they could not help but be sensitive about population, and women who bore children were all the more precious.
Even if men died in droves, as long as the survivors took multiple wives, their numbers could somehow be replenished.
In other words, gender roles there were divided even more rigidly than in places where female knights were treated as fairy-tale figures.
"Since I'm a mage, they won't find me strange. But if a woman in a warrior's body claims to be a fighter, it will look like a direct rejection of their common sense and traditions."
"Then we'll just change their common sense altogether. If it gets smashed head-on, they'll have no choice but to rethink it."
"These are fixed notions that have lasted for over a thousand years. Winning a few times won't even come close to being enough. It would take a shock on the scale of heaven and earth being overturned. Sir Aizen, perhaps—but with Sir Felicia's current level…"
"Your Highness. Lady Felicia has arrived."
Once again, as if perfectly timed, a guard's voice rang out.
At Lucian's permission, the door opened quietly.
Helen steeled herself, determined not to back down this time, and turned her head.
And in that moment, she was left speechless.
…What is this?
Helen knew Felicia was strong.
Excluding Sword Saint Aizen, Felicia was the strongest knight Helen had ever seen.
But the Felicia reflected in Helen's eyes now was different from before.
If Felicia's strength before had been something that could still be measured within human bounds, her current self was no longer so easily fathomed.
It was difficult to even guess where the bottom of her power lay.
Felicia entered, bowed deeply toward Lucian, then turned her cold gaze on Helen and spoke.
"Is my strength truly that lacking?"
At that ice-cold voice, Helen could not utter a single word and could only lower her head in silence.
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