Lia spent the rest of her first day inside the Duchess's study, analyzing the urgent problems and immediate needs of the territory.
—THE NEXT DAY—
News of the sudden resignation of the three famous Javier brothers boomed across the Capital. Some nobles were shocked, some were curious, and some were thrilled at the chance to take their places. However, the news did not just reach the Capital—it rippled across the entire Empire.
「WESTERN REGION, WYKENIGHT DUKEDOM」
Alistair Wykenight, the eldest son, had taken over the dukedom early—a testament to his immense influence and relentless contributions to the Western Fortress.
While the North was a fortress city battling monsters, the West was locked in a generations-long war against a neighboring kingdom.
Duke Alistair spent almost all of his time at the front. In fact, he had returned to the West just three days after his marriage, leaving his wife, Eliana, alone in the Capital. He had not been back since, serving as the supreme commander of the troops.
Which meant… he had no idea what had transpired. Yet.
Including Eliana's exile to the North.
❈.❈.❈
Currently, inside the dining hall of Wykenight's dazzling castle, the former Duke and Duchess were enjoying a peaceful breakfast with Alistair and his younger brother.
The peace shattered when Alistair's right-hand man, Jill, burst into the room, looking pale.
"What's with the dramatic entrance, Jill?" asked Deitre, Alistair's younger brother. He was around Eliana's age.
"Forgive me… phew," Jill gasped, barely catching his breath.
"I guess your errands in the capital are finished, now that you're back?" Lord Dante asked, the former Duke of the Wykenight Dukedom.
"No! Not at all! I came back because the capital is in chaos right now! And I have a letter sent by His Majesty yesterday concerning Her Grace," Jill exclaimed.
"What do you mean? Despite our marriage, I allowed Lady Eliana to stay at the palace instead of the Wykenight Manor in the capital," Alistair said, his face maintaining its usual neutral mask.
"Since you told me I was free to read the Emperor's letter if it concerned the Duchess of Wykenight, I read it last night. And…" Jill trailed off.
"Yes. So?" Alistair's tone was flat.
"So cold, brother," Deitre chimed in.
"Well, Her Grace was exiled to the North!" Jill's words landed like a poorly timed joke.
"What kind of jest is that?" Alistair finally put down his utensils.
"This is no jest, Your Grace! No one sent a notice or letter to the Wykenight Estate beforehand! Her Grace arrived there yesterday, from what was stated in the letter, and the decision was made by the Javiers over a vote," Jill babbled. "It's said the acting commander there begged the Emperor to send one of the blood heirs to save the dying North."
"Hmm. The reason the Emperor wanted Alistair to marry Lady Eliana in the first place was to dump the North on us, so the Javiers could finally be free of that cursed land," mused Lord Dante.
"I sent a request for reinforcements to His Majesty two weeks ago," Alistair said, a slight edge in his voice. "He must understand the situation here is not in good shape, either. However, do the Emperor and the Javiers think so little of me as their little princess's husband as to keep me in the dark until her departure?" His face turned colder, making Jill sweat.
"Not only that, if Lady Eliana was the one sent there, this could mean one thing: the vacant position of Duchess or Duke…" Lord Dante said, looking serious.
"Does this mean Lady Eliana takes over the Dukedom of Javier and becomes the Duchess? How could this be? She was already a Duchess of Wykenight!" Deitre chimed in.
"Exactly. How dare they leave me out of this decision-making if I am the husband of Lady Eliana?" Alistair said in his cold, chilling tone.
"To begin with, Lady Eliana should have been left out of the selection, since she is married, right?" Lady Alice said, her voice laced with worry.
"How heartless could her brothers be, to send that child to that land?" Lady Alice added.
"That's the cause of the chaos!" Jill's face turned a shade paler. "Those three are said to have submitted their resignation letters and are preparing to leave for the North! This was so sudden even the Emperor was taken aback. What's even odder, they're selling off half of their assets in the capital."
"What on earth are those runaway Javiers thinking?" Deitre wondered aloud.
"Who knows? According to a servant from our manor who works in Her Grace's wing… Lord Rhys was selling everything Her Grace left behind. The Emperor was apparently bawling about it," Jill answered, troubled himself.
"Perhaps those always self-righteous men decided to rebel," Deitre said.
"What's oddest of all… the three brothers were the ones who first voted to send the Duchess of Wykenight," Jill added. "The Emperor himself was said to be against it, but Lord Marcus insisted, stating that maybe it was the only way to make her grow."
"And now they're running after her?" Deitre asked.
"But these sudden changes… this is not good for the entire Empire," Lord Dante said.
"What do you mean, dear?" Alice asked.
"Those three men were not just random nobles in the Empire. They hold up the backbone of it."
Lord Dante's calculating gaze sharpened into one of pure, cold alarm. He set his own utensils down with a precise click.
"This isn't just a rebellion. It's a collapse of our operational support. Think. Lord Marcus is the Head of the Imperial Strategists. Every major troop movement, every supply line calculation for the entire Empire—including our reinforcements—crosses his desk. His resignation doesn't just leave a vacancy. It leaves a strategic blind spot that will take months to fill," Lord Dante explained.
Lady Alice gasped softly, the political implications finally piercing her maternal concern.
Deitre's smirk vanished. "And Captain Kaelen… wasn't His Majesty planning to send the First Knight Platoon here next month? As our elite reinforcements?"
Jill nodded grimly. "The order was being drafted, my lord. With Captain Kaelen's resignation, his entire unit is being restructured. Those reinforcements are now… indefinitely delayed."
"Then there's the money," Lord Dante said, his voice dropping to a grave rumble. He looked directly at his eldest son. "Lord Rhys isn't just a minister. He is the Minister of the Imperial Treasury. He doesn't just handle funds; he authorizes them. The quarterly allocation for the Western Army's payroll, siege weapon repairs, and winter provisions is due to be ratified… by him… in nine days."
The full, devastating picture clicked into place for Alistair, turning his initial irritation into a cold knot of tactical dread.
"They haven't just abandoned their positions," Alistair stated, the words tasting like ash. "In their single-minded rush to their deaths, they have actively crippled the West. No strategy, no elite troops, and now, likely, no funding. The bureaucratic delay alone will cost us lives."
The room fell into a stunned silence, heavier than before. This wasn't a dramatic play. It was a potential death sentence for their own front.
"The Emperor…" Alistair began, his mind racing. "He really is a fool when it comes to those cowardly Javiers."
"Alistair! That's treason," Lady Alice chided.
"That's not what's important here, Mother. We are on the brink of an all-out war, and those fools run off as if they don't hold any important role in this Empire. They couldn't even respect me as their sister's husband." Alistair was visibly angered.
His earlier order felt pathetic. "Forget the formal inquiry, Jill," he amended, his command voice taking over. "Draft four letters. One to the Emperor: a stark reminder of our pending reinforcement and funding requests, and a… diplomatic inquiry about contingency plans following the 'unexpected vacancies' in his government."
"The second?" Jill asked, already mentally taking notes.
"To our stewards. Begin an immediate audit of our own reserves. Assume the imperial funding will be late or reduced. Prepare rationing protocols."
"And the third?" Deitre asked, uncharacteristically quiet.
Alistair's jaw tightened. He looked toward the north, as if he could see through the castle walls and across the frozen continent.
"The third is to the Wykenight agent stationed at the Capital's teleport temple. Find out exactly when the Javier brothers leave, what they took with them, and their estimated time of arrival at the Northern Fortress. I don't care what they think they're doing. I need to know their movements and their logistical footprint."
"The fourth one?" Jill prompted.
"To my wife. Ask her why she did not bother to include me in her reckless adventure."
The truth Alistair feared was that if the North was in dire need of reinforcement, he could not ignore it if Eliana was there. After all, Eliana was not just a Javier anymore—she was Duchess Eliana Wykenight.
「NORTH REGION—JAVIER DUKEDOM」
"Your Grace!" Cris chimed as soon as he entered the study. "We distributed the blankets early this morning, and Ma'am Merlin is already working with the other servants to make clothes."
"Good," was Lia's only response, her attention fixed on the wide map of the North laid out on the large table.
"Your Grace, I brought you some tea and bread," Cris said.
"Just leave the tea. Give the bread to someone else."
"No can do!" Cris insisted, setting the tray he was carrying on a side table. "Your Grace, you haven't eaten anything since yesterday besides some vegetable soup. I understand you're aware of the North's situation, and I'm grateful for your consideration… but you have to eat, too."
"Hmm. Are you afraid I might run off back to the Capital?" Lia finally looked up. He averted his eyes, which meant she'd hit the nail on the head. "Don't worry. I have no plans to return to the Capital."
"But… aren't you married, Your Grace?" Cris asked.
"Huh?" Lia replied, genuinely confused.
"I've been meaning to ask you, Your Grace, but… aren't you Duchess Eliana Wykenight?"
Lia froze, stunned by the information she had completely forgotten.
[ADMIN A: HAHAHA! YOU FORGOT, DIDN'T YOU?! THAT'S WHY YOU KEEP INTRODUCING YOURSELF AS 'ELIANA JAVIER'—YOU FORGOT YOU'RE MARRIED!]
Oh… fuck. That's right. I am married.
But… what did his face look like again?
[ADMIN A: I KNEW IT! HAHAHAHA! I HAD MY DOUBTS YOU COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT HIM. YOU NEVER THOUGHT OF HIM EVEN ONCE IN YOUR SECOND LIFE. HAHAHA! WEREN'T YOU AGAINST MARRIAGE IN YOUR SECOND LIFE? HAHAHAHAHA THIS IS TOO FUNNY!]
Cris didn't understand the shocked look on Eliana's face, but he had a feeling he'd just delivered some very bad news. She looked like someone who had just remembered something critically important that she'd forgotten.
He just scratched his head awkwardly and waited for Eliana to recover.
After standing frozen like a statue for a moment, she finally snapped back to reality.
"Your Grace, what are you doing with the map?" Cris finally asked, stepping closer to stand beside her.
"See this big map, Cris? This is the North. Those marks with an 'X' show the lands that are habitable yet lack resources," Lia explained, her finger tracing the details.
"No way… this massive territory? Only this quarter—this fortress city—is where we are?" Cris's voice was hushed with disbelief. "I never bothered to study the full map of the North, but seeing it now… this is a losing game."
"Exactly."
"Then what's with this pinned mark, Your Grace?" Cris pointed to a spot just outside the fortress walls.
"I'm planning to raid that."
"Huh?" Cris blinked.
"Exactly what I said."
"B-but… Your Grace, you?"
"Anyway, I want to inspect the fortress walls from the outside," Lia declared, already turning away from the table.
"Absolutely not! It's too dangerous! Who knows what kind of monsters could attack?" Cris protested, his voice rising in alarm.
"Don't be a baby. Hand me my coat from over there," Lia said, already moving toward the door of the study.
"Y-Your Grace!" Cris called out, scrambling to grab the white winter coat—one of the few belongings from her old life she had deemed practical enough to keep.
He caught up to her, watching her determined stride. She was wearing the same outfit as yesterday—the bizarre pants, boots, and black shirt. It seemed they'd all have to get used to it. This was clearly going to be Duchess Eliana's daily uniform.
❈.❈.❈
Lia stepped out onto the battlements, the wind biting through her coat immediately. The world was a blur of white and grey—the harsher snowfall had begun. She squinted, her black-ops instincts cataloguing the damage. The stone walkway was uneven, cracked from freeze and impact. A section of the parapet had crumbled entirely, leaving a gaping vulnerability.
As Lia walked the line, only two soldiers were visible at their posts inside the stone lookouts. One, an older man with a scarred face, was diligently scanning the white-out landscape, his knuckles white where he gripped his pike. The other…
The other was a younger man, his helmet tipped forward, his body slack in a wooden chair. A soft, rhythmic snore competed with the wind.
Look at this fool. Typical slacker.
The older guard had spotted her and stiffened, his eyes wide, but she held up a single finger to her lips.
Her expression was not one of anger, but of chilling, analytical disappointment.
She positioned herself. Then, with a swift, precise motion, she kicked the back leg of the rickety wooden chair.
THUNK-SCRAAPE!
The chair jerked forward a solid six inches on the stone. The soldier jolted awake with a garbled yell, arms flailing, his helmet clattering to the ground. He scrambled to his feet, wild-eyed, fumbling for the sword he'd leaned against the wall.
"Wha—! Monster! Attack—!"
His panicked shout died in his throat as his gaze landed on her. Not on the fine silks of a duchess, but on the stark black tactical gear, the cold, assessing blue eyes, and the expression that said she'd seen this exact scenario a hundred times before and was profoundly unimpressed.
"Sleep well?" Lia asked, her voice flat, carrying perfectly over the wind.
The soldier stammered, his face flushing a deep red that had nothing to do with the cold. "Y-Your Grace! I—I was just resting my eyes! The cold, it—it makes you drowsy, and—"
She tucked her hands into her pockets and tilted her head up, fixing him with a chilling, mob-boss stare.
"Next time you feel cold, it will be your body. And you won't just feel drowsy—you'll sleep forever," she said, her tone low and menacing.
"Eeek! Forgive me, Your Grace!" Tomas squeaked, bowing repeatedly.
Cris, standing behind her, looked absolutely terrified. What the…? Her Grace sounds like a thug.
—OUTSIDE THE FORTRESS—
Eliana stood a great distance from the fortress wall, casually crossing her arms as she scanned the entire front of the structure.
Tomas and two other soldiers stood with her, biting their nails in anxious anticipation of a possible monster attack.
"Y-Your G-Grace… we should head back…" Cris stammered, clinging to the hem of her coat and violently turning his head as if a monster might leap out and devour them at any moment.
Lia completely ignored him, as if she couldn't hear him.
Hmm. The repair work is too shoddy. This needs major structural reinforcement. I'll have to review this later.
[ADMIN A: WORRY NOT! I WILL SAVE A STRUCTURAL SCAN FOR YOU TO STUDY LATER!]
[INITIATING STRUCTURAL SURVEY…]
A green, holographic visor—like a pair of sleek sunglasses—materialized over her eyes. It began scanning the wall, pinning red markers over areas that needed immediate repair or were on the verge of collapse.
"WHOA! A-are y-you a mage, Your Grace?" Cris asked, noticing the flickering hologram while shaking violently.
"Shut up for a second," Lia said, absorbed in her own world.
Then, a rustle came from a nearby thicket of bushes. Cris jumped, latching onto Eliana's arm. "AHHH! MONSTER! YOUR GRACE! WAAAAH!"
He was now clinging to her, his arms wrapped around her neck, while she held him up like a princess.
Tomas and the other two soldiers momentarily forgot about the rustling sound and stared in utter shock at Cris's disrespect—and at Eliana's perfectly straight face. They couldn't tell if she was furious or completely unfazed.
"Lord Cris, how can you be so shameless?" Tomas asked with a disbelieving expression.
Cris couldn't reply as he trembled in fear in Lia's arms.
[ADMIN A: SERIOUSLY! WHAT'S WRONG WITH THAT GUY? HAHAHAHAHA! I CAN'T BELIEVE HE'S THE SAME PERSON WHO PROTECTED THE FRONT LINE WITH YOU!]
SHUT UP.
Eliana sighed and turned toward the soldiers, still carrying Cris. "Go check what's behind the bushes."
Cris's face looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head. "ARE YOU CRAZY, YOUR GRACE?! LET'S JUST GO BAAAACK!!! AAAAAAHH!"
"Shut up, or I'll put you down," Eliana warned.
"A-alright…" he mumbled, going quiet and staying comfortably in Lia's arms like a shameless child.
[ADMIN A: HAHAHAHAHAH! WHAT THE HELL?! THANK GOD HE'S A SKINNY GUY. IS HE LIGHTER THAN HE LOOKS?]
Ironically, YES.
[ADMIN A: WELL, YOUR PHYSICAL PARAMETERS MIGHT HAVE INCREASED SLIGHTLY WHEN THE SYSTEM INTEGRATED. YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL.]
You're talking too much. Do you sense any hostility?
[ADMIN A: NO, I DON'T. BUT I DETECT A FAINT LIFE SIGN.]
Tomas and the other two soldiers approached the bushes carefully. When they peered over, they found a large silver wolf, drenched in blood and unconscious.
"YOUR GRACE! IT'S A WOLF! AND… A BIG ONE!" Tomas called out.
A wolf?
[ADMIN A: OH MY! MIGHT BE SILVER WOLVES! THEY ARE ON THE BRINK OF EXTINCTION DUE TO THE MONSTER INFESTATION. GO CHECK IT OUT!]
Eliana unceremoniously dropped Cris and walked over to Tomas.
"Your Grace! Don't leave me!" he cried, still trailing behind her.
It was indeed a wolf, and it was fading fast.
By the looks of it, it looked 12 feet tall.
Is this really a wolf and not a mutated monster?
[SYSTEM: A NEW QUEST!]
[QUEST: SAVE THE WOLF]
[REWARD: 150,000 EXP]
[FAILURE: LOSING A POTENTIAL ALLY.]
"Carry it inside the fortress," Lia ordered.
"Are you sure, Your Grace?" Tomas asked cautiously. "It could be infected by a monster. And it's so big!"
"Carry it. We're done here." Lia then turned and started walking back toward the gate, with Cris following close behind, finally relieved they were heading back to safety.
The two soldiers wrapped the injured wolf in a coat, and together they carried it back inside the fortress.
「THE NEXT DAY – AT THE CENTRAL TOWN」
People inside their homes rushed outside, and others leaned out of their windows to peek at the commotion.
A procession of five heavy wagons had rumbled into the town square, led by three gentlemen on horseback.
"Who are they?"
"What is all this?"
"Perhaps… rations from the Emperor?"
"Don't be silly. The imperial rations were delivered two weeks ago."
Commander Gareth, stepping out from the rundown Mercenary Guild, positioned himself in front of the three men. His hand rested casually near the hilt of his sword.
"STATE YOUR NAMES. WE DID NOT RECEIVE ANY NOTICE OF OUTSIDERS ENTERING THE CITY," Commander Gareth called out, his voice carrying over the murmuring crowd.
"Outsiders? How hurtful," said the man in the middle—Marcus. His tone was smooth, almost amused. "You should state your name first before demanding ours."
Commander Gareth's eyebrows furrowed at the man's audacity. "I am Commander Gareth Marsel."
"Very well. So, you are the man who begged the Emperor to send one of us here," Marcus said, and Commander Gareth's eyes widened in realization. "Well, I'm not sure if this is good news or bad news."
Marcus smiled, a thin, calculating expression.
"Congratulations—you got one, plus three."
— To Be Continued… —