Chapter 22.1

Even the long, bitter winter of the North must come to an end eventually.

Although the nights and early mornings still brought bone-chilling cold, the midday sun now shone warmly enough for Northerners to shed their fur coats, if only briefly.

Spring had begun in the North.

“…Where am I?”

The scent of early spring and the warmth of sunlight seeped through the window bars.

The softness of the bed and the comfort of the blanket—sensations she hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity—surrounded her.

At the same time, a sense of uncleanliness, born of not having washed in days, made her furrow her brow.

This was how Arina Rune Renslet awakened.

“…!”

Sitting up, she looked around.

The room was all too familiar—it was her own, a space she had desperately longed for during her time in the Demonic Abyss.

Is this a dream?

Unconsciously, she pinched her cheek.

Now that I think about it… The last thing I remember is…

Her thoughts drifted to the moments before she lost consciousness.

“The North! I hate this damned North with all my being!”

Her expression hardened as she recalled Doyle’s betrayal.

“Then, how about making me your official consort?”

“Because you’re so beautiful?”

Her hardened expression softened, and her face flushed red as her mind replayed the conversation with Arad.

“You’re awake?”

A warm voice called out from the corner of the room.

“…”

Arina turned toward the sound and pouted, clearly displeased.

“Must you always hide your presence like that?”

“Hohohoho! It’s a habit, my lady.”

A plump, wrinkled woman in a simple tunic, who might have been mistaken for a village elder by anyone else, smiled gently as she approached.

“Old hag…”

“Yes, yes, my dear lady.”

“This time… it was so hard.”

Like a child seeking comfort, Arina buried her face in the embrace of Isabelle, the Witch of Spring.

Had any of Arina’s knights or ministers, who held her in high regard, seen this, they might have fainted in shock.

“I know. You’ve been through so much.”

Arina’s biological mother, the Grand Duchess of Renslet, had passed away when Arina was just a toddler. As a result, she had been raised by the witch Isabelle.

No matter how much her father, Baikal Rune Renslet, cherished her, his duties as grand duke and the constant threat of external invasions left him little time to care for his daughter.

To Arina, the Witch of Spring was a nanny, teacher, and head maid all rolled into one.

“Are you feeling alright?”

Isabelle scrutinized Arina carefully as she asked the question. No matter how closely she observed, only Arina herself could truly know her own body.

“I feel wonderful. Refreshed. More than anything, I’d like to bathe.”

“I’ve already instructed the maids to prepare warm bathwater.”

“And there’s someone I must meet and thank.”

“You mean Arad Jin?”

“Yes. I owe him—and the entire North owes him—a great debt.”

Arina’s words were accompanied by an effort to ignore the memory of her last conversation with Arad before she lost consciousness.

“Arad Jin is doing well here at the High Tower. He’s especially popular among the witches.”

“The witches?”

“Yes. After all, he’s the famous creator of Arad Salt.”

“He’s the North’s benefactor. I hope they aren’t bothering him too much.”

“Of course not. I’ve made sure to give them a stern warning.”

“Do witches even listen to you?”

“Not really, no.”

“But is it alright? Arad is a magician as well. If he gets too involved with the witches and stirs up their restrictions, it could cause trouble.”

“They’re all adults. They’ll handle it sensibly.”

“…”

“If you’re so concerned, you should bathe, eat, and then meet with him.”

Isabelle, after speaking, took a deep breath before continuing in a more serious tone.

“By the way, Your Grace.”

“Hmm?”

“Your injury has left your lower dantian empty. While you’ve miraculously survived and even healed your core, you’ll need to relearn the sword from scratch.”

“…I know.”

Even as she awoke feeling refreshed, Arina couldn’t ignore the emptiness she felt inside.

Though it saddened her to lose the core she had cultivated all her life, she did not despair.

She was still young, and her mind and body vividly remembered the sword. Recovering her former skills would be no great challenge, she thought.

“Alternatively, there is another option.”

Isabelle suddenly spoke in a grave tone, offering a suggestion.

“Another option?”

“You could learn magic instead of the sword.”

“…?”

At Isabelle’s unexpected proposal, Arina’s eyebrows shot up.

“Your Grace, consider learning magic. There are even two circles embedded in your heart.”

This sudden suggestion from the Witch of Spring left Arina speechless.

“In my heart… there are circles?”

She hastily focused her senses on her heart.

“It seems that when your dantian was destroyed, parts of your core transferred to your heart.”

Arina felt the two unfamiliar energies within her heart and asked for clarification.

“You’re telling me to learn magic?”

Isabelle nodded slowly.

“Of course, the decision is entirely yours.”

“To learn both magic and the sword…”

“No matter how exceptional you are, having achieved the rank of Swordmaster at such a young age, mastering both is impossible. Your body wouldn’t withstand it.”

Magic… Arina’s thoughts drifted back to her experiences in the Demonic Abyss.

If she had known magic instead of the sword, she might have avoided much of the suffering she endured.

The North has plenty of knights, but its magical strength is woefully lacking.

This moment felt almost like a sign, a turning point in her life.

Arina’s lips parted slightly, ready to speak.

But then,

“Arina, my beloved daughter, the pride of Renslet. You are a genius born once in a millennium.”

A voice echoed in her mind.

“You have the potential to reach the pinnacle of the sword, to become the legendary Grand Swordmaster beyond even the Swordmaster.”

The voice was one she dearly loved but could no longer hear.

“I want to see you achieve that height.”

The words her father spoke in life now resonated as his final legacy to her.

“…”

After a long silence, Arina shook her head firmly.

Arina touched her calloused, roughened hands before finally speaking with resolve.

“No. I will continue walking the path of the sword.”