Chapter 39.2

“Arad… Arad…”

Arina silently repeated the name of the man who had saved both herself and the North, granting them the peace they now enjoyed.

Perhaps he truly was an apostle sent by the revered ancestors of Renslet.

“Why am I thinking about this? My focus must be slipping.”

Breaking out of her thoughts of Arad, Arina wiped her sweat with one of the linen towels provided in the training grounds and lowered her sword.

“…”

She closed her eyes, placing both hands over her lower abdomen where her core resided.

Not long ago, that space had been empty, but now she could feel a newly formed mana core.

Though it was small, no bigger than a grain of millet, and its roots were thin and fragile, its presence brought her immense satisfaction.

Compared to her previous core, this one was like a child taking its first steps—underdeveloped and growing slowly.

Still, she couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across her face.

The aura, shape, and clarity of this mana core were on an entirely different level from her previous one.

“Arad.”

She realized this, too, was thanks to him.

Who was he, really? What drove him to help her and the North so devotedly?

With his talents and skills, he could easily obtain a noble title equivalent to a court count in the Empire.

“Hmm…”

She shuddered at the thought of a North without Arad, as though recalling a terrible nightmare.

“Whew!”

To shake off her distracting thoughts, Arina raised her sword again and focused her mana into the blade.

Ssshhhrrr.

A white aura began to envelop the blade.

“My mana’s color changed after my core was rebuilt.”

Arina gazed absently at the snowy-white aura, its hue reminiscent of Mary’s hair.

Her old mana and aura had been sapphire blue, but now they were as pure and bright as freshly fallen snow.

“Miss, are you finished with your training?”

Isabelle’s voice broke through Arina’s focus.

“Yes, ma’am. I think I’ll stop here for today,” Arina said, hastily withdrawing her mana.

The change in the Grand Duchess’s mana and aura colors was a closely guarded secret, known only to a select few in the High Tower.

There was no reason to reveal it unnecessarily.

“I’ll instruct the maids to prepare bathwater,” Isabelle said.

“Please do. And… has it ended?”

Arina asked cautiously, glancing at Isabelle’s robes.

This time, Isabelle had taken care to keep her clothes pristine, but the faint scent of blood still lingered.

“Yes. They revealed nothing beyond what we learned in the initial interrogation.”

“Is that so?”

Naturally, Arina herself had been present during the first interrogation of the traitors.

She had listened to their raw, unfiltered resentment—words from those who had lost everything.

“If this was the plan, why didn’t you just rule alone?!”

“You’ve sent enforcers time and again to strip us of our dignity as lords!”

“How can we feed, clothe, and train our soldiers on a 20% estate tax?! And what about me? My family?!”

“It wasn’t enough that you interfered with taxes; you meddled with tolls too! You’ve gone too far!”

“Tell me, Grand Duchess, are we nobles? Are we blue blood at all?!”

“I was afraid… afraid that my children, my grandchildren, studying in the Empire, would endure the same humiliations I did!”

“Grand Duchess of the North! I… we… we resent you deeply!”

Arina understood their grievances, but she could never respect them.

After that first day, she refrained from participating in the interrogations.

Instead, she took to the training grounds, wielding her sword to calm her turbulent emotions.

“…”

“…”

The memory cast a heavy silence over Arina and Isabelle.

“Ah, that reminds me! The preliminary draft for the doctrines of the Church of Renslet has been completed,” Isabelle said, breaking the somber mood and steering the conversation in a new direction.

“Oh, already? Let me see it.”

Thankfully, Arina showed interest, prompting Isabelle to gesture to one of the maids.

A waiting maid quietly approached and handed over the neatly compiled manuscript.

“To think, after all the efforts to establish a unified religion in the North, it came about so easily… it feels almost anticlimactic,” Arina said with a faint, wistful smile as she accepted the book.

“It’s all thanks to you, my lady, and the legacy of the ancestors of Renslet,” Isabelle replied.

“Me? No… this is also because of Arad… all thanks to him.”

“Even if Sir Arad played a major role, it wouldn’t have been possible without the groundwork we’ve laid. You should take pride in that, my lady.”

“Do you think so?”

“Absolutely.”

“I suppose you’re right. If nothing else, the chants of Renslet! Rune Renslet! could count as preparation.”

Though she spoke with a hint of self-deprecation, Arina’s expression softened.

She didn’t mind Isabelle’s words—they were oddly comforting.

In truth, the North’s leadership had, for generations, grasped the secret of religions and divine power to some degree.

Efforts to establish a unified religion had been ongoing since the time of Arina’s grandfather.

But it never worked.

Telling the defiant Northerners, armed with their ancestral pride, to abandon their household gods was akin to saying, “Do you think you’re special?”

That all changed with the advent of Mary’s Blessing, bolstered by Arad’s PR—or viral marketing, whatever it was called.

As she walked to the bath, Arina read the revised doctrines of the Church of Renslet.

Though such behavior was technically improper for a ruler, she paid it no mind. Balancing her dual roles and rigorous training left her constantly short on time.

“What’s this? Three strange principles at the very front?”

Pausing, she pointed to the seemingly out-of-place doctrines.

“Sir Arad included those,” Isabelle explained.

“Arad did?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm… I see.”

Though they seemed odd, Arina trusted that Arad had his reasons.

“What’s Arad doing now?”

“Since returning from the trade route, he’s been in the greenhouse farm all day.”

“Alright.”

After her bath, Arina decided to visit him immediately.

Of course, she wouldn’t go as herself, but as Mary.

These days, she found it more comfortable and enjoyable to approach Arad in her alternate identity.

Being Mary allowed her to see more of his true thoughts and actions up close.

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