Chapter 327: And It Was Winter (3)

“Haa?!”

Navakin, who had been lying in a bed, jolted upright. He had sweated so much that he was drenched from head to toe.

“W-where am I?”

“Ah, please don’t worry. You’re in the treatment room.”

“What happened to me?”

“You collapsed on the training grounds. If you’d been found any later, we might have had to amputate your limbs.”

At the doctor’s words, Navakin quickly checked his body. It ached and tingled, but everything was still there.

“W-who brought me here?”

“A knight on patrol found you. He asked us to find out what happened. Why did you pass out?”

A patrolling knight?

Navakin had assumed Keter brought him here.

“I must’ve been... tired. I think I saw something strange and just...”

“Something strange? What did you see?”

“There was a snowman on the training field, and inside it was Lord Keter. I was so shocked I must’ve fainted.”

“Hm. You must be very fatigued. Lord Keter coming out of a snowman, you say.”

The doctor scribbled something down, then stood up.

“I’ll prepare an energy booster and a sedative. Please rest and don’t go anywhere in the meantime.”

“Yes, sir.”

After the doctor left, Navakin pressed a hand to his forehead.

“What a horrible nightmare.”

He had been badmouthing Keter, and then Keter had come out of the snowman.

“Heh... hehehe.” Navakin suddenly started laughing.

Even to him, it sounded ridiculous.

“The snowman being Lord Keter... As if that makes any sense. Who but a lunatic would hide inside a snowman? I must’ve been really exhausted lately.”

Creeeak.

“Did you forget something? Why are you back so fa...?”

The one who entered the treatment room wasn’t the doctor—it was Keter, and he had a dagger in his left hand.

“K-Ke... Ke...”

“Are you laughing at me right now?”

“N-no, my lord! Not at all! I just... What brings you here? You’re not hurt, are you, Lord Keter?! Should I give up the bed?!”

Panicking, Navakin blurted out nonsense. Keter dragged over a chair and sat beside him and held the dagger out toward Navakin.

“Navakin. There are three things a man should be careful about in life. People call them the ‘three tips.’”

Gulp.

Navakin could read the atmosphere. Keter had come for him, which meant what he’d seen wasn’t a hallucination. Keter really had been inside the snowman. And Navakin had cursed him, even punched him.

The dagger’s blade gleamed. Navakin felt sure he knew at least one of the “three tips.”

He’s going to say that I should be careful of the dagger’s tip...

Thud thud thud!

His heart pounded in his chest. He hadn’t been stabbed yet—but surely he would be.

“They are the tip of the finger, the tip of the dick, and most of all, the tip of your tongue. Even when you think no one’s around, don’t let your tongue run wild.”

Stab!

“Urgh!”

The dagger vanished from in front of his eyes. Navakin clutched his chest and collapsed. Keter looked down at him like he was pathetic.

“What are you doing? Since when was this apple your heart?”

“Huh?”

Keter hadn’t stabbed Navakin; he had stabbed an apple.

“You got lucky. That whole scene was pretty funny. I haven’t laughed like that in a while.”

“Oh...”

Keter took a big bite out of the apple skewered on the dagger. Navakin had the strong feeling that if Keter had been in a bad mood, it would’ve been him on that dagger.

“So, why were you looking for me?”

“Ah, yes. That’s... Mr. Kai passed along a strange message. He said, ‘Two days, cherry.’ He said you’d understand...”

“Hm. Finally.”

It was a code from Kai to Keter. Cherry referred to a southern region shaped like a cherry, and two days meant exactly that—the battle to decide their fates would be two days later. Henya would lure Eslow out, and Keter would kill him.

Navakin, who didn’t know any of this, just blinked.

“Good work. Your punch was pretty solid, by the way.”

After patting the dazed Navakin on the shoulder, Keter left Sefira to prepare for his final battle with Eslow.

* * *

Cherry was somewhat special. Cherry was a circular plain situated between two mountains. It resembled the shape of a cherry from above, which was how it got its name. There were no monsters nearby, with a river running close by, making it a nice spot for an outing. But now, a murderous tension filled the air.

It wasn’t just the cold; it was because of the group of people gathered here. There were roughly forty of them, dressed in all kinds of attire. Twenty were high-ranking mages from the Green Tower, who specialized in large-scale magic. Seven were knights from Baen, wearing their mountable armor. The rest wore personal gear and carried their own weapons.

They all shared one thing in common: every one of them was at least Master-level, and more than half were Grandmaster-level. It was an overwhelming force, yet Henya, who was leading them, paced restlessly, unable to hide her unease.

Seeing this, the representative of the Green Tower mages stepped forward.

“You need not worry, my lady. This place is rich in mana, which is perfect for group foundation magic. An eight-circle freezing-type spell is already prepared. It has enough power to freeze an entire city.”

A freezing spell capable of freezing a whole city would be cast on a single person. The sheer scale was terrifying, yet Henya’s expression did not brighten.

Then the knights of Baen stepped up. They were far larger than the Titans seen in Sefira before, and they were covered in numerous additional mechanical parts.

“Magic may betray you at times, but technology never does, my lady. Baen’s latest Titans can even block divine power. The level-six Titans we pilot have already defended against offensive Authorities with over seventy percent effectiveness.”

“You expect me to believe lumps of iron can block divine power? Hard to believe. How about taking our magic as a test?” the mage asked.

“It would be a waste of time. It’ll be blocked anyway.”

The Baen knights and Green Tower mages engaged in subtle rivalry. Even knowing their opponent was Lord Eslow, they were relaxed. That was how confident they were in their magic and technology. Henya also knew that their claims weren’t bluffs, and yet...

It’s not enough. Father is a far greater monster than this.

Near the end of the Sword of the South Tournament, Ailos had unleashed a horde of Undeads. Even then, Ailos’ might have been overwhelming. But Eslow had fought four fallen angels, top-tier Undead Ailos created by corrupting elves, as if he were merely playing.

Back then, Father didn’t even use ten percent of his true power.

Henya had never seen Eslow fight seriously, but she didn’t need to. She could feel it just from watching him stand still. This was something she could sense because she was his daughter.

Keter... you know this too, don’t you? You called me because, even if you know this as well, you believe we have a chance, right?

Keter made the impossible possible. His actions seemed reckless, but it wasn’t groundless. Henya trusted Keter, but not completely. That was why she had prepared this much force. It was a trap, but she truly intended to kill Eslow, her own father.

To Eslow, we are nothing but tools for his ambitions.

Originally, as she had told Keter, Henya had planned to have Eslow acknowledge Wid. She meant to make their relationship official. But one day, she heard a voice calling her—a sobbing, pleading voice. She couldn’t ignore it. Somehow, it sounded familiar.

Following the voice, she reached the west gate of the palace. There, a hammer that had appeared one day was trembling violently. As if she was possessed, Henya grabbed it, and that was when she understood.

—Henya. Kill me... please...

“F... Fabian?”

The voice belonged to Fabian, Eslow’s eldest son. Henya was horrified. She knew Eslow’s Authority was weaponization, but to turn even his own blood into a weapon?

“Even if my brother caused trouble, this... this is insane.”

Imprisoning him would’ve been one thing. Turning him into a decorative weapon was, to her, pure madness.

“I can’t reverse this...”

Henya, who had grown since the Sword of the South Tournament, could now hear the voices of the weapons, but that was all; she couldn’t break Eslow’s Authority.

“Just wait a little.”

She immediately went to Eslow. He was polishing weapons as usual and looked pleased to see her.

“How unusual. You came to see me first. Though you do look dissatisfied.”

Just as she was about to demand Fabian be restored, a voice came from the glass shield Eslow was polishing.

—Ahh... ahhh...

It was a sorrowful sound, almost like a song. It was her long-missing mother’s voice.

“What is it?”

Eslow urged Henya to speak. Either he couldn’t hear it or ignored it. Shaken, Henya calmly stated her purpose.

“I want to witness your swordsmanship, Father. Please spar with me.”

“Hm, very well.”

Eslow found it slightly odd, as she shouldn’t need to hesitate to ask that, but he dismissed it. He thought she was simply not used to making requests. He couldn’t imagine she’d been startled by hearing his weapons’ voices because he had completely blocked them himself.

But while sparring, Henya realized something for sure. Eslow intended to turn her, as well as Ryze, into weapons, too. From then on, she planned her escape, but it wasn’t easy. Eslow’s influence covered his entire fief and nearby cities. Surveillance only intensified outside the territory, so a stealthy escape was nearly impossible. Most of all, she couldn’t escape alone—she had to bring Wid and Ryze.

In the end, she contacted the Imperial Special Task Force and received help under the name of political asylum. In the process, she handed over key intelligence about the Lillian Kingdom, but she felt no guilt. She was about to die, and she might lose her loved ones—what was a country compared to that?

But we can’t hide forever.

Even if Keter hadn’t reached out first, she’d planned to settle things.

I’ve prepared everything I can.

She accepted Keter’s advice: use any means necessary. She gathered those with grudges against Eslow and those eager to test themselves against one of the Four Lords. No one—neither the mages of the Green Tower nor the Baen knights—was helping her out of goodwill; they wanted to test their magic and technology against a Lord.

The Lillian Kingdom was already collapsing, making them the perfect test subject. Of course, they were promised generous compensation too.

And I won’t just watch either.

She had a trump card, and Ryze would join the battle. Ryze had extreme mana overload syndrome, but after Keter’s treatment, he retained only the advantages. In theory, he could use mana endlessly without any physical burden. Though he was only four-circle, he could spam four-circle spells without delay, which would be a huge help.

“Haaah...”

No matter how she tried, she couldn’t shake her anxiety. Henya gripped and released her weapon. Seeing that, Wid took her hand. He said nothing—no reassurances, just silence.

“I like the look in your eyes.”

The voice came from the sky, and everyone looked up. Henya immediately got goosebumps. A middle-aged man floated there, having arrived without anyone noticing. It was Weaponmaster Eslow. He had come alone, even knowing it was a trap. He looked over the gathered forces and gave a crooked smile.

“Since it’s a fine day, I’ll entertain you.”

Barehanded, he beckoned them with his finger, as if he was ready to see what they had prepared.