Chapter 92 – The Ice Duke’s Mindset (3)

The mana-carriage was steeped in a thick, suffocating silence.

It was as if the universe itself had paused, holding its breath, as I, Lehel, Esther Rochear—the Ice Duke—and her stoic subordinate sat locked in a bizarre, four-way standoff.

“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”

The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels and the nauseating stench emanating from…something…beside Esther dominated my senses.

A large, spherical object, easily dwarfing a watermelon, sat perched precariously next to her thigh, radiating a potent, stomach-churning aroma.

This carriage was bound for Farencia. Was she planning another siege?

Even the other passengers, as they passed through the compartment, wrinkled their noses in disgust, casting wary glances at the stoic Duke.

Thump.

My stomach lurched. The milk tea Adela had so enthusiastically prepared during her brief stint as a store clerk now threatened to make a reappearance.

Lehel, seated beside me, wore a similarly green complexion, her discomfort evident.

But Esther and her subordinate remained impassive, their gazes fixed straight ahead, their expressions unreadable.

The Empress of Absolute Frost.

Esther Silvesta de Rochear.

Her emotional control was…impressive.

While her icy glare could curdle milk, she showed no inclination to attack. And for good reason.

Unleashing magic within the confines of a speeding mana-carriage was incredibly dangerous. The carriage, hurtling forward at breakneck speed, was essentially a land-bound meteor, shattering anything in its path. Even a minor structural compromise could result in a catastrophic derailment.

Even an Archduke couldn’t afford such recklessness.

“Ugh, what is that smell? If you’re going to be sick, find an inn! Who vomits on a mana-carriage?”

“Oppa, it’s alright. Let’s just move to first class.”

Crack.

The passing couple’s complaints triggered a subtle but noticeable reaction from Esther. A faint cracking sound, barely audible above the clatter of the wheels.

The floor beneath her elegantly crossed legs was frosting over. Her eyes twitched almost imperceptibly.

“Seriously, it smells like a latrine exploded. I swear, I’m going to…”

“Oppa, please. We’re on our way to see your sister. Just be patient.”

“If it were Ansen, I wouldn’t tolerate this for a second.”

Screech.

Emotionless, right?

I was starting to have my doubts.

Why had she returned to Farencia? Whatever her reason, if this continued, the mana-carriage would be a smoldering wreck before we reached our destination.

Of all the times…

“That’s it. I’m going to give them a piece of my mind.”

“Just leave it, Oppa! Let’s go!”

Esther rose to her feet, her patience clearly at an end.

This wasn’t just about the unfortunate couple anymore. Everyone on board was now in danger.

I had to act.

“What are you doing here?”

***

Louis’s bluntness startled Lehel. She instinctively glanced up, peering at him from beneath the brim of her wide-brimmed hat.

Informal speech? To an Archduke? From a mere store owner?

While she was well aware of Louis’s…unconventional power, this was a blatant breach of protocol.

“Step aside,” Esther commanded, her voice cold and sharp as glacial ice.

“I asked you a question. Why are you here?”

Esther Silvesta de Rochear, the Ice Duke, was widely regarded as the most powerful mage in Pennheim. She’d surpassed even the weakened Reincarnation Duke and the Gourmet Duke, eclipsing the legacies of the previous Ice Duke and Illusion Duke. She was Pennheim’s shining beacon of hope, a warrior who stood on the front lines against the demonic hordes, her beauty matched only by her ruthless efficiency in battle. Her name, often uttered in the same breath as Terra Ernestine’s, spoke volumes.

And yet, here was Louis, a mere store owner, addressing her as if she were a delinquent student.

“B-Boss…” Lehel whimpered, clutching at his arm.

If a fight broke out, she wouldn’t stand a chance. Despite her youthful appearance, she was, in this lifetime, an aging mage. Powerful, yes, but no match for an Archduke in her prime.

“I’m not obligated to explain myself to you,” Esther stated, her gaze unwavering.

“Perhaps not. But you are obligated to explain yourself to her.” Louis reached under his robe, grabbed Lehel by the armpit, and unceremoniously presented her to Esther. “Recognize her?”

“I do not.”

“This is the Headmaster of Farencia Academy, the institution you so graciously…redecorated…last time we met.”

“Eek! That’s not true! I would never!”

“Not only that, she’s also the Tower Master of Merak Tower, one of Pennheim’s five Archdukes, recipient of the Four Laurels for defending the capital during the Great War, and wielder of the Unique Magic that can rain meteors down upon you until you’re nothing but a greasy stain. Want to test your luck in a little Archduke-on-Archduke action? Right here? Right now?”

“HIIIIII!” Lehel shrieked, flailing like a fish out of water, scrambling out of Louis’s grasp and hiding behind him, her eyes wide with terror.

Esther’s gaze finally shifted to Lehel, her expression unreadable.

“I…I…I…” Lehel stammered, shrinking under the Ice Duke’s scrutiny.

“Hmm. I see.”

“What?”

“Zikfreed.”

“Yes, Countess.”

Esther’s subordinate drew his sword, the polished steel glinting menacingly in the dim light of the carriage.

Lehel yelped and dove behind Louis, clinging to him like a terrified child.

A moment later, something large and…pungent…was thrust into her hands.

“Take this.”

“What…?”

It was the source of the nauseating odor, the mysterious spherical object.

“Ambergris. Regurgitated by a sperm whale.”

“What…?”

“Consider it compensation for the damages to the academy.”

“What about the damages to my store?”

“…I came here for one reason,” Esther said, smoothly deflecting my question, clearly unwilling to offer further reparations.

“To rehabilitate Adela Silvesta.”

Finally, the reason for Esther’s presence was revealed.

Adela, having awakened her Unique Magic, had requested Esther’s guidance, seeking to master the Rochear family’s ice magic.

While this didn’t necessarily imply hostile intent, it hardly alleviated my concerns.

“Oh, really?”

Louis’s reaction was…unexpected. He seemed almost…pleased. He even approached Esther, clapping her on the shoulder with an almost jovial familiarity.

“Well, best of luck with that. Don’t push her too hard.”

“Boss?” Lehel and I exchanged bewildered glances.

“Well, look at that! We’ve arrived! Good luck with your…rehabilitation project. And…if things get…messy…feel free to drop by the store. We’re always open to…negotiations.”

He practically dragged Lehel off the carriage, leaving her clutching the pungent lump of ambergris.

As he waved cheerfully, his grin infuriatingly wide, Lehel couldn’t contain her confusion.

“Why are you so happy, Boss? This could be disastrous for Farencia!”

“They claim their intentions are peaceful, so what can I do? This country has freedom of movement. Besides…” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, his breath warm against her ear. Lehel shivered involuntarily. “They’re screwed.”

“What…what do you mean?”

The man who stood unflinchingly before an Archduke, who wielded his power with such casual confidence, now wore an expression of pure amusement.

“I’ve seen countless attempts to…‘reform’ Adela. It never ends well. Even the Princess, who’s been her biggest supporter, nearly lost her position as student council president because of her. And Adela’s grades? They plummeted. It was a scandal! You’d have better luck teaching a rock to sing.”

“Is…is that so?”

Lehel felt a strange mix of relief and…something else…a fluttering sensation in her chest, as unexpected and unsettling as the pungent aroma of the ambergris she clutched in her hand.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go.” His voice, so close to her ear, sent shivers down her spine.

“Oh, and…thank you for the Magic Cube.”

“Oh! Y-you’re welcome! Ha ha…” Lehel’s ears burned, a fiery blush spreading across her cheeks. She was grateful for the wide brim of her hat, which concealed her embarrassment.

“We’re…joint owners, after all! Yours…and mine…”

***

He’s more unpredictable than I anticipated.

It had been a perfect opportunity, but the location was unsuitable.

Esther watched Louis disappear into the bustling crowd, a flicker of annoyance in her eyes.

“Shall we pursue?” Zikfreed asked.

“No.”

Unleashing her power within the confines of the mana-carriage was too risky.

Had he been a demon, she would have eliminated him without hesitation, consequences be damned.

But Louis…he was an irritant, a source of frustration, but not an immediate threat. Not yet.

“He identified himself as the store owner. He’s likely with the Headmaster. We can locate him easily enough within Farencia.”

“Understood.”

She’d come to Farencia with a small contingent, her trusted subordinate Zikfreed, rather than a full military escort. This wasn’t a conquest. Not yet.

She dispatched Zikfreed to contact the Ruhillen family, then proceeded to the designated meeting place.

Behind Bayu Hall, nestled amongst the opulent villas overlooking a tranquil lake.

The grounds were deserted, the noble families and their staff having retreated to their summer estates. And there, amidst the manicured lawns and vibrant flowerbeds, stood a solitary figure, a splash of vibrant blue against the verdant backdrop.

Thump. Thump.

Esther approached, her footsteps measured, silent, the soft breeze carrying the scent of blooming jasmine.

“Sister. It’s been a while.”

“Indeed, Adela.”

Esther’s gaze swept over her younger sister, noting the complex emotions swirling within her sapphire eyes.

Adela wasted no time on pleasantries.

“I’ve awakened my Unique Magic.”

“So I’ve heard. Your letter was…informative.”

“But my control is…inadequate.”

“That’s to be expected. It’s not a power easily mastered.”

“I need your guidance.”

“As you wish.”

Clang.

Esther plunged her frost-covered spear into the hardened earth, her gaze fixed on Adela’s chest, where the Rochear family crest was prominently displayed.

Her blue hair rippled in the gentle breeze as she spoke, her voice echoing with the weight of tradition.

“You have proven yourself a worthy inheritor of the Rochear bloodline. Speak. What do you require? What do you seek?”

Esther remembered the ritual, the cold, calculated removal of her own heart, a necessary sacrifice to unlock the full potential of her Unique Magic.

To eradicate the demonic taint from this land.

To fulfill the unfinished legacy of her father, who’d died with that very ambition burning within his heart.

To restore the Rochear family to its former glory, to become the spear of Pennheim, a beacon of hope in this blighted world.

She had grasped that icy spear, a symbol of her resolve, and had never looked back.

“Tell me! What purpose does your magic serve? What world do you envision?”

“…”

She waited, her posture unwavering, her expression a mask of icy indifference.

And then, Adela, the girl who’d summoned her from the distant reaches of the kingdom, finally spoke, her voice small, almost hesitant.

“There’s this…woman…who keeps clinging to my teacher-nya.”

What?

“She smiles all fake and fox-like, and it’s really annoying-nya. I think she might steal him away from me-nya.”

What?

“Oh, and I can only do this much magic-nya.” She proudly presented her…weapon…a pathetically small ice shard, more befitting a child’s toy than a powerful mage.

“Please…help me-nya.”

As Esther stared at her sister’s…utter lack of self-awareness…Louis’s parting grin flashed through her mind. A premonition of impending chaos.