Next Day...
North was cold. Like, really cold.
The kind of cold that didn't just nip at your skin—it bit. Hard.
The wind here wasn't just wind. It howled like some ancient beast, dragging across the frozen plains and slipping under your coat no matter how tightly you wrapped yourself.
Snow blanketed everything—white, endless, suffocating.
There was barely any sunlight in these cursed lands. Even when it was supposed to be morning, the sky looked like someone had smeared soot across it and called it a day.
This place didn't feel alive.
It felt like waiting.
Waiting for something to snap.
Waiting for someone to freeze.
The West was the exact opposite of this frozen hell.
Warm breezes.
Amber skies that stretched on forever.
Fields of gold and green swaying gently beneath the sun.
It was the proud land of the Solhaven Empire—fertile, beautiful, full of promise.
But that's only on the surface.
I thought that bitterly, my breath curling in the air as I stepped outside the final gate of the Duke's estate.
The process had been long. Endless paperwork, silent glares, and cold corridors. But I was finally out.
Free, at least for now.
The West… sure, it looked like a dream.
But beneath the sunlight and songs, it was just another machine built to grind people down.
My family—the Evans family—was part of the West too.
Now my family, technically. A small noble house tucked away on the Empire's outer border. Not powerful. Not famous. But noble blood is noble blood. And that still meant something, even if only barely.
The land we governed was decent. Crops grew. Roads were maintained. People paid their taxes.
But that was it.
Just a small piece of land kept afloat by tradition and pride.
Far beyond our borders, though, the West changed.
That's where the cracks started to show...
The darker corners of the West were where everything the Empire claimed to oppose thrived in silence.
Slavery.
Abuse.
Corruption hiding behind noble crests and flowery titles.
It wasn't supposed to exist.
The Empire had outlawed slavery decades ago.
But laws only mattered where people were willing to enforce them.
And out there?
No one enforced anything.
I remembered something my father told me when I was younger—back when I still looked at the world with wide eyes and not narrowed suspicion.
"In the West," he said, "there are only two types of people."
"Those who own chains… and those who wear them."
At the time, I didn't understand.
Now? I couldn't unsee it.
Even with the Empire's vast wealth and beauty, the West relied too heavily on external food and trade. The powerful made sure their tables stayed full by pushing the burden onto the weak.
The strong grew stronger. The poor stayed desperate.
And anyone who questioned it…disappeared.
Sure, there were native folk—people who didn't belong to any noble line. But they were a minority. Unheard. Unseen. Forgotten.
So yeah, the West smiled in daylight.
But its hands were always bloody by nightfall.
And now I was heading back to it.
I pulled my cloak tighter around my shoulders, teeth clenched against the northern wind.
My footsteps were slow, deliberate, as I approached the waiting carriage.
The cold wind bit at my cheeks, but I barely noticed it anymore.
What weighed heavier than the weather was the voice that called out behind me.
"Young Master... do we really have to go through with this?"
I turned slightly.
It was Sir Darion—the knight with the long scar running down the right side of his face. He stepped out of the carriage, followed by a few other men clad in worn travel gear. I recognized them immediately.
They were part of the small unit that had escorted me here from the West. Loyal retainers of the Evans family—our family knights.
Darion's face, hardened by years of battlefield grit, was unusually tense. Not from fear of war, but from the weight of a different kind of danger.
"What if someone sees through it?" he pressed, lowering his voice. "If anyone finds out you lied to get this permit… it's not just you they'll come after. The entire Evans family will be held responsible. You understand that, don't you?"
I didn't answer right away.
My eyes dropped to the frozen ground, to the faint prints I'd left in the snow. The truth was—he wasn't wrong. This wasn't just a risky plan. It was borderline suicidal. And if it failed, it could bring ruin to more than just me.
But even knowing that...
"I've already made up my mind," I said quietly. "And besides... I didn't lie."
Darion narrowed his eyes. "You mean that sponsor? Whoever signed off on this?"
I nodded. "Yes. The signature was real. The seal too. That's all that matters now."
He didn't argue further—but his frown deepened.
The northern duchy was isolated, a fortress built on frost and silence. Travel between here and the western region took at least a week—sometimes two, depending on the storm season. After escorting me here, my knights had been granted permission to rest for a few days before heading back alone.
They were supposed to leave without me.
That had been the plan—until last night.
After I received the signed travel permit, I sent a message to Darion. I asked him not to depart yet. Told him there had been a change. A small one.
I also told him that I wanted visit Western desert and that kept this secret from family head.
At first he protested but he couldn't refuse my commands.
Now here we are.
Still, Darion wasn't convinced.
"This... Young Master," he said cautiously. "Are you really sure about this?"
I looked up at the pale northern sky. The clouds moved slowly—like they had all the time in the world.
"I'm not sure about anything anymore," I admitted. "But if I stay here, I'll rot. Besides it's not like I'm running away. I'll come back here within one month, So don't worry."
Darion sighed, rubbing his gloved hand across his face.
"You're still the same reckless kid," he muttered. "Only now you're taller."
I allowed myself a small smile.
"And you still talk too much."
That earned me a dry snort.
With a reluctant nod, Darion stepped aside and gestured toward the carriage. "Alright then. Let's move. If the weather holds, we can cross into the midlands before the third sunrise."
I climbed into the carriage, settling into the worn leather seat. The inside smelled of old parchment, steel, and travel-stained cloaks.
As the carriage began to roll forward, wheels crunching against the icy ground, I cast one last glance toward the towering estate behind me.
The Draken Estate stood like a shadow in the snow. Cold. Unforgiving. Silent.
And watching.
I didn't know if Aleck—or rather, Lady Alice Draken—was watching me right now.
But if she was…
I had the strangest feeling she wanted me to run.
But that doesn't matter to me.
If I stay here while doing nothing, I know for sure that I'll die sooner or later.
That's why I decided to go Western desert, to acquire the artifacts that I have in mind.
I won't be weak...No matter what.