—Hush....
An utterly frigid silence settled over the reception room.
The atmosphere was reminiscent of the knife-sharp winds of the Ashfall Mountain Range from moments before.
Meanwhile, Rupel still seemed unable to grasp what had happened after Walter’s sudden slap.
He merely blinked his eyes in a daze.
But only for a moment.
The burning heat spreading across his cheek brought him back to his senses, and he shot to his feet.
—BANG!
“Wh-What in the world do you think you are doing?!”
His brows twisted with rage, and harsh breaths blasted from his nose.
His face had flushed red and blue as well.
Anyone could see that he was thoroughly enraged.
But instead of shrinking back, Walter strode toward him.
Then he stopped directly before Rupel.
“......”
He silently looked down at him.
His golden eyes swept over Rupel.
At the same time, an eerie sensation ran across Rupel’s body, as though a snake were staring down its prey.
—PRICKLE!
Gooseflesh rose across Rupel’s entire body, and he shuddered.
At that moment, Walter let out a quiet scoff as he looked at him.
It was laughable.
To think he had spent all this time under the thumb of someone like this.
To think he had let a man like this squeeze money out of him.
Of course, there had been good reasons for all of it.
It was an undeniable fact that the North owed an enormous debt, and his past self had been cautious.
No.
To be honest, he had been cautious to an excessive degree.
That was why he had never acted rashly and had always placed the North’s future before his own dignity.
If he bowed his head, the statues in Gray Castle might be looted for the time being.
But in return, he could extend the repayment period, even if only slightly.
In the end, he had valued the North’s future circumstances more than his position as the Grand Duke of the North.
Rupel knew that as well, which was why he had treated Walter as he pleased until now.
But the situation had changed.
‘Who am I? A regressor.’
Walter had literally regressed.
He knew the future, and that gave him confidence.
The overwhelming confidence that even if he acted however the fuck he wanted here, he could still turn the situation around.
More importantly—
He was not nearly as cautious as people believed.
Until now, the obsession with surviving at any cost had been the only thing forcing him to act that way.
After experiencing regression once and breaking free of that obsession, he was a far freer spirit than anyone would have expected.
So from now on, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.
He muttered inwardly and jerked his chin.
“Hey.”
“......”
“Does the Grand Duke of the North look like a fucking joke to you?”
Walter looked down at him and spoke in a low voice.
How dare a mere merchant address him so casually?
“Answer me.”
“W-Well, that is......”
Rupel flinched without realizing it and backed away.
Walter Levior, the Grand Duke of the North.
He had lost his father at a young age and ascended to the position of grand duke.
Yet not a single person in the North had opposed that decision.
It was only natural.
Who was Walter?
Even before his coming-of-age ceremony, he had already grown well past 180 centimeters, with a solidly built physique.
At the age of only fourteen, he had manifested Aura, an unprecedented monster of talent.
And now he had reached the level of an upper-tier Sword Expert.
Of course, the problem was that he wasted that talent and natural physique on sleepless nights of paperwork.
Even so, there was no one in the North who could defeat him in single combat.
In other words, the only reason the barbarians had never been able to seize the North with ease was Walter’s very existence.
No matter how worn down he was from working through the night, his intimidating presence remained unchanged.
—WHOOM...!
As if to prove it, his pressure weighed down the entire reception room.
On top of that, though Walter had not intended it, the deep dark circles and haggard appearance left behind by the all-nighters he had pulled until yesterday only intensified the effect.
He exuded even greater pressure than usual.
Walter placed a hand on Rupel’s shoulder.
—THUD.
“Behave like a gentleman.”
“......?”
Rupel’s eyes shook violently at Walter’s words.
Like a gentleman?
Was that really something the man who had slapped him first had the right to say?
But before he could finish that thought, the crushing pressure made it difficult even to move a single finger.
In the end, Rupel lowered his head first.
No.
He had no choice but to lower it.
“......My apologies.”
Walter seemed satisfied by the sight.
“Good.”
—SWISH.
He returned to his seat, crossed his legs, and beckoned to Rupel.
“Now say it again. Like a gentleman.”
“......”
At Walter’s attitude, Rupel cautiously sat back down while watching his expression.
Did that bastard eat something strange?
Where had he found the nerve to act like this overnight?
‘......Does he have something he is relying on?’
There was no other way to make sense of his behavior.
But only for a moment.
Rupel glanced at the letter lying on the table.
It was a debt notice bearing the crest of the ducal House Selbirot.
The Grand Duke of the North’s sudden actions had thrown him off balance, but as long as he had this, Rupel still held the advantage in their debt relationship.
Like a true merchant, he swiftly ran the calculations in his head and decided how to proceed.
“Ahem. Then, Your Grace......”
Rupel cleared his throat and began again.
He slid the letter toward Walter once more.
“Am I to understand that Your Grace is capable of repaying the debt here and now?”
Then show me the card you are holding.
I will crush it right before your eyes.
Rupel asked the question while sharpening his blade inwardly.
“......”
Silence flowed through the reception room.
Before long, Walter answered firmly.
“I can’t.”
“......Pardon?”
“I said I can’t, bastard.”
Walter spoke indifferently as he picked at his ear.
Rupel frowned and stared at him.
What the hell was he trying to pull?
“Does Your Grace intend to play word games with me?”
“Did it seem that way? That’s unfortunate.”
Walter tilted his head and answered without concern.
Rupel gave a hollow laugh in disbelief.
“Have I not already said so? According to the letter, House Selbirot will no longer—”
“You sure won’t shut up about that damn letter.”
Walter clicked his tongue and muttered.
Then, before anyone could stop him, he snatched the letter from the table.
—WHOOSH.
He threw it into the fireplace.
—FWOOSH.
The letter—or what had once been a letter—burned away without leaving a trace.
—CRUMBLE....
In the end, nothing remained but black ash.
Walter casually dusted off his hands.
“If he doesn’t like it, tell him to come himself.”
“......”
Rupel could not say a word.
He merely stared back and forth between Walter and the black ash that had once been his letter.
What?
What just happened?
—Crackle, crackle....
The fire burned as sparks drifted through the air.
Before long, Rupel felt an inexplicable, violent headache and clutched the back of his neck.
At the same time, hollow laughter burst uncontrollably from his mouth.
“Ha... Hahaha! Hahaha! Hahahahaha!”
Walter nodded and laughed heartily as well.
“Haha! Hahaha! Hahahahaha!”
“Ha! Hahaha! Haha, hahahaha!”
Their warm and cheerful laughter filled the reception room.
If I’d known you would enjoy it this much, I would have torn it up sooner.
Walter spoke with a dignified smile.
At the same time—
Snap.
The final thread of Rupel’s reason broke.
This madman had finally crossed the line.
—GRIND...!
Rupel ground his teeth and spoke to Walter.
“Article 2, Clause 7 of Kingdom Law. If a debtor fails to repay a debt within the contract period agreed upon by both parties, the debtor must transfer goods or rights of equivalent value.”
“......”
“And if the debtor refuses to comply, the creditor possesses the right of compulsory enforcement.”
There was not a shred of falsehood in those words.
And what they meant was—
“Since Your Grace has already exceeded the agreed period, you will now have to hand over the rights to your territory without resistance.”
Rupel currently had the authority to exercise the right of compulsory enforcement against Walter.
This was indisputably the law of the kingdom.
If Walter refused to comply, it would amount to treason.
—Hush....
Another silence settled between them.
Before long, Walter, who had remained still until then, opened his mouth.
“Yes. I am aware. But did I not already tell you?”
“......”
“I must see him in person.”
Walter’s answer was perfectly firm.
There was not the slightest tremor in his voice.
Rupel clenched his fist.
“Is that not why I came as the authorized representative of those rights?”
“No. I must see him in person.”
“Your stubbornness will change nothing.”
Rupel answered coldly.
Violence, like Walter’s earlier slap, could sometimes be an effective means of conversation.
But there were times when it did not work.
“This is a fact clearly stipulated in the contract.”
—THUD.
Rupel pulled a contract from inside his coat and placed it on the table.
The earlier document had been nothing more than a letter.
This time, however, it was the merchant guild’s contract, which specified even the exact amount.
“How unfortunate. We merchants have a habit of preparing for unexpected situations.”
Unlike before, even Walter could not reject this.
No one in the kingdom could refuse it—not Walter, nor anyone else.
No one except the king.
Go on, then.
Slap me again like before, you fool.
The instant you do, I’ll gather every law available, from insult and lèse-majesté to treason, and use them all to kill you.
Rupel sneered at Walter as he muttered inwardly.
“So, if you understand, then obediently—”
But at that moment—
“Article 4, Clause 8 of Kingdom Law.”
Walter mercilessly cut him off and rose from his seat.
He strode toward Rupel as he continued.
“In special circumstances equivalent to wartime, a person entrusted with authority possesses the right to reconsider certain laws or orders.”
“......”
“And as you are well aware—”
Walter came to a stop directly before Rupel and looked down at him.
“The North is perpetually at war.”
Rupel flinched and drew back.
His eyes shook violently.
What kind of place was the North?
It was the kingdom’s foremost frontier and the winter fortress that stood against the barbarians who invaded at all hours.
Just as Walter had said, the North was perpetually at war.
And that meant—
Walter had the authority to reconsider the present right of compulsory enforcement.
“So I will tell you once more.”
“......”
The right of review he demanded was simple.
He would discuss the matter only after meeting the creditor, Crepin Selbirot, in person.
Walter spoke quietly.
“Have Crepin Selbirot himself show his face and bring me an official invitation, instead of sending someone like you.”
At the same time—
—RIIIP!
Walter tore the merchant guild’s contract apart without the slightest hesitation.
Then he spoke in a low yet dignified voice.
“That is the law of the North.”
It was the proclamation of Walter Levior, the undisputed master of the North and the man who possessed the Heart of Winter.
Inside the reception room of Gray Castle, his cold golden eyes pierced straight through Rupel.