The blizzard that seemed ready to bury the world died down.
The northern Snowy Mountain, where life gone cold in the brutal chill became a cold deception, and nothing but harshness remained.
Beneath the landscape of the pure white snowfield.
Hair of deep black stood out unmistakably.
The soldiers watching from atop the walls knew at once who that man was.
People with black hair were hard to find on the continent, and besides, no soldier of the county castle could fail to recognise that finely handsome face.
"Wh-what should we do, Centurion?"
At the soldier's words the centurion spoke firmly.
"Do not let him in."
"Sir...? But Lord Adrian is—"
"I know."
Adrian, eldest son of House White Wolf.
The master of this county castle.
Refusing to admit the master was itself a disturbance of the county's order, but—
"The late Count did not acknowledge Lord Adrian, right to the very end."
The Count's wastrel, Adrian.
Adrian's very existence disturbs the order of the county.
Considering all the outrages and violence he would commit on returning to the county, this decision was by no means wrong.
"Sir Kai also instructed us not to let Lord Adrian inside the castle."
Kai, Head Knight of House White Wolf.
At the mere age of twenty, Kai had risen to become the greatest fighting strength in the White Wolf county.
A knight of natural genius, considered certain to reach the rank of Master in time.
A genius among geniuses, receiving offers from the Royal Guard.
The late Count trusted Kai more than Adrian.
Which is why Kai's standing within the county castle was overwhelming.
To soldiers in particular, with their firm chain of command, Kai's order was no different from the Lord's order, so—
"Understood."
At the name 'Kai' the soldiers nodded immediately.
And at that very moment.
"Open it."
A sharp voice came from behind them.
They turned their heads to look.
A man was walking toward them, step by measured step.
"Head Butler!"
The soldiers saluted as one.
The Head Butler soon came to stand before the centurion.
"Open the castle gate."
"B-but..."
"Lord Adrian is the rightful heir of House White Wolf. He is the young lord of the county."
"Even so, the will the late Count left behind—"
"The royal decree has not yet come down. Until the Crown formally accepts the late Count's will, Lord Adrian holds the authority of the rightful heir."
"......"
"I said open the castle gate this instant."
The centurion bit his lower lip.
In an emergency the Head Butler acquires the 'standing of the Lord's proxy.'
And now that the late Count had passed.
Until the next Lord is confirmed, the Head Butler becomes the Lord's proxy.
".........Understood."
The centurion had no choice but to open the tightly shut castle gate.
***
RRRUMBLE!
The castle gate, built of thick timber, roared as it swung open.
The gate opened slowly, and without resistance.
My head tilted to the side before I knew it.
"Less resistance than I expected?"
Not less — none at all.
Honestly, I'd assumed they'd never open it for me.
Nobody in the house liked me, the Count's wastrel.
Even my father's will named Seraphia instead of me, which left me a borrowed sack of barley.
I was the rightful heir by bloodline alone.
Nothing but a wastrel with no authority and nothing else.
Privately I'd braced myself for a proper fight with the soldiers.
"If I'd known, maybe I should have just come straight here."
I put myself through hell on a blizzard-blown mountain for nothing, all to raise a level.
After a little while the gate opened fully.
The snow piled on the gate came sifting down, blocking my view for a moment.
One artificial flurry passed, and—
A man walked out through the gate.
A man in a neat, spotless black suit.
His age might have been somewhere in his mid to late thirties.
A collar arranged with precision, not a thread out of place.
Well-groomed auburn hair swept straight back.
You could glimpse in it a character that permitted not even a small mistake.
"I will show you inside."
The low, smooth voice held almost no emotion in it.
It was a face I had in my memory.
One of the household of House White Wolf.
His name was probably......
"What's your name?"
......I couldn't remember it well.
At my question the man's eyebrow twitched.
Fair enough — from this man's point of view, only about a week had passed since I stormed out of the house.
Bluntly put, I must have looked no different from a goldfish.
Perhaps he even saw me as something below a goldfish.
Still, the man composed his expression quickly and answered.
"Bernard."
"Bernard?"
"That is correct."
"Bernard... Bernard..."
Even having heard the name, it wouldn't come back to me.
Small wonder, for a house I had cut ties with more than fifteen years ago.
What's more, my memory had been badly stained and fouled by the war with the Emperor, which left me with even less of the house.
Still, hearing the name spoken did bring a few faint memories back.
If this memory is right......
"Bernard Neville?"
"That is correct."
Bernard answered with a slight bow of his head.
Even in the simple act of bowing there was a knife-edged precision no less than a knight's.
At that disciplined bearing I was able to recall a few more things.
'He was the Head Butler, wasn't he?'
The Head Butler is a post as weighty as the 'Lord's proxy.' Which is why both ability and origin were weighed fairly carefully.
In that sense, Bernard was a 'noble.'
And the breed called nobles put great stock in rules and justification.
They had a particularly strong tendency to make an issue of bloodline, which caused no end of headaches in the early days of forming the allied forces.
The ones with no ability had voices no smaller than an Ogre's.
At any rate, Bernard was a noble of that sort.
A man of principle who valued rules and justification above anyone.
But one who came with 'competence' as well.
Which is why my father trusted him and seated Bernard as Head Butler despite his youth.
'He was also the only one in the house who took my side.'
It wasn't because he thought well of me.
It was because that was the 'principle.'
For a high noble of Count rank or above, when the succession passes to someone other than the rightful heir or heiress, it requires the royal family's permission under royal decree.
White Wolf is a high noble house of 'Count.'
In other words, until the Crown recognises my father's will, I hold the authority of the rightful heir.
'Well, it's a matter of time in the end.'
Because my father's will was by no means forged.
My father left everything of the house to Seraphia, not to me.
So there is no such thing as a right I could reclaim.
With the household already turned against me, what could I possibly gain?
That is why in my previous life I stormed out of the house.
It's no different now.
I didn't come back to the house to reclaim some rightful heir's privileges.
'Until Ian comes.'
I intend to stay in the house only until then.
And I intend to leave Seraphia alive only until then.
More precisely: why did Ian regret killing Seraphia?
I intended to decide what to do with Seraphia after hearing that reason.
And if it turns out to be a worthless reason?
That is, if it's because Ian was in love with Seraphia?
Of course, there's no chance of that with Ian.
As the continent's Hero and the supreme commander of the allied forces, Ian would not regret killing Seraphia over so trivial a reason.
I would stake my life on this.
There is certainly a 'rational reason' why Ian regretted killing Seraphia.
Only, there is no guarantee it is a reason I will 'accept.'
And if it is a reason I cannot accept?
Then I will kill Seraphia without mercy.
So there is neither need nor reason to cling to some hollow rightful heir's privileges now.
What matters right now is a force to oppose the Imperial Army.
And the strength to stand against the Emperor.
"Your room has been cleaned thoroughly. Meals will be brought to your room as usual. Please rest at your ease."
I called out to stop Bernard as he turned to leave.
"No. Bring the meal somewhere other than my room."
***
The centurion stood rigid, his face and expression stiff.
Kai's eyes glinted as he spoke.
"Did I not tell you never to let him in?"
At that the centurion snapped into an even straighter posture, thoroughly disciplined.
His face and expression hard, Kai asked the centurion.
"Then what is the reason you let him inside?"
"That was...... the Head Butler gave the instruction, so there was nothing to be done."
"The Head Butler, you say?"
It happened the instant Kai's question surfaced.
"I was the one who showed Lord Adrian inside."
Bernard came walking from the direction of the Lord's castle within the county castle.
A stride without a thread out of place.
It was hard to tell whether he was a butler or a knight.
"You have come, Lady Seraphia."
Bernard bowed his head and paid his respects toward Seraphia.
The form of address was not Count or My Lord, but Lady Seraphia.
Bernard treated her not as the next Lord but as the eldest daughter of House White Wolf.
That was the fundamental principle.
Therefore Bernard's conduct was legitimate.
There was no problem with the procedure either.
If anything, it was Kai's conduct in trying to bar Adrian that was an illegitimate overstep.
While Kai's gaze was turned downward, Seraphia tilted her head and asked.
"But Head Butler Bernard. What is that in your hands?"
A covered tray resting in Bernard's hands.
Bernard lifted the lid and showed her the contents inside.
A roast turkey, cooked to a fine golden brown.
"It is the meal I am bringing to Lord Adrian."
Kai's eyes flashed with a strange light for an instant.
Turkey is a precious ingredient.
A dish you might eat at a festival or on a day of commemoration.
Here in the north especially, it was a rare and precious ingredient, hard to eat even on such a day.
Kai's fist clenched tight.
That the man had gone out of his way to return to the house was one thing, but that he was squandering the territory's precious food the moment he arrived was intolerable.
"Where is he?"
Kai asked Bernard where Adrian had gone.
By rights Adrian ought to have been shut up in his own room.
Because he committed every kind of outrage the moment he came out, the late Count had finally had enough and confined Adrian to his room.
But the late Count had passed away a few days ago.
The one who kept Adrian's violence in check was gone.
Perhaps he was already off gambling, having wrung territory funds out of someone in the name of a rightful heir's privileges.
Or harassing the women of the county.
Or making trouble at a tavern.
Or beating the territory's residents for having an unpleasant face.
Or threatening them for daring to look him in the eye.
Or throwing innocent residents into a cell for slighting him.
Or drunk in the street committing indiscriminate violence, smashing up the stalls of street vendors, and on and on.
The outrages Adrian had committed all this time.
Kai's teeth were already on edge.
And sure enough.
"Lord Adrian is not in the Lord's castle."
Adrian was not in the Lord's castle.
He was a step too late.
Kai ground his teeth without meaning to.
Adrian has to be killed after all.
Seen one way, it is the act of a knight driving a blade into his liege's back.
But it was a thing that was rightly necessary.
No — it is a thing that absolutely must be done.
Just as a heavy killing intent surfaced in Kai's blue eyes, it happened.
"Lord Adrian is currently at the 'Frost Proving Ground.'"
".........What?"
At Bernard's answer Kai's expression floated up blank for a moment, like a fool's.