Winter had not disappeared.
The snow still fell.
The northern winds still howled across the frozen plains.
The nights remained long.
The seas remained cold.
Yet something had changed so dramatically that travelers who arrived at Frostbound Coast often wondered if they had entered a different territory altogether.
The first major road network had finally been completed.
And the result...
Left the entire North speechless.
Night had fallen.
A merchant caravan slowly traveled along one of Frostbound Coast's newly completed roads.
The horses moved calmly.
No panic.
No hesitation.
No fear.
Something unimaginable for nighttime travel.
The lead merchant repeatedly looked around.
Then looked again.
Then once more.
As though afraid the scene before him might vanish.
Because the road was glowing.
Not brightly.
Not blindingly.
A gentle silver-blue radiance flowed across the specially designed tiles.
The entire road appeared like a river of stars stretching across the frozen wilderness.
Each tile reacted differently.
Some glowed blue.
Others green.
Several displayed hints of orange.
The changing colors reflected temperature fluctuations and environmental conditions.
Creating a beautiful sight.
A sight unlike anything that existed elsewhere in the Empire.
And above them...
Magic street lights stood proudly.
Tall metal pillars forged from specially treated magical alloys.
Warm golden light illuminated the surroundings.
The snow glittered beneath the radiance.
The darkness retreated.
The wilderness no longer felt terrifying.
It felt safe.
Almost welcoming.
A young merchant apprentice stared with wide eyes.
"This..."
His voice trembled slightly.
"This is real?"
The caravan master laughed.
The man had already traveled this road several times.
Yet even he couldn't hide his amazement.
"I had the same reaction."
The apprentice slowly reached down and touched one of the glowing tiles.
The warmth surprised him.
"It's warm."
"Of course."
The caravan master smiled.
"The rods beneath the street lights release controlled heat."
The apprentice looked shocked.
"Why?"
The older merchant pointed ahead.
The snow covering the surrounding wilderness gradually disappeared near the road.
The pathway remained remarkably clear.
"No ice."
Realization appeared instantly.
The apprentice froze.
Then looked around once more.
His eyes widened.
"...This is incredible."
The caravan master nodded.
"No."
His voice became quieter.
"It's revolutionary."
The rumors spread.
Like wildfire.
No.
Faster than wildfire.
Within weeks...
Stories of glowing roads reached neighboring territories.
Then neighboring provinces.
Then major cities.
Then eventually—
The Imperial Capital.
Many dismissed the stories immediately.
Naturally.
They sounded absurd.
Roads that glowed.
Street lights spanning wilderness routes.
Warm roads that resisted winter.
It sounded like exaggerated traveler tales.
Nothing more.
Then the witnesses began arriving.
And everything changed.
A nobleman from a neighboring territory stood atop a hill overlooking Frostbound Coast.
His expensive fur cloak fluttered in the wind.
His mouth remained slightly open.
Below him—
The glowing road stretched toward the horizon.
Connecting settlements.
Connecting outposts.
Connecting people.
At night...
The entire territory looked like a constellation drawn across the earth itself.
The noble slowly lowered his spyglass.
"...By the gods."
His attendant nodded.
"I had the same reaction."
The noble became silent.
Then asked quietly.
"Who designed this?"
The attendant answered immediately.
"Count Kel Rosenfeld."
The noble stared toward the horizon.
For several moments.
Then finally whispered.
"How old is he again?"
The visitors increased.
Then increased again.
Then increased even further.
Commoners arrived.
Merchants arrived.
Scholars arrived.
Researchers arrived.
Engineers arrived.
Architects arrived.
Nobles arrived.
Everyone wanted to see the roads.
Everyone wanted to see the miracle.
Everyone wanted to know if the rumors were true.
And when they saw it...
Their reactions became even worse.
Because the rumors had actually understated reality.
The visitors toured the settlements.
The roads.
The outposts.
The educational institutes.
The ports.
The sea routes.
The monster management facilities.
The heated agricultural zones.
Everything.
One scholar spent three days studying the road system.
Then locked himself inside an inn.
Then spent another three days rewriting his research notes.
His entire understanding of infrastructure had been shattered.
A merchant from the capital stood beneath a magic street light.
Then looked toward a nearby official.
"How much of the project is completed?"
The official smiled politely.
"Approximately twenty percent."
The merchant nodded.
Then froze.
Then slowly turned back.
"...Twenty?"
"Yes."
The official maintained his smile.
"Eighty percent remains unfinished."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The merchant stared.
His brain temporarily stopped functioning.
Nearby travelers overheard the conversation.
Several nearly stumbled.
One noblewoman actually dropped her teacup.
"Eighty percent remains?"
"You're joking."
"No."
"But this already looks incredible!"
The official sighed.
A reaction he had repeated dozens of times recently.
"Limited manpower."
The explanation came naturally.
"We lack sufficient workers."
"Builders."
"Engineers."
"Researchers."
"Specialists."
The official pointed toward distant construction sites.
"The Count's plans are much larger."
The crowd became silent.
Because suddenly...
They understood.
This wasn't the completed vision.
This was merely the beginning.
And once people realized that...
Everything changed.
Merchants began offering investments.
Construction companies offered workers.
Research institutions proposed cooperation.
Several noble houses offered partnerships.
The momentum became unstoppable.
Yet despite all this excitement...
One problem remained.
A very frustrating problem.
Nobody could find Kel Rosenfeld.
A noble delegation arrived.
They requested a meeting.
Denied.
Not intentionally.
Simply impossible.
The Count wasn't present.
A royal envoy arrived.
Requesting an audience.
Again.
Impossible.
Another noble attempted waiting outside the mansion.
Three days passed.
No Kel.
The man finally asked Eleanor.
"When exactly does the Count return?"
The Head Maid adjusted her glasses.
Then answered honestly.
"I don't know."
The noble stared.
"...You don't know?"
Eleanor nodded.
"At the moment he is either in the forests."
A pause.
"Or the ocean."
Another pause.
"Or construction sites."
Another pause.
"Or research facilities."
The noble looked horrified.
"When does he sleep?"
Eleanor thought carefully.
Then answered.
"That remains one of Frostbound Coast's greatest mysteries."
Eventually a strange rumor spread.
The Count of Frostbound Coast existed only in theory.
Because nobody actually saw him.
The joke became surprisingly popular.
"Have you met the Count?"
"No."
"Anyone met the Count?"
"No."
"Does the Count truly exist?"
"...Maybe."
Even royal envoys began suffering.
One envoy finally met Gareth.
The veteran knight listened patiently.
Then the envoy asked.
"Can you arrange a meeting?"
Gareth laughed.
A long laugh.
A painful laugh.
Then shook his head.
"My Lord appears where he wishes."
The envoy looked defeated.
Meanwhile—
The person causing all this chaos remained completely unaware.
Far from the city.
Far from politics.
Far from noble visitors.
Kel stood within a massive engineering workshop.
Several researchers surrounded him.
Blueprints covered every table.
Experimental materials filled every corner.
The young Count carefully examined a heating crystal prototype.
His attention completely focused.
A researcher spoke nervously.
"My Lord."
Kel looked up.
"The crystal is unstable."
The researcher expected disappointment.
Instead—
Kel smiled.
"Good."
The room froze.
Good?
"The failure identifies the weakness."
Kel immediately began making notes.
"We improve it."
The researchers stared.
Then hurriedly followed.
Far beneath Scarder Lake.
Seiren quietly observed.
Then sighed.
"Your father arrived."
Kel continued writing.
"I know."
The Guardian blinked.
"You know?"
"Yes."
"And you still haven't met him?"
Kel finally looked up from his notes.
A rare expression appeared.
Guilt.
Just a little.
Then he sighed.
"I've been busy."
Seiren laughed.
A beautiful laugh echoing through ancient waters.
"That may be the worst excuse I have ever heard."
Kel couldn't even argue.
Because it was true.
Elsewhere—
A magnificent carriage entered Frostbound Coast.
The banner of House Rosenfeld fluttered proudly.
People immediately stepped aside.
Respect.
Admiration.
Recognition.
Inside the carriage sat Duke Aktaris von Rosenfeld.
Ruler of the North.
One of the Empire's most powerful men.
The father of Kel Rosenfeld.
The Duke quietly observed the territory.
The roads.
The lights.
The settlements.
The bustling activity.
The transformed frontier.
The impossible progress.
His expression gradually became complicated.
Then impressed.
Then slightly amused.
Eventually he spoke.
Mostly to himself.
"He's done it again."
The knight accompanying him smiled.
"The Young Master?"
Aktaris nodded.
His gaze drifted toward the glowing road stretching toward the horizon.
A road unlike anything else in the Empire.
"No."
A faint smile appeared.
"The entire territory."
Then the Duke asked the same question everyone else had been asking.
"Where is Kel?"
Silence followed.
The knight coughed awkwardly.
"...Nobody knows."
For the first time in many years...
The mighty Duke of the North looked genuinely helpless.
Meanwhile—
Far away.
In a workshop filled with alchemists, engineers, and researchers.
The missing Count remained completely focused on solving another problem.
Because while everyone else celebrated twenty percent completion...
Kel's mind remained occupied by the remaining eighty.
And in Frostbound Coast...
That had become the most terrifying thing of all.