The atmosphere within the Grand Dining Hall had gradually shifted.
The discussions regarding Nameless.
The Divine Spoon Art.
And the absurd rumors spreading throughout the Empire.
Slowly faded into the background.
Outside the fortress windows, snow continued falling.
The mountain upon which Rosenfeld Estate stood remained wrapped in silver moonlight.
Ancient dragon statues watched silently from the towers.
As though they had witnessed countless generations gathering beneath this very roof.
The warm glow of chandeliers reflected upon polished obsidian floors.
The dinner was nearing its conclusion.
Then—
Duke Aktaris Rosenfeld placed down his wine glass.
The soft sound instantly silenced the room.
Not because it was loud.
Because everyone present instinctively paid attention whenever the ruler of the North decided to speak.
The conversations stopped.
Even the younger children became quiet.
Aktaris' sharp eyes swept across the table.
Eventually stopping upon Kel.
For several moments he remained silent.
Then spoke.
"There is another matter."
Immediately, everyone became attentive.
Kel looked toward his father.
The Duke's expression remained calm.
Yet something about his gaze felt unusual.
"I have sent invitations."
The room remained quiet.
"Invitations?"
Victor raised an eyebrow.
Aktaris nodded.
"Three days from now."
"The day of Kel's birthday."
His next words caused several family members to freeze.
"There will be a formal celebration."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Several people blinked.
As if they suspected they had misheard.
Then Leonard slowly looked toward his younger brother.
"...You personally sent invitations?"
The Duke nodded.
"Correct."
The silence deepened.
Even Helena seemed slightly surprised.
Arthur nearly dropped his fork.
Elise looked confused.
Aria's eyes widened.
For the first time that evening—
Everyone appeared genuinely shocked.
Because they understood what this meant.
Duke Aktaris Rosenfeld never did things like this.
Never.
The ruler of the North disliked unnecessary social events.
Formal parties happened.
Political gatherings happened.
Diplomatic events happened.
But personally organizing something?
For a birthday?
That was unprecedented.
Victor laughed awkwardly.
"Brother."
"Are you feeling unwell?"
Several family members immediately nodded.
Reasonable question.
Aktaris stared at him.
Victor immediately looked away.
"Never mind."
The Duke ignored him.
His gaze remained on Kel.
"Every major noble family has expressed interest."
"The southern provinces."
"The western territories."
"The eastern merchants."
"The central imperial houses."
"Many wish to meet you."
Kel remained silent.
Not surprised.
Only thoughtful.
His achievements had already spread throughout the Empire.
The transformation of Frostbound Coast.
The explosive economic growth.
The Mana Crystal Mine.
The Unwritten Horizon Guild.
Even if nobody knew his involvement with Nameless—
His accomplishments as Count Kel von Rosenfeld were already extraordinary.
The Duke continued.
"They have waited long enough."
The meaning behind those words was clear.
For years.
Kel had remained distant from noble society.
While Frostbound was growing.
While he was exploring.
While he was creating systems.
Most nobles knew only reports.
Stories.
Rumors.
Now.
For the first time.
They would meet him personally.
Aria suddenly smiled.
"Oh."
Kel immediately disliked that smile.
"What?"
Aria leaned forward.
"This means every noble daughter in the Empire will be attending."
The room became strangely quiet.
Then Victor laughed.
Leonard laughed.
Even Helena smiled.
Arthur looked confused.
Elise looked curious.
Kel immediately knew this conversation was dangerous.
Unfortunately.
Aria wasn't finished.
"The poor nobles."
Victor nodded.
"They've been waiting years."
The room laughed.
Kel calmly drank water.
Refusing to participate.
Inside his mind—
Seiren spoke immediately.
"Run."
"I cannot."
"Then I wish you luck."
"Thank you."
"You'll need it."
Kel had a terrible feeling.
The topic thankfully shifted before things became worse.
Eventually dinner ended.
Family members returned to their rooms.
The mountain fortress gradually became quiet.
Yet over the next three days—
Kel discovered a different problem.
A far more dangerous problem.
His family.
The first day began peacefully.
At least initially.
Kel woke early.
Finished meditation.
Completed his morning sword practice.
Reviewed several reports from Frostbound.
Everything felt normal.
Then Arthur found him.
"Big Brother!"
Kel immediately knew peace had ended.
The fourteen-year-old practically dragged him toward the training grounds.
The reason?
Simple.
Arthur wanted to watch him practice.
More specifically—
Arthur wanted to watch him use swordsmanship.
And possibly the Divine Spoon Art.
Kel refused the second request.
Repeatedly.
Arthur remained unconvinced.
By noon.
Three cousins had joined.
By evening.
Eight.
Soon.
Every younger family member within the estate had gathered.
The training grounds became crowded.
"Again!"
"That sword movement!"
"How did you do that?"
"Can you throw something?"
"No."
"Just once."
"No."
"A spoon?"
"No."
The negotiations continued for hours.
Eventually.
Kel demonstrated several sword forms.
Nothing extraordinary.
Only fundamentals.
Yet the younger children watched with shining eyes.
Because fundamentals performed perfectly often looked more impressive than advanced techniques.
Snow drifted through the air.
The mountain winds howled across the training grounds.
Kel's silver cloak fluttered behind him.
His sword moved calmly.
Elegantly.
Every motion precise.
Every strike efficient.
No wasted movement.
No unnecessary flourish.
Even the adults occasionally stopped to watch.
After all.
Many had heard stories about Count Kel.
Few had actually witnessed him training.
At one point.
Arthur attempted to copy a movement.
Immediately fell.
And accidentally hit himself with a wooden sword.
The entire training ground erupted into laughter.
Including Kel.
Unfortunately.
Arthur saw that.
And immediately declared revenge.
The second day proved even more exhausting.
Because the older cousins found him.
Unlike the younger generation—
They weren't interested in swordsmanship.
They were interested in Frostbound.
Particularly the four family members who already possessed territories.
The eldest son of House Rosenfeld.
Count Roland Rosenfeld.
Twenty-three years old.
Veteran military commander.
Currently overseeing border operations against monster incursions.
He had returned temporarily for the celebration.
The eldest daughter of the second branch.
Viscountess Serena Rosenfeld.
Twenty years old.
Brilliant.
Ambitious.
Currently deciding whether her future lay in politics or military service.
Aria.
Viscountess Aria Rosenfeld.
And finally—
Count Kel Rosenfeld.
The youngest territory holder.
Yet somehow the most successful.
The four eventually gathered within one of the estate's study halls.
A fire crackled within a stone fireplace.
Maps covered the walls.
Ancient books filled countless shelves.
Outside.
Snow covered the mountains.
Inside.
A different battle began.
Questions.
Endless questions.
Roland pointed toward a map.
"How did you increase merchant traffic so quickly?"
Serena immediately followed.
"How did you attract investors?"
Aria joined.
"How did you convince people to move into a frozen wasteland?"
The discussion lasted hours.
Kel answered patiently.
Roads.
Trade incentives.
Tax reductions.
Infrastructure.
Security.
Long-term planning.
Institutional stability.
Public trust.
Administrative transparency.
The conversation became increasingly serious.
At one point.
Even Duke Aktaris quietly entered.
Then sat nearby.
Listening.
Not speaking.
Simply observing.
Hours passed.
No one noticed.
The discussion became so detailed that servants were forced to bring additional tea.
Then additional food.
Then additional tea again.
Eventually Roland rubbed his forehead.
"You planned all this when you were fourteen?"
Kel nodded.
The room became silent.
Serena sighed.
"I dislike comparing myself to relatives."
Another pause.
Then she pointed toward Kel.
"But you're making it difficult."
The room laughed.
Even Duke Aktaris smiled faintly.
The third day arrived quickly.
The mountain fortress became increasingly busy.
Servants hurried through hallways.
Decorations appeared throughout the estate.
Preparations accelerated.
Noble guests would soon arrive.
Meanwhile.
Kel found himself trapped between multiple groups.
The younger children wanted sword practice.
The older cousins wanted political discussions.
Arthur wanted stories.
Elise wanted attention.
Aria wanted Aetherial Institute discussions.
Roland wanted military strategy.
Serena wanted governance advice.
Marine wanted him to rest.
His mother wanted him to socialize.
His father wanted him available.
Even Seiren occasionally interrupted through telepathy.
"You look tired."
"I am."
"Interesting."
"It is your fault."
"How?"
"You keep laughing."
"A very serious crime."
Kel ignored her.
Far away.
The Guardian of Scarder Lake laughed.
The mountain fortress grew brighter as evening approached.
Countless magical lanterns illuminated ancient halls.
Dragon banners fluttered from every tower.
Servants moved continuously.
The atmosphere felt different now.
Expectant.
Anticipatory.
Like the calm before a storm.
Standing beside a balcony overlooking the North.
Kel gazed toward the distant horizon.
Snow-covered mountains stretched endlessly.
The lands of House Rosenfeld.
The North.
His home.
Behind him.
The fortress bustled with activity.
Ahead.
The future waited.
His birthday.
The celebration.
The nobles.
And beyond that—
Aetherial Institute.
The beginning of the next chapter of his life.
Three days had passed surprisingly quickly.
Filled with family.
Laughter.
Conversations.
Training.
Arguments.
Advice.
And memories.
For the first time in many years.
Kel had simply been allowed to exist as Kel.
Not as Count Rosenfeld.
Not as Lord of Frostbound.
Not as Nameless.
Not as a future student.
Simply—
A son.
A brother.
A cousin.
A member of House Rosenfeld.
The thought lingered briefly.
Then slowly faded.
Because tomorrow.
The celebration would begin.
And with it—
The entire Empire would finally meet the young lord who transformed a frozen wasteland into a rising legend.
The North's Heir.
Count Kel von Rosenfeld.