The Ducal House of Praha had a peculiar daughter.
She spoke to no one and showed no interest in anything.
A daughter known not for her sword, but for her art.
ryl Praha, the continent’s greatest artist and a high-level Aura Expert, had returned to the North.
“…Can’t you hear ?”
Her voice was laden with lethargy. No, perhaps it was sothing closer to irritation.
Her snow-white skin was a clear marker of her northern heritage, yet the face she wore to her own sister’s funeral, devoid of any sorrow, seed colder than the biting winds of the North.
“…He is inside.”
“Yes, thank you.”
At my words, she nodded and entered the manor with steps as light as if she were out for a simple stroll.
The funeral hall was shrouded in sorrow.
ryl Praha stepped inside and tilted her head.
Why are they crying?
All humans die. That was a truth even her sister could not escape. Where in that simple fact was there room for an emotion like sadness?
Emotions were born from the stirrings of the heart, and anyone who had reached the level of an Expert should have been able to control them.
Therefore, their weeping was irrational and absurd.
“…I don’t understand,” ryl muttered under her breath.
Just then, her father ca into view.
His eyes were brimming with tears. Seeing him on the verge of breaking into sobs, ryl let out a sigh.
“…You haven’t changed.”
Hearing ryl’s voice, the Duke slowly turned his head.
“…ryl?”
“It’s been a long ti, Father,” ryl continued, her face still a mask of indifference. “Or should I say, Your Grace?”
I followed ryl back into the manor. It wasn’t out of concern, nor was it because I was curious about her. It was simply that I sensed sothing unsettling in her actions.
Sure enough, shouts and yells soon began to echo from within the funeral hall.
“…What did you just say?”
“…”
“I asked you what you just said!”
BOOM!
The Duke roared, his voice laced with a terrifying surge of killing intent. To unleash such malice upon his own daughter… this was a completely different man from the Duke I knew.
However, I was the only one surprised by his reaction.
Everyone else was glaring at ryl Praha with murder in their eyes.
I could hear the sound of gnashing teeth. Had she not been of the Duke’s bloodline, would they not have already drawn their swords and charged her?
What’s going on?
Since I hadn’t followed her in imdiately, I had no idea what had just occurred.
Fortunately, ryl Praha began to explain it herself.
“I told you to surrender.”
Surrender. Was she truly telling the Duke to surrender now?
Though Lin Praha had died of illness, the illness itself was a result of a Demonkin attack. On a small scale, it was the fault of that single Demonkin. On a larger scale, it was the fault of this disgusting war.
And yet, she was telling a father who had lost his daughter to that very war to surrender. It was no different from telling a murder victim’s family to go apologize to the killer.
“You wretched girl, have you finally gone mad!”
The Duke erupted, his Aura flaring violently. He looked as if he might strike ryl down at any mont, and only then did the surrounding knights rush to restrain him.
No matter how insane her words, she was still a legitimate daughter of House Praha. They could not let a father kill his own child.
“Your Grace, please calm yourself!”
“It’s Lady ryl! You know she has always been… unique, Your Grace!”
The attendants and knights barely managed to hold the Duke back.
The Duke clenched his fists, his knuckles straining as he fought to suppress his rage.
“Hah… Your sister is dead. She withered away and died because of an attack by those Demonkin filth! And you dare spew such nonsense?!” he bellowed.
ryl, her expression unchanged, rely tilted her head.
“…What does that have to do with anything?”
“What?”
“It is a pity that my sister died. She would have beco a fine knight, following in your footsteps. The North has lost a good warrior. But… I fail to see how that is a reason not to surrender.”
ryl’s gaze swept across the room as she continued.
“Because my sister died, are you trying to kill the others too?”
“You…!”
The Duke’s eyes were bloodshot as he raised his hand, poised to strike her across the face.
But ryl’s next words froze him in place.
“Besides, isn’t my sister’s death your fault, Father? The failure of the strong to protect the weak is, if one must assign bla, the fault of the strong.”
The words were daggers that plunged straight into the Duke’s heart.
He was speechless.
The guilt that had been festering in his chest finally had a na: failure.
Failure to save Lin.
As the Duke stood there, stunned, ryl tilted her head again.
“Of course, I don’t bla you, Father. The strong devouring the weak is the truth of the world. My sister was simply weak. I, however, would like to end this war before I lose my other sisters, too.”
ryl turned her head to look at Roxha and Lea. They were biting their lips, glaring at her with unconcealed hostility.
“It’s been a while, you two.”
“…You haven’t changed a bit, sister.”
“Thank you for the complint. You two, however, seem a little different.”
ryl’s vacant eyes scanned them as she spoke.
“Is the rchant guild keeping you busy? Your skills have grown rusty. Your Aura has increased, but… at this rate, you’ll never overco the difference in talent. And Lea, you… you’re incredible. Already at the peak of the Master level.”
For the first ti, ryl showed a flicker of surprise, as if she had discovered a rare creature.
“Well, I suppose that’s what happens when you train hard while soone else is lost in her art, isn’t it?”
“Hm, perhaps so.”
ryl nodded at Lea’s sharp retort.
“Still, it’s an amazing achievent. To have co this far already. It’s a level that seems impossible unless soone was feeding you power directly.”
“Hah! Enough. If you’re done talking, why don’t you pay your respects to our sister and leave? I don’t think any of us want to see you right now.”
“Hm? Why?” ryl blinked, genuinely confused.
Lea let out a disbelieving scoff. Seeing her reaction, ryl seed to conclude that she had once again done sothing wrong and nodded.
“Fine, I understand. I’ll leave.”
“…Good. Hurry up and pay your respects—”
“But I’m not finished talking yet,” ryl interjected calmly, her eyes scanning the room.
Then, her gaze landed on .
“Ah, there you are.”
She walked directly toward .
A flustered Lea demanded to know what she was doing, but ryl paid her no mind.
She stopped before and said, “You there. You’re Louis Berg, right?”
“…I am.”
“I think you’ll be more reasonable than my father.” ryl nodded to herself. “Have you any thoughts of surrendering?”
“…To the Demonkin?” I asked, my tone dripping with disbelief.
What on earth had she seen in to think I would be more reasonable than the Duke? If anything, my hatred for the Demonkin was just as fierce as his.
“I’m afraid surrendering will be difficult.”
“Is that so?” ryl blinked. A mont passed. “But I never said anything about surrendering to the Demonkin.”
“…Pardon?”
Not the Demonkin? Then who was she telling us to surrender to?
A strange feeling washed over . The war had been raging. Demonkin sward every corner of the continent, and no one could escape its flas.
And yet… ryl Praha, famous for her art, a re Aura Expert, had sohow arrived here completely unscathed.
She couldn’t have chard the Demonkin with her art, and with a personality like hers, she would never have blended in with refugees.
That ant she must have fought her way here…
…This war was too harsh for a lone Expert to survive.
Even if she had been incredibly lucky, for a rcenary Expert not attached to a regular army to survive this war? The normal reaction would be to despise the war and demand the annihilation of every last Demonkin.
So then… why was ryl Praha acting like this?
The question burned in my mind.
And she answered it with unnerving ease.
“The Duke. Surrender to Duke Artezia. It’s the only way my sisters will live.”
“…Hah.”
I finally understood.
I understood how ryl Praha had survived. And I understood how she had been able to devote herself solely to her art. It all beca terrifyingly clear.
“…You’ve thrown in with the Duke?”
“Thrown in? He was my patron. He always has been.”
“And you’re aware that he is His Grace’s political enemy?”
“Is that important?”
“…You’re insane.”
I was finally beginning to grasp the truth of ryl Praha’s existence.
She was mad. No, she had lived her entire life in a state of madness. Nothing mattered to her except her art.
Even her supposed concern for her sisters was nothing more than her parroting words Duke Artezia had fed her.
She felt nothing at all.
“…I will kill Duke Artezia with my own hands.”
I fought to suppress the emotion rising in my throat and spoke to ryl in a steady voice.
“…A pity.”
ryl sighed and drew her sword.
“What do you think you’re—”
I had barely managed to choke back my anger and speak when ryl pushed a red jewel into her mouth.
The red jewel slid down her throat.
Instantly, her appearance began to change. Her white mourning clothes and pale face took on an otherworldly quality. She looked like one of the monsters from the East my master used to speak of.
“…Have you beco a Demonkin?”
“I was never treated like a human to begin with,” ryl murmured in her transford state.
Then.
WHOOOOSH!
A frigid gale began to tear through the North.
“I will relay the Duke’s words. From this mont, the Ducal House of Artezia invades the Empire. We will destroy this irrational power and place a new being upon the Emperor’s throne. And that being will be , Duke Artezia.”
The snow began to fall harder, whipping into a blizzard.
The people gathered in the funeral hall drew their swords in unison.
The Duke did the sa. Though he still hadn’t recovered from the psychological shock, he looked determined to stop another of his daughters from committing a terrible sin.
“ryl!”
“…That is all. I have said what I ca to say. So, co at .”
ryl had beco a Snow Woman, a monster from the East.
The Empress of Snow.
A storm howled in the heavens.
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