From a Broken Engagement to the Northern Grand Duke's Son-in-Law

Was this the effect of Demonic Corruption?

I bit my lip, watching the life drain from Lin Praha.

It was the Aspect of Solamio, the Viscount of Sloth: Demonic Corruption. Its demonic mist transformed any being it touched into a Demonkin.

Even the Grand Duke, who had only a trace of demonic energy, had required the Pope's own divinity for his cleansing. While his willingness to sacrifice his life force was a factor, the ordeal was primarily to expel the corruption.

If that was his trial, what would it take to restore the woman before me?

Pope-level, at a minimum. No, it would take more—the divinity of a Saint who had ascended to the papacy.

Did such a person even exist on this continent?

I shook my head, my expression bleak. It was doubtful anyone on the continent possessed Pope-level divinity, let alone something greater. If such a person existed, the Demonkin would never have been allowed to rampage like this.

“Is there no way to treat her?” the Grand Duke asked, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly.

“…I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. I wanted to save her as much as he did, but there was nothing to be done. They could call me a saint all they wanted; it didn’t make me one.

My Aura wasn’t divinity. It was a bane against the demonic. It opposed the demonic—nothing more.

I sighed again, my gaze fixed on Lin Praha as she gasped for breath.

“…Can you endure it?”

“Heh… Endure it…?”

Lin Praha gave a hollow laugh, her eyes drifting toward the canvas ceiling of the tent as if searching for a memory. After a moment, her lips parted.

“Do you know the hardest moment of my life?”

“…”

“It wasn’t when I lost my right arm. It wasn’t even when my body was rotting from demonic energy.” Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on nοvelfire.net

Her gaze shifted, landing on the empty space beside me. “It was when I saw Lea. When that child, twisted into a monstrous form, endured her agony in silence. That was the moment my heart truly broke.”

I could say nothing. The emotion in her eyes wasn’t regret, but relief.

“I was so relieved,” she whispered. “That you saved my sister. That you gave her hope. I was so, so relieved.”

Guilt lanced through me. I hadn’t healed Lea out of kindness. It was for revenge, and revenge alone. I had used her as a pawn for my own ends. The outcome didn’t change that. I didn’t deserve her gratitude.

But Lin Praha, oblivious to my inner turmoil, continued.

“You ask if I’m afraid? Not at all. I don’t feel a shred of fear. My father has returned, and my sister is happy… how could I be afraid? My only regret is that I could not protect the North for longer.”

A wet cough wracked her body, spraying blood across her lips.

“Ah… my body is failing again. I need to rest. Would you mind leaving me for a while?”

“…Yes.”

“Heh, thank you. And Father.”

“…What is it?”

“Thank you for returning safely. It’s good to see you again.”

“…You’re not well—Never mind. I will come again.”

With those clipped words, the Grand Duke swept from the tent. I followed him out into the cold air.

Once outside, he asked again, his voice low.

“…Is there truly no other way?”

“Not at the moment. I will think on it, but I can’t make any promises.”

“…I see.”

The Grand Duke let out a long, slow breath, a bitter smile touching his lips.

“Right. I’ve kept you for nothing. You should get some rest as well. We return to the battlefield in three hours.”

“…Understood.”

Leaving the duke to his somber thoughts, I headed for the soldiers’ barracks. I needed to recover what little stamina I could.

* * *

The Grand Duke had said three hours, but I woke after only one.

Two hours to spare.

Two hours. A fleeting moment, but for me, it was everything.

It was time to think. Time to finally awaken my Mindscape.

I sat cross-legged and closed my eyes. Since reaching the rank of Grand Master, I could observe the deepest parts of myself with startling clarity—from the Aura Heart—a knight’s core—to the stigmata the goddess had left behind, even the precise flow of my Aura.

I could see it all as if it were laid bare before me.

Deeper than ever before.

I focused, pushing past the surface and into the core of my power.

Whoosh—

A white Aura, carrying the scent of camellias. This was the face of my power, the layer other Grand Masters might have seen and used to awaken their Mindscape.

But something about it felt hollow. Wrong.

…This is supposed to be my Mindscape?

Impossible.

I shook my head. A Mindscape, as the Grand Duke and my master had explained it, was born from the confluence of one’s experiences, enlightenment, and the true essence of their Aura.

Was my essence a camellia?

No.

It couldn’t be.

The camellia was a property inherited from my master’s Aura, an echo of his own Mindscape. I had only learned to imitate it.

While it was now a part of my power, it was a stretch to believe a flower I’d never even seen could form the foundation of my soul.

Deeper.

I wrestled with the core of my Aura, pushing further inward.

Whoosh—

The light brightened. The scent of camellias grew stronger.

Whoosh—

Still nothing but white light and flowers.

I dove deeper, again and again… yet it was as if my own power was lying to me, insisting this was all there was.

…Is it really?

Just as doubt began to take root…

Whoosh—

The scene shattered.

The background was still white, but there was no scent of camellias here, no petals on the wind.

Where is this?

I searched my memories as I confronted the essence of my Aura.

A vast, barren land. A parched wasteland where nothing could live stretched out beneath my feet. Snowflakes, smelling of blood, drifted from a colorless sky.

I knew, instinctively, that this was a part of my Mindscape.

My feet moved of their own accord.

Clank.

A great iron ball materialized, chained to my ankle. A crown of thorns settled upon my head like a halo. My clothes were stripped away, revealing a body covered in scars.

As if branding me a sinner.

“Kill the sinner!”

The roar of a crowd echoed from nowhere and everywhere.

I raised my head and found its source.

Duke Artezia.

He sat upon a throne, looking down at me. The details were wrong, but the truth remained: even in the landscape of my own soul, I was fated to suffer at his hands.

…So this is my Mindscape.

I met his gaze with a bitter smile.

CRUNCH—

A colossal cross slammed onto my back, a crushing weight.

It was heavy. Heavy enough to make a mockery of my Grand Master status. This simple piece of wood was impossibly, soul-crushingly heavy.

I gritted my teeth and forced a step forward. It was a futile act, I knew, but I wanted to kill him, even if only here.

And in that instant.

Whoosh!

The world tore away, and I was back in the barracks.

I gasped, my heart hammering against my ribs. It had been a glimpse, nothing more. But I knew one thing. A single word that defined this place. The first word of my Mindscape’s name.

Thorn…

This was my Mindscape. This was the path I had to walk.

* * *

Three hours passed in a blur.

Lancelot, Lea, and the rest of the unit headed for the front lines, their faces visibly brighter.

“Ah… I feel human again.”

“Still exhausted, but at least I can move.”

I nodded to them. While they were no Grand Masters, they were warriors who had reached the Master realm. Their bodies were far more resilient than those of ordinary men.

Everyone is here except Hans.

I thought of Hans, still laid up in the infirmary, and turned away. Before us, an army of tens of thousands of Demonkin swarmed across the frozen plains.

“Go.”

Creeak.

I drew my bowstring taut.

A moment later, my arrow slammed into the center of the enemy formation, detonating in a massive explosion.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

That was the signal. The Northern army surged forward.

“Raaaaaaagh!”

“The High Elder is with us!”

With a thunderous roar, the war for the North began anew.

* * *

Clang! Clang!

The familiar sounds of battle rang out. The Knight Commander of the North gritted his teeth and swung his sword. The situation was the same as yesterday, yet entirely different.

His blade sheared an ogre’s head from its shoulders.

“Hah… This is going to be the death of me.”

The Knight Commander exhaled, his breath pluming in the frigid air. After months of ceaseless warfare, his body was screaming in protest.

At this rate, I’ll be the first to fall.

He sighed, yet the corners of his lips quirked into a smile. The war was the same, but the nature of the battle had changed completely.

His eyes swept across the field.

<Divine Beast Invocation>

A giant white tiger and a soaring dragon tore through the Demonkin ranks.

<Ice Age>

A wave of frost erupted from a sword’s tip, flash-freezing every Demonkin nearby.

<Tempest Spear>

<Lindal’s First Form: Wrath>

<Frostbloom>

A spear of storms, a flower of ice, a brutal sword art, the divine power of a saintess—all of them unleashed their might, slaughtering the Demonkin forces.

“…Incredible.”

The Knight Commander let out a dry laugh. They were magnificent. In every battle before, he had felt like they were being toyed with. Now, they were the ones doing the toying.

Just seven of them.

This was the miracle they had wrought.

And among them, he is surely the greatest.

The Knight Commander’s gaze shifted to a lone figure on the flank.

He stood with a bow, loosing arrows by the thousand. Each one, seemingly imbued with divinity, incinerated the Demonkin it touched. For any that managed to get close, he met them with combat arts that granted a swift death.

He was in no way inferior to the other Grand Masters. No, it was no exaggeration to say he was overwhelming them.

And to think he was just an Aura Expert.

In less than five years, an Aura Expert had returned as a Grand Master. Was he not the very definition of impossible?

I’m glad he’s on our side.

The Knight Commander breathed a sigh of relief and turned his attention back to the fight. The Demonkin army, which had seemed to number in the tens of thousands, was now down to a few hundred. At this rate, victory was certain.

His face filled with hope, he tightened his grip on his sword.

In that instant, a sickening pressure washed over the battlefield.

…Ah.

The Knight Commander’s eyes widened in horror as he stared past the fighting. He had felt this before.

Overwhelming power.

A sinister, cloying demonic energy.

A being who could change the tide of battle single-handedly.

…Myu.

The Countess of Slaughter had arrived.