Never Die Villain

"Halt!"

The command echoed from atop the wooden gatehouse, prompting the lead coachman to pull on the reins until the convoy gradually came to a stop before the checkpoint.

Several soldiers stationed along the palisade looked down from the watchtowers while a pair of gate guards approached the front carriage, holding spears against their shoulders.

"State your business."

The coachman had barely opened his mouth when one of the guards caught sight of the silver wolf crest engraved upon the carriage door.

"...The Grand Ducal crest?"

They immediately stood at attention.

"W-We weren’t informed that a member of the Grand Ducal House would be returning today."

"We departed from the capital yesterday," one of the accompanying knights answered as he rode his horse forward. "Open the gate."

"Yes, sir!"

The guard saluted before turning toward the gatehouse.

"Raise the barrier! The Grand Ducal House is passing through!"

A loud horn echoed across the checkpoint.

Chains rattled as the heavy timber barrier was slowly lifted, allowing the road into Severye to reopen.

The soldiers stepped aside, lowering their heads as the Belozersky convoy resumed its journey.

"I’ve heard stories..." Sherry murmured absentmindedly as she looked out the carriage window. "They say life in the North is rather... bleak."

"....?"

"Ah!" She immediately turned toward Ilya, her eyes widening in panic. "N-No, that’s not what I meant, Master Ilya! I wasn’t saying your home is—"

"It is. The North is bleak."

"Uhm..."

Sherry swallowed deeply.

Ilya rested his chin against one hand and glanced outside, where the snow-covered landscape revealed itself beyond the road.

"That’s why I was never particularly fond of returning home."

"Ah..." Sherry lowered her gaze. "...Of course."

The snow grew thicker with every passing kilometer.

Due to the sheer size of Severye, no single city could hope to govern the entire Northern Krai alone.

The Belozerskys ruled from the Grand Ducal capital, but authority over the rest of the north was delegated to the subsidiary branches of the family, each entrusted with governing one of Severye’s major territories.

Together, they formed the backbone of the Northern Krai, ensuring that even its most distant settlements remained under Belozersky rule.

Naturally, every subsidiary branch was led by an elder of House Belozersky.

As the family expanded over the centuries, so too did the number of branches, with former Grand Dukes’ sons establishing their own households across Severye until the family had spread throughout the entire Northern Krai.

By the present generation, the family had become so extensive that even the elders themselves occasionally needed to consult the family records to trace exactly how they were related, though such things mattered little.

A Belozersky was a Belozersky, even if they no longer shared the same family name. Titles changed, branches divided, and surnames occasionally disappeared through marriage or inheritance, but blood remained blood, and every elder ultimately governed their territory in the Grand Duke’s name.

As for the younger generation, they were, for the most part, Ilya’s relatives.

The heirs of each subsidiary branch had grown up alongside one another since childhood, gathering at the Grand Ducal estate for family assemblies, military ceremonies, and seasonal festivals whenever circumstances permitted.

Whether they addressed one another as cousins, brothers, or sisters mattered little.

Within House Belozersky, they were all family, and one day, many of them would inherit the responsibility of governing the vast frozen lands of Severye under the banner of the Grand Duke.

"Young Master, we’ve arrived."

"Yes."

After another hour of travel, the convoy finally reached the Margraviate of Volnograd.

As the southernmost territory of Severye, Volnograd served as the gateway between the empire’s central provinces and the frozen north, welcoming merchants, officials, and travelers long before they ever reached the Grand Ducal capital.

Every caravan heading deeper into Severye passed through Volnograd, making it one of the busiest territories in the entire north despite its harsh winters and ever-present snow.

Even the Belozersky convoy came to a stop.

Although the carriages carried enough food, blankets, and provisions to last the journey, there were certain necessities that could only be replenished along the way.

Fresh horses were the most important among them. No matter how well they were cared for, expecting the same team to pull a heavily loaded convoy from the capital all the way to the Grand Ducal capital would have been unreasonable, and every major territory maintained its own stables specifically for travelers continuing farther north.

The coachmen immediately began unhitching the exhausted horses while the accompanying knights took the opportunity to inspect the wagons.

Winter roads demanded constant preparation, and no experienced traveler was foolish enough to pass up the chance to replace worn horses before venturing deeper into Severye, where towns grew farther apart and help became increasingly difficult to find.

As for Ilya, he stepped down from the carriage and stretched his shoulders before turning back toward the open door.

Then, he extended a hand toward Sherry.

"Sherry," he called. "Wouldn’t you like to look around?"

"H-Huh?"

Sherry looked at his outstretched hand before peeking past him toward the streets outside.

"I-Is... is that alright?" she asked. "Shouldn’t I stay with the carriage in case you need something?"

"The knights are here," Ilya replied. "Besides, if anything happens to the carriage, they’ll handle it long before you or I could."

"Th-That’s true..."

Sherry hesitated for another moment before taking his hand and stepping down from the carriage.

The moment both of her feet touched the snow-covered ground, she looked around with the curiosity of someone visiting Severye for the very first time, while trying not to appear too obvious about it.

"Come on," Ilya said as he started walking. "Since we’re stopping anyway, we might as well make the most of it."

"Y-Yes!"

Sherry hurried after him. Everything around her seemed unfamiliar, from the wooden buildings capped with steep roofs to the people wrapped in thick fur-lined coats.

Even the scent of the air was different, reminiscent of burning firewood, leather, and freshly cut pine.

Although Ilya had spent the past several months in the capital, Severye was still the place where he had grown up.

Whenever the Grand Duke traveled between territories to inspect fortresses, meet with the subsidiary branches, or attend seasonal gatherings, Ilya often accompanied the entourage.

Before he had even enrolled at the academy, there were few major cities in the Northern Krai he had not already visited at least once.

"This way."

"H-Huh? Ah, y-yes!"

Sherry quickly caught up as Ilya turned onto a quieter street.

Unlike the capital, where merchants eagerly called out to every passerby, the people of Volnograd mostly kept to themselves.

Shopkeepers swept the snow from their storefronts, blacksmiths continued hammering away without so much as glancing at strangers, and the occasional greeting exchanged between townsfolk was little more than a simple nod before each returned to their work.

"It’s very quiet..."

"The people of Severye don’t waste many words," Ilya explained. "When winter lasts half the year, you learn to speak only when there’s something worth saying."

Sherry nodded.

"...I think I like that."