Chapter 51

Predatory Instincts (2)

◆Curse of Bitter Cold[P]

: Produces a [Supernatural Thermal Energy Deficit] within the cursed target that gradually increases in intensity and range. As time passes, the thermal energy deficit expands toward [Infinity], triggering [Curse Effects] according to the energy deficit.

This was information about the Authority Seraphia possessed as the Sovereign of Bitter Cold.

Its assessed rank was [P], meaning Primal. It stood several tiers above Dragon Rage Explosion[E], whose rank meant Epic. It was, quite literally, on another level.

But it was somewhat different from the bitter cold I knew as Seraphia's Authority. Predatory Instincts[S] described it as a curse, not an Authority.

In that sense, all this talk of a [Thermal Energy Deficit] was also somewhat different from my understanding of cold.

'Come to think of it, the Archmage did say cold doesn't actually exist.'

The allied army's Archmage had once said that, from a magical perspective, the concept of cold could not exist. We merely felt cold when heat moved from a warmer place to a cooler one. The Archmage had added that the very notion of cold heat was a contradiction.

Thus, the Archmage had defined Seraphia's Authority not as simple cold, but as a power that annihilated a target's heat and energy.

That rendered its supposed weakness to ordinary fire meaningless. Mere fire held no elemental advantage over her Authority. Her power could drain and annihilate any thermal energy.

There was a reason the Sovereign of Bitter Cold had been called [The Allied Army’s Greatest Enemy] in my previous life. There was a reason Ian had lost his left arm.

But the Seraphia of the present could not control that Authority.

◆Seraphia is suffering from [Curse Effects].

According to Predatory Instincts[S], Seraphia was currently suffering from [Curse Effects]. And those effects were enough to make even me recoil.

==<Curse of Bitter Cold[P]>==

◆[Physical Weakening] - The cursed target's maximum HP continually decreases due to the bitter cold. HP lost in this manner cannot be recovered naturally, and all stats decrease in proportion to the lost HP.

◆[Freezing Inducement] - The cursed target faces an increased risk of entering a frozen state. At regular intervals, parts of the body freeze, restricting movement in those areas or rendering them unusable.

◆[Mental Confusion] - The cursed target constantly undergoes mental trials due to the extreme cold. These trials inflict status conditions such as disorientation, cognitive impairment, unconsciousness, and visual and auditory hallucinations.

◆[Sensory Paralysis] - The cursed target's sensory nerves gradually freeze and become paralyzed by the cold. Touch is lost first, followed by smell and taste. Hearing then disappears, and finally sight is cut off, resulting in the complete loss of all five senses.

... For a moment, I was speechless.

I could hardly believe these were all [Curse Effects] Seraphia was suffering right now. It was a miracle she was still alive.

More accurately, she was dying.

Judging by the description, the more she used her Authority, the worse the [Curse Effects] became. It seemed using it this time had pushed her past the limit of what she could endure.

"Please... hold on just a little longer...!"

Unable to bear watching any longer, Kai scooped Seraphia into his arms and sped down the snowy mountain. He was so fast that he had already dwindled to a dot.

It was hard to believe he had a potentially fatal wound where his side had been torn open. Then again, what else could I expect from a man who lived and died for Seraphia?

Well, anyway.

"Looks like she hasn't awakened as the Sovereign of Bitter Cold."

It seemed there was no need to kill her right this instant.

By then, Kai had vanished from sight entirely.

I looked around at the spectacle surrounding me. The monster legion filled my field of vision, standing motionless like ice sculptures. But a closer look revealed hideous bodies that looked as though they had all been put through a grinder.

"... What a waste."

A considerable waste. How much money could I have made selling all of them?

Of course, since I hadn't used Predation[S+] on the legion's individual monsters, I couldn't sell them as meat. But I could have sold by-products like their hides and bones. Those were worth a considerable amount.

Now that they had been utterly shredded, though, their market value was zero.

"Can't use the lycanthrope's carcass either."

The same applied to the lycanthrope. Having taken a direct hit from Seraphia's Authority, it was in even worse shape than the legion's monsters.

Its steel-like muscles had all burst. Every blood vessel in its body had been torn apart. It was so badly ruined that there wasn't a single by-product worth salvaging.

"It would've been worth tens of millions of gold at least."

It was as if that enormous sum had gone straight through a grinder.

Still, I didn't blame Seraphia. If she hadn't used her Authority, the lycanthrope would have escaped.

"I suppose I should count myself lucky I managed to salvage the heart."

Using Predation[S+] on the heart mattered more to me than the carcass. The genetic material of the Authority bestowed by the Sovereign of Beasts was something I couldn't obtain for tens of millions of gold—or even hundreds of billions.

I could confidently say its astronomical value was beyond any monetary measure.

So rather than blame Seraphia, I should have been thanking her.

"Nothing for it."

Swallowing my regret, I headed down the snowy mountain.

* * *

Immediately after the lycanthrope was slain, the news threw the county into an uproar. The soldiers of Whitewolf Castle were the first to hear.

"So killing that Gelu Drake wasn't just luck."

"Honestly, I didn't even believe he'd done it."

"Me neither. I thought Sir Kai had done all the work and he'd just stolen the credit."

"Exactly. It wouldn't have been the first time."

Adrian, the count's wastrel son. His past abuses were enough to make them shudder.

"But did you see Lord Adrian fighting the monster legion this time?"

"I did."

"Is there a soldier here who didn't?"

Every soldier in Whitewolf Castle had gone out to fight. That was why they understood.

They had experienced firsthand the terror of the monster legion surging toward them like an avalanche, its overwhelming numbers and momentum. More keenly than anyone, they could appreciate what it had taken for Adrian to stand his ground and charge straight into its midst.

"Know what I thought then?"

"What?"

"Somehow... I felt like I could follow Lord Adrian into battle and stake my life on him, if that's the kind of man he is."

"Suddenly sprouted some loyalty, have you?"

"... Apparently. I never thought I'd feel this way."

"Agreed. I feel the same, honestly."

After all, this wasn't the first time. Adrian had ordered the soldiers back when they faced the Gelu Drake, too.

Against both the Gelu Drake and the legion, he had never hesitated to sacrifice himself for his soldiers. And it had most certainly not been mere reckless bravado.

"The way he moved was unreal."

"... I wondered if he was even human."

"Seriously, is he human? Isn't he a monster?"

Especially that blast of flame at the end. The Dragon Rage Explosion that had burned away the landscape was truly—

"... Unreal. Absolutely unreal."

"I could hardly believe my own eyes."

"Seriously, is he human? Isn't he a dragon?"

So now they could believe it. Adrian had slain the lycanthrope, the legion's leader. This time, they could believe he had defeated that monster without a shred of doubt.

And what was more, even though he had only just slain the lycanthrope, there he was now.

HUFF! HUFF! HUFF!

As always, Adrian was out at the Frost Trial Grounds, training his body.

"What part of that looks like a wastrel?"

"Maybe all wastrels these days are—"

"—Like that? You think?"

"Guess not, huh?"

"Of course not. If Lord Adrian were the bare minimum for a wastrel... whew. What kind of world would that be?"

By now, the image of him as a wastrel had vanished completely from the soldiers' minds.

"Instructor Leverton."

"... Y-yes?"

"Where would someone like Lord Adrian stand in the mercenary world?"

"Oh, right. You used to be a mercenary, didn't you, Instructor?"

"So? How would Lord Adrian measure up?"

Mercenaries were divided into seven ranks.

Iron, for those who had only just received their mercenary tags.

Bronze, for those who could properly be called mercenaries.

Silver, for those with over a year of experience.

Gold, where they began to be called veterans.

That was considered the ordinary limit—the highest someone without any particular talent or gift could rise through effort alone.

Leverton had been one such Gold mercenary. Unable to break through to Platinum, he had accepted the previous count's offer and become a training instructor here in Whitewolf county.

"W-well... I'm not sure?"

... He had no way to judge. Gold was the limit of the world he had experienced.

Platinum, Emerald, Diamond. Leverton had never seen or experienced the world beyond his own rank. To him, they were all simply on another level.

"I-I don't know...?"

And so he didn't know. But if pressed for an answer, well...

Though it was a world he had never seen or experienced, something—perhaps intuition, perhaps the eye he had developed while training soldiers—told him Adrian could rise beyond Platinum, Emerald, and Diamond to become a mercenary of Master rank.

And perhaps he could even surpass Master and become the Mercenary King.

... But could that really be true?

Who could even imagine it? A hopelessly untalented man who couldn't control a scrap of mana becoming the Mercenary King? Say that at the mercenary guild and you'd get punched in the fucking mouth.

Yet Adrian had slain a Gelu Drake, held back a monster legion alone, and finally defeated its leader.

HUFF! HUFF! HUFF!

Above all, watching that outlandish physical training only made Leverton more certain—

"Wow... He's incredible. He really is."

"The more I watch, the more impressed I am."

The way the soldiers looked at Adrian had changed unmistakably.

* * *

The soldiers weren't the only ones whose view of Adrian had changed. The maids of the lord's castle now looked at him in an entirely different light as well.

They were clustered together at one side of the Frost Trial Grounds.

"He's running while carrying that? Wow...!"

"I don't think I could even lift that iron equipment once."

All of them were utterly amazed by Adrian.

Sweat, in particular, was pouring off him like rain. Watching his drenched body, one of the maids murmured quietly,

"He'll take a bath after training, won't he?"

"Of course. He's sweating so much, and he's covered in dirt."

"Then, you know..."

The maid leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper.

"Won't he need someone to attend him in the bath?"

A brief silence fell. Then her fellow maids blushed.

"W-what are you saying?!"

"You! You! Have you gone mad?!"

"No, it was just a thought. Lord Adrian has never had anyone attend him in the bath, anyway."

"T-that's true...?"

"Even when he was living so dissolutely, he never let anyone help him bathe."

More precisely, he had scrupulously avoided any situation that might involve sex.

He might have changed a great deal now, but only a month ago, Adrian had still been known as a wastrel. He had spent every day immersed in gambling and debauchery. Yet, oddly enough, he had never slept with a woman.

He might slap the maids across the face. He might harass women. But he had never actually laid a sexual hand on them.

No one knew why, but he had never once crossed that particular line.

... Of course, he had crossed every other line with spectacular abandon.

Well, anyway.

"But..."

A younger maid quietly added,

"What if he really does say he needs us?"

"Whaaat?"

"After training that hard, he won't have any strength left. Besides, he specifically told us to wait here today..."

... Now that she mentioned it, that was true.

Everyone's faces turned bright red at once.

"S-stop! You're making me imagine strange things!"

The maids hurriedly lowered their heads. Yet their fingers kept twisting the hems of their skirts.

"... Instead of all this, should I just offer first?"

"Offer? Offer what?"

"To attend him in the bath."

"What?!"

"You! Honestly!"

"What will you do if something really happens?!"

"Oh, it won't. He never did anything even when he was a wastrel. Why would he start now?"

"W-well, that's true, but..."

"You never know with people."

"Exactly! Who would have imagined Lord Adrian changing like that?"

"Then, well... Ahem."

The maid cleared her throat, blushing faintly. Then she cast a sidelong glance at Adrian.

"Maybe... I wouldn't mind something happening, just once?"

"Aah! Listen to her!!"

"Eek! You're mad! Absolutely mad!!"

"Look at her blushing over her own words! You pictured it, didn't you? Didn't you?"

"I-I did not!!"

"Oh, please! You're bright red!"

"Oh, stop it, stop it! I'm just saying a girl might have a thought like that once!"

"Once? Your face says you've had it a hundred times already!"

"Aaaaaah!!"

By now, the squealing maids all had flushed cheeks.

"But... Lord Adrian can't hear us, can he?"

"Oh my! Oh my!"

"What if he's actually listening?!"

Every maid clapped a hand over her mouth. Then, as if on cue, they all looked toward Adrian.

"... He's so absorbed in training. He won't hear us."

"R-right...?"

They sighed in relief, but continued their animated chatter with their voices lowered as far as possible.

And so, to the soldiers and maids, Adrian was no longer a wastrel.

He was a lord they could follow with their lives on the line. A name that set hearts fluttering for no particular reason.

Yet even as their gazes toward him brimmed with respect and excitement—

"More importantly, about Lady Seraphia..."

"Yes?"

"I heard she was badly hurt this time... Is she all right?"

"... No. She still hasn't woken up."

"I'm afraid something terrible might happen if this keeps up."

Worry and anxiety for Seraphia followed close behind.