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HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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Chapter 54: The Grand Duke of the North
Two days after Cron invaded Klaus, Calyx kept his word and withdrew his forces from the territory.
True to his promise, he only took the agreed-upon wheat and a compensation sum—three times the original deposit.
There was no looting.
In fact, before leaving, he followed Nova’s strategy and took an unexpected step:
“Distribute part of the compensation money to the people of Klaus.”
Calyx spread part of the compensation money among Klaus' citizens.
Officially, it was reparation for the fear and chaos his army had caused.
But Nova had three deeper reasons for suggesting this:
First, to win the hearts of the people.
If a so-called invading army not only refrains from harm but gives out money—and if the people learn this army belongs to Cron—the tide of public sentiment would naturally shift in Cron’s favor.
Second, to shield the identities of traitors.
Many in Klaus had accepted money from Cron and cooperated in secret.
If only a handful received payments, they’d stand out. But if hundreds or thousands were paid, identifying who actually betrayed the land would become nearly impossible.
And third, the most practical concern—transport costs.
There simply weren’t enough people to carry both the wheat and the gold.
Hiring more workers would’ve cost more than it was worth.
In Nova’s eyes, throwing money into Klaus was more profitable than lugging it back.
“No way…”
“They’re giving us money?”
The citizens of Klaus were stunned.
An army they believed would plunder and pillage had not laid a finger on them.
Instead, they handed out silver and left.
They’d heard whispers about Silver Dragon of Cron before…
But most dismissed it as a fairy tale.
Now, faced with generosity that defied logic, the people were genuinely moved.
Their own lords had stripped them of food and stashed grain away in hidden storehouses.
But this invader? He gave freely. He had breadth, he had grace.
“Hail Lord Calyx of Cron!”
“The Silver Dragon of Cron is the best!”
Watching from the mansion, Roan and his son Royce took in the scene.
Roan couldn’t hide his complicated expression.
“So… Cron’s name rings louder than ours in our own domain…”
“Father! We should rip out all their traitorous tongues!”
Crack!
Roan shot his son a glare sharp enough to draw blood.
Royce, startled, recoiled like a scolded pup.
Roan let out a weary sigh.
“Royce, watch carefully. What you see now… that is how a ruler wins the hearts of the people.”
Calyx had used the very indemnity he won from Klaus to buy the hearts of Klaus' people.
Roan couldn’t help but admire the brilliance of it.
Even if it wasn’t Calyx’s idea—perhaps it was that mysterious Nova’s—it didn’t matter.
What mattered was that Calyx chose that strategy over greed.
Even a virtuous lord struggles to resist temptation when gold is within reach.
But Calyx had set aside his self-interest. How?
Roan found himself growing more and more curious about the man.
After this incident, Roan believed that his role had been unofficially demoted—from lord of the Klaus domain to its steward.
If he wanted to survive, he’d have to do more than just appease Cron.
He’d have to keep a close eye on public opinion.
Roan, more than anyone, knew that once a person tasted honey, they’d never go back to bitterness.
And now, thinking of raising Royce into a ruler who could actually understand all this—who could be a real lord—Roan let out another deep sigh.
＊ ＊ ＊
At that very moment, news from Klaus was already circulating among the leaders of various factions:
“Klaus attempted a food assault on Dreihart and was taken in a single night. Cron took only the grain and left.”
The heads of each faction, upon hearing the news, fell deep into thought.
Princess Selenia, however, was quite pleased.
“As expected of Calyx! This’ll shut Uncle up for a while.”
She genuinely liked what she heard.
The North was rich in monsters and rare resources unique to its harsh climate—but it was chronically short on food.
Because of this, her uncle—the Grand Duke of the North—had been slowly pushing southward toward the food-abundant East.
Neither aligned with the Imperial Prince’s faction nor with Selenia's, the Grand Duke had been quietly encroaching on eastern lands, bit by bit.
To Selenia, his actions were like a thorn in her side.
But Calyx’s latest move had put a wrench in those plans.
Now, if the Grand Duke wished to keep heading south, only one unaligned territory remained—Klaus.
But Klaus was now, effectively, half under Cron’s control.
Even though Cron hadn’t touched the place otherwise, and Klaus had sent a letter to the Platinum Council taking full responsibility for the incident, who would actually believe that?
It was more likely that Klaus had struck a deal with Cron in exchange for protection.
From the Grand Duke’s perspective, Klaus was no longer an easy target.
If Cron had razed the place, they could've used it as justification for an invasion.
But Cron left peacefully, having done nothing.
If the Grand Duke were to attack now, it would just hand Cron the moral high ground under the pretense of defending an ally.
And just like that, with a single move, Cron had ended the Grand Duke’s little game of raiding unattended eastern territories.
Now, if the Grand Duke wanted to expand his power, he’d have to risk a confrontation—with the Prince, the Princess, or Cron.
That fact alone delighted Selenia.
What she had wanted done, Calyx had pulled off effortlessly.
“But Princess Selenia… is it really okay to let Cron grow this powerful?”
“It’s fine! Calyx is on ‘our’ side.”
Selenia saw Calyx as practically aligned with her faction.
Not officially, not yet—but she had plans.
At the right moment, she intended to revive the marriage proposal that had once stalled.
Naturally, that marriage would be between her and Calyx.
Once Calyx became her husband, every piece on the board would fall into place.
Lumiel, standing nearby, had some concerns, but remembering the way Calyx had risked everything to save the princess, she simply nodded in quiet agreement.
Meanwhile, the Prince—who had also been reviewing a map of the Empire—was thinking along the same lines as Selenia.
“It seems Uncle’s expansion into the East ends here.”
“That’s a relief, Your Highness.”
The Prince and his confidant, Duran, were of the same mind as the Princess.
After all, the Grand Duke commanded the northern powerhouses—a serious concern for the Prince, politically.
It wasn’t yet time for a head-on confrontation, but they had wanted to halt the expansion.
And now, Cron has done it for them.
Even so, the Prince couldn’t view the situation entirely favorably.
“The problem is… whose side is Cron really on?”
“Indeed, Your Highness.”
The Prince had already received intelligence suggesting that Selenia had made contact with Cron.
He didn’t know the full extent of what had happened—her Awakening or the large-scale assault by the Bloodkin—because she had falsified the records to conceal it.
But still, he had a strong sense that something significant had occurred.
“Still, when we spoke to Azelle, she insisted Cron remained neutral.”
Through Azelle, the Prince’s faction had been gathering intel on Cron.
But Azelle wasn’t exactly cut out to be a spy, and Cron had practically begged them to take the information off his hands—which made it all the more suspicious.
There was a very real chance the whole thing was orchestrated, meant to sow confusion with false intel.
“Duran. Have you still not figured out what Calyx wants?”
“My apologies, Your Highness. Calyx hasn’t shown a single opening.”
After receiving the Prince’s command, Duran had thoroughly investigated what Calyx might desire.
What he found, however, was baffling—Calyx Cron fit the image of a textbook noble out of a fairy tale.
He didn’t indulge in luxury. He spent his own wealth for the welfare of his people. He didn’t chase after women.
He made no move toward the capital, showed no hunger for power or honor.
Duran was at a loss—he simply could not discern what Calyx was after.
The Prince said, calmly:
“It’s fine. If we’re struggling to figure him out, so are the others. We just have to uncover it before they do.”
“Understood, Your Highness.”
While the Prince and Princess were collecting their thoughts in the heart of the Empire, events were unfolding far to the north, amid the raging blizzards.
The bitter cold of the North never lifted—not even from the highest office of the mightiest man in the region.
In the center of that office stood a massive map of the Empire designed like a chessboard, each faction and territory represented by its own carved piece.
And he stood there, staring down at it without rest.
The deep lines etched into his brow and the razor-sharp eyes beneath told the story of countless victories won in battle, of a man hardened in blood.
His once golden hair had faded beneath the northern snowstorms into a streaked silver.
Even his neatly trimmed beard was sharp as a blade, adding to the quiet force of his presence.
The cloak on his shoulders, made from the hide of the Northern Gale Bear—worn only by the greatest warrior in the North—silently marked his authority.
He was none other than the Emperor’s brother—『Duke Arke North Novarens』, the one known across the lands as『The Guardian of the North』.
“My lord, you seem troubled.”
Said Pelagon, Duke Arke North’s right-hand man and commander of the Northern Guard.
To that, the Duke smiled and replied—
“Trouble’s for people like Sword and Lily.”
He was referring, of course, to his niece and nephew—the Prince and Princess.
Lighting a large cigar made from northern-grown tobacco, he leaned back slightly.
“Pelagon, truth is... I’m enjoying this.”
In the past, Arke North had been defeated by his own brother, the current Emperor, in what was called the Game of Thrones.
As penance, he had been ordered to govern the North—and he had done so faithfully, growing stronger with each passing year.
To him, the Game of Thrones wasn’t a loss, but a festival.
A celebration where the strong wield their power freely.
A time when the world worked exactly as it should.
Back then, no one had enjoyed that game more than Arke North.
And now, the game was starting anew.
Lords growing wild with ambition.
Titans readying for war.
Unknown powers—like Cron—emerging from the shadows to take center stage.
Every piece was moving.
The signs were clear: the festival was about to begin again.
And this time, he was sure—he would be the one to win it all.
The cold wind of the North was now sweeping down upon the Empire.
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HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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