The blizzards of the North blanketed every death, every tragedy in pure white.       No matter how horrific the scene, it lost all meaning once buried beneath snow and cold. Northerners, too, simply let the snow pile up.

After all, no matter what lies beneath, the snow on top was clean and white.           But once you start digging into what lies under that snow, too many people end up getting hurt. 

Then came the prince, ascending through the capital and the East to reach the North, like a maddened flame, he scorched the stillness of the North.

“W-Wait, Your Highness! You can’t just kill people like this without evidence!”

“We brought gifts for Your Highness, not as a result of selling the sacred fire! There’s no clear link!”

“Your Highness, how could you treat those entrusted with managing the Empire’s Mysteries like this? We’ve risked our lives, fending off assassins and monsters to protect it!”

Just moments ago, they’d been stunned by the prince’s brutality. Now they scrambled to offer any excuse they could find.

But, 

“The very gifts you brought are the evidence. Count! Draw your sword! As a royal, I hereby declare immediate judgment. And if I’m wrong, if I’ve misjudged, then I’ll bear the shame and renounce my claim to the throne. I swear it on my title and succession.”

Aziel’s voice rang out like a blade of frost, and everyone instinctively held their breath.

His succession rights.

To the nobility, this wasn’t just honor or title, it was everything. To wager it all was to stake one’s entire being.

Did that mean he was truly certain?

“Count! I ordered you to kill them! What are you waiting for?!”

Aziel’s crimson eyes blazed with tyranny as he shouted his command.

The count hesitated, he couldn’t bring himself to draw his sword and execute them all.

“So you don’t want blood on your hands? Fine, I’ll do it myself. Sol! Give me the greatsword!”

As if resolved, the prince flung away his wine bottle and stretched out his hand toward Sol, blazing with fury and madness.

The mage, visibly strained, passed him the enormous sword. If he swung that, there would truly be a storm of blood. The light in his eyes crackled with raw violence, dozens of administrators would die in an instant. He was mad … Arrogant …Unrelenting.

Rage that would allow no rebuttal, he truly was a tyrant in the making.

No one knew what to do, watching the prince seethe like wildfire. To Northerners, who lived lives of cold logic, such irrational, chaotic heat was utterly foreign.

“Looks like I’ll be seeing a lot of blood today.”

Aziel’s voice dipped low and cold as he prepared to swing the sword.

“Your Highness! Please wait! Just a moment!”

“Your Highness! It’s not the time yet!”

A young woman and a middle-aged man burst into view, running toward Aziel in haste. The woman’s pale face was flushed from exhaustion, her pale yellow hair disheveled from sprinting. The man beside her, despite having run just as far, wasn’t even winded.

Count Balzac frowned, narrowing his gaze toward their tracks. The man’s footsteps were… strange.

Aziel lowered the sword, just before swinging.

To stop the rampaging prince, that alone revealed their importance. Only now did the others realize that the people Aziel truly valued weren’t his knights or mages. It was these two. A mere maid and steward, ignored by even the count and administrators. They’d been allowed to roam freely, seen as irrelevant. But now… What had they been doing all this time?

Everyone began to sweat despite the bitter cold. Heat rose under their skin.

The older steward, Alfred, glanced at the administrators with loathing before kneeling gracefully before Aziel.

“Alfred reports to Your Highness. I’m glad to see you safe.”

“Sophia greets Your Highness.”

At their formal greetings, Aziel suppressed the bloodlust still rising within him and spoke coldly.

“I assume you have a reason for interrupting. Speak. Save the pleasantries. I’ve still got some bastards to kill.”

Everyone held their breath at his blunt words.

“Your Highness, please restrain yourself for a moment.”

“Is there a reason?”

“It is too early to kill them without due cause.”

At Alfred’s response, a flicker of hope returned to the administrators’ faces.            But Alfred noticed, and sneered in silence as he handed over a thick sheaf of papers.

“These documents are evidence of their corruption. Kill them with proof, Your Highness. That way, there will be no trouble afterward.”

“And here is a list of all the businesses that colluded with them. They too have drained the North of its lifeblood for far too long, they must be punished together.”

Aziel chuckled darkly, flipping through the reports.

“Well then. Killing with knowledge makes for a cleaner kill. A fair point, Alfred.”

Sophia chimed in support, egging on the prince’s wrath. 

As Aziel examined the files, he let out a loud laugh. He had sent Alfred and Sophia ahead of him to the North with one clear directive … to find the corrupt. Expose the traitors. Destroy those who had fed off the North. They had done it flawlessly. His laughter grew louder, and the greatsword in his hand almost seemed to laugh with him.

Eager for blood … This prince was utterly mad.

“C-Count, please… Please arrest me.”

“Me too, please! Take me into custody!”

“I confess everything! Just take me away!”

The ones who had once stood proud, unwilling to bow even at death, now threw themselves at Count Balzac’s feet, begging to be arrested.

They knew that that lunatic prince would kill them all. 

They had just seen it, hadn’t they?

He had cracked a man’s skull open without a shred of guilt.

Aziel curled his lips upward.

“What’s this, Count? Are you planning to interfere with my execution?”

“……”

Balzac’s face twisted into a grim scowl. 

Truth be told, the Count’s family bore deep resentment toward the Bonfire administrators. They had endured all the suffering, while these men basked in wealth and glory. They had shielded the North from its cold, while these so-called caretakers held fire and swung power. It had all been an imperial policy, to limit the growth of the frontier lords. The Bonfire caretakers had once been common folk of the frozen land, burdened by royal distrust.

After watching Aziel silently, the Count finally spoke.

“I will follow imperial law for now. They will be arrested and investigated.”

“Hm. That’s unexpected. I thought you’d want them dead immediately. Isn’t your grudge deep?”

“Northerners are not savages. We value imperial law over vengeance.”

“So, you’re saying I’m a savage?”

“Continued obsession with death is savagery.”

At the Count’s sharp words, Aziel grinned, his face still stained with blood.

Right now, it felt like Balzac was the genteel noble from the capital… and Aziel was the brutal warlord of the North.

“I said I’d put on a good show. I wonder … did you enjoy it?”

Aziel’s bright, almost childlike smile did nothing to dull the madness in his eyes. Balzac forced himself to hold his composure. If he didn’t, he’d be swept away entirely.

Aziel tossed him the bundle of documents. The list of corruption gathered by Alfred and Sophia.

“Take this, Count. You have four days. Round them all up.”

“Four days, Your Highness?”

“Too long?”

“It’s… too short.”

“On the fifth day, I’ll come find them myself, sword in hand. You understand what that means, yes? You arrest. I execute. If you don’t want them dead, arrest them. Quickly. Use whatever means you must.”

“Your Highness…”

“Count.”

Their eyes locked, sharp as blades.

“Speak.”

Balzac took half a step back.

Right now, Aziel held the reins.

“Surely, you see it now. Just because something is buried in snow doesn’t mean it’s clean. If it hurts, cut it away without hesitation. Otherwise, everyone will die. Even if I don’t kill them… they’ll die anyway. You’d best act. So I don’t have to.”

Aziel looked at the Count with a twisted, meaningful smile. And the Count, trying to conceal the tremble in his gaze, bowed his head.

“You may all leave now.”

Only after the prince had spoken did the crowd begin to disperse from the Bonfire grounds.

The Count exhaled quietly. It was time to sweep away the snow. To unearth the filth and clear out the corpses. How many of those corpses would be his own retainers… he could not say.

[You have consumed the lower fate of Count Balzac: resentment, fury, unjust treatment. Major fate traits, rebellion and defeat, have decreased! You’ve earned a massive amount of Devour points!]

[You’ve removed part of the site’s filthy fate. Lower fates shift accordingly! Additional Adaptation points will be granted based on future changes.]

The fates of others in the vicinity began to churn noisily.

The administrators’ fates were marked with death and ruin. The Northerners’, with small sparks of hope… and fear.

Unexpectedly, the contrast between the two sides had never been so stark.              In a world where buried corruption might have brought ruin to all Northerners, this time … it would be different. 

But that wasn’t all.

[Lower fate attributes, madness, tyranny, arrogance continue to grow. Those caught in the storm of madness lose their way.]

[New trait added to Madness: Chaos. Its effect will vary depending on what fate it merges with.]

[Impending fate of assassination, manipulation, and deception has been neutralized. Fate consumed! You’ve gained Adaptation and Mystery points!]

Even Aziel’q fate had shifted in several ways.

Those administrators had been plotting something…

But it no longer mattered.