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“Wow.”

Karem let out an involuntary exclamation.

It certainly wasn’t meant to be complimentary.

To put it mildly, he was taken aback by the scene before him.

“Excuse me.”

As soon as they arrived in front of the office, the door suddenly swung open, and a steward carrying a heavy pile of documents bowed to the party before quickly dashing down the corridor.

What he saw through the open door.

With a bit of exaggeration, it reminded him of the spectacle he witnessed last winter in Catherine’s office.

Mountains of various books and documents cluttered the office.

Literally speaking.

“Regarding Deep Rock Mott—ah, you’re here. Come inside.”

It was obvious from the familiar voice coming from inside the room who it was addressing.

Karem followed Catherine inside, leaving the steward behind.

Due to the various materials stacked up without a gap, the duke’s modest office looked more like a library now.

“Let’s take a short break. We’ll have a late lunch as well. While it’s not dinner, tell the kitchen to prepare some snacks in my name.”

Alfred, surrounded by various scrolls and documents at his desk, stood up with tired eyes and clapped his hands, sending the stewards out of the office.

“Alright, sorry for the sudden call.”

“Not at all, my lord. Isn’t it a busy time?”

“Well then, please take a seat.”

Catherine looked around the office with a bewildered expression.

Memories of the workload that had to be finished last autumn and winter came flooding back.

“Still, you seem to be quite overwhelmed. Is there some kind of large-scale territory battle going on?”

“I wish it were a territory battle. It’s the year-end settlements clashing with festival preparations, so we’ve got work piling up, but there’s no need to worry.”

“Of course, I haven’t been worried.”

“Are you still sulking over last year?”

Catherine’s face clearly displayed her feelings.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Better hold your tongue.”

Catherine cast a slight glare at Alfred with hints of resentment. Alfred brushed off the hostility with a seasoned attitude.

“Karem, is there something on your mind?”

“Regarding the festival, are you speaking of Wintersend?”

“What? Wintersend?”

For the first time, Karem saw Alfred scowl as if he despised something.

Alfred waved his hand dismissively.

“Just thinking about it is dreadful. To think we have to hold Wintersend every year! I can’t even begin to fathom how much work is going to pour in.”

“Oh, so it’s not held every year?”

“Of course not. We can’t just haphazardly prepare a festival to honor the gods, but preparing it every year is an entirely different story. What we’re preparing now is for the annual autumn memorial.”

“The memorial?”

Alfred shuddered visibly, to the point where his short beard trembled, not hearing Karem’s words.

Catherine’s hair bristled.

What if Alfred couldn’t manage it?

The thought of that led to an inevitable conclusion.

“By the way, there’s one thing I must be thankful for.”

“Do you think there are just one or two things for which my lord should thank me?”

“Surely. You also took on the task of Lord Stark, did you not?”

Upon hearing that the Bolton territory was ravaged by the Grizzly Beaver swarm, Alfred momentarily lost his composure.

Moreover, the one delivering the news was none other than the one expected to head to the territory: Gordon Stark himself, appointed as the baron of the Bolton territory.

“If you hadn’t handled that, I would have been drowning in overtime until the festival started. Of course, I’m still working late nights.”

“You needn’t go that far in showing your gratitude. Besides, it’s not like there’s no work for you to do.”

“Still…”

Alfred let out a brief sigh of relief.

“The fact that I was able to wrap it up before it escalated is entirely thanks to you.”

“….”

Karem felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

In this very place last winter.

Though the atmosphere was different, it was of a similar nuance to what Alfred had.

Catherine seemed to feel something similar, as Karem quickly noticed the look of discomfort on her face.

“Are you suggesting you plan to assign me another task?”

“I apologize for calling on you during such a busy time.”

Karem involuntarily gripped Catherine’s arm as a chill ran down his spine.

Catherine shot him a confused glance as if to ask what he was doing.

But Karem couldn’t let go.

It was a similar situation with history repeating itself.

Catherine had a past with this.

Feeling the strength in Karem’s grip made him hold on tighter.

And with the following words, Catherine couldn’t help but relax her tension.

“Normally, I would have just sent the steward, but didn’t he have quite a major accident recently?”

Ah, this is unavoidable.

Catherine had to forcibly come to terms with it.

Objectively, Elder Iona was old.

No, to be frank, no one knew when or how she might pass away.

In blunt terms, she could very well just take a nap and never wake up at this age.

The stark white beard.

The time spent performing the duties of Duke of Iceland across three generations proved this.

However, despite all of that, there were still those who found it hard to accept.

Though they were somewhat distant, Karem had seen it clearly.

The act of pulling up a fully grown tree by hand.

The way it was easily tossed aside.

And the way he punched the bear-sized Grizzly Beaver with his bare hands.

They say he consumes as much as his own weight and wields divine power, so how could he die so easily? No, to be honest, how could he die so easily? Considering his stout—no, taking into account his stature, he really does seem prone to a health crisis…

Was that expression blatant enough that Catherine flicked Karem’s forehead with her finger.

“Kid. That’s rude.”

“Um, I apologize.”

“Are you not going to correct it?”

“No, to be honest. Elder Iona?”

Mmhmm. Catherine swallowed hard.

To be honest, a part of her mind didn’t differ much from Karem’s thoughts.

“But you shouldn’t say it outright.”

“…Atanitas, haven’t you already mentioned that?”

“Oops.”

If it had been a particularly prickly noble, it might have become a problem.

But Alfred wasn’t that kind of noble.

Besides, to be fair, he agreed with Karem’s assessment.

“Still, it’s too risky to send Iona out already. To be frank, I would prefer that she stays in Winterhome until at least next spring.”

“This is truly unavoidable, isn’t it?”

“If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t have called you so urgently.”

Catherine barely managed to suppress the urge to scratch her head.

After all, the pile of work was already immense, and now they were considering pushing it off to send her out.

But, as mentioned earlier, it was indeed unavoidable.

Given that she didn’t know when she might pass, it was a grim reality.

“It’s hard to imagine, but that’s how it is.”

“Then, what exactly is the task you’re assigning me?”

“The task itself isn’t that complicated.”

Professional and business-like dialogue began to emerge.

Even Karem, who knew nothing about business in his previous life, found Alfred’s explanation exceedingly concise.

To put it simply.

The introduction of the newly developed Cold Resistance Potion.

Establishing a market for the potion and laying the groundwork for employing local personnel and production.

However.

“This doesn’t seem like a task for Elder Atanitas to be involved in.”

“Certainly.”

It was not a task suited for someone of Elder Iona’s caliber.

Rather, it seemed more appropriate to have a notable noble’s name to send the actual workers.

“That’s not a wrong thing to say.”

“Then—”

“It wouldn’t be necessary if the person you need to meet wasn’t Duke Hadrianus.”

“Ah, then right now, besides you or the steward, there’s no one else.”

Catherine grasped the situation immediately.

Karem, completely oblivious to who Hadrianus was, continued their conversation.

“I’m sorry, so I’ll have to find someone to accompany you.”

“Huh? What does that mean—”

“Look around.”

“Excuse me?”

What could that possibly mean?

Karem thought the same. Suddenly, he had no idea what was being said.

And then Karem, caught off guard, realized what was happening and looked around.

The immense piles of parchment and books in the office.

All were related to year-end settlements and festival documentation.

The answer had been evident right from the beginning.

During such a busy period, the festival clashed, after all.

“If someone like you or Elder Iona is dispatched, the related tasks would virtually be finalized, but frankly, right now, it’s just us.”

“I suppose someone could take their time to get things rolling, right?”

Under normal circumstances, there wouldn’t be a manpower shortage in the duke’s household.

After all, Iceland may look like this, but it was a place where people gathered.

Especially, if there were insufficient civil servants beneath the duke, that would be odd.

“You’ve started several significant ventures like the spice trade and potion production right in the midst of this busy time.”

And just as a subordinate would be responsible for the work of a superior.

It was all Alfred’s doing.

After that, several more discussions took place, but ultimately, Catherine was determined to embark on her journey as quickly as possible, ideally within a few days.

And on the way back to the Wizard’s Tower.

Catherine’s mood was grim.

It was only natural for her to be that way.

Karem clearly understood why.

Already overwhelmed with work, she was being given another sizable task.

What was more, it wouldn’t be as reckless a dispatch as before because Alfred genuinely had no choice in the matter. No, wait. What did “no choice” even mean?

“So, who is this Duke Hadrianus you keep mentioning?”

“Huh? Who do you think?”

“What sort of person is he that requires someone of Elder Iona or Atanitas’s caliber for the task?”

Alfred was a duke.

Within the Kingdom of Seophone, there was only one person above him, and even across all of Europa, it was clear that there were likely no more than a hundred nobles of his standing.

Thus, the positions of his direct steward, Elder Iona, and Chief Magic Consultant Catherine Marigold were not low either.

So who in the world was Duke Hadrianus that required someone of her stature to meet?

Catherine displayed a peculiar expression.

“Are you… perhaps unaware?”

“Excuse me? Should I know?”

“…Stop only attending to cooking and pay some attention to your surroundings.”

Catherine shook her head, as if unable to comprehend, and her golden hair swirled in waves like an aurora with her movements.

“Duke Hadrianus rules the largest territory in Iceland after my lord.”

“Oh, you mentioned he was a duke.”

“In addition, he serves as the head knight of all of Iceland’s knights on behalf of my lord.”

“I think you mentioned his rank was equal to that of Atanitas.”

As Karem muttered, recalling a vague memory, Catherine nodded, confirming he was correct, and continued.

“And he’s also the father of my lord.”

“Hmm, is that so? Who exactly is this?”

What did I just hear?

The father of my lord? That means…

“Predecessor Duke of Iceland, Your Grace?”

“That’s one of his titles.”

In that case, the multitude of tasks suddenly made sense, even if it was difficult to explain.

After all, it’s normal for one’s own father to be quite a burden to be managed, right?

And Karem was caught off guard by the next statement.

“Richard Felwinter. Commonly known as the Great Demon of the Winter Lady. Common talk says that as soon as my lord reached adulthood, he offloaded the title and fled north with the position of duke and the head knight.”

“…I can understand the title being tossed aside, but the position of head knight?”

If he was the head knight, he could summon all the knights of Iceland, couldn’t he? How on earth?

No, before that, how could the other knights possibly come to terms with that?

The answer turned out to be surprisingly simple.

“At that time. And even now, who would dare question the might of Iceland’s strongest? Not to mention the fact that he was a former duke.”

“Regardless of prioritizing power, isn’t that a bit far-fetched?”

“What? He knocked down everyone who opposed him.”

“Did those opposing him actually come to an understanding after that?”

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?”

Here lay the boundary between civilization and barbarism. Was that why?

Karem had a lukewarm gaze, unable to comprehend.

Catherine, too, found it hard to grasp.

For them, there was still a lack of Icelandic sensitivity.

“By the way, it seems you need some training now.”

“…You aren’t suggesting cooking training, are you?”

“Of course.”

“Uh, um….”

But hang on a second.

“Who will I be training with?”

“Who else would it be? The mercenary.”

“Gordon? The guy I just heard was hired temporarily?”

“He’s more than capable enough, satisfying both the guard and escort roles.”

“I doubt my lord would be too keen on that.”

“After all, it’s a public mission directly assigned by my lord. What could my lord possibly do to me?”

“…You know, Atanitas merely dislikes seeing those two together. He’s not fond of the thought of going north, either.”

Catherine silently agreed.

 

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