The cold wind of the Abyss turned sharp and piercing, transforming into a deadly blade dance that cut through anything nearby.

Whhooooooooosh—

The exhausted, despairing old knight had instantly revived as the Frostblade Ghost of the North.

‘I’d better hurry.’

Sending Balzac away, I quickly rummaged through my bag to pull out various tools.

After making such a bold promise, failing to heal her would mean those razor-sharp winds might aim for my neck.

“I’m about to put some powder up your nose. You’ll feel drowsy afterward, but you absolutely mustn’t fall asleep!”

To alleviate Arina’s pain, I ground medicinal herbs with anesthetic properties into a fine powder and administered it through her nose.

Yes, I called it an anesthetic, but it’s essentially that substance.

“…If, Arad Jin… If you save my life… I will grant you a wish. Anything… as long as it’s within my power… Anything.”

The drug took effect immediately. Arina’s voice grew languid, and her gaze became hazy as drowsiness overtook her.

“Anything?”

“Yes… anything…”

“First of all, you mustn’t fall asleep.”

“…So sleepy…”

“Fight it.”

Even though the anesthetic dulled her pain, she couldn’t afford to fall asleep. Sleep could become eternal.

“You cannot fall asleep.”

“But…”

I realized I needed to keep talking to prevent her from drifting off.

“By the way, I heard Your Grace hasn’t married yet.”

“That’s correct.”

“Do you have no one in mind for a spouse?”

“I… am married to the North.”

“Ah, but you’ll need an heir, won’t you?”

“One day… but not now…”

Arina’s voice grew increasingly hoarse.

‘This is bad! She’s on the verge of falling asleep!’

I had to wake her up somehow.

“Wake up!”

Slap! Slap! Shake! Shake!

I slapped the Grand Duchess’s cheeks and shook her body vigorously. I even splashed cold water on her face and neck. None of it worked.

“Didn’t you say you’d grant me any wish earlier?”

Desperate, I knew I had to say something shocking to jolt her awake.

Think, think—what could I say that would utterly bewilder her?

“Yes… anything… within my power…”

“Then how about making me your consort?”

What I blurted out was so absurd that even I couldn’t believe it.

“?!”

The effect was astounding.

Her half-closed eyes snapped wide open.

“…S-suddenly spouting such nonsense? If I weren’t in this state… I would… slap your… cheek…”

Her voice was firm, full of effort as she forced herself to stay awake, her drowsiness momentarily dispelled.

“How cruel. Didn’t you just promise anything?”

Feeling relieved, I decided to prolong this conversation as much as possible.

“That…”

“I’m currently saving Your Grace’s life for the second time, and I’ve already brought great benefit to the North with Arad’s Salt. Isn’t that enough?”

“Rather… I should ask you. Why on earth would you want to become my consort?”

“Because you’re too beautiful?”

“…Say another wish.”

“I don’t really have any other wishes…”

“Then… until I’m fully healed! Until the investiture ceremony! I’ll think it over.”

“Well, if I must. Fine.”

“And most importantly, I… I still don’t truly know who you are.”

Her voice trembled slightly.

“So, you mean if you learn my true identity, you’ll consider it?”

“…!”

“Can I take your silence as a yes?”

To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was saying anymore.

I was just spouting whatever came to mind, without a filter.

‘Even I must be out of my mind to joke like this just to provoke her. Especially since I’ll have to return to Earth after my mission.’

Maybe her stunning beauty had swayed me without my realizing it?

“…”

But it worked.

Arina’s sapphire-like eyes filled with confusion, her pupils trembling as if an earthquake had struck them.

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Even as I spoke with Arina, my hands were busy.

Using a silver carving knife, I was etching mana circuits into a mana stone. Beside me, a furnace I had brought from the carriage was already set up.

“Do you see this?”

Deciding to abandon the marriage talk, I switched topics to keep her from succumbing to sleep.

“A mana stone.”

“Yes, a mana stone. With this, I’ll not only save Your Grace’s life but also restore your energy core.”

“…Is that so?”

Seven intermediate mana stones: Earth, Wood, Fire, Ice, Water, Light, and Dark attributes.

These were the core materials necessary not just to save the Grand Duchess’s life but to allow her to wield a sword again.

“How… where did you learn all of this?”

Arina asked cautiously as she watched me etch mana circuits into the stone. Her sapphire eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Aren’t you trying to uncover my secrets a little too quickly?”

Noticing her inquisitive gaze, I decided to tease her.

“You claim to have no interest in marriage, yet you’re being awfully forward. It’s quite disconcerting.”

Flustered, she stammered, her face turning crimson.

“T-that’s not… I didn’t mean it like that…”

‘Good. She’s fully awake now.’

Relieved, I offered her a half-truth as an answer.

“Long ago, during the era when mankind sought to rival the gods…”

“…The Golden Age?”

“Yes. This is a lost technique from the Golden Age.”

Though I had made it up on the spot, it wasn’t entirely untrue.

The origins of magic engineering, involving mana stones and mana circuits, indeed dated back to the Golden Age.

The Empire’s Golden Tower had long been researching lost technologies from that era, attempting to restore them. It was through this process that they stumbled upon mana circuit studies, often referred to as the "semiconductors of the fantasy world," which gave birth to the field of magic engineering.

“For now, that’s all I’ll reveal about myself.”

“I see…”

Arina’s expression shifted into something between curiosity and hesitation.

“There’s one thing I must ask.”

Her voice became steady, her sapphire eyes now reflecting a mix of determination and fear.

“Go ahead.”

“Arad Jin, will you… will you harm the North or Renslet?”

“Of course not.”

“Will you… betray me or the North?”

Her voice trembled, and tears welled in her eyes, sliding down her cheeks.

“Swear it to me.”

“I swear.”

A desperate plea from a young sovereign.

Smiling, I nodded.

“Thank goodness. That’s such a relief…”

At last, her tense expression softened, and she smiled gently.

Her radiant face, even amid this chaotic moment, was enough to momentarily distract me from preparing the elixir.

“Ah… I, too… I have something to reveal to you, Arad.”

“What is it?”

“The truth is, my name is not Ilia, a knight of High Castle. My real identity is Arina Rune Renslet, Grand Duchess of the North…”

“I know.”

“…You do?”

Perhaps due to her injuries or the narcotic-like effects of the anesthetic, her thoughts and memory seemed disjointed.

Even though we’d been talking as if I already knew her identity, she reacted with surprise.

‘Well, that’s a relief in its own way.’

If her condition improved, she might forget all about my earlier embarrassing attempt at flirting.

While chatting with her, I placed the mana stones, engraved with mana circuits, into the furnace in a specific order.

Fwoooosh!

The flames roared, and drops of platinum-colored liquid began to form at the center.

Carefully, I collected the droplets in a silver cup.

This cheat-level alchemy required 100 years of advanced techniques and my MAX-level skills.

Though the setup, materials, and tools were rudimentary, this was the best I could manage under the circumstances.

Hiss!

Boom!

Meanwhile, the final battle raged on nearby, reaching its climax.

The Sword Master’s regained hope, combined with her desperation, resulted in a truly awe-inspiring display of power.

“Sir Arad! Lord Balzac sent me ahead! He asked me to deliver these to you!”

Knight Eothe appeared, burdened with numerous bags slung across his body. They were filled with items taken from the corpses of black warlocks and Sigma mages.

“Sir Arad! Do you need anything else? Just say the word!”

By now, the knights had naturally begun addressing me with the honorific "Sir."

Gathering the potions from the mages’ bags and sorting the various herbs and alchemical ingredients from the warlocks’ supplies, I noticed Eothe watching me curiously.

“So… can you really save Her Grace and restore her energy core?”

Given his understanding, he might not even know a cure beyond potions existed—let alone one that could mend a shattered core.

“It’s possible. Though the result will be crude.”

As I mixed the platinum-colored liquid with the potions and herbs, I answered his question.

“What exactly are you making?”

“It’s not a potion.”

“It doesn’t look like any potion I’ve ever seen.”

“If it were just a potion, I could save her life, but not restore her core.”

“Then… does it have a name?”

Eothe asked cautiously, his tone reflecting the weight of the situation.

“If I had to name it, despite it being a crude imitation…”

I glanced at the newly completed, iridescent liquid and opened my mouth.

“Elixir.”

A primitive and unstable elixir, a century ahead of its time, had been born.

“Elixir…?”

Eothe tilted his head, unfamiliar with the term.

“I’ve read about it in ancient texts.”

Arina’s voice, faint and hoarse, drifted from where she lay. Even half-delirious from pain and medication, she’d been listening.

“Elixir… from the Golden Age…”

Her words trailed off.

“I’m so sleepy… unbearably so…”

Finally, her body succumbed to exhaustion.

“You’ve done well to endure this long. Rest now.”

It was safe for her to sleep now, so I gently closed her eyes.

With utmost care, I alternated pouring the iridescent elixir into her mouth and onto her energy core.

“Is it done, Sir Arad?”

Eothe asked suddenly.

“Yes.”

Considering all the trials leading up to this moment, the actual procedure felt anticlimactically simple.

‘Arina is no ordinary person.’

I marveled at how her body showed no signs of mana instability.

Even this crude, half-baked elixir had yielded 200% efficiency within her.

‘She’ll recover without severe side effects.’

Such a phenomenon would be impossible without being blessed with mana from birth.

“This feels… strangely anticlimactic.”

“The rest is up to Her Grace now.”

“She’ll succeed. Just as Lord Balzac, Sir Karrot, and Sir Logi have over there, finishing their bloody battle.”

Eothe turned his gaze toward the ongoing fight, and I followed suit.

Flash!

“Die, traitor!”

“For the North!”

“Renslet! Rune Renslet!”

The wrathful vengeance reached its gruesome conclusion.

“So, it ends like this? Truly, the North is full of monsters. No wonder His Majesty and Her Grace were so wary of them.”

“But the Grand Duchess is as good as dead. Even if she survives, she’ll be crippled for life. We’ve achieved our primary goal.”

“Shame we couldn’t capture that strange golden carriage, but another Sigma agent will handle that, as always.”

The remaining Sigma operatives—two knights and a mage—dropped their weapons with a resigned air.

“Hail the Emperor!”

“For the glory of the Eternal Empire!”

Deep within the Abyss, their only escape was to flee this world altogether.