The Renslet stronghold, also known as High Castle, served as the Northern Duchy’s seat of power and the North’s capital. As such, it was a fortress so vast that it dwarfed most cities.

At the heart of this colossal fortress lay the Inner Keep, home to the North’s highest-ranking nobles. Within the Inner Keep stood the Hall of Glory, a grand palace where the Grand Duchess met with her advisors to deliberate on matters of great importance to the North.

The Hall of Glory served as the Northern court, administrative office, and the Grand Duchess’s residence all in one.

"……."

And now, I found myself in one of the countless rooms of the Hall of Glory.

Specifically, the room where the court meeting had just been held. At this moment, it was just me and the ruler of this land, alone.

"Ahem! So… it was your first meeting, wasn’t it? You did well. Your suggestions… were also good. We’ll take your opinion on dealing with the Empire seriously," Arina said, breaking the silence.

Fortunately, it seemed she was more uneasy about the awkward atmosphere than I was.

"It is an honor," I replied, bowing my head at an appropriate angle.

"What excuse do you think the Empire will make if we protest?"

"If I were them, I’d cut ties with the perpetrators and claim it was the rogue actions of warlocks under their influence."

"I see… that does seem likely."

After her question and my concise response…

"……."

"……."

An awkward silence stretched between us.

"Well, then, I’ll take my leave," Arina finally said, unable to endure the atmosphere any longer. She left the room in haste.

"……?"

And just like that, I was the only one left in the room.

“She seemed in a better mood than when we met in the greenhouse, but she’s still a bit cold.”

Alone, I reflected on our brief exchange.

“Why is she upset? Could it be… because of the witches clinging to me earlier in the greenhouse?”

Judging by the circumstances, that seemed the most plausible explanation.

As the saying goes, believe in the situation someone is in rather than the person themselves.

Considering the situation, this made sense.

“What should I do? Ignoring this might cause a real problem.”

While creating distance from the Grand Duchess was the ultimate goal, going too far would be equally dangerous.

Cooperation with Arina was essential to saving the North.

Besides, the ennoblement ceremony was approaching, and with it, the possibility of additional rewards.

“A little flirtation. Just enough to stay on good terms until I can return to Earth.”

It was a selfish thought, but I saw it as the best option for both of us. I needed to return to Earth, and she had to govern the North.

“The ideal scenario would be gaining the ability to travel freely between Earth and this world after saving the North…”

As tempting as that scenario was, I dismissed it immediately. If that had been possible, the being that brought me here would’ve done so already.

Refocusing, I considered how to lift Arina’s lingering annoyance.

“Going to her and apologizing outright is not an option.”

Apologizing for what happened with the witches would only be foolish. It might make it seem like Arina was jealous, which would only make things worse.

“A surprise gift it is, then.”

With a clear path forward, I headed toward the Golden Carriage.

After all, there’s nothing like a thoughtful gift to soothe an upset woman.

“What should I give her?”

On my way to the Golden Carriage, I began my second round of deliberations: what kind of surprise gift to prepare for Arina.

“She seemed to enjoy good food before.”

One idea was to recreate the K-omakase experience I’d given her in Haven.

“No, I don’t want to get on the bad side of the castle’s chefs.”

I quickly dismissed that idea.

“How about making candy or a cake? Desserts made with sugar are incredibly rare in the North.”

In this era, sweet treats were mostly limited to honey, so a sugary dessert would be a rare and valuable gift.

“But I don’t have sugar. While I could use my alchemy skills to create a fantasy-world version of aspartame…”

I shook my head again.

“No, making aspartame here would require resources, infrastructure, and time that I simply don’t have.”

The practical limitations made that option impossible.

“What about crafting her a sword?”

Arina was a knight, after all, and knights loved swords. Her treasured sword had been damaged during the battles in the Abyss. Although I had temporarily repaired it, fully restoring it would take considerable time.

“No, crafting a sword that meets Arina’s standards would take too long. Besides, I don’t currently have the resources to forge something with mithril or adamantium.”

This idea was also discarded.

“More importantly, Arina’s martial prowess has been reset for now. Giving her a high-quality sword might encourage her to train recklessly, which would only cause more trouble.”

Ultimately, I kept running into the same obstacles: a lack of infrastructure and time.

What use was expertise if there was no way to put it into practice? My current situation was akin to a semiconductor engineer being transported to 19th-century Korea.

"Hmmm… Hmmm…"

Lost in thought, I continued walking until the Golden Carriage came into view.

"That’s it!"

I suddenly stopped, exclaiming aloud as a eureka moment struck me.

A perfect idea—something quick and feasible with the materials at hand—had come to mind.

Inside the Golden Carriage.

The area, once a theme park for the witches, was now eerily quiet.

It seemed Isabelle, the Spring Witch, had given strict orders to keep the space undisturbed.

Thanks to that, I was able to begin my work swiftly and efficiently.

"Let’s see… where’s that monster leather I got instead of cash in the Abyss… Ah, here it is!"

I opened one of the carriage’s storage boxes and pulled out several pieces of monster hide.

"A bag. I’ll make her a bag."

Spreading out the hides, I visualized designs inspired by famous luxury brand handbags from Earth and began sketching blueprints.

"First, sharpening."

Once the designs were ready, I sharpened my tools for cutting the leather.

Leather crafting required precision from start to finish—cutting, thinning, and shaping. The sharpness of the tools was crucial.

Sharpening the tools was like hitting Ctrl+S in a document: you did it whenever you had a chance.

Swish, swish.

After sharpening, I began cutting the leather according to the blueprint.

The blades were so sharp that the leather practically sliced itself.

Slice, slice.

After cutting, I moved on to thinning the leather, a process that adjusts the thickness and texture.

Leather crafting’s essence lay in this step. The quality, gloss, and overall finish of the product depended on how well the thinning was done.

Even on Earth, brands like Hermès owed their luxury status to their mastery of leather thinning. It was the line dividing mass production from craftsmanship.

Tap, tap, tap.

Once the thinning was done, I began working on embossing, an equally crucial step.

Though it was time-consuming and meticulous, it couldn’t be skipped. If the thinning process was the leather’s "skin," embossing was its "muscle."

Embossing prevented the leather from cracking and ensured durability.

Tap, tap, tap.

Thanks to my maxed-out dexterity stat, I worked with machine-like precision and speed. Every step—from thinning to embossing—was carried out flawlessly, without a second’s hesitation.

Layer upon layer of monster leather was compressed and treated until it became a single, refined material.

By the time I finished cutting the leather, who knows how much time had passed.

I retrieved a furnace and tossed a mana stone inside, igniting a roaring blaze.

Whoosh!

Thus began the most critical step in the crafting process—one that set this bag apart from ordinary leather bags: the mana stone coating.

“This is where luck plays a big role. And considering the mid-tier mana stones I’m using this time, it won’t be as easy as with the Golden Carriage.”

The process relied on a mix of skill and luck—70% skill, 30% luck.

“But with my high Luck stat, the success rate should still be around 70 to 80%.”

Just as I had with the Golden Carriage, I coated the leather inside and out with molten mana stone.

Swipe, swipe. Thump, thump.

Before the coating could set, I inscribed mana circuits into the surface.

“Will this succeed on the first try?”

As I enchanted the mana circuits, beads of sweat formed on my brow.

Twenty minutes passed.

“Success!”

I instinctively knew that the enchantment had worked.

With the first round of enchanting complete, I moved on to stitching the leather with linen thread. Between stitches, I punched holes, attached buttons and accessories, and reinforced the bag’s base with mana stone plates.

I created the lining, bonded it to the leather, and assembled all the parts into a cohesive whole.

The work continued tirelessly into the early hours of the morning.

“Wow… it’s already morning?”

Stretching my arms, I looked at the Northern sun rising over the horizon.

“Even the spatial bag I made for myself wasn’t this exhausting to craft.”

I glanced at the nearly completed leather bag, sighing in disbelief.

Its design resembled a Birkin bag from Earth, albeit smaller—roughly the size of two palms put together. Most notably, it lacked a handle. Instead, I designed it to be worn on a belt, considering the user’s active lifestyle.

“Just one last step.”

The centerpiece of the bag had a socket, an empty space that seemed to cry out for a gemstone.

“I’m going all out here. Hopefully, I’ll get a bit of extra compensation at the ennoblement ceremony for this.”

With trembling hands, I retrieved a fingernail-sized neutral-element mana stone from my pouch. It was a top-tier mana stone, a trophy from my battle with the Empire’s Sigma unit.

“Second enchantment!”

This was the grand finale—the most critical step.

Using a tool, I meticulously inscribed mana circuits into the radiant crystal, which sparkled like a diamond.

“I’d love to enchant a shield spell onto this, but… I can’t. I don’t have access to mithril or orichalcum right now.”

Instead of focusing on quality, I opted for quantity when designing the mana circuits.

“This is the best I can do with the current infrastructure.”

With a stone of this quality, I could enchant three mid-tier spells: cleaning, self-repair, and reinforcement.

By modern magical standards, these spells were equivalent to the advanced tools of a magic tower lord from a hundred years into the future.

“Combining this mana stone with the coated leather, if the enchantment succeeds, this bag could last for millennia.”

I felt a swell of pride, comparing its practicality to that of ancient Golden Age artifacts.

“Maybe it’s my Luck stat, or just beginner’s luck, but everything’s been going smoothly so far.”

This bag was something only I could create. Even with my skill set, it required the boost from my Luck stat to succeed.

“I’m not doing this again. If I try this kind of intensive crafting a few more times, my body won’t hold up.”

The lack of resources and infrastructure had forced me into an inefficient and grueling process.

“Still, if I downgrade the specs for mass production, it could become a profitable venture. I’ll ask the Grand Duchess about it later. Even if the witches are prideful, they won’t refuse orders from above.”

Pushing through my exhaustion and dizziness, I poured my remaining energy into the final step.

Praying to my Luck stat, I inserted the neutral mana stone into the bag’s socket.

And then—

Flash!

A dazzling light burst forth from the bag, signaling resounding success.

 

Meanwhile, Arina couldn’t sleep all night.

“What if he’s disappointed in me?”

She couldn’t stop worrying about her curt behavior toward Arad the day before. The memory gnawed at her, filling her with regret.

“Why am I like this? What’s wrong with me?”

These feelings were unlike anything she had ever experienced.

The unfamiliar emotions left Arina flustered and at a loss.

“It was just the witches clinging to his arms. I should’ve been happy for him.”

Yet she couldn’t shake her anger and gloominess.

She couldn’t even fully understand or acknowledge her own feelings.

“Grandmother, why did you meddle like that?”

After meeting Arad in the greenhouse, Isabelle had gone out of her way to seat him right beside her at the council meeting.

“Did she decide on her own to groom him as a consort?”

Arina deeply regretted asking Isabelle that question back then.

“Why did I even ask about having children with an Ancient One?”

She had asked purely as a way to anchor Arad to the North, not herself. The goal was to pair him with another woman from the North to ensure his long-term stay.

Isabelle, however, had clearly misunderstood.

– Because you’re too beautiful?

The memory of Arad’s unexpected confession in the Abyss resurfaced, setting her mind ablaze.

She had been called beautiful and pretty countless times before, but for some reason, those words coming from Arad stuck with her like no others.

“Ughhh…”

Shaking her head violently, Arina tried to cool her flustered thoughts.

She clung to her usual rationality.

“Arad possesses knowledge from the Golden Age. He’s a valuable asset to recruit. That’s all there is to it!”

Even her decision to ask for his opinion during the council meeting stemmed from the hope that an Ancient One might have a groundbreaking solution.

“I rejected his confession in the Abyss. When we met again, he seemed to have accepted it.”

Although an inexplicable pang of regret lingered, Arina convinced herself that her decision had been the right one.

“It’s for Arad’s own good, too.”

She was now a prime target of the Empire. If Arad were to be romantically tied to her, the Empire would surely direct all its schemes and threats at him as well.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Your Grace, Sir Arad Jin requests an audience."

The voice of a maid from beyond the door startled her.

“W-What?!”

Caught off guard, Arina instinctively turned to the mirror.