Receiving a Male Visitor in the Bedchamber was Unthinkable in the North, No Matter How Pragmatic They Were.

Arina and Arad met in a space that doubled as a throne room and reception area.

The room was sparsely populated with maids attending to the Grand Duchess and knights temporarily stripped of their combat capabilities, tasked with protecting her.

“I greet Your Grace,” Arad said, bowing to the ruler of the snowy lands. His face showed slight fatigue, likely from staying up all night.

‘Could it be... Has Arad been losing sleep over a similar concern as mine?’ Arina thought, her heart sinking at the notion.

‘No! You and I cannot grow closer! Not for your safety!’

Feeling like a tragic heroine in a melodramatic romance novel, Arina faced Arad with a conflicted expression.

“What brings you here? And your complexion... You look exhausted. Is there an issue in your chambers, perhaps?” she asked, gripping her hands tightly.

“Oh... No, I simply stayed up all night crafting something,” Arad replied nonchalantly.

“I... I see. And what did you make?”

“This,” Arad said, pulling out a bag he had worked on through the night.

‘It’s beautiful…’

Arina couldn’t help but admire the bag as she laid eyes on it.

The bag’s design was entirely novel, its structure unfamiliar and eye-catching. Despite her life on the battlefield, wielding swords and surviving skirmishes, she felt an instinctive desire to own it.

‘I’ve never seen a bag like this before. Is it inspired by the styles of the Golden Age?’

At the center of the bag was an attribute-free mana stone. It appeared to be of the highest grade, intricately carved with a minute and elaborate magical circle.

“This bag is not just any ordinary bag. It’s enchanted with four distinct magical functions,” Arad began.

But the impressive appearance of the bag was only the beginning.

“Magical functions? Enchantments?”

Hearing Arad’s words, Arina couldn’t help but recall his Golden Carriage.

“Yes. I should demonstrate,” Arad replied, opening the bag and showcasing its features.

“The first enchantment is a subspace spell. This small bag can hold items the size of a large storage chest. You only need to envision the item you want to retrieve to take it out.”

Arina listened, utterly entranced, as Arad explained.

He demonstrated by pulling out items far too large to reasonably fit into the bag.

“Incredible…”

“He’s truly a mage!”

“A subspace bag? That’s an artifact from the Golden Age! Did he replicate it?”

Both the maids and knights attending Arina stared in awe, mouths agape, as Arad continued his demonstration.

The bag Arad had created overnight was nothing short of extraordinary.

Once the first enchantment’s demonstration was complete, Arad asked, “Might I borrow a dagger?”

“Of course. Lend him a dagger,” Arina instructed.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Thank you.”

Taking the dagger, Arad proceeded to showcase the bag’s secondary functions.

“Even if you damage it…” Arad said, slashing the bag with the borrowed dagger without hesitation.

“Ah!”

“!!”

The maids gasped in dismay, and even Arina’s eyes widened in shock. The knights, however, focused intently on the dagger in Arad’s hand.

Their attention was short-lived.

“Over time, the bag repairs itself. Of course, it needs materials and tools stored within to facilitate the process.”

“!!”

The knights, still focused on the dagger, couldn’t maintain their composure once the self-repair enchantment activated.

“There’s also a cleanliness enchantment. If it gets soiled, it cleans itself immediately, and it’s resistant to stains.”

To demonstrate, Arad poured ink over the bag, which then magically repelled the liquid.

This time, no cries of dismay were heard from the maids, only murmurs of astonishment.

“Amazing…”

“It’s spotless!”

The room filled with admiration rather than concern.

“Finally, the bag has an owner-registration function. Once registered, only the designated owner can open it.”

With the final demonstration complete, Arad finished showcasing his creation.

Everyone in the room, from the maids to the knights, looked at the bag with barely concealed greed.

Arina, of course, was no exception.

‘This bag rivals the artifacts of the Golden Age. No, it might surpass them,’ she thought, her mind racing.

“Could it be… Is this bag the next item you plan to sell after Arad’s Salt?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Her initial desire to own the bag was quickly followed by thoughts of its potential benefit to the North’s finances. If such a bag were auctioned, how much could it fetch? Could they rival the wealthiest noble houses of the empire?

“Unfortunately, it’s not something I can easily mass-produce. The mana stone at its core is of the highest grade,” Arad explained.

“Of course... Embedding such a stone in a mere bag would be excessive,” Arina admitted, her daydreams of golden opportunities abruptly halting.

“However, there would certainly be demand. The empire’s wealthiest nobles and royals would undoubtedly buy it. And here in the North, mana stones are abundant. Even High Castle has a stock of high-grade stones,” she said cautiously, urging him further.

“I’m afraid it’s not just about materials. The process is extremely taxing on my stamina. Additionally, luck played a significant role in this creation; it was only by beginner’s fortune that I managed to complete it in one night.”

“I see… That makes sense,” Arina sighed, understanding the toll such a masterpiece took on its creator.

She recalled the Northern blacksmiths who had forged legendary swords. After crafting their magnum opuses, they always seemed aged by a decade overnight.

“I can, however, produce bags with lower performance—mid- or low-grade mana stones enchanted with only the subspace function. Those could be crafted in reasonable quantities,” Arad offered, noticing Arina’s disappointment.

“Really? I’ll provide any resources you need!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up.

“But I’d like to involve the Northern witches and craftsmen in the production. Doing it alone would be too time-consuming; I can’t dedicate an entire year to this,” Arad added.

“Do you mean to share your knowledge with them?” Arina asked, her expression turning serious.

“Yes, precisely,” Arad replied, puzzled by her sudden change in demeanor.

“There could be complications…” she murmured.

“Complications?”

“Apologies, but let’s put mass production on hold for now. High Castle and the North are still riddled with spies, and the witches have their own constraints,” she explained.

“I understand.”

Arad quickly nodded, understanding the reasons behind her hesitation.

Currently, the only area where the North surpassed the Empire was through Arad and his magical engineering. Careless disclosure of information, even in small amounts, could lead to catastrophic consequences if it leaked to the Empire.

‘But what’s this about the witches? It doesn’t seem to be just a matter of pride,’ Arad thought, his curiosity piqued.

However, Arina didn’t leave him much time to ponder as she continued speaking.

“Then... I suppose this bag will remain one of a kind for the time being?”

“That’s correct. I wouldn’t make something this labor-intensive again,” Arad replied.

“I see. So, what will happen to this bag? Even just this one would fetch an enormous price…”

“No, Your Grace. I’m not selling it,” Arad interrupted firmly.

“What...? Oh, is it because of reverse engineering? Now that I think about it, even if it were mass-produced, selling it would be impossible.”

“You needn’t worry about reverse engineering. The bag is equipped with a mechanism that destroys all magical circuits if an unauthorized person attempts to disassemble it,” Arad explained calmly.

“...?”

If he wasn’t planning to sell it, why had he shown it in the first place?

Arina glanced at Arad, her eyes narrowing slightly, suspicion bubbling in her mind.

For now, she decided to wait and hear his full explanation.

“Well then, Your Grace, please go ahead and register yourself as the owner!” Arad said with a cheerful smile, extending the bag toward her.

“Just place your finger here, on the white mana stone,” he instructed.

“M-Me?”

Finally understanding Arad’s intent, Arina’s eyes widened in surprise.

No—she’d suspected from the moment he had first unveiled the bag, entertaining a fleeting “what if” in her mind.

But she’d pushed the thought aside, unwilling to raise her hopes only to be disappointed.

“It’s… mine?”

“Yes. It’s a gift, Your Grace,” Arad confirmed.

“A gift...? Why... all of a sudden?”

As the beautiful, fascinating, and miraculous bag became a tangible reality before her eyes, Arina found herself overwhelmed by a mix of joy, confusion, and embarrassment.

“No particular reason. I simply wanted to. Now, go ahead and place your hand on it,” Arad said, his tone casual and direct.

“Y-You just... felt like it...?”

“Yes. May I have your hand for a moment?”

Before she could respond, Arad gently took hold of her right wrist and guided her index finger to touch the mana stone embedded in the bag.

“This bag’s name, by the way, is… Arad’s Devotion,” he added softly.

“D-Devotion?!”

As Arad held her wrist and murmured the bag’s name, Arina’s face flushed deep red, her ears burning with heat.

‘Oh my goodness… Is this a dream or reality?’

‘Quick, someone inform Lady Isabelle of this immediately!’

‘Spring has come... Spring has truly arrived in the North.’

Even if Arad was a benefactor to the North, grabbing the Grand Duchess’s wrist so boldly would typically be unthinkable.

Yet none of the maids, knights, or even Arina herself could bring themselves to interrupt this seemingly fateful moment.

***

Renslet Castle, known colloquially as ‘High Castle,’ stood as the North’s guardian, positioned at the heart of the Northern Great Wall.

The name "Northern Grand Duchy" originally referred to this very fortress.

This was the distinction between the North and the Northern Grand Duchy.

From the polar orcs crossing glaciers and icebergs to the myriad of monsters and barbarian tribes descending from the fringes of the Manus Mountain Range, High Castle and the Northern Great Wall had always served as a steadfast bulwark against these savage foes.

Renslet Castle and the sprawling Northern Great Wall surrounding it were the lifeblood of the North, the Empire’s roof, and the Arcadia continent’s helmet.

“Soon has sent a letter.”

Standing atop one of the towering spires of the Northern Great Wall, Arina gently coaxed a white falcon to perch on her left shoulder.

Tied to the falcon’s leg was a short report from Soon, who was leading the Frostshield Legion in subjugating the polar orcs.

“Judging by the white seal on the letter, it doesn’t seem to contain bad news,” one of the officials standing nearby remarked, watching as Arina unrolled the letter.

“It appears we won’t have to worry about their invasions for the next three years,” Arina said with a faint but noticeable smile after reading its contents.

“Ah, what a relief!”

“Hahaha, that’s excellent news,” the officials and knights around her exclaimed, their spirits lifting visibly.

“Paper and a quill,” Arina requested, tossing the finished letter into a brazier atop the spire.

“Allow me to write the reply on your behalf, Your Grace,” High Official Haitai offered.

“No, Soon recognizes my handwriting,” Arina replied firmly.

“Understood.”

Haitai handed her a quill dipped in ink along with a sheet of white paper secured on a small writing board.

Arina composed a brief reply:

I am well, and the North remains steadfast. Focus on your return, but do not overexert yourselves. Minimize the sacrifices of your soldiers. I wish for your safe return and will prepare a grand feast in celebration.

Soon, unaware of the recent events surrounding Arina, would surely rush back to High Castle if he learned of her troubles. Knowing his personality, he’d push himself and his troops to their limits to do so.

“Tsk! Go now,” Arina said, fastening the reply to the falcon’s leg.

With a sharp cry, the well-trained winter falcon soared into the sky, disappearing into the horizon.

Having completed the letter exchange, Arina resumed her inspection of the wall.

“It feels good to be out for an inspection after so long,” she commented.

“Please take care not to overexert yourself,” a knight cautioned.

“Of course. Let’s head down soon. I’d like to check on the lives of the common folk as well.”

As Arina strolled along the wall, a distinctive bag hung at her side like an extension of herself.

Despite her Northern-style coat and armor, the palm-sized bag maintained its presence—a striking accessory against her robust attire.

Walking, Arina habitually brushed her fingers over the bag at her hip, as though reassured by its touch.

‘The Grand Duchess truly seems to adore the bag Arad presented her,’ thought one of the officials, their gaze flicking to the accessory.

‘Well, it’s certainly well-crafted.’

‘And it’s said to have four incredible enchantments. If I had one, I wouldn’t let it out of my sight either.’

‘If we had just five more of those bags, we could fund the North for two years without worry…’

The officials observed their ruler’s subtle attachment to the bag, their eyes glinting with curiosity and admiration.

Since receiving the gift from Arad, Arina had rarely been seen without it.

She wore it during meals, while wielding her sword, and even during her administrative duties.

Rumor had it that even while bathing, Arad’s Devotion stayed close by.

Some whispered that she might even sleep with it strapped to her side.