Telling a wizard or a witch, "Your magic was flawed from the design stage!" is an incredibly bold statement to make.

It’s not just an insult to the magician but also to their mentor and entire school of magic.

And in this case, the creator of the greenhouse farm was none other than the Great Witch of Spring.

In the worst-case scenario, I might even be cursed—a death sentence in this world.

Even so, I continued speaking.

“The greenhouse farm’s role is to make the climate warm, enrich the soil, and maximize harvests. Those are the commands the spirits were given.”

“……”

“And those commands are also an opportunity for the spirits.”

Spirits, when compared to Earth’s standards, are akin to natural AI.

Once given a legitimate contract, they will achieve the assigned objective using any means necessary.

“Whenever spirits fulfill a summoner’s request, their power grows.”

Isabelle listened to my words with a tense expression.

“They don’t need to fight hard battles. Just farming in the greenhouse steadily increases their strength. And every year, at that! For them, these greenhouses in High Castle are more valuable than a gold mine.”

In that process, competition between the spirits must have intensified. It reached a point where some spirits crossed the line and began draining the land’s fertility around High Castle.

As a result, the land of the North rapidly lost its fertility, which would eventually lead to the Great Northern Famine.

“And what happens if the contractor realizes the reason for the land’s deterioration?”

“They’d lose this wonderful gold mine, wouldn’t they?”

“Spirits are pure yet cunning. Sometimes, they can be as close to pure malice as possible.”

“That’s true. Such is nature.”

Having listened to my explanation and understanding the situation, Isabelle murmured bitterly, her gaze heavy with contemplation.

“We’ll have to shut down the greenhouse farm.”

Her voice carried a resolute determination befitting an old witch.

“We’ll temporarily close it down and rebuild it. I’ll help with that. However, for the year or two it takes to demolish and reconstruct the greenhouse farm, food supplies will be tight.”

The North is already a land where food is scarce.

The harsh cold leaves little arable land, livestock farming is limited due to the abundance of monsters and wild beasts, and hunting is dangerous.

The primary sources of food for the North are limited farmland, restrained livestock farming, hazardous hunting, and provisions sold by Imperial merchants.

“There are still some reserves stocked away discreetly, and I heard the delegation managed to significantly lower the prices of wheat and rye from the Empire this time. We’ll manage to get by somehow.”

Isabelle shrugged at my concern.

“Before heading to the greenhouse farm, I should first visit Her Grace the Grand Duchess.”

“I’ll also look for ways to secure food supplies.”

“Sir Arad, focus more on the company’s affairs. Producing more items like Arad Salt is far more important.”

“I’ll help as much as I can without neglecting my main duties.”

“Really… Sir Arad, you are the North’s blessing.”

Hearing Isabelle’s reaction, I felt a deep sense of relief.

‘Looks like I won’t be cursed after all. Thank goodness Isabelle is such a big-hearted person. Truly. She didn’t rise to the rank of Great Witch for nothing.’

To my immense relief, Isabelle showed no displeasure at my report.

“Oh, by the way! Sir Arad, are you considering hiring staff for the Arad Company?”

Surprisingly, Isabelle seemed grateful for my research and was even trying to help in any way she could.

“Staff? Yes, I do need to hire some.”

She offered to introduce me to someone.

An incredibly kind offer, considering how difficult it is to find employees who can read, write, and do calculations in this world with a high illiteracy rate.

Not to mention, security was a major concern as well.

“Her Grace will likely assign a high-ranking knight as a bodyguard… but you’ll need administrative staff and an assistant for production?”

“Yes! The problem is that finding someone with both the skills and trustworthiness needed for such positions is quite challenging.”

“I figured as much. Her Grace is far too indifferent sometimes. What if you collapse from overwork, Sir Arad?”

“Haha…”

“For the production assistant, you mean crafting tools and equipment, correct? What level of expertise are you looking for?”

“Two-circle mastery will suffice. I’m also a two-circle mage.”

“That’s excellent news! I happen to know someone who can assist with both production and administrative tasks. Would you like to hire them?”

“I’d be delighted. But… are they by any chance a witch?”

I fiddled with my collar as I asked, recalling the frost-filled glare I once received from the Grand Duchess for associating with young witches.

“They’re not a witch, so you don’t need to worry. They’re a two-circle-level junior adventurer who’s quick with calculations and competent with administrative work.”

Hearing this, I was reassured. If not a witch, it’s likely a male employee.

Even though witches don’t generally differentiate between genders for menial tasks, I assumed this was the case.

And since this was a recommendation from none other than the Great Witch of Spring, Isabelle herself, it carried significant weight.

‘She probably intends for this person to also monitor me while assisting.’

“Oh! Is that so? I’d love to hire them.”

I readily accepted Isabelle’s suggestion as there was nothing suspicious about it.

“However, they already have a primary occupation.”

“A primary occupation?”

“Yes, but it’s better than having no help at all.”

“Well… understood. I’m not in a position to be picky at this point.”

The fact that the person already had another job concerned me slightly, but I dismissed it as likely being something like a part-time escort. It didn’t seem like a big deal.

***

The atmosphere inside High Castle gradually softened to match the gentle spring weather outside.

The scent of spring filled the air, as if the bloody purges of the past had never happened.

“Well, it can’t be helped. Still, it’s a relief we discovered this sooner rather than later.”

Having listened to Isabelle’s report, Arina nodded and stamped her seal on the documents in front of her.

“Truly… I am so ashamed, my lady… no, Your Grace! Please, punish me. Punish me as you see fit.”

Despite her advanced age and her status as the Great Witch, Isabelle bowed low, her posture humble.

Normally, she behaved like a kind, maternal figure to the Grand Duchess, but in situations like this, her demeanor shifted entirely.

This behavior was likely ingrained over the long years of oppression endured by witches, subtly becoming a part of their very nature.

“It’s fine. The farm, while not perfect, helped the North overcome countless crises. If anything, I should reward you, not punish you.”

Arina dismissed Isabelle’s confession without hesitation.

“Is he… doing well?”

She quickly changed the subject.

“He just put up the official sign for his new company at High Castle. The opening ceremony is scheduled soon.”

Isabelle, as if expecting her liege’s reaction, replied with a suddenly brightened expression.

“Did he… ask about me?”

“Of course, he did.”

“What… what did he say?”

Arina’s face lit up noticeably.

“He said he hasn’t seen you around lately and that he misses you.”

“...Oh? Oh!”

Arina’s expression froze at Isabelle’s teasing tone.

“Don’t… don’t mock me. Report properly. If you keep teasing, no matter your age, I will have to impose a harsh punishment.”

A few seconds later, realizing Isabelle’s playful tone, Arina pouted, her lips protruding. Her cheeks and ears were undeniably red.

“But it’s true that he’s worried about not seeing you lately.”

“...!”

“Why not call him to you? Keep him by your side. He’s already a Count; assigning him a formal courtly position would not be inappropriate.”

“No! If he gets entangled with me, he’ll be in danger!”

“Your Grace…? Arad is already in danger. It would be safer for him to receive an official guard detail sooner rather than later.”

“That’s not what I mean… What if he ends up with a short life just because he’s connected to the Grand Duchy…?”

“How many times must I tell you that’s just a superstition? Even the Imperial family doesn’t believe that nonsense, so why should you?”

“Well, still… I… already…”

Arina stumbled over her words, flustered by Isabelle’s persistence.

‘Tsk, tsk…’

The Great Witch sighed inwardly, shaking her head as she looked at her young liege.

At this moment, Arina’s impressive background—being the youngest Sword Master in history and the Grand Duchess of the Northern Renslet—seemed irrelevant.

In Isabelle’s eyes, Arina appeared no different from any other young lady her age.

‘It was amusing at first, but now it’s just frustrating.’

Arina was experiencing her first spring, a metaphor for budding feelings, but it had long since stagnated.

‘Of all times, she had to put up a wall back then…’

Isabelle had a rough idea of the events between Arina and Arad.

Through subtle hints Arina had let slip during their conversations and testimonies from the high-ranking knights who had endured hardships together in the Abyss, Isabelle pieced it together.

Arad had confessed to Arina during their time in the Abyss, and Arina had rejected him. Now, she regretted it.

“For his safety, it would be better to officially make him part of the court.”

“But… I already turned him down back then. And now… he seems to avoid me…”

“Arad is avoiding marrying you? Are you certain about that?”

“I… I’m not certain… It’s just a feeling…”

“Hmm… Then this time, you should confess to him instead.”

“M-m-me?! No! Impossible! H-how could I? Isabelle, are you trying to embarrass me to death? I’d rather face 100,000 Imperial soldiers alone!”

Arina’s reaction to Isabelle’s mischievous suggestion was almost like a seizure, as she vehemently rejected the idea.

‘Well, confessing to someone you rejected isn’t easy, no matter how strong one’s heart is.’

In such a conservative society, the concept of a woman confessing was nearly nonexistent.

Moreover, Arina wasn’t just any woman—she was the Grand Duchess of a border region.

Even worse, she had been the one to reject Arad’s initial confession. To reverse the roles now?

“Ugh…”

Even the thought of it seemed dizzying, as Arina staggered slightly.

“And… it must be certain, mustn’t it? You’re the one who told me I should only marry someone who truly loves me to ensure an heir.”

And then, the most decisive reason emerged.

“To be certain of his feelings, Arad must confess to me first.”

“Well, that’s fair enough.”

Even Isabelle, who had been dismissing superstitions and teasing about confessions, agreed.

In truth, Isabelle internally acknowledged the curse that loomed over the Renslet Duchy.

She had merely wrapped it in the guise of superstition to maintain appearances.

‘I’m glad I’ve already laid some groundwork with Arad.’

Isabelle’s eyes gleamed as she addressed Arina.

“Then, what if Arad proposes again? What will you do then?”

“...!”

“You’ll accept it, won’t you?”

“...”

“I’ll take your silence as a yes.”

“...What choice do I have…? He seems to have completely given up since that time…”

“There’s a way, of course. Incidentally, I developed a transformation spell inspired by Arad’s magical tools.”

“Transformation?”

“Yes.”

Isabelle grinned slyly and asked her liege in a suggestive tone.

“Your Grace, have you ever considered going undercover to work in his company?”

“...?”

It took Arina a few moments to process Isabelle’s seemingly outlandish suggestion.

“You mean… I should work at Arad’s company? With him?”

“Yes!”

“Isabelle! I am the Grand Duchess of the North.”

Arina’s tone grew stern.

“There’s meaning in taking on different roles, but as the Grand Duchess, I have my duties as a ruler.”

Her words weren’t about status but responsibility.

“Oh, since when have you been so diligent with state affairs? Isn’t it always me and Haitai managing everything while you just drop by High Castle to sign off on documents?”

At Isabelle’s sharp retort, which carried years of accumulated frustration, Arina was momentarily speechless.

“Well…!”

“Both you, your predecessor, and even her predecessors—none of you ever cared about administration. If neglecting state affairs is a tradition, it must be a Renslet one.”

“...!”

Arina had no rebuttal.

Even before becoming Grand Duchess, and even more so after assuming the position, Arina frequently roamed the North under the guise of clandestine inspections.

This was only possible because such a system had been in place for generations.

“Now that I think about it, it’s quite remarkable the North has survived so well despite all this.”

“Well, that’s because the Grand Duchesses traditionally handled administration…”

The North, perpetually plagued by war and invasions, had always prioritized martial prowess, charisma, and leadership over political or administrative skills in its rulers.

For the people of the North, seeing their ruler wield a sword on the battlefield did more to reassure them than having a leader poring over paperwork in a castle.

Naturally, this left the governance to the Grand Duchesses, witches, and bureaucrats.

“Exactly. The Grand Duchesses have always done much to support state affairs. In that sense, Your Grace should also take a spouse soon…”

“...”

Arina’s shoulders slumped.