NoveLight ™
The High Fortress Audience Chamber.
The hall was crowded with countless people.
High-ranking ministers, maids, attendants, knights, and even witches—all stared in a daze at the new miracle born in the North.
At the center of their gaze were seventeen celadon pieces made by Arad Company.
Originally, there had been twenty. Two had gone to Theo and Arina, and one had been sacrificed for quality control testing.
“Impressive.”
In the absence of Balzac, who had recently left on a mission, the North’s defense and Arina’s security were overseen by Suun. His admiration was sincere.
“Truly impressive.”
For Suun the Northern Ice Wall, art had always been something distant and irrelevant.
Yet, the words of admiration continued to spill from his lips.
Clink, clink, clink.
“To think it’s this sturdy. The Empire’s porcelain would shatter with just a wrong grip.”
Of course, Suun’s appreciation wasn’t for the celadon’s beauty or elegant design.
It was purely for its sturdiness.
“What exactly are you?”
Having finished his rough inspection of the celadon, Suun turned his sharp gaze to Arad.
“I’m nothing more than what the rumors say.”
“Oh, sure. You’re quite something, Count Jin.”
“Haha…”
The brief exchange between Arad and Suun carried no warmth.
They had spoken before, on several unfortunate occasions.
These conversations had built up a hefty amount of mutual irritation between the two.
“How are things going with this Lady Mary?”
“There’s nothing between us.”
“...What? Do you perhaps like men?”
“That’s not—”
“Her Grace is entering!”
Just then, Isabel’s voice echoed from the throne side of the chamber.
The disorganized crowd immediately snapped into orderly rows, as though they had never been in chaos.
“Presenting Her Grace, the Grand Duchess.”
After Isabel’s announcement, Arina entered and took her seat upon the throne.
“So, this is the celadon.”
Arina feigned ignorance as she looked at the seventeen celadon pieces.
“Count Arad Jin, you’ve done an excellent job. Truly. Thanks to you, the North is on its way to becoming rich.”
However, Arina had never been skilled at acting.
Her attempt to look impressed was clumsy at best.
To be precise, it was closer to indifferent.
“For the production of this celadon, Renslet will spare no resources or support. I swear it on the Flame of Devotion.”
Despite her weak acting, her words flowed smoothly—undoubtedly thanks to Isabel’s coaching. The problem was her tone and expression didn’t quite match, off by two notes at least.
“Your generosity is boundless, Your Grace.”
The supreme ruler of the North had openly promised her support.
Not a single minister dared to object.
They knew she was right.
“What do you plan to do with these seventeen celadon pieces?”
“Soon, there will be countless more. However, these are the first ever made, so their significance is unique.”
“And by that, you mean…?”
“I wish to offer all these celadon pieces to Your Grace. After all, your birthday is approaching.”
“Truly?”
“Yes, consider it a gift from me to celebrate your birthday.”
“Hmm! I-I will treasure them dearly, Arad!”
‘Celadon made personally by Arad? And it’s my birthday gift?!’
For the first time, a flicker of genuine emotion crept into Arina’s voice, breaking through her usual stiffness.
“But, Your Grace, there is something I wish to ask you.”
“Speak.”
“It’s… a rather sensitive matter. I’d prefer to discuss it privately.”
“...Very well. Come to my office.”
With that, Arina granted Arad a private audience, though a strange tension lingered in the air.
***
A short while later.
The office door opened, and Arad emerged, looking exceptionally pleased.
“Well then, I’ll take my leave, Your Grace!”
“Yes, go on.”
“Once preparations are ready, please summon me. I will dedicate my life’s masterpiece to you.”
“…I look forward to it.”
Arina personally escorted Arad out, though her expression was faintly drained.
Once Arad had completely disappeared from view—
“Haa…”
She let out a long sigh.
Her mind replayed the conversation she had just had with Arad.
“Why do you want to paint me and Mary together?”
“Mary is such a kind woman. She truly respects Your Grace from the bottom of her heart. She takes great pride in being part of Renslet.”
“Hmm…”
“She’s a treasured employee of mine. I simply wanted to give her a small gift. To her, Your Grace is like a real older sister.”
“…Is that so?”
“Yes. If this has offended you, I apologize deeply. I’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit.”
“No, it’s fine. I understand your intent.”
Arad had praised her.
When she was Mary, he had spoken well of Arina.
And now as Arina, he had spoken highly of Mary.
The praise left her feeling pleased yet strangely unsettled.
“Hoo…”
Outside the office, Isabel, who had been eavesdropping, also sighed.
“Sigh… Tsk tsk tsk.”
At some point, Suun had appeared beside her, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.
Having taken over Balzac’s duties for the time being, Suun was well aware of what Arina was doing under her alternate persona, Mary.
The three of them, as if by silent agreement, had gathered in the vicinity of the office.
“Your guess was spot on, Hag.”
“It seems so.”
“From what I’ve gathered, both the knights assigned to guard duty and Arad’s employees share similar thoughts.”
“This whole situation has gotten far too tangled.”
“I’ll look further into the illusion magic I mentioned earlier.”
“Please do.”
All three stood there for a moment, staring blankly in the direction Arad had disappeared.
A gust of wind, as cold and sharp as the Northern winter itself, swept past them.
***
Unlike in the past, the North had recently become a mandatory stop for Imperial merchants.
The reason? Because the North had Arad Salt, Arad Salt, and—yes—Arad Salt.
Sure, there were rare monster byproducts and magic stones, but those could be found elsewhere across the continent with enough effort.
Only Arad Salt was unique. For that alone, countless Imperial merchants made their way to the North—specifically, Haven.
Recently, anywhere outside of Haven in the North was less welcoming to Imperial merchants and adventurers.
“What? You don’t need porcelain?!”
Thus, Imperial merchants visiting Haven now faced an entirely new issue.
“Listen here! Are you out of your minds? This Eastern porcelain vase, I’m selling it for just one gold coin! Do you understand? It’s the Crown Prince’s direct order to sell it for half price! In the Empire, it trades for two gold coins!”
One day, the Northern merchants in Haven had simply stopped buying porcelain.
Not reduced their purchases—completely stopped.
Zero.
“One gold coin, you say? For this vase? No thanks.”
Even when the Imperial merchants thought they were slashing prices dramatically,
not a single Northern merchant showed interest.
‘These uncultured, barbaric fools! It’s just as I expected! Even His Highness, the Crown Prince, must feel frustrated! How can you spread culture and civilization to people who don’t even know the first thing about art?!’
The Imperial merchant cursed the Northerners in his mind.
“Then tell me—how much would you pay? How much would you even consider?”
He was genuinely curious, wondering just how deep their ignorance and stupidity ran.
“Hmm… Maybe for one silver coin, I’d think about it.”
“Are you out of your minds?!”
The Northern merchant’s absurd reply made the Imperial merchant curse out loud without meaning to.
“What?! You’re the crazy ones! Who would pay one gold coin for this ugly white bowl?!”
The Northern merchant didn’t stay quiet either. Instead, he mocked the Imperial merchant’s offered price.
“Here, look! This is the kind of porcelain we use in the North nowadays!”
With that, the Northern merchant proudly showed him a celadon piece, its blue surface glowing with a soft, ethereal light.
“!!”
The Imperial merchant’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
The first thing that seized his attention was the brilliant color.
Then, when he noticed the shape and patterns—entirely different from Eastern porcelain and distinctly Arcadian in style—he was instantly captivated.
“W-what is this? I’ve never seen anything like it… Where did you get this porcelain? I’ll buy it all! I’ll pay two gold coins per piece for your entire stock!”
In an instant, the Imperial merchant transformed. Bowing politely, he even addressed the Northern merchant with honorifics, desperation oozing from every word.
“……”
The Northern merchant, however, didn’t seem impressed. He casually tapped the celadon against the cart.
Clink, clink, clink, clink.
A clear, resonant sound rang out from the celadon.
“AAAAAHH! Stop! Stop that! It’ll break!”
The Imperial merchant screamed like a lunatic, his face contorted in horror.
To his eyes, this precious and fragile porcelain was being handled roughly by a Northerner who clearly didn’t know its value.
“Hmm?”
Then, slowly, realization dawned on him.
The blue porcelain—this strange and beautiful celadon—wasn’t breaking.
“W-what…? W-why… isn’t it breaking?”
At that moment, the Imperial merchant understood.
His soul was now for sale, and the price was that beautiful, unbreakable celadon.
***
The Bishop Merchant Guild, one of the Empire’s top three trading guilds.
Its leader, Entir, was a man who had carved out an extraordinary position for himself within the Empire.
Born as the third son of a fallen minor noble family, Entir’s life had effectively begun with nothing.
Yet today, he stood as the head of one of the most prominent merchant guilds in the Empire.
That alone was impressive, but Entir had also married well.
With his overwhelming wealth and proven abilities, he wed into the prestigious House of Marquis Havana, a branch family of the Imperial line renowned across the Empire.
Incidentally, the woman he married was so well-known that there wasn’t a single soul on the continent unaware of her.
She was Elisha von Havana, the Empire’s only female marquis and the Blazing Flame Swordmaster.
A house brimming with honor and military strength but recently facing financial ruin due to failed ventures.
A man with immense wealth but in need of power and status.
Their union was like strapping wings onto a tiger.
On top of that, Entir possessed exceptional political acumen.
Leveraging his vast resources and his wife’s reputation, he dominated the Empire’s social circles in no time.
As a result, Entir carved out a rare position for himself:
A man who straddled the line between the Imperial family and the House of Lords, serving as an intermediary between the two.
People referred to him as the Shadow Chancellor.
With overwhelming wealth, a prestigious in-law family, a beautiful Swordmaster wife, and a magnificent title like Shadow Chancellor,
Entir appeared to lack nothing.
Not even the Emperor, the Crown Prince, or the Church’s Archbishop seemed enviable compared to him.
And indeed, Entir was the happiest man in the world.
Or at least, he had been until recently.
***
The happiness that had seemed eternal,
The dreamlike bliss Entir once lived in - shattered in a way that, perhaps, was inevitable.
‘Why is it? Why do my children… not look like me at all?’
Entir had always been exceptionally skilled at observing people.
He and his wife, Havana, had two children—a son and a daughter, born two years apart.
Honestly, even when they were newborns, he had felt an inexplicable chill deep inside.
Unlike his plain face, the children’s features were strikingly sharp and beautiful.
Moreover, both children had blonde hair and red eyes, the unmistakable symbols of the Imperial bloodline.
It was completely unrelated to his dark brown hair and brown eyes.
Still, at the time, he had comforted himself with excuses. His wife, after all, was a renowned beauty carrying royal blood. Surely the children had just taken after her.
But as time passed, and the children began to toddle, speak, and play—
Entir could no longer ignore the truth.
The two children shared not a single resemblance to him.
‘The Crown Prince! They look exactly like the Crown Prince!’
Especially his son. The older the boy grew, the more he became a mirror image of Crown Prince Canbraman.
To explain it away, one could lean on the Havana family’s deep Imperial lineage.
After all, within the Imperial family, there were occasionally relatives who bore striking resemblances to the Crown Prince.
‘This is impossible!’
But every fiber of Entir’s instincts screamed the truth at him—
There wasn’t a single drop of his blood in those children.