MCFPM 57

chapter 57

The moment Sheryloth took out the communication orb, it flared with white light.
That glow—someone trying to contact the Grand Duke—immediately drew every noble’s gaze.

She clicked her tongue at her own impulsiveness.

If she turned this on here, both nobles and priests would hear everything Lenne or Rodier reported.

Depending on the contents, her words could turn into scraps of paper—or gain tremendous weight.
As she hesitated, unsure whether to activate it, the orb flickered erratically.

‘That happens when the mana link is unstable…’

And one of the causes of unstable mana links was holy power.

Sheryloth had learned to act with caution. She’d failed and fallen too many times before.
But when she saw the orb flicker, her heart stirred.

It was anticipation—an emotion she had never once allowed herself to feel freely.

Sheryloth activated the communication orb.

Silence fell the instant it came on.
The blizzard outside roared with a harsh, grating noise.

A faint murmur rippled through the guests like fish scales.
Had even the Northern Knights and the Academy mages failed?

Even if the knights had grown weak these past years, their experience as monster hunters couldn’t be denied.
And even if magitech engineers weren’t as reliable as battle mages, at least they should’ve been able to find the cause of this situation.

But now, with the Grand Duke’s communication orb showing no response, unease spread among the people like oil.
If someone lit a match here, that oil would erupt like a bomb.

Then—

“…Sheryl?”

A clear, familiar voice flowed from the orb.

The Pope’s eyebrows twitched.
Countess Kelonia, recognizing the voice, whispered softly,

“Your Highness…”

Answering that, Grand Duke Baskalia’s son, who had cleared his throat, spoke to Duke Chartreuse.

“Would you look out the window for me?”

The Duke slowly tilted his head up, and everyone’s eyes followed to the window.

The moment he finished speaking, the fierce wind outside died away—as if it had all been a lie.

The light streaming through the window grew warmer in hue.
The frost clinging to the window frame sparkled like diamonds.

The snowstorm had stopped.

Realizing the chill had lifted, Sheryloth’s fingertips trembled.

She turned and smiled at Leonard’s grim face—and at Odelli, who silently sipped her wine at the next table.

* * *

Evening.
While both the nobles and the townsfolk were spending time with their families,
the mages and knights who’d handled the rift cleanup returned to the castle through the rear entrance—accessible only to insiders.

“Damn, I thought I was gonna freeze to death out there!”

Rodier was the first to burst in, stomping and shaking the snow off his coat.
It wasn’t exactly swearing, but his wild appearance made Sheryloth and Liam, who’d been waiting, burst into helpless laughter.

Liam covered his face, embarrassed.
When he pointed silently to Lenne, who had entered without a sound, and scolded Rodier to take notes from him,
the next group arrived—Koberic’s team, utterly spent, half-carried by the knights.

“Rough day?”
“Ugh, yeah. It was almost as bad as when I followed your cousin’s subjugation squad.”
“…You’re serious.”

Sheryloth didn’t waste time with empty sympathy—she pushed them into rooms where they could rest.
It took her more effort to make sure none of them secretly walked off with borrowed magical tools.

Finally, the last one entered.

“Sheryl.”
“…Eonian.”
“You all right?”
“…”

For a moment, she just stared blankly at him, lips twitching.

It sounded like a question of concern, but she knew better—what Eonian really meant was, Did I time my entrance well?

“You set the barrier?”
“Yeah. Had a hard time not disrupting the spell on the castle walls. Everyone else was freezing, but I was sweating like crazy.”
“Ha!”

When he fanned himself with his hand, Sheryloth couldn’t help laughing—it was irresistible.

After laughing for a while, she reached for his gloves.

“…What are you doing?”
“You said you were hot. Then why are your knuckles so red?”
“They get red because I was hot.”
“Oh, please.”

Sheryloth playfully waved his gloves and gently took his hand.
Unlike her own warm fingers, his were cold and stiff.

“You worked hard.”
“…Huh?”
“You did well.”

When she held his hand and gave it a light pat, Eonian froze like a statue.
Sheryloth didn’t stop there—she patted his shoulder, too.

“Thank you. You always give your best.”
“…”
“I mean it.”

And in that moment, she was sure of it.

At the end of the year, when she looked back, the best decision she’d made would undoubtedly be marrying Eonian.

* * *

Two days before the wedding.

As the sun rose again, the nobles regained their composure.
But since the cause of the rift hadn’t been found, danger still lingered.
Eonian’s use of holy power had only erased the visible rifts.
Even now, new ones might be slowly reappearing somewhere.

She skimmed through a report noting that the guests’ frequent use of the hot springs wasn’t due to the cold—
but because they were genuinely satisfied with them—while she connected to another video orb.

“It’s been a while, Mina.”

She was checking on the city governed by Mina, the administrator she’d dispatched.

“How’s the weather there?”
—The weather, ma’am?

Mina’s face brightened at seeing her liege again, but then she looked out the window and frowned slightly.

—Quite nice, actually. It hasn’t snowed yet.

…What?

If the new rifts were of the emission-linked type, and since the source hadn’t been eliminated,
then Mina’s city should have been affected too.

Sheryloth asked about the harvest, but Mina smiled—everything was bountiful.
There wasn’t a hint of someone who had suffered cold or blizzards.

“…Hoo.”

After ending the call, Sheryloth pulled out Koberic’s observation notes on the rifts.

[The farther from the center, the fewer rifts appear.]

She focused on the fact that the outer areas had fewer rifts than Lavre Castle itself—
as if all the rifts had opened around Lavre Castle.

‘But the castle doesn’t have a linked magic circle—I already checked.’

That meant Odelli hadn’t created ordinary artificial rifts.
She had directly torn space apart—
a high-level spatial spell.

In other words, the magic Odelli prepared wasn’t a linked array,
but a personal act of spatial sorcery powered entirely by her own ability.

“…Hah.”

Sheryloth exhaled quietly.

She had thought the north grew cold the moment Odelli opened the window.
But actually—

‘I don’t have a drop of mana myself… so I never really understood how far mages could go.’

A dry laugh escaped her.

Scratching her head, she crumpled up yet another letter reminding her to return the wedding ring prototype.

You probably expected me to lose my way, didn’t you?

Sorry—but I didn’t wander for long.
And I won’t in the future, either.

Her sharp eyes turned toward the mansion window.

She might not know the full extent of Odelli’s powers,
but she did know roughly how much mana the woman had.
And even Odelli’s supply wasn’t limitless.

‘So there must be a source of mana nearby that Odelli used.
For a spatial spell of that magnitude, she must have drawn mana from somewhere.’

Sheryloth gazed toward the craft district outside.
The magic lanterns lining the road to the hot springs glowed red—
drawing on heat energy from underground.

And the source connected to those hot springs was—again—the Lavre volcano.

The material that best holds mana after living beings is rock.
And flowing rock—lava—contains immense magical energy, like refined mana stones.
The glowing streetlights were proof of that.

That left only one answer.

“…Not the inner castle—halfway up the mountain.”

Somewhere between the inner castle and the volcano,
there existed a magic circle that interfered with the volcano’s mana.