Secret Wardrobe Of The Duchess - Chapter 233

“In a world where power determines everything, the most dangerous weapon isn't a sword... it's knowing what happens tomorrow.”※※※Cast aside by his own noble family, Vaerik Tudor finds himself exiled to the merciless Northern Province—a frozen wasteland where most are sent to die.No magic. No special bloodline. No legendary weapon.Just when death seems certain, something unexpected activates: a mysterious Daily Intelligence System that provides him critical information about the future.[As the sun rises tomorrow, a dead god's massive body will break through the ice-covered lake, with its heart somehow still beating, pulsing with the ancient power of winter itself.][One young wolf, fiercer than all the rest, fought and defeated every other cub in the red valley territory, becoming the new leader of the entire pack.][Nearly forty battle-scarred giant wolves are right now creeping through the valley to the southeast, with muscles ready to spring and teeth ready to bite, planning to take over your land when night falls.][A never-ending wave of walking dead bodies will soon swallow up every country on this land mass, with the human race barely surviving—for every million people alive today, only one will remain.][A runaway princess from the northern tribe has fled to the red valley lands, but weakened by starvation and freezing temperatures, she has collapsed unconscious in the barren wilderness and will be eaten by a giant white bear before sunset today.]While southern nobles drown in their politics and pleasure, Vaerik is building something unprecedented in the frozen north. A domain where slaves become free citizens. Where barren wasteland transforms into fertile fields. Where loyalty is earned, not demanded.But the north holds ancient dangers...Frost dragons shriek dominance above his impenetrable cold-forged bulwark.Frost giants patrol the mines containing precious magical marrow. Barbarian tribes plot revenge against imperial invaders. Religious zealots hunt for heretics. And an unstoppable threat looms on the distant horizon that could consume the entire continent.Winter is coming, and this storm will eventually engulf the entire continent. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.※※※Warning: Contains fortress-building, territory management, strategic battles, hidden talents, and a protagonist who rises from forgotten exile to become the most feared lord in the north. For fans of kingdom-building, strategic progression, and war.

“Y-young master, the Lord is requesting your presence.”

I looked at myself in the mirror as a maid's voice, laced with trepidation, reached my ears.

“Tell him I'll be there shortly.”

“I understand, y-young master.”

I paid no mind to her quivering presence, my gaze fixed on my reflection.

And this is exactly why I despise this character, Yes, He is a villain with my name but does it matter, no, the problem is this guy's weight he is so heavy that this tub of lard is weighing me down, literally.

For someone who prides themselves on muscle, nothing's worse than “fat,” and this guy before me? Well, he's a prime example of that.

“I suppose I need a workout.”

Reaching the door, exhaustion gripped me and I found myself gasping for breath. It was unbelievable – this body was so darn heavy.

After an arduous struggle, I finally made my way out of the room, causing servants carrying a litter¹ to scurry over. They lowered it, creating a path for me to step onto it.

I tried to ignore the spectacle – it was this pampering that turned this fatty into a giant tire. Pushing the annoyance aside, I began to move, managing only about 10 steps before my legs gave out.

Damn it. Seriously? I collapsed, leaving the twenty servants to hastily lift me and place me onto the litter. For me, it felt more like a stretcher. There I was, sprawled on it like some mountain, panting heavily.

“You damn god! I hope the protagonist of your favorite novel gets NTRed!”

“We're here, young master.”

Can you believe it? his father's office is just thirty steps away from this pumpkin room, yet he insists on using a litter.

“Give me a hand.”

I ordered while cursing this hefty body under my breath.

“Oh, come, come, my dear child. How was your day?”

I glanced at the middle-aged man, his face exuding warmth and care.

As for my feelings? This old man right here is the reason this chubby exists. Not that I give a darn about my indulgent father.

“I'm alright, Dad.”

Yes, imagine this: as a noble, this old man spoiled this pumpkin so much that he thinks he can go around scolding the mansion's maids and servants.

“Take a seat. Hey, fetch his chair!”

You might wonder why he doesn't sit on a regular chair. Well, that's because the chair is custom-made to accommodate this hippo-sized frame.

“What's going on, Dad?”

Seriously, why would he summon this big old hippo over to his quarters? There's gotta be a reason for it....

“Your fiancee is coming tomorrow”

……………………………………………………………

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