Erzebet hadn’t been told about the Grand Duke’s ability, but she knew instinctively that this was a crisis. The hairs on her body stood on end as her senses sharpened. Even without seeing it, she could feel a malevolent power approaching from afar.

The skin on her face peeled back, revealing the distinctive purplish eyes of an undead. A third eye opened on her forehead. Her perception expanded, and time itself seemed to slow to a crawl.

’I have to protect my master.’

Spider silk shot from her sleeves, forming a barrier in front of Simon. At almost the same instant, the inn wall shattered with an explosive crack, and a jet-black line—the very personification of death—surged toward Simon.

Her eyes saw it with perfect clarity: death was closing in.

The spider silks spread out seamlessly, and the black arrow of death made contact. The once-loose silks instantly pulled taut. Though woven from several layers, the web failed to slow the approaching doom in the slightest.

One strand snapped. Then another. Then two more. At this rate, he would be killed.

’I must!’

All of her eyes flashed with power.

’I must protect him!’

Dark blue jet-black erupted from her entire body like an explosion. The energy spread out like a wave, flowing into the silk barrier. Its shape and color changed, swelling in volume. With a high-pitched screech, the strength of the spider silk increased dramatically. The remaining two strands momentarily slowed the arrow’s velocity.

[Haaaaaaaaa!]

She pulled back her arms. Newly spun silks wrapped around the tip of the deadly arrowhead like a net, simultaneously touching the ’target mark’ on Simon’s abdomen.

"Ugh!"

Almost at the same time, Simon grabbed the arrow with both arms. The inn floor beneath him instantly shattered, sending sharp wooden splinters flying up to slice a thin red line across his cheek.

"Kghhhhhh!"

Simon gritted his teeth, pouring strength into his legs. Thanks to Erzebet’s sturdy silk, he had avoided being pierced. He intended to hold on with sheer strength, but the arrow’s power was on a completely different level. His body was instantly thrown back, smashing through the inn wall and continuing backward. His legs, braced with jet-black, carved long, deep gouges into the ground.

"Master!"

Sensing the crisis, Erzebet violently swung her arms again. Countless spider silks shot out, wrapping around Simon’s shoulders, back, and legs. As she dug in her heels, the silks anchored themselves to the nearby houses. But the arrow’s momentum only decreased slightly; Simon was still being pushed back endlessly. Dozens of homes connected to the silks collapsed with a roar, their roofs torn off and their pillars ripped from the earth. Shocked screams echoed through the night as every building in the vicinity was demolished.

’Dammit!’

Snapping back to his senses, Simon shouted, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, "Pier!"

As soon as he opened the subspace, Pier shot out as if he had been waiting. He immediately transformed into Bone Armor, concentrating on Simon’s legs and back. Then, Simon and Pier pushed back with their combined force.

With a series of deafening crashes, Simon was blasted through building after building. The background kept changing as he was pushed back, alternating between interiors and the night outside.

"Everyone, get away!" Simon shouted.

The sudden catastrophe threw the area into chaos. His body was being pushed directly toward a night market, and he nearly collided with people several times. His legs dug deep into the ground. Simon gritted his teeth and looked back.

There, a toddler who looked to be about two or three years old was plopped on the ground, babbling and playing with snow and mud.

"Get away!" Simon screamed, but the baby was engrossed in its snowman. Its parents were nowhere in sight.

He squeezed his eyes shut and summoned every last ounce of strength, his jet-black flaring.

’Stop, stop, stop, stop!’

The Legion Commander’s will surged. Pier’s Bone Armor activated at full power, and Erzebet’s spider silks grew even tauter.

’Stooooooop!’

With a final, grinding screech, he came to a halt. At the same time, he heard something being crushed against his leg. The jet-black of the arrow was finally exhausted.

"Hah!"

Simon collapsed to the ground. "Hah! ’Phew!’ Hah! Hah!" Panting and sweating profusely, he looked back. The snowman the baby had been making was shattered, crushed by his foot.

The baby, who had been blinking up at Simon, began to well up with tears. Soon, it burst into a wail.

"...Ha, haha." Simon let out a weary laugh and gently hugged the crying child. "I’m sorry, were you scared? I’m so sorry for breaking your friend."

He apologized, stroking the baby’s back. In the distance, the parents came running, dropping their shopping baskets, tears and snot streaming down their faces.

Meanwhile, the standard-bearer who had guided the Grand Duke’s arrow to Simon collapsed to the ground, his face a mask of disbelief.

"Im... impossible."

The unthinkable had happened. The Grand Duke’s arrow, which could pierce a mountain-sized monster in a single blow—the ultimate symbol of the North’s destructive power—had been blocked. By a human, no less. His pants grew damp.

"How is that even possib—"

As he muttered blankly, a heeled shoe entered his line of sight. A sharp kick from Erzebet landed on his forehead, and his consciousness faded to black.

---

Overnight, a new legend was born in the North: ’The Boy Who Blocked the Grand Duke’s Arrow’. The people of Vilkenos revisited the long scar left on the ground where Simon had braced himself, as if on a pilgrimage.

"It’s a miracle! Isn’t this the first time the Grand Duke’s arrow has been blocked?"

"And by an outsider, no less!"

When a coachman tried to cross the mark, the northerners furiously shouted at him to turn back. Rumors circulated that the spirit of winter had helped, that the ancestors of the North were watching over him.

Meanwhile, the very person at the center of the legend was in bed, sniffling and teary-eyed, his stomach tightly wrapped in bandages.

"Legion Commander? Open wide..."

He spent the whole morning resting, eating the porridge that a grinning Erzebet spoon-fed him. It was past noon when he finally made his way to the Grand Duke’s castle.

"Hahaha! The entire North is buzzing with stories of the Young Master!" the butler, Godric, greeted him with a broad smile. His attitude had completely changed. He now addressed Simon with the highly respectful title of ’Young Master’.

Simon scratched the side of his head. "Is... getting hit by an arrow really that big of a deal?"

"Of course it is! No one has ever survived a direct hit from the Grand Duke’s arrow!"

"Oh my, are you okay? I heard the rumors." Grayson, the milkmaid who delivered to the castle every day, rushed over. She thrust a bottle of milk into Simon’s hands with a wide smile. "Did you break any bones? Here! They say reindeer milk is great for mending them."

"Th-Thank you."

Clutching the milk bottle, Simon awkwardly climbed the stairs to the Grand Duke’s office and knocked. "It’s Simon."

"Enter."

When he opened the door, he saw the Grand Duke in the middle of her training, once again in a shamefully revealing outfit. Today, she was holding her entire body weight on her fingertips in a handstand. The jet-black wrapped around her body suggested she had increased her weight as well.

Simon sat and waited for her to finish. Soon, she wiped her forehead with a towel and grinned. "The North was quiet, but it’s gotten noisy since you arrived. Everyone’s talking about you."

Simon gave an awkward smile. "It just keeps happening."

"I heard you were hit. Are you alright?"

"I felt like I was dying this morning, but it became bearable by the afternoon."

"I see." She glanced out the window, then gestured to Simon with her chin.

Simon got up and looked. His mouth fell open.

On a pike outside the castle, the severed head of the standard-bearer who had guided the arrow to him was displayed. Crows cawed as they landed and pecked out its eyes.

"Don’t tell me he was executed...!"

"Yes," the Grand Duke said calmly. "I had his head cut off. His subordinates will be reduced to slaves, worked to death, and then used as monster bait."

Simon himself was safe, and no one had died. He thought the punishment might be a bit harsh, but the Grand Duke was unyielding.

"We are at war. Discipline is paramount." She clenched her fist. "Dueling is a long-standing tradition here, and I let them fight as they please. But for the loser to disgracefully use my arrow for personal revenge?"

’Bang!’

She slammed her fist against the wall, and cracks spread as the entire castle shook. "He deserved to die a hundred times over."

When a standard-bearer plants a flag, the Grand Duke shoots. This was an absolute and solemn rule, and until now, no standard-bearer had ever used the flag for personal reasons. Of course, she had noticed the arrow was headed for the city and had adjusted its power, but she had fired because she trusted him. The betrayal of that trust left her unable to contain her anger. She had confined all other standard-bearers to their quarters.

Slumping into a chair, she crossed her legs, rested her chin on her hand, and let out a long breath. "There will be no time to worry about trivial matters. You will participate as well."

"In what?"

She pointed downward. "The North’s strategy meeting."

---

The Grand Duke’s castle had a large, well-appointed conference hall. She sat at the center of a massive round table, surrounded by men in various distinctive outfits. Simon watched from a short distance away.

’So these are the generals.’

The military system of the North was simple: warriors, standard-bearers, generals, and at the very top, the Grand Duke. There were ranks in between, like ’high-ranking warrior’ or ’Great General’, but these were the three main classifications. Everyone gathered here was of general rank or higher—individuals who could command entire armies.

’They’re strong.’

They were on a completely different level from the standard-bearer he had recently faced. They were all battle-hardened veterans who had opened their cores and survived countless battles; at a glance, they were kingdom-level powerhouses.

"What’s with this kid?" one general asked, gesturing with his chin.

Across from him, a red-bearded general smirked. "Seems to be the one who blocked the Grand Duke’s arrow."

"Interesting!"

He could feel a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Just then, Godric hurried over with another chair. One general scowled.

"Godric, are you really preparing a seat for that boy at a meeting that will decide the fate of the North? Just because he got grazed by an arrow..."

"Is the chatter over?"

At the Grand Duke’s cold voice, the generals fell silent, their expressions tense. She gestured toward Godric, who brought the chair over with a scrape.

Simon joined the meeting at the round table. But that wasn’t all.

’Ah.’

He was seated right next to the Grand Duke. The resentful and jealous gazes of several generals turned toward him. One even clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Grand Duke, who is that child?" asked Ganiro, the Great General, the second most powerful person in the North.

"Ah, this one?" The Grand Duke casually wrapped an arm around Simon’s neck and pulled him closer, as if for show. "Everyone, greet him with respect. This is my new disciple."

At the word ’disciple’, the generals’ mouths fell open. Grand Duke Jin Arscalt was famous for never maintaining personal relationships. But a disciple?

As Simon squirmed in embarrassment, the Grand Duke chuckled and patted his head. "This child will play an important role in our plan."