Third Person’s POV

But he restrained everything.

On the outside, he merely lowered his eyes and forced an embarrassed smile onto his face as he played the role of a wounded and weak elder too meek to respond.

Inside, however, he laughed coldly and sinisterly, because while they judged him weak, pitiful, and harmless, they didn’t know that his true plan had already begun to move.

Even the mention of the word ’Chief Priest’ didn’t scare him, as he believed that his plan was flawless and he would never be exposed, no matter what happened.

He had already decided the perfect ending for this armored aura master within the depths of his own mind.

The humiliation he had just suffered, the blunt contempt in that man’s voice, and the way he had been spoken to before the princess and the others had all carved themselves sharply into his heart.

And though his outer appearance remained that of a meek, embarrassed elder, inwardly, he had already imagined in great detail how this arrogant guard would one day meet a miserable and dishonorable death.

The thought alone soothed much of the rage that had risen within him.

And so, rather than waste another glance upon the armored man, he ignored him entirely and slowly turned toward Arlene instead.

His expression changed with practiced smoothness into that of a frail old man who had narrowly escaped death and now required the kindness of others to remain standing.

Lowering his shoulders slightly and letting weakness show in his posture, he asked her in a tired and humble voice,

"Princess... would you help this poor old man a little?"

Moved by his pitiful condition, as well as by the harsh and almost excessive way the aura master had spoken to him moments earlier, Arlene felt her heart soften further.

In her eyes, this old man had guided them faithfully through dangerous lands, endured hardship without complaint, and had nearly died while accompanying her through this expedition.

Whatever his shortcomings might be, she felt that he deserved at least this much consideration from her.

Without hesitation, she stepped forward and personally reached out to support him.

Her delicate white hand wrapped around his thin arm while her other hand steadied his shoulder as she helped him rise from the frozen ground with care.

The moment her skin touched his arm, separated by his clothes, Arlene was startled by the deep coldness radiating from his body.

It was not merely the chill of the weather, but the lingering cold left by the rank four spell, a frost that still clung to his flesh, bones, and veins despite the aura master’s earlier aid in removing its influence.

Feeling that unnatural cold only increased her sympathy toward him.

Meanwhile, old Caspian felt the softness of the princess’s hand holding his arm and smelled the faint natural fragrance that radiated from her skin, and saw her youthful beauty from such close distance.

For a fleeting instant, a lustful and hungry glint flashed through his old eyes before he concealed it immediately beneath his lowered lids and trembling gratitude.

His action had been instantaneous, and he believed that no one had noticed his brief reaction.

But the armored aura master had been watching him too closely.

His eyes turned cold at once.

To be precise, he had not seen enough to openly accuse the old man of anything, yet he had clearly caught an expression that no elder should direct toward the princess he was sworn to protect.

It had been brief and subtle, but it had been vile enough to ignite anger and disgust within him.

Even so, he remained silent.

This old fox had already gathered enough sympathy through his trembling body, helpless tone, and cowardly grandson that if the armored master openly challenged or accused him now of anything, he would only appear like a cruel man pursuing some private grievance.

Worse still, it might drive Arlene to trust this slimy old creature even more deeply and incite distrust and impatience towards him,

Understanding that, he forced himself to say nothing and merely watched with growing vigilance.

Soon after, the group resumed moving forward through the deep snow once more, leaving behind the frozen battlefield of wolves and blood.

As they approached the outer edge of the area influenced by the rank four spell Ice Burial, old Caspian’s grandson, whose nerves were still shattered and whose attention wandered badly, suddenly stumbled and struck one of the frozen wolves with his leg.

The result startled everyone.

The wolf did not simply topple over.

Instead, the entire frozen beast shattered soundlessly into a burst of reddish white icy powder that scattered across the snow like frost mixed with blood ash.

Seeing that, a chill crept silently up everyone’s spine.

Only now did they fully comprehend the clean and terrifying carnage that the spell had caused.

Those hundreds of wolves had not merely been frozen in place.

They had been killed so completely that their bodies had become brittle sculptures waiting to collapse into dust at the slightest touch.

The young maid’s face turned pale, while Arlene’s eyes widened.

Even the cowardly grandson instinctively recoiled in fear.

But among all of them, the armored aura master paid little attention to that display.

Such things were not extraordinary to him, as he had seen stronger spells, bloodier battlefields, and colder methods of slaughter.

Instead, his thoughts remained fixed on something far more important.

Since the moment they had separated from the blue-haired woman, the Ice Emperor’s sister, he had been silently reviewing every event that had occurred afterward in careful order.

The sudden shortcut they had taken after running into that dead end in the middle of the forest, the strangely timed wolf ambush that came next, and the old man’s convenient desperation that resulted in the use of that spell scroll.

And finally, that foul glint in his eyes.

The more he arranged those details together in his mind, the more one conclusion began to harden within him.