Reports have come in that snow has begun to fall in some of the mountain regions.

The timing is no different from previous years, but this winter, the observers predict heavy snowfall.

In regions plagued annually by accidents, preparations had started months ago.

Yet every year, the roads still close, and someone loses their life to the unforgiving snow.

This year, perhaps, will be no different.

As he pondered this, Duke Valther closed his eyes.

“There will be even more snow in the Enchanted Forest.”

That place is so inhospitable that even beasts struggle to survive.

The terrain is harsh and twisted, making it nearly impossible to retrace one’s steps. The forest is overrun with powerful creatures, where only the strongest survive.

No place for humans.

With the snow, finding food would become even harder.

“Twenty-five years… has it really been that long?”

It’s been twenty-five years since he sent soldiers in search of even the slightest trace, just to know if he was still alive.

Some of those missions ended in massacre; others found nothing. A few… brought something back.

Duke Valther clutched a ring he carried like a charm, Klaus’s ring.

The gem that had once adorned it was broken.

Running his finger over the empty setting, he was reminded that this wasn’t just a dream; it was his harsh reality.

Valther himself had shattered the beautiful stone from Klaus’s ring.

He knew there had to be a message from Klaus sealed within it.

And indeed, within was a single phrase from Klaus:

[Helga is my consort]

Just one line.

Nothing else. Just that one line.

This ring was a family heirloom, passed down through generations in the Duke’s house.

Those with violet eyes could leave a few words in it with just a few drops of their blood.

Not much—just enough for a few sentences, at least. A location, a direction, maybe even an explanation for his request.

But Klaus left only a single line.

It felt like he was mocking his father, leaving the meaning for him to decipher.

The boy had never really liked him.

The Duke had loved him, as much as a father could, but his duty as a Duke always came first.

Perhaps Klaus had only ever seen him as the Duke, not as a father.

Duke Valther tightened his grip on the ring.

“There’s nothing to think about.”

The meaning behind Klaus’s message was clear.

He didn’t want any child born of Helga and him to be left as an illegitimate child.

There was no other way to interpret it.

If Klaus had gone so far as to use the ring to make this request, then there must have been a child born with violet eyes.

He had held onto this belief for years, clinging to hope.

But Helga, it seemed, had not understood the meaning of this ring.

When an expedition entered the forest, she would track and reduce their numbers until they had no choice but to retreat.

She would always leave just enough survivors and disappear.

But on the day this ring was delivered, things were different.

Helga had slaughtered their soldiers as if consumed by fury.

Instead of merely thinning their ranks to drive them out, she rampaged like a beast determined to destroy everything in her path.

Like a wounded animal, she was brutal that day.

Only one soldier survived—the captain who brought back the ring.

Perhaps she had made sure he would survive just long enough to deliver the ring.

Watching with burning anger.

Maybe Helga thought that the ring was Klaus’s cry for help.

“And yet, the fact that she delivered his message…”

Helga would never ignore or mishandle Klaus’s words.

Klaus might even be alive and well, not suffering as Valther had feared.

Duke Valther had worried Klaus might be living like a slave. But maybe he was wrong.

The door opened quietly as the head steward entered.

Valther signaled with his eyes, and the steward approached.

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With a slight bow, he spoke softly.

“The informant’s report was accurate.”

“It’s really true?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The steward smiled, pleased. He knew how precious violet eyes were to the Duke’s family.

But that was all he knew.

He never asked why it was so important.

The secrecy surrounding it was something only the Duke and his successor understood.

“He has been located in the trade city of Endes. It appears he seldom uses his wind magic, but he did take down a dragon with a single blow. The initial report found nothing unusual, though I did order further investigation, as there is a minor issue of concern.”

“What issue?”

“A wandering dancer has been seen near him. Her behavior is somewhat suspicious.”

A chill ran through the Duke’s spine.

Could it be, already?

“Does she seem connected to the royal family?”

“…”

The steward paused, then replied.

“It doesn’t seem that way. There’s no evidence of her trying to hide her identity, and her actions don’t align with royal motives. It’s doubtful the royal family has caught on yet.”

“Any word of the violet eyes?”

“None at all. He is reportedly quite tall, so most wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. And even if they did, few would recognize the significance. The informant’s contact reports no indication of royal attention.”

The Duke exhaled heavily.

The royal family is even more desperate for the birth of a child with violet eyes.

While he had his heir, and now, perhaps, Klaus’s grandchild, the royals had only the king and a young princess.

The crown prince did not have violet eyes.

If they discovered a violet-eyed child had been born outside their control, there was no telling what they might do.

He must prevent them from approaching the child.

“Phew.”

The Duke let out a small sigh.

The ideal would be to bring the boy into the Duke’s house. But given the delicate alliances, this would take time.

Preparations were already underway, but it was a slow process.

Every house held onto its pride, slowing down progress.

Duke Valther squeezed Klaus’s ring and spoke.

“Do we know his name?”

“It’s Rafa… the boy’s name is Rafa.”

The steward’s eyes crinkled with a smile.

Watching him, a smile appeared on the Duke’s face as well.

“Rafa.”

It was the middle name of a legendary ancestor of their house.

That same name...

Klaus, though he could never wield power, had always admired the tale of the hero who had once summoned a storm to sink enemy ships.

There was a hope in his grandchild’s name that he, too, would grow up to be a hero.

The steward’s expression turned to one of concern.

“Your Grace, are you sure you don’t wish to assign a guard to the young lord?”

Duke Valther had placed only a few informants around Rafa.

If the royal family approached him, or if another house tried to trap him with some political scheme, they would report it or offer assistance.

A few had some combat training, but they weren’t there to protect Rafa.

Valther chuckled softly.

“Klaus sent him out. If Rafa weren’t prepared, he would not have let him go. Judging from your report, I think we have little to fear about his abilities.”

“Well… considering Lord Klaus’s temperament, you’re likely right.”

The steward’s smile was bittersweet.

Some roses bear thorns, but Klaus was no mere thorny rose; he was a thorn disguised as a beautiful flower.

“….”

Suddenly, Helga’s face came to mind.

Perhaps, just perhaps, she had killed or kidnapped Klaus’s lovers at his suggestion.

He would never truly know, but it was possible Klaus had encouraged it.

Many of those around Klaus had posed threats to his safety.

“What should we do with Manuel?”

The steward hesitated, then asked.

Manuel had tried to assassinate Rafa.

“Foolish boy.”

Duke Valther sighed heavily.

To Klaus, Manuel was simply another blood-related rival.

The fact that they shared a mother was meaningless to him.

“To me, though…”

He was still his son.

Even without violet eyes, that fact remained unchanged.

A child isn’t discarded simply because he isn’t significant.

“….”

As Duke, he never hesitated when making hard decisions.

Whether it was for Klaus, Manuel, or any of his other children, he had always chosen decisively.

But now was not the time.

Manuel could still be given another chance.

“Send him a warning. Quietly. Tell him that if he tries again, he will face the consequences.”

“Understood.”

The steward bowed and withdrew.

Duke Valther gripped the ring tightly.

He longed to meet Klaus’s son, the grandson who would carry on their family line.

“But not yet. It’s not time.”

The Duke’s house wasn’t ready to bring him in.

They would have to wait until negotiations with other families were resolved and they were fully prepared.

A careless move could turn all sides against them.

If the royal family were to catch wind of it, things could go very wrong.

Once the steward had left, Valther’s emotions surged, creating a light breeze in the room.

Watching the scattered papers, he smiled to himself.

How would Rafa, his grandson, wield the wind?

Their legendary ancestor had been a powerful wind mage, and Valther’s father, though he had violet eyes, could never use that power.

When the same fate befell Klaus, he had held onto hope.

If a child with violet eyes was born without power, might the next generation inherit great strength?

Yet, no matter how many women he paired with Klaus, no sign of pregnancy appeared.

And when one did, it sometimes turned out to be another man’s child.

He had grown anxious, wondering if Klaus was barren, and in his worry, he pushed more women toward him.

Later, he would learn that Klaus had been taking potions, ensuring he couldn’t father a child.

Having endured countless threats and kidnappings, Klaus had realized that bearing a child would be too dangerous.

Valther’s house was infiltrated by spies with royal ties, and Manuel constantly harbored thoughts of killing Klaus.

If a child with violet eyes were born, it might be stolen or killed in secrecy. The house was riddled with holes, and Klaus trusted no one.

Not even his guards.

“Yes, now I understand.”

Klaus had chosen to escape, to take refuge in the Enchanted Forest on his own terms.

Why hadn’t Klaus trusted him? He would have done anything to protect his son and grandson.

But Klaus hadn’t relied on his father; he had chosen to flee instead.

“Maybe… he thought I was his enemy too.”

Had he feared Valther would take his child with violet eyes away?

Or that he would push women toward him as he had, forcing him to sire children for the family’s benefit?

“…”

Klaus might have been right.

For the sake of the family, he might have done just that.

Valther sighed and shook his head.

There is no use in such thoughts now.

The time had come to focus on preparations to bring his grandson home.

“Perhaps Klaus himself will return.”

If Klaus thought Valther would exploit his grandson, he might come back to the family’s side.

“Yes… we don’t have much time.”

The resentments of Helga and other families must be settled quickly, before Klaus makes his move.

Or before Helga returns to this world.

A sense of urgency pressed down upon him.

----------------------------------------

After hearing of the witch’s curse, a few days passed, and I lay in bed as usual.

Normally, the witch would knock around this time.

But tonight, she was late.

“Maybe she’s not coming.”

I felt a small pang of curiosity.

Had something happened to her?

During the day, she danced as a performer, which sometimes attracted strange characters.

Perhaps I’d stop by in the morning to check on her.

As I was pondering this, the doorknob jiggled quietly.

Since the witch visited every night, I didn’t bother locking the door at this hour.

But she always knocked.

She never just came in unannounced.

I reached for the axe beside my bed.

“Someone daring to enter the Dragon Slayer’s room uninvited must be bold.”

Silently, I moved to stand beside the door.

In the flickering lamplight, the rusty hinges squeaked as the door opened.

An enemy? Or maybe just a thief?

I waited, curious to see who would enter when a head slowly peeked around the door.

Wait—

The grip on my axe slackened.

It was Muel.

“…”

He was holding a small knife, his hand trembling.

“You can do this, Muel. You’ve got this. Be brave.”

A small voice whispered from behind him.

The witch.

She stepped inside, catching sight of me and placing a finger over her lips with a pleased smile.

Don’t smile so brightly while cheering on someone who came to kill me.

I sighed softly, and she whispered excitedly.

“Muel finally found the courage! Opening the door himself—what progress.”

No, please, make progress somewhere else.

Think of me, the one waiting to be murdered here.

Encouraged by the witch, the trembling musician inched his way over to the bed.

Who knew what he was seeing?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t reality.

He raised his arms high over the bed.

But I was standing right behind him, not on the bed.