Chosen by the Northern Grand Duke Chapter 7 : Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Dream (1)

The Otherworld.

A land that overca nature’s laws with magic.

A land that worshipped the Outer Gods, the holand of mages.

‘Every citizen of the Otherworld is a mage.’

Little was known about the Otherworld’s true nature, but that much was true.

‘Is it really a paradise?’

I let out a hollow laugh as I thought.

Inside my twenty-year-old self lurked a 5th Rank mage, but even I had never been to the Otherworld.

I could only guess it might be a paradise.

I wasn’t alone in that thought.

Every mage hiding on the continent shared the sa guess. For so, it was a dream.

Every year, many continental mages were caught trying to flee to the Otherworld.

Brokers existed for them, and groups operated asylum packages.

This tunnel was a path for asylum, closer to an ant’s nest.

There were quite a few such tunnels beneath Serzila.

A fact Grand Duke Aratus didn’t know, and one Elaine would learn only later.

I vividly rembered her hollow laugh, realizing the owner of my regular tavern was a broker.

“Not all tunnels were a problem.”

Elaine had said that back then.

It was sympathy. There were surely good mages on the continent.

Elaine pitied them.

She overlooked their asylum as long as it didn’t harm Serzila.

“We should’ve known there were tunnels tied to the Otherworld.”

So tunnels were like that.

So were dug by the Otherworld, others discovered by them. They used these tunnels to attack or settle in, plotting Serzila’s downfall.

The tunnel before us belonged to a broker but would be found by an Otherworld mage in a year.

That lone mage caused chaos in Serzila.

“They might know if it’s paradise or not. They’re brokers, after all.”

“Curious?”

“No one on the continent isn’t curious about the Otherworld. Except the Church.”

The Church only thought of exterminating mages, not wondering about the Otherworld.

“Aren’t Northerners the sa?”

“…Depends on the person. Serzila took you in, didn’t it?”

“That’s a point.”

I nodded.

“But they wouldn’t know. They’re not mages.”

“The owner of the Flower District’s underbelly was a mage.”

“A mage who didn’t flee to the Otherworld.”

Even with paradise in reach, the owner didn’t use the tunnel.

“One of two reasons. Obsessed with money or afraid of the border. Could be both.”

“This tunnel leads to the border, not the Otherworld?”

“If it led to the Otherworld, would Serzila be this quiet?”

I spoke as if guessing, but it was true.

In my previous life, I was forced to use this tunnel.

Not by Serzila’s orders, but by the knights’ whim.

Back then, I survived at the border, eating snow, and was rescued after a fortnight.

‘A waste of an Origin.’

When I was rescued, Grand Duke Aratus clicked his tongue.

He didn’t punish the knights who used recklessly.

The rescue was a favor, but back then, I couldn’t think that far.

I understood Aratus only later.

If I wanted the knights punished, I had to grow stronger and do it myself.

So, years later, I did.

I beat them to near death, and the knights laughed, welcoming it. That mory felt hollow.

“What should I do?”

Ellen’s voice suddenly broke my thoughts.

The brokers started moving.

“Looks like they’re closing up.”

Seems there were no asylum seekers today.

“They’ll get caught like this.”

“You good at fighting?”

“…Intelligence Bureau agents fight as well as knights.”

That was true.

But Elaine’s prowess far surpassed a re knight.

“Ever killed soone?”

“No, but I know how.”

Ellen answered without hesitation.

A trait I rembered from Elaine.

“You take them.”

“By myself?”

“My body’s still weak. Fighting Aura-wielding warriors is tough.”

I pointed at my body.

It wasn’t frail. Before I feared the sun, I’d trained this body.

‘The sun’s forcibly giving vitality too.’

Still, to Ellen’s high standards, it probably looked pathetic.

“I heard a mage’s physical ability rivals a warrior’s.”

“Maybe for Otherworld mages.”

Mages were warriors too.

Skilled mages had combat abilities rivaling knights.

“Not continental ones. Most are shoddy. Magic and body alike.”

That wasn’t entirely true for continental mages.

Standing out was suicidal. They were busy hiding.

“You’re good at magic. Why’s your body shoddy?”

“My parents told not to.”

“…”

“When I got excited or strained, flas burst out. They’re coming. Go kill them.”

Ellen stepped forward without complaint.

Her body stretched like taffy.

Physical enhancent from Aura, with a ferocious montum.

‘She’s really pissed.’

Understandable.

The brokers’ actions were like worms crawling in the flesh of her beloved Serzila.

Clang—!

Swords clashed, sparking. It was brief. Her innate divine strength broke the opponent’s sword.

‘Not a Swordmaster yet.’

Due to lack of effort.

“It’s not lack of effort—it’s not my ti yet.”

That’s what the Elaine of my previous life would’ve said.

She was right. Swordmaster wasn’t a realm reached by effort alone.

But that didn’t an Elaine wasn’t lazy.

Before becoming Grand Duke, Elaine was maddeningly lazy.

‘Still, reaching near 4th Rank at twenty is absurd.’

A 5th Rank mage was compared to a Swordmaster.

Elaine, at just twenty, was nearly there.

“What…!”

One broker took a fist to the face and collapsed.

The one whose sword broke convulsed, teeth scattering around his face.

“Who the hell are you?”

The other backed off, speaking.

He had so skill, narrowly dodging Ellen’s fist unlike his comrade.

“Taking long?”

“It’ll be quick.”

“No rush.”

“Don’t want to.”

The blade-like wind stopped abruptly.

A sudden gust pushed it away. Ellen’s sword, already swung, sliced the broker’s neck.

The wind following the sword sent the head flying to the tunnel’s entrance.

‘Simpler back then.’

She’d held back until I provoked her, then swung with full force.

On closer look, the head was crushed.

The wind from her swing did that.

‘Her ignorance is consistent.’

I realized anew how imnse Elaine’s innate divine strength was.

“Impressive.”

“My seniors… aren’t better, but any Intelligence Bureau agent can do this.”

No way. I held back a laugh.

Ellen couldn’t overuse lies either.

‘A relationship of mutual deception.’

Quite an amusing one.

Especially since I knew everything. How long it’d last, though, was anyone’s guess.

“What about this tunnel?”

I looked at Ellen.

She could handle it later as the Grand Heir, but she sought my advice.

‘Back then, I was a parasitic idiot.’

Feeling reality shift so soon, I grew greedy.

Could I stand side by side with her faster this ti?

“Make fall for you again this ti.”

Not because I recalled Elaine’s words from my previous life.

“And if possible, fall for too.”

…Absolutely not.

***

“If you want to seal it, find a mage with an earth-related Origin. Like iron.”

“Kidnap one?”

“You’re bold.”

I’d ant there was nothing we could do.

“The most rational option is calling the Church. Divine power works for everything.”

Vagueness was another word for magic.

But to , vagueness suited divine power more.

Unlike mages bound by Origins, divine power was near-omnipotent.

“…Could we use this to lure mages hiding in Serzila?”

A valid point.

If this were the only tunnel in Serzila.

“You think this is the only tunnel?”

“…What?”

“Five. Six, including the owner. Would there be just one tunnel?”

Ellen shook her head.

If so, more people would’ve been guarding it.

“The North’s probably the second most mage-filled place in the world.”

The first was the Otherworld, where every citizen was supposedly a mage.

“There are more tunnels. Whether the owner was alone, part of a group, one group, or many, I don’t know.”

So were individuals, so groups.

So tied to the Otherworld, so not.

Even I, returned, didn’t know every tunnel.

“Your job is to alert Serzila. Discreetly.”

Ellen frowned.

I was wary of leaks.

Or internal spies.

“Suspect everything. Like earlier. Hard? If it is, give up and live in ignorance.”

“…It’s easy.”

“Then we’re good.”

I smiled broadly.

“Sorry, but I’ll report this tunnel to His Grace. I need the credit.”

Ellen tilted her head.

“Why do you need to prove your worth? Just live as a hostage.”

“I’ll be Serzila’s vassal.”

A mage?

Ellen’s brow narrowed.

“I don’t like that.”

A different reaction from my previous life.

Back then, Elaine disliked less.

That was five years from now.

At twenty-five, Elaine was more mature, flexible. She wanted to beco a proper mage.

Twenty-year-old Ellen was far stiffer.

She seed to instinctively loathe mages.

“A grunt’s opinion doesn’t matter.”

“What?”

“People might think you’re the Grand Heir.”

“…”

“I’ll say it again, don’t report it. I’ll do it.”

***

Serzila’s smallest annex was isolated.

Only three tis a day, when a servant brought als, was I not alone.

The als were more tossed than served.

Coming after the Inner Fortress’s alti, the soup was cold—frozen on the way—and the bread harder than stone.

It wasn’t a problem for .

Touching the soup made it steam; the bread softened enough to tear.

“They probably didn’t think that far.”

Anyway.

Being alone was boring. Not lonely, but it made my thoughts wander. I imagined the North’s future. And the Grand Heir Elaine.

The latter lood larger.

I didn’t love the North much.

Protecting it alone was impossible.

‘In a continent that rejects mages, how great can a mage get?’

A hostage, at best a vassal.

To change the future, I needed Elaine.

Ideally, an Elaine who rembered my previous life.

‘Did she dream?’

A day had passed since we found the tunnel, and it was now evening.

But Elaine hadn’t co.

‘Was it really soone else?’

No way. I let out a hollow laugh.

To my eyes, Ellen was the sa Elaine I saw before returning.

‘She must’ve dread.’

If she didn’t after all that, the only provocation left was to beat her.

No, my fist would hurt, so I’d have to burn her.

‘Surely not that kind of provocation.’

The Elaine of my previous life might’ve gone for it, but the return wasn’t her power.

A Magical Item. The power of an artifact imbued with magic.

Magic was vague, but its vagueness was usually refined.

Ignorant Elaine wouldn’t know much about such artifacts.

So the artifact’s effect would follow the intent of the mage who created it.

“She dread.”

I was certain again.

I didn’t know what kind, but Elaine dread of my previous life.

What mattered was whether she’d take an interest in that dream.

Then it happened.

The door burst open.

“Hey, Harad!”

It was the refined Elaine.

Not Ellen, but Elaine.

“Harad!”

She called again.

Not idiot, but Harad.

‘She dread.’