Chapter 28.2

“How dare you—!”

Unable to contain his anger, a court noble reached for his sword.

“No, let it go.”

Canbraman stopped him with a gesture.

“…Hmph.”

For now, Canbraman refrained from pushing back.

For now, the Crown Prince, Canbraman, needed to placate the Northern delegation and, by extension, the North itself.

‘If I reject this now, the relationship between the Empire and the North will be irrevocably severed.’

The Empire, and especially the Imperial family, desperately wanted the North.

If circumstances allowed, they would bleed profusely to claim it.

But the Empire’s current situation was precarious.

Spilling that much blood would only weaken the already fragile Imperial authority, leaving it vulnerable to the many wolves, both within and beyond its borders, waiting to pounce.

“Her Highness, the Grand Duchess, wants to believe in the sincerity and innocence of the Imperial family,” Gard, the leader of the delegation, pressed further, delivering the final blow as Canbraman mulled over his decision.

“…The marriage proposal I previously suggested to the Grand Duchess—if she sends me an official letter indicating she’s seriously considering it, I might give this further thought.”

Breaking his silence, Canbraman offered a counterproposal, an unexpected one.

Snap.

“Your Highness, unlike before, the North now has Arad’s Salt.”

Gard, his temple veins bulging, met the Crown Prince’s proposition with equal force.

“I hear Imperial merchants have been humming tunes these days, selling Arad’s Salt at high prices, not just within the Empire but to neighboring kingdoms as well.”

Gard’s words carried a pointed warning: don’t threaten the North’s trade with the Empire, as you once did.

Just as the North needed the Empire’s food and fabric, the Empire now desperately craved the North’s Arad’s Salt.

“…”

“…”

The audience chamber fell silent, heavy with tension and a chilling sense of hostility.

‘These cursed Northern savages!’

‘They’ve become insufferable just because we indulged them a little too much!’

The Crown Prince and the Imperial knights glared at the Northern delegation with such ferocity it seemed as if they might draw their swords.

‘What? Stare all you like!’

‘See if we care!’

The Northerners, embodying their homeland’s unyielding spirit, returned their glares just as fiercely.

A Reluctant Agreement

After what felt like an eternity, Canbraman finally broke the silence.

“…Fine.”

“We are deeply grateful for your grace, Your Highness.”

The Crown Prince, his expression twisted with frustration, gave a begrudging nod.

Thus, the audience came to an end.

Although it was brief, the Northern delegation had successfully secured economic benefits and redefined their relationship with the Empire.

With a victorious air, the Renslet envoys left the chamber.

Unhappy with the outcome, the Empire didn’t even bother offering them a farewell banquet.

“Karaso! Astra!”

Instead, the Crown Prince’s voice thundered through the hall as he summoned the Empire’s Chancellor and the head of the intelligence agency.

“You called, Your Highness?”

The two figures, who had been waiting in the wings, immediately stepped forward.

“Damn that Arad’s Salt! Damn those Northern weeds! This has to be dealt with!”

Canbraman’s tone bordered on a roar as he vented his anger at the two officials.

“It may be a bit early, but… there is a way.”

“However, we’ll need the Tower’s power again—specifically, the Tower Master’s assistance.”

Karaso and Astra exchanged a meaningful glance before replying.

***

At Renslet Castle, also known as the High Tower, the audience hall known as the Hall of Glory was filled with a rare sense of spring.

That spring signified the arrival of my long-awaited ennoblement ceremony.

‘Has it already been half a year since I came to this world?’

I had arrived in November, and now it was April—a new year had begun.

As I walked into the hall, emotions swirled within me.

To my left and right, knights, officials, witches, and noblewomen stood in attendance.

Pvvveeeeum—

The deep, resonant note of a massive horn carved from the tusk of a glacial mammoth reverberated through the chamber, one of Renslet’s traditional instruments.

A crimson carpet stretched down the center of the hall, while white petals, resembling the cherry blossoms unique to the North, drifted down like snowflakes from the ceiling.

In this grand setting, I walked forward in accordance with tradition.

Step. Step. Step.

When my steps brought me to the predetermined spot, I stopped.

“Arad Jin, receive the Grand Duchess’s grace.”

The ceremony’s master of ceremonies—Administrative Officer Haita—announced in a solemn voice.

“Renslet! Rune Renslet!”

“Renslet! Rune Renslet!”

“Renslet! Rune Renslet!”

The rallying cry of the North echoed throughout the hall.

“Arad Jin, a descendant of the Jin family, whose roots lie in the Eastern Continent, is of noble blood. He has never forgotten his noble heritage or spirit as he wandered Arcadia and has now established his roots in Renslet.”

Haita’s solemn voice continued to echo in the hall, where silence reigned.

Arina, seated on her white throne, I, kneeling before her, and everyone else listened in silence.

“By creating Arad’s Salt, comparable to the spices of the East, he has brought immense joy to our land’s people, knights, witches, nobles, and rulers alike.”

Haita detailed my achievements in this new world, from my innovations to my exploits.

“…In recognition of these contributions, Her Highness the Grand Duchess of the High Tower confers upon Arad Jin the title of a Count, a rank fitting for his deeds.”

The initial plan to grant me a minor barony had skyrocketed to a hereditary countship.

“In honor of his unwavering connection to his roots, he will retain the family name of ‘Jin.’”

A countship was the highest rank the Grand Duchess could bestow without Imperial approval.

“The County of Jin will be based in Shinria, located five days west of the High Tower by horseback. From now on, the region will be officially named ‘Jin.’”

A hereditary title and a land of my own.

It was the ultimate reward for any human in this world.

Of course, for someone like me, who planned to eventually return to Earth, it was a reward of little practical value.

‘Shinria? That coastal area… I recall it being practically uninhabited.’

Shinria, now officially Jin County, was a barren land with little to offer. Surrounded by icy seas, it was home to only a few small fishing villages.

‘I suppose they gave me such meager territory to placate the other Northern nobles who might object to my sudden elevation.’

Given the recent instability caused by large-scale purges, the decision made sense as a political compromise.

‘But a coastal territory… if I play my cards right…?’

For me, however, the barren land represented an opportunity of a very different kind.