Chapter 95

Chapter 95
## Chapter 95

“Just as I thought, they’re shadowing us.”

A thin smile played on Lucian’s face as he noted Godfrey’s team keeping pace from the rear.

“I expected a move, but attempting a hit on day one? They’re more desperate than I gave them credit for.”

“What are your instructions? I can eliminate the threat this instant if you prefer.”

Felicia’s hand hovered over her hilt, her gaze sharp and predatory. She seemed prepared to spring forward and erase them the second he gave the signal.

“Not in this spot. Even if we finish them, we need to draw them further into the wilderness. It will make the cleanup much simpler.”

“Agreed. Reporting them as ‘lost in the mountains’ sounds much better than explaining a collection of perforated bodies,” Hugo remarked, nodding as he reached into his garment.

Seconds later, Hugo produced several shards of flint, distributing one to every member of the group.

“Take these. You’ve all been patient with the frost until now. Regarding their activation…”

“Hold it and channel mana, right? I’ve got the hang of it, no need for the lecture.”

Recalling his briefing with Glen, Lucian began to flow his energy. Intense crimson symbols flared on the stone’s surface, and it started to pulse gently. Immediately, the biting wind that had been gnawing at his skin retreated, replaced by a soothing heat radiating through his frame.

“Top-tier work. It’s exactly what you’d expect from a creation by one of Lord Blasker’s pupils.”

Lucian turned the warming stone—which appeared to be nothing more than common trail flint—over in his palm, looking pleased. Because of the clever camouflage, the magical tool had cleared the equipment check without raising a single red flag.

Basking in the warmth, Lucian cast a final glance back at Godfrey.

‘You likely never planned to play by the rules of the Hundred-Day Hunt, but neither did I.’

If his rivals were cheating so brazenly, why should he endure hardship just to maintain a facade of noble integrity? Unless it served a specific purpose for public relations or political standing, such “honor” was just vanity. Foul play deserved to be answered in kind.

“Is the footwear holding up for everyone?”

“Flawlessly, my lord. It feels like walking on a paved road; the drifts aren’t slowing me down at all.”

“Excellent. Let’s pick up the pace.”

With those words, Lucian’s squad began to navigate the frozen peaks with predatory grace. Despite the heavy powder that should have stalled them, they moved with unnatural lightness.

Lucian chuckled softly as he watched Godfrey’s silhouette shrink in the distance.

‘Let’s maintain this lead for the next five days.’

—

“…How the hell are they moving that fast?!”

Godfrey ground his teeth, his eyes mapping a network of broken veins. For three days, Lucian had led them on a grueling chase, vanishing into the white whenever they thought they had him cornered. Such velocity shouldn’t be possible.

“How can a city brat who’s never touched a snowbank navigate these cliffs so efficiently?!”

Survival in these climates required specialized expertise—mastery over the cold, techniques for walking on powder, and heat conservation tactics. For an outsider, these were lessons usually learned through agonizing failure.

Godfrey had gambled on Lucian’s group of foreigners floundering immediately.

‘Instead, they’re pulling away. We’ll drop dead from exhaustion before we touch them. Damn it all!’

“Young Master, is it wise to persist with this chase?”

A senior retainer spoke up with hesitation. Godfrey whirled on him, his eyes flashing at the perceived cowardice.

“Do you hear yourself? We came here for blood, and you’re suggesting we tuck tail?”

“You see it as clearly as I do, Young Master. This pace is physically impossible. They’ve come armed with more than just swords.”

“…”

Godfrey went quiet, acknowledging the veteran’s point. Only a fool would miss it now: Lucian’s party was utilizing some sort of advantage to outpace them.

Just as Godfrey had ignored the spirit of the Hundred-Day Hunt, Lucian had abandoned the rules of engagement.

“If it were just to win the competition, it wouldn’t matter, but if they have the same lethal intentions we do, then the worst-case scenario is…”

“Silence.”

Godfrey interrupted, his tone low and ominous.

“So what? You want me to surrender and just start hunting deer for points?”

“…”

“You moron. This is our final window to resolve this quietly. If he escapes us here, it means open conflict!”

For the Calix family, a total war was the ultimate nightmare. It would be different if Lucian were isolated, but he held the full backing of the Imperial Family. Furthermore, every house with a grievance against Calix and every mercenary seeking favor had rallied to his banner. Even a victory would bleed them dry of time and gold, leaving the family a shadow of its former self.

“Destroying the house just to play it safe is putting the cart before the horse. Sometimes you have to step into the fire. Stop the whining and find their trail!”

Under Godfrey’s harsh command, the men lowered their heads. Yet, regardless of their effort, they couldn’t close the gap. How could flesh and bone compete with an opponent using a blatant shortcut?

Two more days passed in a haze of fatigue, and just as the group neared their breaking point—

“Yo-Young Master! They’ve halted! The gap is vanishing!”

“…!”

Godfrey’s eyes snapped open at the cry. The targets, who had been a perpetual motion machine, had suddenly stopped?

“Move! We have to strike before they start moving again!”

“Yes, sir!”

The retainers sprinted forward. They were far too drained to consider that this sudden stillness might be an invitation to a slaughter.

—

“They certainly lack patience. Charging in with those bloodshot stares.”

Lucian commented, swallowing a final morsel of rabbit. It appeared they had been pushed so hard over the last five days that their survival instincts had been replaced by tunnel vision.

Raymond, finishing his own meal, spoke with a smirk.

“They likely still view themselves as the predators and us as the game. Or maybe they realize it’s too late to retreat even if they suspect a trap, so they’ve opted for a frontal assault.”

“Well, it simplifies things. I was getting bored of rabbit anyway.”

“Do you have a distaste for rabbit, my lord?”

“I don’t mind the taste, but five days straight is enough. It’s time for a change of pace, don’t you think?”

He hadn’t eaten it by choice. He chose it because rabbits were plentiful, easy to catch, and fast to cook. When you’re moving at high speeds to bait an enemy, rabbit is the only thing on the menu.

“Let’s aim for something larger today. A bear should be around here somewhere.”

“You arrogant brat! I finally have you in my sights!”

Godfrey’s shout cut through the air. Having closed within a few dozen yards, he glared at Lucian with eyes full of fury.

“What’s the secret? How did you stay ahead of us?”

“Dropping the formalities so easily. You have quite the tongue for someone addressing a Duke.”

“Duke? No one respects a title bought with Imperial favors. It seems you smuggled in everything you needed while lying about following Northern traditions. Have you no dignity?”

“…”

Lucian blinked, momentarily stunned by the sheer hypocrisy. To be lectured on dignity by a man who had come to commit a clandestine murder was surreal.

“He’s lost his mind. A literal assassin is questioning my ethics.”

“People without a moral compass tend to edit out their own sins,” Hugo noted.

“Likely inherited that trait from his father,” Felicia added.

As Lucian’s team took turns baiting him, Godfrey’s face flushed a deep crimson. But before his temper could peak, a low, ominous vibration hummed from the heavens.

*Rumble—*

“What’s that?”

Lucian looked skyward. A massive, ink-black cloud had manifested instantly, expanding at a terrifying rate.

“This is…!”

“Heh, it’s curtains for you.”

*CRACK—!*

A jagged violet light pulsed within the gloom—the warning sign of a lightning strike. Having been coached by Colin beforehand, Godfrey roared with laughter.

“Turn to ash! You Imperial lapdog!”

“Tsk!”

Clicking his tongue, Lucian whipped a slip of paper from his coat and shredded it. In that same heartbeat, the sky tore open, and a colossal pillar of lightning descended. The roar that followed was loud enough to shake the mountains.

*BOOM—!*

“…!”

Lucian’s party covered their ears and buckled. The world dissolved into a blinding white glare. As their vision slowly cleared, they looked toward the enemy.

“…What?”

Godfrey’s group, so loud a moment ago, was gone. In their place sat several scorched, smoking mounds of soot that vaguely resembled human shapes.

As the group stood in stunned silence, a figure approached from the shadows. Walking effortlessly over the drifts, the man lowered his hood and bowed low.

“An honor to meet you, Your Grace. I am Colin, an initiate of the Celestial School.”

“Apprehend him.”

The second the introduction ended, Lucian’s guards pinned Colin to the ground.

—

“Ugh, please, could you ease up on the bindings? I’m completely neutralized!”

“I doubt that. You might have another trick to call down lightning on our heads.”

“There are only a handful of mages capable of such a feat! It would be like a knight snapping steel chains with a flex.”

*He’s not saying it’s impossible.*

Lucian looked down at the mage, who was tied like a hog and complaining as if he were the victim. Truthfully, Lucian was puzzled. He had braced for Godfrey’s blades, but he hadn’t anticipated Godfrey’s own mage betraying him to switch sides at the last second.

‘And why come to me of all people?’

To the public, Lucian was the Emperor’s hand. Given how the crown viewed mages, no sane sorcerer should seek him out. Yet, this Colin hadn’t fled; he had walked right into the lion’s den.

“I don’t understand your play. Do you think you saved me? Did you expect a reward and protection for this ‘favor’?”

“Not at all. I saw your calm, Your Grace. You weren’t afraid because you were prepared. You would have survived without my interference.”

“You’re missing the point. I’m saying I would have been fine even if you had stayed on his side.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Lucian tossed something at the confused Colin. It was the confetti-like remains of the scroll he had torn. Colin stared at the scraps before his breath hitched.

“A defensive scroll?!”

“Exactly. A parting gift from Sir Glen.”

A cold shiver raced down Colin’s spine. The Protection School was one of the few sanctioned disciplines. They were the masters of neutralizing physical and magical threats. For that school to produce a one-time scroll instead of a stationary ward meant it packed an incredible amount of concentrated defensive power.

‘If I hadn’t flipped and had actually struck him as planned…’

He didn’t know the exact limit of the ward, but his instincts told him: it would have hurt, but they would have walked away. And once the dust settled, he would have been the one facing their wrath.

‘A savior if he catches you, a reaper if you miss.’

Colin felt a bead of cold sweat slide down his neck. He felt he was finally beginning to grasp the weight of the prophecy.