Chapter 4
Realizing she could not overturn the situation by force alone, Freya’s great-grandmother requested a private audience with the Emperor.
“Your Majesty, you ordered me to take responsibility for this incident and end my own life. I will obey that command. However, please spare the remaining mages. The reason I make this request is for the sake of future contingencies.”
“What contingencies do you speak of?”
“War. There are countries abroad where members of the royal family are mages. No matter how firmly nations agree to abolish mages, it is difficult to enforce such agreements when family is involved.”
“……”
“Right now, everyone is too overwhelmed to concern themselves with war. But once power stabilizes, as it always has, those who covet our empire will emerge. And as you well know, it is difficult to win a war without mages.”
The Emperor fell silent for a long moment, as though in deep thought, before speaking.
“Listening to you, I cannot say your words are entirely wrong. Very well. I will accept the Grand Mage’s petition and leave the remaining mages alive. However, they will be kept under surveillance for life and must always wear black mithril that suppresses their mana.”
Being watched was one thing, but being forced to wear black mithril like prisoners in shackles was nothing short of humiliation. Still, as long as one lived, there was always a chance for recovery. Freya’s great-grandmother bowed with what looked like gratitude.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“I accept your thanks. I also intend to spare your family. I understand the Grand Mage has a daughter.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Do not worry about her. I will arrange for her to marry the heir of a prestigious house so she may live in comfort all her life.”
“T-Thank you…”
“Wait. Does your daughter also possess mana?”
“Yes. However, she has a congenital heart defect and cannot use it. So even if she has mana, she is no different from an ordinary person. In some respects, even less capable than one.”
“That is fortunate—for her. Otherwise, I might have changed my mind.”
Three days later, Freya’s great-grandmother stood in a square filled with a crowd gathered like clouds and delivered words of apology and mourning to the empire’s victims of the incident before drinking poison and taking her own life.
It was, truly, a tragic death. Unforeseen events always occurred, and she had done everything within her power. Although she failed to kill Lucian, it was undeniable that she had contained the situation. Yet instead of receiving recognition for her efforts, she had to end her life under the weight of public condemnation.
She had always known the world did not move by the measure of fairness. Still, thinking of her great-grandmother left a bitter taste in Freya’s mouth, like swallowing a harsh medicinal brew.
In any case, Freya strictly followed her grandmother’s instruction to never speak of her ability. Now that all three elders were no longer in this world, no one knew of her power.
“Enough, Dwayne. I am sure the young lady did not pack all that luggage without understanding what she was doing. She likely has her reasons for bringing it despite the weight.”
Only after Owen stepped in did Dwayne finally fall silent.
After changing into riding clothes more suitable for mountain travel among her garments, Freya headed toward the mountain. Once she entered the forested path, she instinctively used one of her self-defense tools—a dagger—to fashion a wooden spear. It was inferior to iron weapons, but it would serve well against wild beasts that might not be affected by her talent.
Using the makeshift spear as a walking staff, Freya continued deeper into the mountain. Dwayne had not been wrong. Once she passed the entrance, the forest grew so dense with shrubs and tall trees that visibility dropped sharply. Still, although narrow, the path alongside the roaring stream made it impossible to get lost.
After about an hour, the weather turned sharply colder, and soon snow began to fall. It seemed the sudden drop in temperature had turned what would have been rain into snow.
Freya pressed on without stopping. If the snow accumulated, the path would become slippery and dangerous, and she might even step on poisonous insects hidden beneath the white cover.
Seeing the ravine narrow ahead, she realized she must be close to the place Dwayne had described. There was supposed to be a signpost marking the direction.
Her steps quickened with anticipation. The slope grew steeper, but she hardly felt the strain as she drew nearer to her destination.
“There it is.”
About ten meters ahead stood a large rock, and beside it, a wooden signpost. Freya almost ran toward it.
Reaching the spot, she took a moment to rest, sitting briefly on the rock and surveying her surroundings. Tall trees blocked the sky, birds fluttered through the air, and small animals moved through the undergrowth—no different from the rest of the mountain she had passed.
No, there was one difference.
About fifty meters uphill stood a cabin. Built firmly from logs, it looked like a temporary shelter used by hunters or herbalists during sudden storms or emergencies.
“I’ve rested enough. I should get going.”
She picked up her bag again and stood up.
That was when it happened.
A faint groan drifted from above.
“A cat? No… that was definitely a human voice. Surely I misheard—there can’t be anyone in a place like this.”
Just as she was about to take another step, a strong gust of wind brushed past her face, carrying the scent of blood.
“Blood… after a groan? So there really is someone?”
Her gaze instinctively turned upward toward the source of the sound. Straining her vision, she finally spotted a man lying amid dense shrubs.
He was face down, with two arrows embedded in his shoulder and one in his thigh. His side—clearly the source of the blood—was soaked in red.
Freya hesitated.
The man was likely being pursued. The fact that he had not yet been torn apart by wild beasts despite the strong scent of blood meant the injury was recent. Which also meant his pursuers might still be nearby.
That thought ended her hesitation.
He was a stranger. She had no reason to risk herself for him. Besides, she was in a hurry.
Freya turned away.
But then—
Another painful groan escaped the man’s lips. It sounded like a desperate plea not to be abandoned.
Freya! Isn’t it your life philosophy to avoid getting involved unless someone explicitly asks for help, so you can live a safe life? And wasn’t your “doctoring” limited to Harrington territory anyway? What are you suddenly doing? Just ignore him. Besides, he might even be a criminal who deserves to die.
The voice in her mind urged her to leave.
But another groan followed.
And it won.
Freya approached the man.
He was still alive—his body faintly rising and falling. But barely. He was already standing on the edge of death.
She crouched beside him and shook his shoulder.
“Hey. Wake up.”
No response.
“Hey. I said wake up.”
Still nothing.
Her mind urged her again to leave him.
But this time, it was not the groans that stopped her—it was his knight’s uniform and the long sword lying beside him.
The wind grew harsher, and the snow thicker. The man’s breathing weakened further, likely from hypothermia. His body had turned ice-cold.
With an irritated sigh, Freya placed her hand on his back and began to pour mana into him.
Mana was a form of biological energy that stimulated weakened bodily functions and stabilized sluggish energy flow. It could not heal flesh like divine power, but it could restore fatigue and minor internal injuries.
This healing method—known as healing magic—had been created by her great-grandmother, the Grand Mage, for her daughter who could not use mana due to a congenital heart condition, and also as a response to the priests who could not use divine power because they were of non-human races.
The technique had been passed down through her grandmother to Freya, who was born with mana herself. Combined with her past life experience as a surgeon and her knowledge of traditional medicine, the technique had evolved into something uniquely effective—so much so that she had never once failed to treat a patient.
