Raising the Northern Grand Duchy as a Max-Level All-Master

“Oh… hmm…?”

She blinked, her expression confused, but quickly composed herself.

“Chairman? Are you all right? What happened to the battle?”

Oh, I see. She’s sticking with the Mary persona.

“I’m fine. Thanks to you stepping in at the critical moment, I survived.”

“Is… is that so?”

“Indeed.”

I matched her tone, deciding to treat her as Mary for now.

“Your skills were incredible—almost at the level of a Sword Master.”

“I… I don’t really remember much…”

“Is that so? Well, it was still remarkable.”

My casual response seemed to put her at ease, but she cautiously examined her own body.

I noticed her stealing a glance at the necklace’s mana stone.

“??”

Her condition was better than expected, and the necklace appeared intact.

Seeing her tilt her head in confusion made me smile.

“Did… did you treat me?”

Arina, still wearing Mary’s face, inspected herself before turning to me with a tense expression.

“Your mana seemed completely drained, so I administered some mana potions.”

I shrugged as if it were no big deal.

“What about… my mana core?”

“It didn’t seem severe enough to check your core. Why, should I?”

“N-no, that’s fine! Never mind…”

Though she tried to act normal, her unease was evident.

I figured as much.

From behind my back, I discreetly activated a small mechanism.

Flash!

A faint light pulsed from her necklace before fading away.

Looks like you’ve been duping me all this time, haven’t you?

Her anxious expression melted into relief, confirming that she had taken the light as proof of the necklace’s intact functionality.

The Renslet lineage began with Rune Renslet, followed by Pilgrim, Thesis, Elysis, Isilis, Axis, Bjorn, Shiarang, Terrain, and finally Arina’s father, Baikal.

A dynasty spanning 200 years, the Renslets had always been entangled in savagery and war.

Not one of their Grand Dukes had ever died peacefully in bed from old age.

Rune Renslet, the founder, succumbed to poison while battling a white serpent.

His son Pilgrim perished in the Devil’s Den, killed by monsters just ten years into his reign.

From that time onward, every Grand Duke met an untimely death.

Amid all this, the Renslet family was known for its small number of descendants, as if cursed to remain scarce.

The curse that plagued the Renslet family had been cast by Isaac, using the heart of Jormungandr.

This malevolent curse influenced not only the Grand Dukes but also their spouses, who rarely lived long lives. Most Grand Duchesses suffered premature deaths, either from accidents or illness, and even their families were not spared its effects.

As a result, fewer and fewer noble families were willing to marry into the Renslet line. Over time, it became common for the Grand Duchesses to be orphans of noble blood—an unintended intersection of tragedy and necessity.

Given the hardships of the North—savage battles, rampant disease, and unrelenting cold—it was easier to find Grand Duchess candidates among those who had already endured such adversity.

However, the Renslet family refrained from forcing unions or fabricating tragic circumstances to secure suitable matches. This wasn’t out of morality or ethics but because of Isaac’s curse.

The curse was less severe if the Grand Duke and Duchess genuinely loved each other. Only unions born of pure affection offered any hope of producing offspring, even if only a single heir.

This was one of the subtle reasons why the Renslet advisors, knights, and even Arina herself hadn’t pressured Arad into accepting a royal marriage proposal.

Despite its tumultuous history, the Renslet line endured precariously through to the present, when it became the ruling house of the Northern Grand Duchy.

Typically, Grand Dukes ascended in their mid-teens and died on the battlefield or from sudden causes in their early to mid-thirties. Even this was possible only due to the protection provided by Isabelle and the Witch’s Council.

In that sense, Arina’s father, Baikal, lived relatively long, and Arina herself took up the mantle of Grand Duke later in life than most.

But one thing was undeniable:

Despite their short reigns and lives, the Grand Dukes and Duchesses of the North left behind achievements as brilliant as supernovae.

The Grand Dukes always led from the front, protecting the North during times of crisis.

The Grand Duchesses strengthened the North through governance and stability, often at the cost of their lives.

This legacy of sacrifice left the people of the North, the Renslets, with a deep sense of gratitude and debt toward their rulers.

The Renslet Church’s tradition of venerating the family’s ancestors as divine figures was born from these narratives of service and sacrifice.

Even now, the people of Renslet fought under this shared belief, risking everything.

“Fight on! Renslets, to arms!”

“Look! Her Highness stands with us!”

The Siege of the Great Northern Barrier approached its climax.

As Jormungandr and its army of monsters launched their fiercest assault yet, the Renslet soldiers, knights, and even civilian volunteers fought desperately on the wall to hold back the invasion.

The three northern paragons—Isabelle, Balzac, and Sun—focused their efforts on countering the white serpent, the most threatening foe.

“Aaaaah!”

“Renslet! Rune Renslet!”

From rank-and-file soldiers to high-ranking knights, from nameless volunteers to mages of the Arcane Guild, and from common worshipers to high priests of the Renslet Church—

Everyone gave their all from their respective positions.

“Ah! Her Highness!”

“Protect Her Highness!”

Soldiers who narrowly escaped death glanced at the shining spire where Arina’s illusion stood.

Even the priests, weary from tending to the wounded, would steal a glance at the radiant figure of the Grand Duchess, standing like a beacon of hope.

As long as that light remained, the Great Northern Barrier would hold.

This conviction was shared by everyone in the High Tower.

[Roooaaaaarrr!]

But the same truth held an ominous flipside.

If Arina’s illusion fell, it would deliver a catastrophic blow to the defenders’ morale.

[Sssswoooosh!]

Jormungandr, fully aware of this, saw the spire as a target that must be destroyed.

“Stop it! Stop that thing!”

“It’s going for Her Highness’s tower!”

After biding its time and probing for openings, Jormungandr seized the perfect moment.

Boom!

Rumble…

It unleashed its full power, focusing all its magic and attacks on the spire housing Arina’s illusion.

The tower crumbled.

“Noooooo!”

“Her Highness! Her Highness is gone!”

“This… this is a nightmare…”

At that moment, the defenders of the Great Northern Barrier saw the end of the siege coming into view.