Chapter 3: Northern Sea Ice Palace

Rachel’s mood was particularly unpleasant this morning.

The reason? She had to test her youngest son, who had started to change.

Normally, she was a terrifying woman who could deceive others with a face as cold as ice, extracting information without mercy.

However, when it came to her son, her cold, icy walls gradually began to crumble.

Especially for her youngest son, who hadn’t been physically well, lacked proper education, rejected everything around him, and struggled with mental illness.

He finally seemed to be coming to his senses, unraveling magical formulas and avoiding any major issues.

How admirable.
She wished this could continue.
That maternal hope made her hesitate about today’s test.

‘…Ian hasn’t resolved his sexual urges at all.

Perhaps he’s been deeply scarred ever since that outrageous statement about the maid assault incident.’

If this situation continued, and for some reason, Ian awakened his magical powers, he might fall victim to a succubus or an incubus.

As much as she hated to entertain the thought, his skillful handling of magical formulas raised the possibility that a succubus might already have taken control of his mind.

It was a reasonable suspicion. Ian had always been impulsive and showed no signs of initiative, a disgrace to the Britina family and a target of his siblings’ contempt.

When someone changes overnight, it’s hard for anyone to dismiss the seeds of doubt.

But even so, this method made her feel a deep sense of disgust.

Her unique magic: illusions.
It allowed her to deceive and confuse others, making them experience various emotions.
The easiest way to gather information was by invoking feelings of love.

However, this wasn’t maternal love.
It was the illusion of romantic love between lovers.

Such an act might bring divine punishment.

A married woman with a husband, seducing her youngest son as a test?
It was a shameful act, no better than that of a common streetwalker.
Even a succubus might accuse her of hypocrisy.

Though she could’ve tasked her attendants with this job, Rachel felt it was a duty she had to handle personally.

‘There are too many sins weighing on that child.’

She wanted to atone for her own sins as well.
But now, it was too late to turn back.

– Crash!

“Are you alright…?”

Ian’s scent, the rare musk of a man, wafted around her, tickling her nose as he approached.

A decorative piece from the furniture fell, nearly striking Rachel’s head.

Fortunately, Ian extended both arms, shielding her from harm.

His arms were thinner than those of other knights.
White as snow, like the delicate petals of a flower, he resembled a young girl.

He was different.

This wasn’t the same young boy who had once hurled cruel words at her and sobbed bitterly.

He no longer seemed consumed by a sense of defeat.
He was tactful, capable of protecting others.

Though he wasn’t the spitting image of the lover she had once cherished,
he surpassed him in many ways.

But only for a moment.

Rachel shook her head and gently pushed Ian’s chest with her palm to create some distance.
Yet, in that fleeting moment, Ian immediately caught her.

The furniture that hadn’t completely fallen yet threatened to collapse on her.

The carriage jolted again, more violently than before.

Perhaps as a top-tier aura user, she could’ve avoided injury, but the reinforced enchantments on the objects made them dangerously heavy, with the potential to leave scars.

Taking it a step further, Ian embraced her tightly.

– The soft sound of flesh pressing against flesh filled the silent room.

In the pitch-dark space, Rachel’s voice broke through.

“…Ian.”

“Yes?”

Rachel instinctively met Ian’s gaze, but his eyes were calm, betraying no untoward emotion.

Relieved, Rachel steadied her trembling voice.

“…Your hand. Remove it.”

Her eyes drifted downward to the soft, marshmallow-like flesh in his grasp—
Her own breast, warm and plush like freshly steamed dumplings.

“I-I apologize!”

“There’s no need to apologize. You were merely trying to save me… Now, I will deal with the attackers outside.”

With her face seemingly flushed, Rachel stepped out of the carriage, slamming the door behind her.

[Rachel’s affection has increased to 63!]

Ian stared blankly at the holographic display floating before him.
“…Am I really an M? Or… no, wait. What kind of deranged author writes about a son accidentally grabbing his mother’s breast and gaining affection points for it?!”

He glanced toward the outside commotion, piecing together the situation.

The carriage had been struck by a C-rank magical beast often found in snowy regions—a Rahirino, a rhinoceros-like creature.

Normally, such beasts roamed the forests. However, those bred by humans developed a resistance to cold, making them prime mounts for bandits.

“…No protective artifacts on a Britina carriage, of all things,” Ian muttered under his breath, his irritation rising.

Meanwhile, the bandits atop their Rahirinos circled the battered carriage.

“Brother, isn’t this the same Britina family that lost a maid who escaped because of some incurable illness?”

“So what?”

One of the bandits smirked, scratching his nose with his index and middle fingers before continuing,
“You know… those noble maids are of a different class altogether. While we’re here, maybe they could, you know, provide us with some ‘services.’ ”

“Services?”

The man made an obscene gesture, curling his index finger through an ‘O’ made by his thumb and forefinger repeatedly.

“Ha, fine. I’ll take the virgin, and the rest of you can have your turn after we strip this old carriage for valuables.”

With that, the bandit lashed his whip, signaling his Rahirino to ram the carriage again—

But then—

A freezing gale erupted, howling through the air.

The bandits instinctively raised their arms to shield themselves. The biting cold sapped their strength, frost forming on their skin and weapons.

It was over in seconds. The bandits’ limbs froze mid-motion, and their Rahirinos collapsed into lifeless statues of ice.

Rachel emerged from the storm’s eye, her hair white as snow, stretching casually as though she had merely awoken from a nap.

The Northern Ice Empress, a figure of chilling renown.

“Interesting. Still alive, are we?” Rachel murmured, her sharp gaze falling on the leader, who trembled but remained conscious.

“Ian, come here.”

“Yes, Mother.”

The bandit leader’s confidence shattered. The young noble he had dismissed as weak now approached with unnerving composure, his gaze cool and detached as he surveyed the frozen battlefield.

“Amazing combat skills, Mother.”

Rachel smirked. “Thank you. Now tell me, Ian—can you kill a human?”

“Of course, I can.”

That day, the bandits who dared to attack the Britina estate disappeared without a trace.

Rumors began to circulate in the slums—whispers of an aristocratic executioner whose victims turned into frozen sculptures.

Ian’s Reflection

Returning to the carriage, Ian found himself grappling with his thoughts.

Had this been his former life, the sight of a human body shattering into crystalline fragments would have left him paralyzed with horror.

To see a frozen corpse crack apart like brittle glass, its ruby-like shards scattered on the ground, while the faint squelch of flesh remained underfoot…

It should have been nauseating.

And yet—

‘Why am I so calm?’

Not once during the chaos had his heart wavered. Even now, his mind was eerily serene.

His mother praised him for his composure, even promising to assign him a battle-hardened maid to mentor him.

But as they set off toward the slave market to procure a replacement carriage, Ian could not shake the growing unease within him.

He wondered—what had become of his humanity?