The carriage continued its journey unhindered, eventually passing through the Schrantz County territory and entering the Duchy of Endran. However, the direction the carriage was heading was completely different from where the Endran Ducal House was located.
The carriage was heading toward the forest.
Just as they thought they’d be passing through dense woods, they suddenly found themselves facing a vast clearing.
“This is… still the forest, right? But so many trees have been cut down?”
Sera voiced her confusion as she looked out the window.
If this had been a logging site or a place with an active lumber mill, it might have made sense. But the sheer number of felled trees and the workers transporting them seemed excessive.
Moreover, they could frequently see workers even removing the leftover stumps.
Of course, Ian knew the reason.
‘It’s to prevent spies from approaching unnoticed.’
This was where the prince was staying.
The purpose was clearly to block any potential assassins or conspirators from getting close.
By clearing the surroundings, they could maintain visibility and detect any approaching threats from afar, allowing them to prepare accordingly.
‘And as an added bonus, the felled timber can be used for war.’
Whether as firewood, siege weapon materials, or other purposes—wood was a versatile resource.
“We’re almost there.”
At Herbert’s words, Ian glanced outside again.
At the end of the path the carriage was taking stood a hill, and atop that hill loomed a fortress.
‘Fort Barak.’
Ever since entering the forest, Ian had already known where they were headed.
During the civil war, the Third Prince had always stationed himself here.
And whether he liked it or not, this place was seared into Ian’s memory.
This was the fortress where Duke Endran would make his final stand in the imperial questline.
In fact—
‘If Schrantz has the “Plateau of Lamentations”…’
Fort Barak was known as the “Fortress of Tears.”
It was infamous for being a nightmare to siege.
When it was an ally’s stronghold, nothing was more reassuring. When it was the enemy’s, nothing was more frustrating.
The fortress was entirely self-sufficient, even equipped with its own reservoir, allowing it to hold out for years even if the wells ran dry.
‘How many soldiers did we throw at this damn place before finally taking it?’
Memories of desperately struggling to capture it came flooding back.
This fortress had brought countless players—including Ian—to tears.
“We have arrived at our destination.”
The carriage finally came to a stop.
Herbert stepped out first, bowing respectfully, and Ian’s group followed suit.
“Before meeting His Highness, I will briefly instruct you on etiquette and precautions. Attendants, please wait here. Young Master Ian, please follow me.”
Ian complied.
The so-called “education” wasn’t anything special.
It mostly consisted of learning formal imperial speech—phrases like “I am deeply humbled,” “I am unworthy,” and “I beg your forgiveness.”
The rest was no different from standard noble etiquette, so it wasn’t difficult.
Besides, Ian had met kings and emperors many times in the game, so he was already familiar with the customs of various nations.
The Fried Empire’s protocols were no exception.
Thanks to that, what should have taken an hour or two was wrapped up in less than thirty minutes, and he was then led to the room where he would stay during his time in the fortress.
“A formal uniform has been prepared in the wardrobe. Please change into it before meeting His Highness. I will return to escort you when summoned. Until then, please wait here.”
With those words, Herbert closed the door and left.
While Ian had been receiving his instructions, Nea must have unpacked their belongings.
‘I thought we’d meet right away, but I guess it’ll take a while.’
Ian wasn’t surprised.
Ragnar was a man of strict routine—waking, training, and sleeping at fixed times.
In a positive light, he was disciplined. In a negative one, he lived a painfully dull life.
They’d likely meet once his scheduled activities for the day were complete.
‘But…’
Ian’s gaze shifted to the wardrobe in the room.
‘Who’s there?’
A faint presence could be felt from inside.
Someone was hiding in there.
‘A spy keeping tabs on me?’
But he sensed no hostility—if anything, it seemed like whoever was inside was trying not to be noticed.
‘An assassin targeting the prince, then?’
Ian trudged toward the wardrobe.
It wasn’t impossible for someone skilled to infiltrate the fortress and hide here.
His hand reflexively went to his waist—only to grasp at empty air.
‘Right. I had to surrender my weapons.’
They’d been confiscated upon entering the fortress.
‘Well, I’ll just have to subdue them barehanded.’
Whoever they were, how could someone so incompetent sneak into this fortress?
Creeping closer, Ian suddenly yanked the wardrobe door open.
“Eek!”
His eyes met the intruder’s.
But the person hiding inside was the last one he expected.
It wasn’t an assassin—but a girl no older than ten, clutching a small dog in her arms.
“Woof! Woof!”
The dog, startled by Ian’s sudden appearance, began barking at him.
“Ah! Famille, didn’t I tell you to stay quiet while we’re hiding?!”
“Whine—!”
The dog, seemingly quite intelligent, immediately tucked its tail and fell silent at her scolding.
Regardless, Ian’s attention remained fixed on the girl.
He knew exactly who she was.
‘Why is the youngest imperial princess here…?’
Before him was Claire von Edelfried—the fifth child of the Fried Imperial Family, the youngest of three princes and two princesses.
Meta Pangaea had all sorts of rankings.
Most Likable NPCs, Hardest Quests, Most Scenic Locations—some were official, while others were fan-voted.
Among them was one titled “Most Tragic NPCs in Meta Pangaea.”
And Claire, the girl currently in front of Ian, had always ranked near the top.
Her fate varied drastically depending on who became emperor.
If the Second Prince took the throne, her life would plummet into misery.
The newly crowned emperor would marry her off as a concubine to the chieftain of the barbarian tribes stirring trouble in the east.
A princess of an empire, reduced to nothing more than a tribal leader’s plaything.
Players had speculated endlessly about why this happened.
The most popular theory?
It was the Second Prince’s revenge—for her abandoning him and siding with the Third Prince.
The reason was simple—the barbarian tribes weren’t strong enough to pose a real threat to the empire.
Of course, this was purely player speculation—only the game developers knew the real truth.
But it had become widely accepted as the most plausible explanation.
And now, Claire, who was destined for such a fate—
‘Why is she hiding in my wardrobe?’
—was crouched inside the closet of his assigned room.
As Ian stood frozen in shock, staring blankly, the girl sighed in relief after getting a good look at his face.
“Oh, it’s not Roseli.”
“You nearly gave me a heart attack, throwing the door open like that!”
Ian wanted to retort that he was the one who’d been startled, but he held his tongue.
After all, she was still an imperial princess—he couldn’t exactly argue with her.
Instead, he asked:
“Your Highness, who is Roseli?”
“Roseli is a witch! The scariest woman in the world! I bet she even has horns hidden under her hair!”
Just as Ian started wondering if this conversation was even coherent—
“Princess Claire!”
A frantic voice called from outside the room.
Claire’s eyes widened in panic.
“Eek! It’s the witch! Hide me! Don’t tell her I’m here!”
With that, she yanked the wardrobe door shut—from the inside.
Ian stared blankly at the closed wardrobe when—
“Your Highness, are you hiding in here aga—?!”
The door burst open, and a young maid rushed in.
She looked about fifteen or sixteen—hardly the “witch” Claire had described.
‘A bit young to be called a hag, no?’
Though to a child like Claire, even a one- or two-year age gap probably seemed vast.
“F-Forgive my intrusion!”
The maid’s hands trembled.
Barging into a noble’s quarters unannounced was beyond rude.
She was likely imagining all the consequences—being scolded by Ian, reprimanded by the head maid, maybe even losing her job.
But Ian had no intention of making a fuss.
“You seem to be searching urgently for Her Highness. Is something wrong?”
“N-No, nothing! I just… got the wrong room!”
“Is that so? Then you’d best hurry along.”
“Th-Thank you! And again, my deepest apologies!”
Realizing Ian was letting her off, the maid bowed deeply before scurrying out.
“…Is she gone?”
After a moment, Claire peeked out from the wardrobe.
“Yes, you can come out now, Your Highness.”
“Thank you! You saved my life! Roseli gets really scary when she’s mad.”
Claire finally emerged, giggling—then tilted her head curiously.
“Wait, you called me ‘Your Highness’ earlier. How did you know who I am?”
She hadn’t introduced herself, and they’d never met.
For a split second, Ian hesitated—but it wasn’t a problem.
“Rumors speak of a princess so lovely and noble that she could be none other than Your Highness. Seeing you in person, I knew at once.”
Claire’s mood instantly brightened at the flattery.
“That’s right! I am Princess Claire von Edelfried! And you’re… Eye-something? Eye-frost?”
“Do you mean ‘sharp-eyed’?”
“Yes, that! You’re very sharp-eyed!”
Puffing out her chest with pride, she looked like a tiny, triumphant penguin.
Ian couldn’t help but smile.
“……”
Suddenly, he noticed Claire staring intently at him.
“Is something wrong?”
“So who are you?”
Ian realized he hadn’t introduced himself.
“Ah, my apologies. Ian von Schrantz, eldest son of Count Schrantz.”
“Ian von Schrantz, Ian von Schrantz… Sorry, I don’t think I’ve heard of your family.”
That wasn’t surprising.
She might remember names of people around her, but why would she memorize every minor territory?
“We’re from the north—a small territory northwest of the Duchy of Endran, where you’re staying now.”
“Oh, I see! I understand now!”
Her expression suggested otherwise, but Ian didn’t mind.
“Well, I’ll remember your name! And I won’t forget this favour!”
‘Favour?’
Did hiding her really count as one?
“Papa says favours must be repaid twice over! I’m not some… some… ungrateful brat!”
Ian almost laughed.
‘No need to make it such a big deal.’
‘Well, it’s not like it matters.’
Once he returned to Schrantz, she’d probably forget his name in a few days anyway.
He decided not to dwell on it.
