Gwen carried the silver sword, her steps quick, leaving shallow marks one after another on the snowy ground.
Looking at the Northern Fortress ahead, which was no different from the one in her memories, her heart didn't stir much.
The knights, seeing the long-absent Gwen, stood solemnly in two lines and bowed deeply.
"Miss Gwen, welcome back."
All the knights respected Gwen, not only because she was the youngest daughter of the Delin family.
But even more because her inspiring journey of growing from a strong woman into a knight-commander made them admire her deeply.
Yet normally, Miss Gwen, who would return their salute, completely ignored them at this moment.
She simply passed by them lightly with an utterly icy aura.
This left countless knights completely confused.
'What happened to Miss Gwen?'
'Is she angry?'
No one knew.
The cold steel buildings around stood inside the castle, glinting with silver light.
The familiar wooden house was long gone, leaving only a pile of ruins and blackened marks buried under fine white snow.
All the way, Gwen walked through those familiar steel structures and stepped into a remote stone keep.
The blue castle gave off waves of cold air. The chill inside had always made the younger Gwen feel repelled.
But now, she walked toward the main doors with icy calm.
The family knights in front of the castle recognized Gwen.
They bowed to her from afar and opened the huge wooden doors that creaked loudly.
After so long, Gwen returned here again. Compared to her memories, this place now felt even more deserted.
Kefra wasn't here.
These days, she had been running around everywhere, trying to deal with the family's wanted order for Viktor.
But she wasn't a knight, and she lacked authority.
Kefra's words couldn't make the knights believe her.
Gwen walked into a room and looked toward a corner.
Her father, Angus, still had that same dazed appearance.
Kneeling in the room, his eyes were dull, staring blankly at the sky.
He had been like this for many days.
He didn't eat or drink.
If it weren't for Angus's extremely powerful physical constitution supporting him…
By now, he would have starved to death on the floor.
Jashu was also paralyzed in bed, with not a single part of his body that didn't hurt.
He stared blankly at the ceiling with his eyes open.
The burns all over his body couldn't be healed anytime soon.
Viktor's magical flames seemed to have a very special effect.
With magic, it was impossible to heal his injuries.
It was as if something at the root resisted the magical power of healing magic.
He could only rely on his own body to slowly repair itself.
Jashu, lying paralyzed in the room, heard someone come in.
"Who is it?"
He lifted his head with difficulty and saw a silver-haired woman in silver armor walking slowly toward him.
The other party was looking at him coldly.
Jashu's entire body was wrapped in white bandages. Only a pair of eyes and a mouth were exposed as he lay weakly on the bed.
A servant was feeding him. When Jashu saw Gwen come in, he pulled at that dry, broken, uneven voice of his, "You may go."
After being burned by that flame, the fact that he could still speak was already something to be thankful for.
When the servant quickly packed everything and left the room, only Gwen and Jashu remained.
Gwen stared coldly at Jashu, her voice icy, "The people of the North…"
"I ordered Father to do it. So what?"
Jashu looked at Gwen just as calmly, pulling at his ruined throat, his tone even.
Gwen couldn't sense any emotion in his voice.
No urgency, no anger, just excessively flat.
As if he were talking about something trivial and ordinary.
A flash of cold light, and the sword at Gwen's waist was suddenly laid across Jashu's neck.
"I can kill you at any time."
There wasn't a shred of emotion in her eyes.
When Kefra had held a dagger to Jashu's throat, Jashu knew Kefra would never kill him.
Because she couldn't.
Kefra valued the Delin family's kinship and familial bonds deeply.
But Gwen was different.
Even if the person in front of her was her half-brother, for the sake of upholding the justice in her heart, Gwen could strike without hesitation.
She knew how cruel the man before her was.
If one word could describe Jashu, then he was the "feral beast" who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals.
Someone who had already lost his humanity.
Jashu looked at her, not afraid at all.
"Gwen, I envy you."
"You're free. You can even fight for your own dreams, your own ideals."
"So, we are different."
Once you stand in a certain position, some things become beyond your control.
Jashu's eyes still carried a trace of a smile as he spoke slowly.
"From the moment I was born, my value was already set."
"To inherit the family, to protect the North."
"But have you ever thought about how vast the North is? Our encirclement cannot cover everyone…"
"So you ignored their cries for help and let the barbarians plunder the North, causing your fellow countrymen to lose their homes and families."
The cold sword pressed on Jashu's neck, Gwen's face reflecting on the blade, the edge flickering faintly.
The longer she lived in the North, the more Gwen saw, the more furious she became, and the more she sensed the endless sins of cold indifference committed by her brother and father.
Flowery words upon flowery words couldn't wash away the countless lives they carried on their backs.
"Hah…"
Jashu narrowed his eyes, lying limp on the bed.
"Then go on. Do it."
He spoke as though he wasn't surprised at all that Gwen might kill him.
As if he had already prepared himself to stretch out his neck and accept death.
But even after a long while, Gwen's sword still didn't fall.
Not because of family feelings.
Not because she wanted to give Jashu one more chance.
She simply flicked the sword coldly and sheathed it again.
Her icy voice rang out like chilling frost.
"You will receive the punishment you deserve, Jashu."
"But I'm not the one who should judge you."
Gwen's words stunned Jashu.
"…Why?"
Jashu stared blankly at Gwen. In the only pair of eyes visible from his bandaged face, confusion flickered.
Justice permitted no sand in its eyes. Before their father became like this, he had been the same.
Once evil appeared, justice would mercilessly destroy it.
If that justice existed in Gwen's heart, she would definitely have let the sword fall.
Thus, Jashu had long prepared himself for death.
But the Gwen before him was completely different from what he and Father had imagined.
She shouldn't have these emotions, these thoughts.
It seemed Gwen had changed somehow.
But this change wasn't the one he wanted.
At this moment, Gwen gave him a feeling.
Now, she seemed more like… a person?
Gwen's eyes were filled with ice. She glanced indifferently at Jashu and walked toward the door.
She didn't spare a single thought for her brother's dazed expression behind her.
She stepped out, standing at the entrance.
The slightly warm sunlight shone on her cold-steel armor, casting a faint glow.
Gwen took a deep breath, as if relieved.
Feeling the piercing clarity of the cold, she simply waited silently.
Finally, after who-knows-how-long, a voice rang loudly from outside the castle.
"Viktor is right outside the gate!"
Almost instantly, countless knights gathered and formed ranks.
The clashing of armor and the noise of metal scraping echoed loudly outside.
Gwen moved as well.
She tightened her grip on her sword and slowly walked toward the castle gate.
———
At this moment, Viktor, stepping on the white giant bird, hovered in the sky.
Violent winds swirled around him, blowing up waves of snow several meters high.
The knights lined up before the castle like a solid silver wall.
From above, Viktor looked down at them, his expression cold.
The countless knights wore extremely grim expressions, staring up at Viktor as if facing a great enemy.
Weapons in hand, their shock rippled throughout the crowd.
"What is going on? Why is Viktor in the sky?!"
"What is that giant bird?!"
Atop the silver wall, one knight pointed at Viktor, shouting with a trembling voice, "Viktor, y-you dare come back?!"
Viktor's terrifying power had long spread across the entire Northern Frontier.
But among these stubborn Northern knights, there were always some who feared nothing, not even death.
They still believed Viktor's crimes were unforgivable.
In the Northern Frontier, who didn't know what the Delin family represented?
They were the rulers of the desolate lands.
Hit the Delin family?
That was equivalent to hitting the face of every Northern knight.
But Viktor was now in the sky. Even if the knights wanted to seize him, they were basically powerless.
Soon, within the knights, a cluster of silver moved, someone was being escorted out through the castle gates.
Viktor narrowed his eyes and saw clearly who it was.
Gwen.
She looked as if she were covered in frost, lifting her head to look at Viktor with cold indifference.
When the knights saw Gwen appear, it was as if they suddenly had a pillar to lean on.
Their faces instantly brightened with faint hope, and their backs straightened.
"It's Miss Gwen!"
"With Miss Gwen here, we will definitely take down Viktor!"
The knights grew excited, their eyes even shimmering.
Finally, Gwen slowly drew her silver sword.
The knights followed, drawing their own blades.
Just when everyone thought Gwen was about to strike and subdue Viktor, Gwen turned around.
Facing the ranks of Northern knights directly.
Amid the wind and snow, her silver hair floated in the air, blocking Viktor from sight.
Holding her sword with one hand, Gwen's expression didn't change. Her face even carried a few degrees of icy coldness.
"In the name of Gwen Delin, I hereby abolish the wanted order for Viktor Clavenna."
"Anyone who objects, step forward."
Under the countless stunned gazes of the knights, Gwen planted her silver sword into the snow-covered ground before her.
Facing thousands of knights, she stood unwavering.
Like a holy, resolute goddess standing tall in a storm.
The howling wind swept snow violently past her, blurring her figure before the crowd's eyes.
That fleeting shimmer of silver-white left them in a daze.
At this moment, standing before them was the knight-lady who truly represented justice.
The one willing to speak for the weak and the wronged.
Injustice in this world, must be cut down with a sword.
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