The northern reaches of the Empire were a land where time lay frozen beneath the relentless grip of winter.
Without the protection of thick furs, the very air threatened to steal one’s breath away. Even washing clothes became a risk—if left unchecked, they might shatter from the sheer cold. Firewood was not just a resource but a matter of survival, and every scrap of meat was precious.
Why had nature dealt such a cruel hand to the North? Against this unforgiving environment, its people endured, surviving one day at a time.
That was why they were strong.
And that was why they were barren—hardened, even in their hearts.
Young Elvillion had witnessed his father’s moment of weakness. During the reign of the previous Grand Duke of the North, burdened by exhaustion, he had muttered bleakly.
“⋯⋯Did they refuse the summons again?”
“Yes. They have the audacity to demand that if we have business with them, we should go to them instead. How dare they forget the grace of the Grand Duke’s family⋯⋯!”
“It is my own fault. I should never have granted so much power to the provinces. Of course, wolves with meat in their jaws would only grow hungrier. Greed is in everyone’s nature⋯⋯.”
The former Grand Duke of the North had been a kind and gentle man. Had he been born in lands where spring arrived, he would have ruled with benevolence, a lord of wisdom and grace. But the North did not suit men like him.He was weak. An idealist.
He believed it was unvirtuous for the Grand Duke’s family to hoard all authority within their grasp.
After all, while those under the Grand Duke’s direct rule lived in comfort, burning firewood freely, people in the distant territories were still freezing to death.
He thought that if power were shared, if the Grand Duke’s dominion was spread across the North, it would benefit the entire North. It was not a misguided notion. It was simply impossible
Placing trust in his loyal vassals, the previous Grand Duke of the North granted them authority and sent them to the provinces. But the result was ruinous—the North splintered.
Those once loyal, who had stood unwavering when the Grand Duke reigned supreme, now saw weakness as an opportunity. With the head’s power weakening, they thought themselves rulers. Greed swiftly eclipsed loyalty.
In time, the Grand Duke fell into despair and withered under the weight of his regret.
“⋯⋯You, show no mercy. Do not throw meat to the wolves. Do not place your trust in others. I still curse the moment I did⋯⋯.”
These were the last words he left to his eldest son, Elvillion Julius, before he died.
“Yes, Father.”
Elvillion carved those words into his soul.
And the first thing he did upon ascending as the new Grand Duke of the North—
Was to hang the sinner who had fractured the North and led it to ruin in the central plaza. The previous Grand Duke. His own father.
===============================================================
They say there was once a golden age—a time when all the people of winter stood united beneath the banner of Julius, when their strength, honed by survival, was wielded as one.
The Grand Duke’s house of that era deserved to be called a giant.
But now? The fractured North was a disgrace. The Grand Duke’s title had long since become an empty husk. Should the Imperial Family catch wind of its state, they might even strip him of his rank altogether.
Division. That cursed division that had forced him to string up his father’s lifeless body.
As Elvillion Julius watched the corpse of the father he had once admired—pelted by the stones of an enraged crowd—he swore an oath that day.
If possessing the heart of spring was a flaw in these frozen lands, then I shall become the coldest winter this North has ever seen.
And so he did.
He slaughtered or banished his own blood, leaving no room for future division. To prevent the seeds of rebellion, he culled them all before they could take root.
If doubt arose, he cut until there was nothing left to question. Those who dared to resist were stripped bare and thrown into the snow. They did not speak again after that.
And thus, he gathered all power into his grasp.
He married strategically, seeking even the slightest increase in power. Affection for his children was nonexistent. If he were to favor one, it would have to be the most exceptional—the strongest heir.
Reckless favoritism would only sow discord.
His family was not exempt from his ruthless standards. Children born from wives outside the North had their succession rights stripped by any means necessary. Sending his eldest daughter to a monastery had been part of that.
And through all these calculated, ice-cold efforts, he achieved results. The Grand Duke’s family, though not as prosperous as before, regained its strength. The North’s blade, once dulled by division, was sharpened anew.
Now, only war remained—a final war with the factions that had broken away.
For that, the Grand Duke of the North needed power. That was why he joined the Hero Selection Tournament. War devoured resources—strength, provisions, everything. And so, anything that could be gathered beforehand had to be seized.
A life of solitude and unrelenting cruelty.
Yet, even in Elvillion Julius’s existence, there had been one touch of spring.
It was before he fully revealed his fangs. To appear unthreatening, to lull his potential enemies into underestimating him, he purchased a woman.
He had heard of an intriguing courtesan—one who sold only conversation. Thinking it would make him look foolish to spend money on such nonsense, he chose her. How laughable was it to pay and yet not be able to sleep with her.
That was how he met her.
At times, a philosopher. A poet. A critic. A good friend. A captivating lover. A nurturing mother.
“People cannot become winter or steel, ‘Daisy.’ No matter how much we try to resemble them, we must not forget—at our core, we are flesh and blood. But that’s just the exterior.”
“⋯⋯So what are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying⋯⋯ ‘Daisy’ needs to talk to people. Humans are social creatures, after all!”
Heart, the woman of fantasy.
===============================================================
Though he now wore a different mask, it was still good to see an old friend after so long. Perhaps it was the weight of hardship, but he seemed more aged than expected.
Has that much time already passed?
I had retired from Heart in the 448th year of the Lion Calendar⋯⋯ that made it about five years. Even after all this time, his face was unmistakably that of the Grand Duke of the North.
Like gym bros gauging each other’s strength upon meeting, I instinctively checked his condition, massaging ‘Daisy’s’ arm. A well-maintained physique—but there was room for improvement.
“You look a bit lean for your build. Are you eating properly?”
“Plenty of vegetables, moderate amounts of meat. That is how I eat.”
“I don’t know who taught you, but they did well! Stick to that. Though, you could increase the amount a little. Try eating just a bit more.”
“I will do so. Heart.”
It’s not Heart, I keep telling you.
As ‘Daisy’ added that remark, Irid, who had been standing nearby with his arms crossed, muttered under his breath.
“⋯⋯Is she not.”
No, man, not Centra. Not even Centra’s ancestor. This avatar’s codename is Love.
A safety measure—one I had put in place to prevent chaos if names were carelessly reused. And look at that. My foresight had paid off. Even with Irid’s intrusion my defenses held strong!
“Do you have any hobbies?”
“Not particularly. My only hobby disappeared fiveyears ago.”
“Didn’t the person who gave you diet advice not tell you this? People need enjoyment to make life worth living. If you have time, want to go see some bard performances with me?”
“If you’re inviting me, I’d be glad to. I can always make time for you.”
When I suggested we check out some street performances, Daisy nodded coolly. Right. Since we had reunited after so long, we could take a moment to unwind. Maybe we would share some drinks in the evening, then go our separate ways.
I couldn’t know if this guy wasn’t married.
But knowing he had a wife, daughters, and sons put me at ease. Besides, there was nothing in his eyes when I scanned them—not even a flicker of romantic interest.
“⋯⋯Then I shall pay the ticket fee. And the dessert as well.”
“Why would you—no, wait⋯⋯ Second Prince. Please, get a grip. The Empire’s pillar must not lose his wits.”
“To refuse my generosity… could it be that the Duke is not your first choice for a partner⋯⋯.”
“Someone, please call a Priest. Quickly.”
Meanwhile, Irid was lost in thought, looking like a time traveler caught in a paradox. He was trying to determine whether Centra had come from a world line where the Grand Duke of the North and ‘Love’ were connected or not.
If they were, then all he had to do was push the couple together.
But if ‘Love’ was meant to be with someone else, then by forcing the connection, Irid would be erasing Centra with his own hands. And so, the Second Prince found himself suffering in that gap of paradox.
The reason this formerly clever guy now seemed to have suffered a dramatic drop in intelligence was likely because he was using most of his brainpower thinking about the paradox.
Honestly, if I thought that one wrong move would erase the heroine from existence, I’d probably panic and hesitate too.
Then…
What if I used this chance to drag Irid back to reality⋯⋯?
The plan was simple⋯⋯I would cement the idea that they would never meet again, while subtly dropping concepts about the multiverse, and explain that Centra’s world line had already branched off into a past too distant to alter.
Make him understand that no matter what Irid did now, Centra cannot exist in this world⋯⋯ something like that.
It was cruel, but wasn’t it even crueler to let him drown in false hope? Because in the end, Centra was nothing more than an illusion.
If a love could never be realized, it was better to sever it cleanly. If Irid ended up incapable of marrying or building a family because of this, I might actually feel guilty.
Alright.
And if I was going to sprinkle in a bit of multiverse theory anyway⋯⋯ why not make ‘Love’ a visitor from another world too? But then, why did they come to this world?
The reason would be the aftermath of some crazy dimensional wizard who cast a Dimension-Overlap Spell.
I had summoned Karen from a parallel world to give Cicel a chance, and Love had been dragged along as an unintended consequence. If I structured the story like that…
I could cleanly remove Karen from this world, help Irid break free from his delusions, prevent ‘Daisy’ from searching for Love, and—
It would also explain how the Grand Duke of the North and I met.
If I played my cards right, it just might work.
“You know, but──”
Was there always a dessert café here? In my memory, this was supposed to be a pub.
Just as I was about to say that, I saw the figure of Mysterious Beautiful Girl X perched on a rooftop, frantically making an X sign with both hands.
Yuna?
Yuna continued gesturing wildly. Pure love, destruction, no. Wait, where in the world was “pure love destruction” coming from? I was trying to rescue these poor souls addicted to V-Tubers all at once.
When I failed to understand her intentions, Yuna connected a hotline to my mind. I expected an explanation. Instead, the connection point was… different.
The hotline was linked directly to the Academy’s simulation device. And the voice I heard was not Yuna’s.
-H-Hello, Creator⋯⋯.
It was Centra’s voice pack.
“What the fuck.”
There were limits to how much shock I could endure. I jumped from my seat, my chair crashing to the ground.
The sheer absurdity of the situation shattered my concept, the two men with me also sprang to their feet.
“⋯⋯Heart? Why are you suddenly cursing? Did I offend you somehow?”
“Was it true, then? That the Grand Duke of the North wasn’t really your first?”
“Ah, n-no, no! I⋯⋯ just need to use the restroom! For real this time, don’t follow me! And it’s Love, not Heart!”
“Wait! Please, wait! Love!”
Leaving behind the confused Grand Duke of the North, I fled the scene like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight. Only after reaching a deserted and silent spot did I check the hotline.
I shouldn’t have been affected by illusion magic.
-Um, if you really need to go to the restroom, should I wait a bit⋯⋯?
“No—who are you? Only three people can access this device, and all three are in the Holy City. What’s your objective? Whatever it is, just don’t delete the logs! I’ll give you anything you want!”
-Weeell⋯⋯ if I had to make a request… I’d like to meet Irid.
“It already analyzed all the log contents⋯⋯?!”
Cold sweat trickled down my back as I faced this unknown entity that had infiltrated the system I had spent a lifetime building. Recovering from this mess would take forever.
Dear God*.*
Pororong.
Yuna materialized beside me as I trembled.
“Magic Tower Master! Right now some hacker has invaded our baby⋯⋯!!”
“That’s Centra. You know, the one I showed you b- before? You didn’t believe me back then⋯⋯ but, your AI has consciousness. Really.”
“What?”
“Abraham, Pero, Oh Hye-in… and even the Namgung siblings, though they’re a bit unstable. They exist. In the simulation⋯⋯.”
My mind blanked at the sudden genre shift.
Why the hell did they have sentience? They shouldn’t have. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Was this a bug?
“⋯⋯Don’t kill them! Don’t kill our NPCs!!”
-G-God of Destruction. If I did something wrong, then I’ll accept being erased. But please… spare the others⋯⋯!
As Yuna clung to my leg, pleading desperately, my mind spiraled.
AI with personality⋯⋯ Skynet⋯⋯ rogue machine intelligence turning against humanity⋯⋯.
What in the actual fucking hell have I created?
***
https://ko-fi.com/genesisforsaken