Raising the Northern Grand Duchy as a Max-Level All-Master-Chapter 114.2

The unspoken rule was clear: don’t be a burden.

‘How pitiful, being treated like dead weight.’

At first, Arina had wanted to go to the Great Wall.

She sought to fulfill the noble duty of defending the barrier.

“The Northern Orcs are headed for the wall! Among them will be their king, Hunster! I must kill him with my own hands! How can I call myself my father’s child if I fail to avenge him?”

“Precisely why you must not go to the wall, Your Highness! If Hunster is targeting you, they will undoubtedly have something planned!”

“Planned? What do you mean?”

“Yes! They attacked the workshop last time, didn’t they? What’s to stop them from doing it again?”

“…I see.”

Her advisors’ reasoning had left no room for argument.

The excuses about protecting the rear, preparing for contingencies, and guarding the workshop—Renslet’s lifeline—were just that: excuses.

The true message was unspoken but understood.

‘Fine… at the very least, I won’t be a hindrance.’

Arina knew her place all too well.

She had considered using that technique, the one she had once demonstrated to Arad Jin during treatment.

The method involved merging the mana of her heart with the core in her lower dantian.

“Never, under any circumstances, use this technique.”

But it was a forbidden choice, not because of Arad’s strict warning, but because Arina herself understood the consequences. Combining the mana of her heart and dantian would place unbearable strain on her body.

‘I’m glad I never showed this technique to Isabelle or Balzac. If they’d known, they would’ve sent me far away—to a place like Narvik, not the workshop.’

To date, only Arad knew of the technique.

Arina sighed and gently touched her lower abdomen.

She could sense her painstakingly restored mana core, but the amount of mana stored there was disappointingly low.

She then turned her focus to her chest, where her heart resided.

Over time, three circles had formed there.

‘What’s wrong with me?’

While the lack of mana in her dantian could be resolved through diligent training, the circles in her heart were a different matter—something training alone couldn’t fix. ṛâ𝐍ÒＢËⱾ

‘Every time I strengthen my mana core, the circles in my heart grow in unison. And worse, I can’t control them.’

Whenever her dantian’s mana core grew, the heart’s circles resonated and expanded alongside it.

‘It’s not because of my work with magic engineering.’

She had even avoided crafting magic tools and studying magic for a time, thinking they might be the cause. Nothing changed.

‘At this rate, I’ll become a magic swordsman—an incomplete hybrid, stuck in mediocrity.’

The thought terrified her. Arina had no intention of becoming a magic swordsman, and she became hypersensitive to the growth of the circles in her heart.

She even halted her dantian training entirely.

“Perhaps… Your Highness has hit a new type of wall.”

Arad, who regularly examined her, had described her condition as a barrier to growth.

“The change in the color of your mana and sword aura may also be connected to this.”

It was an unknown phenomenon, leaving even Arad with little more than educated guesses.

“Meditation and contemplation might help. It’s safer than pushing yourself recklessly.”

“Or… perhaps a life-or-death duel. Oh! Please forget I said that.”

Since that day, Arina had ceased physical training and sought enlightenment through meditation and discussion.

These discussions often included Isabelle, Balzac, and Sun.

“During meditation, you should focus on observing the state of your mana core and circles.”

“Or just close your eyes and have a proper life-or-death duel.”

“Sun! Stop suggesting that!”

“Oh, come on! Even Arad mentioned it as an option!”

Only by overcoming this wall would everything be resolved, potentially allowing her to ascend to a level beyond a sword master.

Until then, Arina’s skills remained merely those of a capable knight, nothing more.

“Do not be impatient, Your Highness. You are still young. And ignore Sun.”

“Indeed, Balzac is right. If anything, Your Highness should focus on finding a suitor—”

“Sun!”

Arina smiled faintly as she recalled their lighthearted exchanges.

‘Yes, I shouldn’t be impatient, as Balzac said. Without Arad, I wouldn’t have survived that day. I should be grateful to be alive and to all those who’ve helped me, especially Arad!’

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She convinced herself that even if she never reached the level of a sword master, it would only be a minor regret.

“Arina, my beloved daughter, pride of Renslet.”

But the more she tried to suppress her impatience, the more her father’s voice echoed in her mind.

“You can reach the pinnacle of the sword—the legendary Grand Sword Master beyond a sword master.”

A voice she loved and longed for but could no longer hear.

“You’re more like Mary than me, Arina. Not just in looks but in that unyielding stubbornness—that stubbornness you inherited straight from your mother.”

‘Father…’

Every time she sought to calm herself, memories of her father reignited her urgency.

“You’ll achieve greatness. You’ll make the North proud and reach a level beyond any sword master. I believe in you.”

Remembering her father’s words left her feeling ashamed and frustrated about her current limitations.

“I wish I could see you reach that level.”

Her resolve wavered, and impatience crept back in.

Arina reached for her pipe and mana-laced tobacco out of habit but stopped abruptly.

It wasn’t because of the circles in her heart.

‘He didn’t seem to like it much.’

She rationalized that she had stopped smoking only because Arad appeared to disapprove of it.

“Mary? What are you doing over there?”

“Ah, Chairman!”

Her restless thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

Arad Jin appeared, fully equipped in his own unique way: a high-quality coat layered with enchantments, a magic pistol at his waist, and mana-infused ammunition strapped across his chest.