Exiled Prince: I'm the Unexpected Extra in the Novel-Chapter 115: The War for the North[3] The Frozen Line Between Life and Death

Chapter 115: The War for the North[3] The Frozen Line Between Life and Death

Frosthelm’s capital, the Winter Keep, still stood tall and proud, in stark contrast to the world outside.

Its massive ice-covered walls rose toward the sky, and the towers and buildings within the city shimmered as if they were part of a frozen fairy tale.

Unlike the ruined villages and diseased faces Cassian had seen along the way, this place was still the last bastion of order, power, and safety.

Frosthelm’s main street was like a vein that remained alive even in winter. Although covered in snow, the city streets were surprisingly orderly and well-maintained. Frozen water filling the cracks between the stone cobblestones polished the ground with a thin layer of ice; the bluish light of the lanterns refracted on this surface, creating a ghostly shimmer.

The houses were generally built from a mixture of granite and brick. The roofs were sharp, the windows narrow and high; all designed to break the freezing winds encircling the city.

Some of the windows seemed naturally decorated with ice patterns; it was as if snowflake motifs had been sealed onto the glass.

Merchants, fur traders, mana lamp repairmen, ice sculptors, and hunters occasionally passed through the crowd wandering the streets. Small bluish-white flags hung in front of most shops, a sign symbolizing the power of the mystical beast Cryomara’s barrier.

Sounds from the distance echoed in the city: The rhythmic strikes of a blacksmith forging metal, Greengrocers shouting "Fresh snowberries!", The heavy steps of sentries’ boots breaking the ice on the ground...

The entire atmosphere resembled a city that was cold but alive, ascetic but safe, silent but at the same time orderly.

The Winter Keep looked like a massive ice palace rising in the center of the city.

The walls of the keep were not built of normal stone; they were constructed from blue ice reinforced with mana.

This ice was a special material that was both unbreakable and unaffected by the cold. When sunlight hit the walls, the entire keep shone like a giant crystal; at night, it absorbed the light and emitted a pale blue aura.

The keep consisted of four main parts:

The Outer Walls: Thick, notched, and reinforced at every corner with massive ice towers.

The Inner Courtyard: In the center stood a giant stylized statue of Cryomara; a light mana mist rose continuously from within the statue.

The Heart of Ice Tower: The high tower to which the upper wings where the Duchess lived were connected.

The Main Palace: A vast complex adorned with high columns, silver engravings, long blue-white flags, and sharp architectural lines.

Fine snowflakes swirled constantly in the upper parts of the castle, wrapping around it like an aura. Even the sound of the wind was different here; it produced a high-pitched, crystalline melody as it hit the castle walls.

As one got closer, the watchtowers where the ice guards stood on the walls became visible.

Each guard wore silver-blue armor and carried cloaks on their shoulders embroidered with the lion-eagle hybrid crest of Frosthelm.

Looking at this fortress, only one word came to mind: Might.

The people of Frosthelm filled both sides of the main street Cassian walked on. These harsh people of the North, when viewed from the outside, looked cold, resilient, and silent just like the lands they inhabited. They paid no mind to the icy wind hitting their faces, carrying the suffocating weight of winter as if it were a natural part of their daily lives.

Only their noses and eyes were visible from under their fur coats. Despite this, it was possible to understand something from the stance on their faces: these people bore the traces of that harsh determination possessed by those who had lived in frozen lands for years. Their cheeks were slightly pink from the cold, their lips cracked, and their gazes frozen in a cautious manner, scanning their surroundings carefully.

Yet, beneath all this harsh appearance of the crowd, there was something else—fatigue. The uneasiness of living in the shadow of the Obsidian Dawn could be felt as a subtle restlessness in their every movement. This tension was clearly visible in the fingers of a mother gripping her child’s arm tightly, in the involuntary glance a merchant threw over his shoulder while wiping his display case, or in the way a guard’s hand stayed close to his sword.

The people of Frosthelm approached strangers with an instinctive reserve. Everyone knew and recognized each other; when they saw an unfamiliar face, a suspicion that appeared like a momentary pang would surface in their eyes. But these same people held just as strong a bond among themselves. Two people would immediately run to help an old man who fell in front of a merchant’s shop, and no one would object to a soldier’s warning. Order and discipline were like invisible blood circulating in the veins of this city.

This orderly silence, mixed with the cold air, was occasionally broken by the crackle of an ice lantern, a girl laughing and then being immediately hushed, or the smell of hot soup rising from an inn. Everything flowed in a rhythm compatible with the snow-covered soul of the city.

And the same thing could be read on the faces of all these people: If this city is alive, it is alive thanks to Cryomara’s barrier. And every single one of them knew very well that the world outside the barrier was no longer trustworthy.

The people of Frosthelm were a society that was both tough and fragile, both strong and with boundaries fixed by fear. And as Cassian passed through the crowd, he could feel the cold permeated into these people not just in the air, but in their souls as well.

Above the city, that powerful, freezing mana barrier emitted by the North’s protective Mystical Beast, Cryomara, wrapped the city like a bell jar and kept the curse of the Obsidian Dawn out.

Cassian had a thoughtful expression on his face as he walked through the crowd on the city’s main street.

His black cloak and hood made him look like an ordinary traveler in the crowd. His mind, however, was occupied with the question of how to infiltrate that massive castle he was approaching.

"How will I get into the castle?" he thought, not taking his eyes off the magnificent structure. "How will I meet with Duchess Cecilia?"

Fredrinn’s suggestion before leaving Veythral came to his mind: "Let’s send a message beforehand." It was a logical suggestion, a safe way.

But in this era, in a place like Frosthelm where Obsidian Dawn agents ran rampant, the probability of an official message falling into the wrong hands before reaching the Duchess was very high.

"There are too many traitors," Cassian muttered. "I can’t take the risk."

As if bored of walking, he lay down on an empty bench on the street.

The hardness of the cold wood relieved the tension in his back a little. He took a deep sigh.

"I can enter the Duchess’s room unauthorized and unannounced," he thought, weighing the possibilities in his mind. "But Cecilia Frosthelm is not an ordinary noble. Her ice magic is as deadly as a dragon’s breath. If she finds me in her room unannounced, I’ll turn into an ice statue before I even have the chance to explain myself. I don’t want to be killed."

"Approaching the guards?" That was also an option. "But who will I trust? How can I know which guard is loyal and which is a cult agent? I would be exposing myself. The plan would collapse."

He was at an impasse. His goal was right under his nose, but reaching it was as hard as climbing a mountain of ice.

"Nivelle," Cassian said, calling out to his little sister. "What do you think I should do?"

Nivelle’s voice echoed in Cassian’s mind. "I don’t know, brother. But just barging into the castle haphazardly doesn’t sound very safe."

Cassian sighed again. "It is really frustrating that the target is so close yet so unreachable at the same time."

There was silence for a while. Then Nivelle spoke excitedly as if a bright idea had come to her mind.

"Hey! I have a suggestion, brother."

"I’m listening."

"Why don’t you sneak into the room and leave a letter on her bed?" Nivelle said. "You are good enough at stealth. If you completely hide your presence with the chaos flames, you can do this without anyone noticing you."

Cassian fell into thought about this suggestion. "That..." he said slowly. "That is possible."

If he just left a message instead of confronting her directly... The Duchess would be aware of his presence.

With the information in the letter, he could make her trust him and arrange a safe meeting. This minimized the risk of direct conflict.

"Yes," Cassian said, settling the plan in his head. "I think I can do this. In fact... I must. Thanks, Nivelle. When this is over, I will reward you with as many sweets as you want."

"Hehe!" Nivelle said with delight. "You better not forget your promise, brother!"

Cassian got up from the bench. He scouted the surroundings. No one was looking at him.

His body changed in an instant. Under his black cloak, he disappeared like a shadow for a second, and in his place appeared a pitch-black crow blending in with the night.

He spread his wings and took off silently toward the highest tower of the Winter Keep.

He cleared the castle walls, skillfully avoiding the line of sight of the sentry soldiers. He landed on a balcony looking over the inner courtyard of the castle, the section where the Duchess’s private wing was located.

From here on, it was even more delicate.

Cassian shed his crow form and landed on the floor as a tiny, inconspicuous spider. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

He climbed the castle walls and slipped in through the window sills. He advanced through the corridors, on the ceilings, in the places where the shadows were darkest.

He checked one room, then another. Maid’s rooms, empty guest rooms, the library...

And finally, he found the room he was looking for.

This was a spacious and luxurious room with the lights on.

The walls were decorated with ice-blue and silver engravings.

A white polar bear skin was spread on the floor. In the middle of the room stood a massive four-poster bed; the sheets were spotless white silk and tidy.

A light fire was burning in the fireplace, warming the room. On the nightstand beside the bed sat a few books that were evidently being read and an elegant nightgown that might belong to a young woman.

Cassian had reached his target.

He shed his spider form and appeared in the middle of the room in his true form.

His white hair shone in the moonlight. His red eyes scanned the details of the room.

He opened his dimensional portal and took out that precious letter bearing the seals of Evershade and the other allies. He carefully placed the letter on Cecilia’s pillow.

The mission was complete. Now, he had to leave just as he came, without anyone noticing him.

He was just about to turn around and head for the window when...

His eye caught a piece of clothing that seemed to have been left in a hurry next to the nightgown on the bed.

It was a woman’s underwear. Small white panties with lace.

Cassian didn’t know what he was doing at that moment. His brain seemed to have stopped. That intelligent boy who never lost his cool in battle, who made hundreds of plans, who was trying to save the world, suddenly succumbed to a meaningless, childish curiosity.

He reached out his hand and picked up those small white panties with the tips of his fingers. He held them up in the air.

He narrowed his eyes, examining them as if trying to decipher a complex magic scroll.

"Weird," he thought inwardly, with an expression of pure curiosity on his face. "Why are they so small and tight? Triangular shape... Why do they wear them like this? Wouldn’t wearing boxers be more comfortable? They are literally torturing themselves."

And right at that moment...

The worst timing in Cassian’s life occurred.

The other door inside the bedroom, the bathroom door, opened with a noise.

Someone came out from inside along with steam.

Duchess Cecilia Frosthelm.

She had only a large white towel wrapped around her body. Her wet, bluish-white hair stuck to her shoulders and bare back. Her body was slightly pink from the effect of the hot shower.

Cecilia stopped in the middle of the room. Her blue eyes widened in shock, her mouth left slightly open.

Her gaze locked onto the intruder standing in the middle of her room, right by her bedside.

A young boy with white hair and red eyes. And the thing he was holding up in the air and examining carefully... was her panties.

Cecilia froze. Shame, shock, and anger turned her cheeks from pink to dark red.

As for Cassian... at that moment, everything lost its meaning for him. The revenge he would take on Dr. Aris, the dream of killing that silver-haired bastard, the operation to save the North, the dream of entering the Academy, the mission to save Kaiser’s daughter... All of them vanished in the shadow of those small white panties.

The only thing he cared about right now was moving at the speed of light, escaping to a cave in the farthest corner of the world, and never seeing the light of day again.

Because right now, he had signed his own death warrant. And in a disgraceful way at that.

Cassian activated "Storm Heart" in panic. Time slowed down, but not slow enough for him. His only chance was to bolt out of the open window.

He tried to turn.

But...

The room suddenly turned ice cold. The moisture in the air froze, ice crystals formed on the walls.

The window and doors were sealed with a thick, impassable layer of ice within seconds.

Cassian was trapped.

And at that moment, the only sound echoing in his ears was not the noble command of a duchess, but the scream of a woman maddened with rage:

"DIE, PERVERT!!"