I reincarnated as the Duke from the North.

Diary log #8

The journey has become unbearable. From the bitter cold that bites my fingers to the perverted eyes of the red-headed noble. Always coming to talk, always has something to show me. I brush him off. But all he reminds me of is his position. That he is my better. That he is gracious enough to give me his time. Utter nonsense. But I bear with it. Can't make a disturbance. He is but a man, my sister says; ‘they can't control their urges’. But if I can stop myself from targeting his genitals with a kick, he can stop being a cretin for the duration of our journey.

The further north we go, the colder it gets. Two days ago, we first saw snow. I touched it once to feel the ice melt within my fingers but even colder stares stopped me from having any semblance of enjoyment. The Duchess. The ever-present observer. Always watched me. Surveying me. Is she worried about how I would treat her stepson? Against my will, I have been taught well in the ways of the noble lady. My manner's exquisite; there should be nothing for her to find fault in. But her scowl haunts me. Red lipsticked lips downturn whenever I am within her sight.

Unbearable.

My only comfort is my friend, who sits next me by the fire every night. Firecracker made human. Jen makes anything fun. Even being sold to a sickly noble.

Heard he was older by a year but bedridden for many more. Jen jests that I should take everything he has and become a rich widow. Her humour has always been a bit too dark for me. Especially now, since it could be my new reality.

The sickly duke… I hope he is not like his brother.

“You arseholes, get any good sleep?” I said to my Osberg guard.

“Yes, your grace!” They shout. Shivering in heavy coats, they ride their horse.

“Bucha liars.” The Osberg Guard chuckled.

“Alright men. As you can see, a sudden blizzard has come to us. Out there, our people are stuck. With the snow piling up, we need to move fast. Double-checked your gear?”

“Yes, your grace!”

Next to me was a shire horse with long hair on the hoofs, gruffed and huffed, packed with essentials.

I breathed in deeply, trying to calm the nerves that had been building up for many weeks. I exhale.

Its time. The day I have spent every waking day preparing for. The days spent with the guard searching the winter lands for cursed beasts.

All to help her.

With the cursed eliminated in the area of the road, the blizzard will be the only problem they will have to deal with. And her friend won't need to be sacrificed for the story's sake.

I could go on my own, but my instincts nag at me. There could be something going on that I can't predict or plan for. Davis confirmed my suspicions. I cannot look at TAPLM at face value. This is a world where people and even beasts have as much agency as I do.

And so I bring my personal army of first circles.

I placed my black boot on my horse's stirrup. My right leg over the seat placed my other foot. I sat on a saddle for the first time in my life. However, it had been years since Tarions first time. My bottom squeezed the leather seat, my gloved hands gripped tight on the reins. So new but feels right…

I shouted for the whole platoon to hear. “Let's ride! TO FULKEN ROAD!”

“Oh, fuck this shit.”

Rough winds and snow pelt us from the side, and our horses trudged deeper into the growing snow. I turned to the left, and my captain withstood the blizzard. I search on my right, a Butler returns to his roots, travelling with ease. These hardened men are havinga hard time, what say of Vanessa? Her friend?

The light dimmed to almost darkness. Our specially prepared lanterns are our only way through this road. Make sense how the cursed would surprise an escort of seconds and thirds circles. Many would've died in the dark. Like Vanessa's childhood friend. Sacrificing herself for Vanessa to die eaten alive by an obsidian monster. If Vanessa wasn't found later by the remnants of the escort guard she would have frozen to death in the blizzard. It became a day she would bore like an itchy scar on her heart from then onwards.

I understood her pain. Her grief. Her anger about not being able to do anything. So why have I tried so hard to help?

Because I can. I can make things better.

I heard clangs in the storm. Metal hitting metal. I quickly dismount. My greatsword shinged as I pulled it out from my back.

I project my voice as loudly as my powerful lungs could. “MEN, PREPARE FOR BATTLE!!” I heard my men take out their swords and shields.

Status.

Twenty points in agility and my body is charged. A newfound vitality coursed through my body and gave me a battle high.

“Charles. Hang back and hide. Kurt. With me.”

“Yes, your grace!” They shouted.

My mana circles revved, spinning around my heart, and my family's sword hummed with blue mana. In a tail stance, I crouched.

I hear the roar of battle in the wind.

“PROTECT. FIGHT.”

Always trust your instincts.

“CHARGE!”

Snow exploded under my feet, leaping forward on the snow. Each step took me several metres. I step again into eight-inch snow, feet bursting with mana. I feel the stone road as I am propelled forward. The wind pulled and dragged the skin on my face.

I slash. A head spun in the air as I spun using the sword's momentum. Still moving at speed, stabbed under my right armpit, skewering a man. I pulled out, leaving entrails on the snow to slash down on an attacker. Mana sawed through their body like a hot knife on butter. I kicked the dead body off to parry a low then a strike to my neck.

Dressed like a hunter. Bandits?

I riposted with a quick jab to the neck.

I guess I won't know from this man

I placed my hand on the blade to block a heavy strike. Feet skirted across the snow and a punchy fighter approached with a grin.

Cloak billowing in the wind, I reallocated the half of the twenty points from earlier to strength. The second circle ran at me. A downward strike was evaded with a spin, knocking from behind the left side of his head with my elbow. With the bandit stunned, I turned again, slashing him across his navel from my left to right.

I felt a breeze and tilted my head. A glowing sword felt hot by my pale skin.

Nice to feel warm again.

I slipped under the blue-hued blade, cutting up into a bandit's forearm. I heard a very satisfying scream before I slashed down.

Where is she?

Knowing he can hear me among the noise, I shout for my captain. “Kurt! Find a light blonde woman with her friend!”

“Yes, your grace!”

I leaned back just as my longer blade cut into the attacking man’s chest. He fell and I was greeted with another attack on my back. Pivoting on my foot, I slashed behind me, and a cloud of snow was flung in the air as my blade divided the ground. I missed the enemy, who then tried to come in close to stab me from the side with twin daggers. My pommel cracked him straight in the jaw. I slashed, blowing a gust, and a staggered bandit fell to the snow. He bled. Split open like a banana peel.

I gather my bearings. My men catch up on their horses. Recognising their fellow guard, they fight the bandits together. The blizzard got worse. My vision became impaired by the rushing snowflakes falling diagonally.

“Your Grace!!” I hear within the storm and battle.

I ran in the snow with enhanced speed, knicking enemies with cuts and helping my men on the way to Kurt.

His arm bleeding and his chest plate ruptured, my bodyguard defended a carriage. He parried eight swords, mist forming from his breath.

I pounced. Launching myself towards the enemy, I wound my arm back and lunged with all my strength. The air turned to vapour before my blade boomed. One, two, three men, my blade pierced. I roar, pulling out my greatsword from their stomachs to decapitate a fourth man.

“Come at me, you mangy bastards!”