Unbeknownst to him, ten days had already passed since Sang’s arrival in Wembuni. On one hand, violent blizzards had been raging across the Northern Region lately. On the other, Orcus Hill’s condition still required ongoing care, so the young man couldn’t leave just yet. He had no choice but to remain in the Northern Fortress for the time being.
Ever since that day at the Rose Knight Order Headquarters, Sang had seen Snow Hill return almost every day—drenched in blood from head to toe, mounted on a black steed, riding in alone from the field. She always went out alone, never taking anyone with her.
Snow Hill never seemed tired, nor did her expression ever change. No matter the circumstances—even caked in blood—she remained like a blooming snow lotus: pure, aloof, and utterly untouchable.
Werewolves were a nomadic people. Long ago, they had splintered into small tribes, and they were still in the midst of gathering their forces. The Rose Knight Order’s mission was to strike down these scattered tribes one by one, weakening their overall strength as much as possible before the decisive battle.
In short, this clash in the North was inevitable. The werewolves were assembling, while the Blood Race hoped to whittle down their numbers before they could fully unite.
No one knew exactly when the all-out war would erupt, but it felt like it would be soon.
Meanwhile, nourished by the young man’s blood, Family Head Orcus Hill’s injuries and illness had gradually improved. In the past few days, he had even been able to get out of bed and walk around. Sang had spotted the old man in the manor a few times.
Though it was Sang’s first time laying eyes on Orcus Hill, the man was being supported by Thea Hill. Guessing his identity would have been impossible only for someone dense as a brick.
If Hesos Hill carried a natural commanding aura; if Snow Hill exuded elegant yet awe-inspiring presence; then Orcus Hill was the sort who grew kinder with age. Though he rarely smiled, there was an inexplicable warmth about him.
His blank expression didn’t come off as intimidating in the slightest.
“Young man, would you mind keeping this old one company for a game of chess?”
“Ah… Me, play chess with you?” Sang could hardly believe his ears. For the head of a great family to personally invite a mere human to play chess with him—it was flattering beyond belief.
The heads of the Four Great Families were supposed to be the pinnacle powerhouses of this world.
According to Helen, those who wielded Soul Weapons were existences even the True Ancestor had to tread carefully around. And that held true even for a frail old man—no one could ignore his formidable strength.
There was one common misconception worth clearing up.
Snow Hill was the First Knight, the uncrowned queen among all knights. But the family head clearly fell outside that category, as did many other mighty figures who weren’t knights at all, lurking in the shadows.
Orcus Hill nodded. “Mm… Hesos and Snow are both away, and Thea doesn’t know how to play. I’ve been bedridden too long—even if I can’t move my body, I want to exercise my mind a bit. I heard from Snow that you often kept the True Ancestor company at chess in the 【Heavenly Key】. Your skills must be decent. Care to indulge me?”
Ah… He did indeed play chess with the 【True Ancestor】 every day.
Unfortunately, over the past half year, he’d only won a single game of Flying Chess—and that was thanks to a mischievous gust of spring wind. Come to think of it, it had been a full fifty days since he’d last seen the True Ancestor. He felt… a little nostalgic?
No!
Not at all!
Absolutely not!
In the next instant, Sang shoved those thoughts aside and refocused on Orcus Hill. Well, he had nothing better to do anyway. “Sure, no problem. I’ll play with you.”
No need to overcomplicate it. It was just a simple game of chess with an old fellow.
The Northern Region that day was overcast, with neither sun nor snow—just a sky that looked on the verge of tears but couldn’t quite cry. They played in a side hall: floor-to-ceiling windows on one side, a roaring fireplace on the other. And the game? A surprise—Beast Battle Chess.
“You’re a transmigrator too, sir?” Sang blurted, startled at first, then probing cautiously.
Orcus Hill froze, utterly baffled. “A what? This is just a little toy I had someone imitate, based on intelligence Snow brought back.”
“Oh… Got it. You scared me there…”
“So, what exactly is a ‘transmigrator’?”
“N-Nothing! Just my nerves playing tricks… Let’s play!”
Sang had braced himself for a chess massacre, but to his surprise, he and Orcus Hill traded blows evenly.
Had all those games against the True Ancestor honed his skills?
No, no—more likely, Orcus Hill was just plain terrible at it.
After four games—with Sang winning three—he started feeling bored and suggested calling it quits. But the old man blocked his path, his face expressionless yet oddly solemn. “Young man, a few more rounds?”
Sang: “…”
Was this the legendary noob with a massive addiction to the game?
Regardless, when the master of the house insisted on a few more games, Sang could hardly refuse. In the rounds that followed, he went easy on purpose and tossed in some casual conversation.
“Grand Duke… Mind if I ask you a few questions?”
The man was a proper duke, after all. No matter how bold Sang got, he wouldn’t dare get disrespectful—especially not on the man’s home turf. “Grand Duke” was a title best kept to his thoughts.
Orcus Hill eyed the board intently, replying offhandedly, “Go ahead.”
“The Werewolf Ancestor… or rather, the Wolf King. Is he really that strong?”
Sang phrased it tactfully.
He didn’t outright say, “Didn’t the Wolf King beat the tar out of you, the current head of one of the Four Great Duke Families, nearly killing you? Is he for real?”
Orcus Hill might be advanced in years, but he was still a top-tier powerhouse with a Soul Weapon. For even him to lose—that made his opponent sound monstrously powerful!
Sang was genuinely curious. Now that he was in the thick of things up North, he needed to grasp the situation, weigh the strengths on both sides, and make informed judgments.
Orcus Hill clearly hadn’t expected the question. He sat there in his chair, stunned for a moment, then lifted his gaze to the drifting snow outside the window, his thoughts a tangled mess.
“For starters, you’re not wrong on that point. The Wolf King is incredibly powerful. Thousands of years ago, he clashed with the True Ancestor and ultimately fell to the First Hill Patriarch. That’s straight from the Hill Family library—undisputed fact. But no matter how mighty he was back then, after so many generations and eons of time, he should have withered away to dust. Even if he survived, he’d be a decrepit old coot by now… And yet, the Wolf King I faced that day was in his prime—a middle-aged man around forty. I have no idea what happened.”
By this point, waves were crashing in Sang’s heart.
For real? The Wolf King had even fought the True Ancestor… Just how insanely strong was that guy?
Plus, the True Ancestor hadn’t managed to kill him, but the First Hill Patriarch had battered him into hibernation. That First Hill Patriarch sounded like a beast himself…
“From the sound of it, doesn’t this Northern war look pretty hopeless for us?”
Sang couldn’t hide his shock. If even a Soul Weapon-wielding family head like you couldn’t take down their leader, then who could step up!?
Orcus Hill merely shook his head. “You’re right. This old one’s too far gone. Even with a Soul Weapon, I can’t beat the Wolf King. So after this long recovery, I’ve decided to name my successor… And before the war truly begins, I’ll pass the Soul Weapon on to that person.”
