To You Who Will Destroy Me - Chapter 174

The northern mountain ranges of Frost La Hill towered like jagged Vlads above the landscape, casting long shadows over the plains below. The people living in these lands led simple, rugged lives, caring little for the distant capital or the whims of their king. Their priorities were much more immediate—whether the frost would kill their crops by morning, or when they would have time to repair the wind-blocking walls of their barns.

Lieutenant Rowe Kraut, who had been dispatched from the capital, was perpetually irritated by this simplicity.

“This place is unbearably cold. No wonder they cremate their dead around here—there’s no way you could dig a grave in this frozen ground,” he grumbled, shivering under his breath. Being from the warmer south, Rowe had never adapted to the northern chill, and his gleaming armor, though impressive, only seemed to trap the cold, radiating icy discomfort.

He was always wrapped up in thick furs, gloves, and scarves, but he refused to part with his shining, yet impractical, armor. Even Lieutenant Mina teased him, saying, “You won’t freeze to death even if you forget your armor. You’ve got so many layers on, after all.”

“I don’t understand why he came here if he hates the north so much,” Mina would complain behind Rowe’s back to Calver, the commander of Frost La Hill. A hardened northerner, Mina despised whiners like Rowe.

People like Rowe, Rowe again, and, of course, Rowe Kraut. Her second least favorite person after him was Sahar Ha Mash.

“There really aren’t any decent people outside the north,” Mina would mutter to herself. Though she had briefly found Sahar’s fox-like appearance intriguing, she had soon grown tired of him. After all, what kind of resident soldier could go missing for days on end? Even her neighbor’s cat showed up more often than he did.

At times like these, it was a cruel joke that Frost La Hill was so cold that even the notorious Kitans avoided it. Those who accidentally stumbled into this frozen land were usually the most clueless of their kind. And it seemed the harsh northern climate and the thick hides of northern folk weren’t to the Kitans’ taste either.

“Ugh, it’s freezing! I’m going down to warm up by the fire. Call me if you need anything,” Rowe snapped, shaking with irritation as he descended from the fortress wall. Mina shot him a sharp glare before slyly whispering to Calver.

“Want me to knock some sense into him, Commander? He won’t be complaining about the cold if I knock his teeth out.”

“Let it go,” Calver replied with a chuckle. Despite his sharp appearance, he had a gentle temperament. In his younger days, he might have been quicker to anger, but his loving wife and children had softened him.

I can’t blame him for hating the north, Calver thought. He didn’t come here by choice.

Though he had mellowed over the years, his instincts remained sharp. He knew why Rowe had been sent from the capital.

He’s the king’s watchdog, no doubt.

The Kraut family had served the royal household for generations, holding positions like chief steward and overseeing personnel. Rowe’s presence was a clear sign that the king wanted an eye on Calver. Yet, Calver didn’t let it bother him. After all, he hadn’t done anything to provoke the royal family’s ire—at least, not yet.

“By the way, isn’t your leave coming up, Commander? You should visit home and see your wife,” Mina said, having finished venting about Rowe.

As a border duke, Calver wasn’t allowed to leave his domain for extended periods, but he was granted six weeks of leave each year to return home.

“Ah, yes. I plan to leave next month,” Calver responded, smiling warmly at the thought of his family. Mina, noticing his fond expression, murmured thoughtfully.

“Lady Irel must have grown a lot by now. Last time I saw her, she was only up to my knees.”

“She’s quite the young lady now—already over ten years old,” Calver replied, his smile broadening as he thought of his youngest daughter. It was a rare sight, seeing him so cheerful, and his white teeth even peeked through—rarer than the northern sun.

“You seem quite pleased just thinking about her,” Mina teased.

“Of course. You know what she told me the last time I was home?”

“No, what did she say?”

“She came out to see me off and whispered, ‘Dad, this is a secret, but when I grow up, I’m going to marry you.’”

Mina, usually as tough as nails, couldn’t help but be touched by the innocence of the young girl.

“I suppose that’s why everyone dotes on their daughters,” she remarked with a rare smile.

“Seems like it,” Calver agreed, and the two shared a warm laugh. Little did they know, ten years later, that same little girl would bring home a man as dangerous as a natural disaster and declare that she intended to marry him.

***

Time passed, even on the cold and dreary walls of Frost La Hill. It had been nearly a decade since Rowe Kraut had first been dispatched to the fortress.

The young man who had once been bundled up in thick furs, unable to tolerate the cold, was now…

“Wow, short sleeves?” Mina quipped, raising an eyebrow as she passed him. Technically, they were more like three-quarter sleeves, but still, it was a surprising change.

“It’s still summer, isn’t it?”

Rowe rubbed his muscled, bare arm awkwardly as he responded. Despite it technically being summer, the temperature still hovered around 8 degrees Celsius, which in the north was practically a heatwave. The gaudy armor he had once been so proud of was long forgotten, likely buried somewhere in the depths of his quarters.

“I’m heading for a drink of vodka. Care to join me?”

“Sure,” Rowe agreed without hesitation. He used to be a connoisseur of the rich, aromatic wines from the capital, and had once despised northern vodka.

“It’s just alcohol mixed with water! Disgusting!” he had often complained, making him a target of more than a few death glares from the northerners who cherished their vodka. Remembering that, Mina glanced at him slyly.

“Vodka suits your taste now, huh?”

“Can’t get enough of it,” Rowe replied with a grin.

It had taken him years, but he eventually realized that in the north, vodka wasn’t just for pleasure—it was essential for survival, keeping the body warm through the bone-chilling cold. In that sense, vodka was the perfect drink. It didn’t cause too much drunkenness, was high in alcohol content, and went down smoothly. It was perfect for sipping between shifts, whenever the cold started to bite.

The flavor, being mild, paired perfectly with the heavily salted northern foods. It was, in short, a practical choice.

“Looks like you’ve finally become a northerner,” Mina remarked, laughing as she watched Rowe down three shots of vodka with a bite of jerky. It wasn’t just Rowe who had changed over the years; time had worked its magic on both of them.

He’s actually not bad, she thought.

Building camaraderie wasn’t just about personalities—it was about the time spent together. In the beginning, everyone had their guard up around an outsider from the capital, but ten years was too long a time to keep those walls up.

They had shared countless cold northern nights on watch, warming each other with laughter and white puffs of breath in the frozen dawn. Together, they had patrolled, intercepted spies, and fended off the occasional lost Kitan who stumbled into their lands, protecting the locals.

These experiences accumulated like layers of dust—imperceptible at first, but undeniable over time.

“Who would’ve thought I’d end up here…” Rowe sometimes lamented when the vodka hit hard. Despite his noble upbringing and refined tastes, Rowe had always been something of an afterthought in his family.

Though he had been sent as the king’s watchdog, no one in the Kraut family had wanted this assignment. Who in their right mind would leave the luxurious capital for the freezing mountains of the north?

But someone had to be sent, and that someone was Rowe Kraut.

“What else could I do? My elder brother’s the future head of the family, and my sister’s set to marry into a powerful house…”

So, of course, it had to be the useless third son who was sacrificed.

“You know how it goes—those who feel unappreciated by their families cling to anything they can to prove themselves,” Rowe muttered, his face flushed from the vodka.

“No matter how useless I am, how could they not even invite me to my sister’s wedding? After all I’ve done, all the hardships I’ve faced out here?”

He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, the skin chapped and white from frostbite.

“And what’s the point of earning a salary out here? It’s not like there are any amusements in this backwater, nor is there any fashion to keep up with.”

Being posted in the north meant his basic needs were covered, and with little to spend his money on, Rowe’s salary had slowly piled up over the years. Eventually, he spent it on two luxurious furs—pure white bear pelts, expensive enough to make anyone envious. It was one of the few indulgences the north could offer.

Rowe had sent the furs to his parents, remembering how they had complained about the cold seeping into their bones as they aged.

“But when I returned home for leave, I found out they’d given them to my brother and sister. And they didn’t even bother mentioning that they came from me.”

Guess I’m destined to be the family’s idiot forever, Rowe thought bitterly as he wiped his eyes. Mina, who had listened quietly, gave him a solid pat on the back.

“You’re doing fine here. You’ve earned your place.”

“Mina…” Rowe’s eyes glistened as he looked at her, clearly moved by the blunt yet comforting words.

“You know, if I’d been born five years earlier, I would’ve proposed to you.”

“Too bad,” Mina responded with a warm smile, before cutting him off sharply. “You’re not my type.”