Home/The Ice Age Came? And I Just Got Married?!/ch 101

Chapter 101.

"Eve—are you alright?"

At Logan's question, I nodded.

"It's—it's the Heart of Frost."

I looked back into the vault.

" What was here—it's definitely the Heart of Frost."

I was full of confusion—my mind drifting, trying to grasp what I'd just seen.

So mages really did exist three thousand years ago.

And a silver-haired, blue-eyed baby.

Who was that?

What was the Heart of Frost trying to show me? I couldn't even guess.

"Wait—there's something here."

Aiden picked up a paper stuck under the shelf.

Half-torn, most of it faded with old bloodstains.

Only a few lines remained legible:

[Emergency Transfer Record]

Items recovered from Vault 7.

Transferred to the underground sealing chamber of Norton Manor.

Authorized personnel only.

"The manor?"

Aiden's expression stiffened.

Graham looked over the note and muttered,

"A sealing chamber—does the manor have such a facility?"

He asked Aiden.

Aiden was silent for a moment, then slowly shook his head.

"Not that I've heard of."

"Then what is this?"

"The manor has underground storage and armories—but nothing called a sealing chamber. Though..."

He frowned, searching his memory.

"There's one door that won't open. No one approaches it—no, more precisely, no one can approach it."

Graham asked, puzzled,

"What do you mean?"

Aiden answered slowly.

"The moment you step within a certain distance, your body begins to freeze."

Brian unfolded his arms and looked at Aiden—everyone was focused.

"Your fingers go numb, your breath stops—at first I thought it was the cold, but it wasn't. Even with a stove, even with a Redstone, it didn't help."

I unconsciously looked down at my hands.

If even the power to melt cold didn't work, it wasn't ordinary chill.

But... I felt like I could open it.

It wasn't a Winterstone's presence—it felt like the Heart of Frost itself was telling me so.

"A few soldiers tried to force their way in—they all lost consciousness. Since then, no one goes near it."

The air grew heavy.

I quietly pressed my chest.

The Winterstones inside me were still faintly pulsing.

It was strange—while everyone feared that door, I felt a urge to see it.

Could it be...

Was the Heart of Frost speaking to me again?

Just then—

Thump.

My heart gave another strong beat—clearer than before.

As if someone was calling me from that door, telling me to come.

"We should go to the manor."

At my words, Aiden nodded reluctantly.

"Entering the manor is fine—but keep this in mind."

His voice dropped lower.

"Don't be surprised by my staff."

---

By the time we returned to the manor, the sun had already set.

Aiden led the way through the gate—soldiers bowed in unison.

"Your Highness!"

"Thank goodness you're safe!"

Aiden raised his hand briefly in acknowledgment and walked inside.

"Are the staff in the meeting room?"

"Yes—they've been waiting."

The soldiers glanced at us and asked cautiously,

"And these people are...?"

Without slowing, Aiden replied calmly,

"You'll find out soon."

At that, the soldiers asked no more—they parted to let us pass.

We walked down the long corridor, deeper into the manor.

Fires flickered in the old red-carpeted corridor, and through the windows, the dark snowscape of Norton was barely visible.

At the end, Aiden stopped before a heavy oak door with brass fittings.

Shouts were already faintly audible from within.

He sighed deeply.

"As I said—please don't be surprised."

With that, he opened the door.

BANG!

"I told you—His Highness is alive!"

"This old fool keeps insisting!"

"I never insisted! The Earl himself said he might not have survived!"

"I said 'missing,' not 'unlikely to return'!"

"It's the same thing!"

In the middle of the room, four middle-aged men were shouting across the table.

One, with a thick beard, held a beer bottle and bellowed; another, with crooked glasses, gripped a chair and shouted back.

"..."

"..."

We froze. Brian was the first to speak.

"...They're nobles, right?"

Aiden couldn't answer easily.

They were nobles—I knew that much, from the novel.

Aiden had continued taking in survivors. Every time he went out, he rescued more, until the manor was full.

Maybe because of his nature, the staff had grown increasingly combative.

Nathan had described them as "corrupt advisors" and "authoritarian nobles."

That might have been true months ago—but now, survival mattered more than authority.

Though, they certainly lacked dignity.

And among them, a familiar face greeted us—Vincent, in silver armor.

The moment he bowed to Aiden—

"Your Highness!"

"You really are alive!"

"Hey—move! I'm hugging him first!"

"You smell like booze—stay back!"

Rush—

The four men surged forward.

Aiden, as if used to it, sighed as they embraced him.

"...That's why I warned you."

I stared blankly at the scene.

Looking at them now, you'd never guess they'd been corrupt, authoritarian nobles just months ago.

Cooperation doesn't seem likely—they all seem convinced their own opinion is right.

"You've brought guests!"

"Did you pick up more survivors?"

"Our Highness is too soft—the manor's bursting!"

"Get them tea!"

"Forget tea—it's freezing! Give them brandy!"

"Are you insane? Brandy at their first visit?"

"What's wrong with brandy? It warms you up!"

Wow—even louder than I expected.

Aiden cleared his throat.

"Allow me to introduce them."

All eyes turned our way.

"These are the Duke and Duchess of Cheshwind—Logan Arthur Cheshwind and Eve Rania Cheshwind."

"..."

"And this is Lady Amelia Rosalind Ravenshire of the Ravenhouse ducal family."

"..."

"And this is Graham Oswald Everhart, heir to the Everhart earldom."

"..."

"I'll skip Brian—you know him."

The room went silent.

The men who had been shouting and grabbing each other moments ago straightened their backs.

"...?"

One frantically fixed his crooked tie, another hid his beer bottle.

An old bearded man cleared his throat and put on a solemn expression.

The chaotic atmosphere shifted instantly.

Playful faces vanished, replaced by the weight of elders who had led noble society for decades.

Now I could see the "authoritarian nobles" Vincent had described.

"A pleasure to meet you."

"I am Armand de Belois, chief of staff of Norton Manor."

"It's an honor to receive you."

They greeted us with such grace and propriety that it was hard to believe they'd been shouting "old fool" moments ago.

But their composure didn't last.

"Hey."

One staff member nudged another.

"I told you to hide that bottle."

"Shut up—you were the one yelling first."

"Please, just show some decorum."

"In this ruined world, does decorum feed you?"

Aiden pressed his temples.

"...Dignity lasted ten seconds."

Vincent chuckled.

"Ten seconds is actually quite good for today."

I could imagine the usual atmosphere here—it was more familiar than I'd expected.

But we weren't here just to socialize.

I cautiously spoke.

"We came here because we have something to do in this manor."

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