Home/The Ice Age Came? And I Just Got Married?!/ch 51

Chapter 51.

【It seems the bait has come to us on its own. I don't see the others. Could it be a trap?】

【What if they've discovered our plan?】

【It's only been two hours since we discussed using her as bait. How could they know? That's impossible. This is fortunate—let's capture her and tie her up.】

So that's why she wasn't coming out—she was inside with her subordinates, scheming.

I checked my pocket watch. About five minutes had passed.

Knock, knock.

I knocked again. Finally, I sensed movement inside.

Click—

The door opened. As expected, Countess Winterdean appeared.

"Good heavens—Your Grace, what brings you here at this hour?"

"I'm sorry—I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk and saw your light on."

"A walk in this weather...?"

At the Countess's questioning look, I just smiled. If it seemed suspicious, all the better.

For a brief moment, a calculating expression flickered across her face.

I drove the point home.

"I was just wandering, but it's actually a good thing—I've been wanting to speak with you."

The Countess stared at me silently—as if trying to read my true intentions.

"Is something wrong?"

It was already rude to come calling at this hour, but I pretended to be oblivious.

Finally, the Countess smiled and stepped aside.

"Do come in."

I entered the residence.

The interior was ordinary—a fire crackled in the hearth, and a few old landscape paintings hung on the walls.

"Please sit."

The Countess gestured to the sofa in the sitting room.

I nodded and sat down.

There had clearly been others here, but now it was just the Countess and me.

Once inside, I could sense the Winterstone's location more clearly.

It seems to be in the basement.

The basement—such an obvious place to hide something suspicious.

Noting that the door to the basement was firmly shut, I turned back to the Countess.

She was busy preparing tea for me.

Soon, she brought a teapot and two teacups.

A sweet, subtle herbal fragrance spread through the air—intoxicatingly pleasant, the kind that made you feel at ease.

The Countess didn't care about the safety of her people. Her only interest seemed to be youth.

If I drank this, she'd probably try to take my youth before using me as bait.

But she didn't know that wouldn't work on me.

I picked up the teacup.

The Countess watched my hands discreetly, pretending not to.

After lifting and lowering the cup a few times as if to drink, I glanced at her and asked,

"May I ask what your relationship is with Lieutenant Clare Shaun Wayne?"

The Countess, who had been waiting for me to drink, frowned slightly in irritation—so briefly I might have imagined it.

Then, with a sorrowful expression, she clasped her hands together and spoke.

"I wronged Lady Clare—no, Lieutenant Wayne—in many ways."

"Do you regret it?"

"Very much."

"Then do you also regret stealing the youth of innocent people?"

"Of course, I—"

She trailed off, suddenly looking up at me.

I quietly lifted the teacup and savored its fragrance. It was still sweet.

"Your answer will determine how I deal with you."

"What do you mean—"

Flustered, the Countess faltered. I kindly explained,

"For example—"

I set the teacup down.

"If you answer well, I'll only take back the Violetstone and the stolen youth."

Then I pushed the teacup toward her.

"But if you answer poorly, you'll have to brace yourself for far greater pain."

I answered calmly.

The Countess stared at the teacup I'd pushed toward her and muttered,

"You smelled it—why aren't you unconscious?"

"I have immunity to poison."

"?!"

· 

That was another early lesson from my eldest brother, Graham. Not just hunting, but also building resistance to poison.

As a child, I'd thought Graham hated me—but now I saw it differently. Could it really be coincidence?

The Countess sighed, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped her hands.

"It seems I'll have to subdue you myself."

She placed both hands on the table and tried to rise.

But her hands were stuck to the table.

She looked down at her palms in confusion.

White frost was spreading from her hands, covering them entirely.

"Wh-What is this?"

As she struggled to pull her hands free, armed people rushed down the stairs.

Two men and one woman—all in their early twenties.

I could faintly sense Winterstone energy lingering within them.

They must have stolen youth from others too.

They quickly loaded their guns and aimed at me.

I flicked my fingers.

Instantly, their gun barrels were encased in ice.

"What the—"

"Wait, what's happening?"

"Aah! My feet are stuck to the floor!"

While they panicked, I slowly rose from my seat.

The Countess, her hands frozen to the table, glared at me.

"This is your doing."

I just smiled without answering.

That seemed to infuriate her even more.

"Witch! She's a wicked witch—destroy her!"

But no one could help her.

"Ma'am—our feet are stuck too."

"We can't fire—the guns are frozen."

Watching her subordinates flounder, the Countess shrieked,

"Damn it! Damn it all!"

Bang—!

A gunshot rang out from outside.

The Countess seemed to realize what it meant—her face went pale.

She must have known that with Logan and the two soldiers moving, Sunhaven's forces stood no chance.

"Damn it—if it weren't for that wretch Clare, I'd never have made the foolish mistake of provoking Cheshwind! Aaagh! Aaaagh!"

She understood the situation better than I expected.

But it's too late.

"I've confirmed that you feel neither remorse nor regret."

I pulled out my pocket watch. Ten minutes left.

"I'll do my part—your fate will be left to someone else."

The Countess's end would be handled by Clare—that was her wish.

After cutting off her shrieks, I looked at the firmly shut basement door.

---

Logan walked calmly with one hand in his pocket.

Sunhaven's forces surrounded him.

CRASH—!

His boot struck the snow-covered ground with such force that the snow exploded upward.

In an instant, the distance closed—they couldn't keep up with his movements.

By the time they came to their senses, they were all already on the ground.

Logan looked down with an annoyed expression.

Armed men lay unconscious at his feet. It would have been quicker and cleaner to kill them all.

Tch.

But Eve didn't want that, so Logan hadn't drawn his sword.

There was no need to draw it anyway against this ragtag militia.

Logan turned calmly.

But despite his composed stride, his heart was racing.

He wanted to see Eve again—as soon as possible.

At some point, it wasn't just for Eve anymore—he needed her for himself.

"I'll watch over you. Do what you want."

The one who couldn't bear to be separated from her for even a moment wasn't her—it was him.

Logan's pace quickened.

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