"The Ice valley?" Mr. Hilton asked as he gazed at his son. "Since when are you interested in such topics?"
Northern thought for a while before replying. "Father, I want to become a better person. No more living a reckless and foolish life."
Mr. Hilton leaned back slightly in his chair, his brows lifting at his son's unexpected words. For a long moment, he simply studied Northern in silence, as though trying to see whether this was another one of Lucas's jokes—or if he truly meant it this time.
Then he gave a quiet chuckle, though there was a hint of disbelief in his tone. "You… want to become a better person?"
Northern nodded, his gaze steady. "Yes, Father. I've realized that I've wasted too much time doing meaningless things. I want to start over—to become someone worthy of our family name."
For the first time, Mr. Hilton didn't see arrogance or playfulness in his son's eyes. Instead, there was something new—resolve. It startled him more than he would admit.
He stood up slowly, walked toward the window, and clasped his hands behind his back. The flames from the hearth cast a soft glow on his broad shoulders. "Lucas," he said at last, "you've said many things before, but this… this might be the first time I actually believe you."
Northern stayed silent, allowing his father to continue.
"The Ice Valley, you said?" Mr. Hilton turned slightly, his expression serious now. "That's not a place to mention lightly. You do understand what kind of place it is, don't you?"
"I've heard bits and pieces," Northern replied carefully. "That it's a place where ice mages go to train. But I'd like to know the truth from you."
Mr. Hilton nodded, his eyes distant as though recalling an old memory. "Very well. The Ice Valley is one of the most sacred lands in the northern territories. It lies far beyond the Frost Peaks, buried beneath layers of blizzards and ancient wards. The valley itself is said to have been formed by the tears of the first Ice Deity—when she fell in battle against the Flame Emperor, thousands of years ago."
Northern's eyes widened slightly. "A Deity's tears?"
"Yes." His father's tone grew more solemn. "Those tears froze into the eternal glacier that now sustains the entire valley. The air there is thick with pure Ice mana—so thick, in fact, that even breathing becomes difficult for anyone who does not have affinity with the element. But for those who do, the valley is a treasure beyond measure. A single week of training there can be equal to months or even years of meditation elsewhere."
He paused, walking closer to the bookshelf and brushing his fingers against the spine of an old, worn-out tome. "However, there's a reason it is both revered and forbidden. The Ice Valley is alive, Lucas. It breathes, it watches. The deeper one goes, the colder it gets, not only to the body but to the spirit. The ice tests those who enter—it freezes the weak, heart and all. Many who go in… never come out."
Northern listened intently, feeling the weight in his father's tone.
"You said before that Ice mages train there to level up," he said slowly. "What did you mean by that exactly?"
Mr. Hilton turned and gave a faint nod. "Ah, yes. To understand that, you need to know about the Six Stages of Magic. Every mage, regardless of their elemental path, must walk through these stages in order to grasp the true essence of their power."
He moved back to his desk and began to explain, his tone patient, almost like a teacher.
"The first is the Basic Stage—where one learns to awaken their mana core and manipulate the raw form of their element. Most commoners and students spend years here, learning to cast simple spells and control flow."
Northern nodded slowly, storing every word in his mind.
"The second," Mr. Hilton continued, "is the Intermediate Stage. This is when a mage begins to refine their mana into structured forms. Spells become stronger, and mana flow becomes smoother. Most academy mages remain in this stage for life. Only those with powerful bloodlines or exceptional talent can move past it."
He glanced at Northern pointedly. "Your mother was one such person. She reached the next stage before the age of twenty."
"The next stage," he said, "is the Advanced Stage. Here, the element obeys the mage instinctively. An Ice mage, for example, can freeze water in the air without chanting. The element becomes an extension of the will."
Mr. Hilton lifted a finger, the air around it shimmering faintly with frost. "But the Advanced Stage is not just about control—it's about harmony. You do not command the element; you coexist with it."
Northern's breath caught as tiny snowflakes formed in the air and danced around his father's hand before vanishing.
"The fourth stage," Mr. Hilton said, lowering his hand, "is the Spirit Stage. At this point, the mage's bond with their element becomes so strong that they can summon its spirits—manifestations of pure elemental will. Some call them familiars, others call them guardians. But they are not to be trifled with; they choose their master, not the other way around."
Northern's mind was racing. "And after that?"
"The Emperor Stage," Mr. Hilton said with quiet reverence. "Only a few in the world ever reach it. At this point, the mage becomes one with their element, drawing power directly from nature itself. An Emperor of Fire can ignite storms with a glance. An Emperor of Ice can halt time within a frozen domain. They are walking calamities, and nations bow before them."
A shiver ran down Northern's spine. "And the last one?"
"The final stage," Mr. Hilton said softly, "is the Deity Stage. It is said that those who reach it transcend the limits of mortality. They no longer rely on mana alone but on the very law of the world. Few have ever reached it—and even fewer have lived long after doing so. The power of the elements comes at a price, and not every soul is meant to bear it."
Silence filled the room for a moment, broken only by the faint crackle of the fireplace.
"So that's what the Ice Valley does," Northern murmured. "It helps Ice mages break through these barriers."
"Exactly," Mr. Hilton confirmed. "For an Ice mage at the Intermediate Stage, the valley's mana can guide them toward the Advanced Stage. But that is only if their mana root is strong enough to withstand the pressure. A weak root will shatter before it can grow. And when it shatters…" His voice trailed off meaningfully.
Northern understood. "They die."
Mr. Hilton nodded gravely. "The valley rewards those who are worthy, and consumes those who are not."
Northern was quiet for a long time, processing every word.
Then he asked softly, "Have you ever been there, Father?"
Mr. Hilton's expression darkened slightly. "Once. A long time ago, before you were born. I wasn't an Ice mage, so I couldn't go deep. But I saw enough to understand why the place should remain sealed. The frost there whispers. It calls to you—not with a voice, but with memories, regrets, and desires. If your mind isn't firm, you'll lose yourself completely."
Northern clenched his fists beneath the table. So that's the kind of danger Aria is chasing…
Mr. Hilton's tone softened again. "Why the sudden interest, Lucas? Don't tell me you've decided to play adventurer."
Northern met his father's gaze, his crimson eyes glinting faintly in the light. "No, Father. But if I'm going to change… if I'm truly going to become stronger, then I need to understand places like that. Power like that."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Mr. Hilton smiled faintly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "You've changed, son. I don't know what's gotten into you, but… maybe that's not a bad thing."
He moved toward the desk and picked up a silver key, tossing it to Northern. "That opens the training hall at the back of the estate. If you're serious about this, start there. Once I see progress, we can talk about bigger things—like the Ice Valley."
Northern caught the key, gripping it firmly. "Thank you, Father."
"Don't thank me yet," Mr. Hilton said with a hint of amusement. "You'll regret it once the instructor finds out you've skipped lessons for weeks."
Northern couldn't help but smile. "I'll take my chances."
As he turned to leave, Mr. Hilton added quietly, "And Lucas—if you truly seek power, remember this: strength without purpose is just destruction. Don't let the ice consume your heart before it tempers your will."
Northern paused at the doorway, those words echoing in his mind. "I won't forget."
When he stepped out, Mia was waiting again, her pink hair glimmering faintly under the hall light.
"You're smiling, young master," she said, tilting her head. "Did something good happen?"
"Yeah," Northern said softly, holding up the key. "Something good might be starting."