Chapter 17
“I’m sorry. The young lady said she wanted to see Lady Ceres before heading home…”
“All right. Please come in.”
Once Yulia’s health had recovered to some extent, Ceres enrolled her in an academy.
Although Yulia was clever enough to have taught herself to read, she needed proper education.
Typically, noble families would hire private tutors, but the Drow Barony could not afford such a luxury.
Fortunately, there was an academy in the capital that educated young children. It was an institution run directly by the royal family, so the costs were relatively low.
After joining the academy, Yulia often visited the shop to see Ceres after her classes.
“Lady Yulia, are you hungry?”
“I’m hungry.”
“Please wait just a moment.”
She nodded.
Thanks to this, the small chair Mark had prepared specifically for Yulia had recently been seeing a lot of use.
Settling into her seat, Yulia swung her legs back and forth as she curiously observed the shop.
“Hey! You son of a—”
Wide-eyed stare.
“…Hey, friend. Isn’t that my food?”
“What are you talking about, you little—”
Wide-eyed stare.
“…I mean, don’t say such nonsense. This is clearly what I ordered.”
“Haha, oh, is that so?”
“Haha!”
Whenever Yulia appeared, the coarse language that usually filled the shop would vanish like magic.
Even those on the verge of snapping would swallow their words when they met Yulia’s innocent, round eyes.
“Yulia?”
As the mercenaries quietly buried their faces in their stew bowls, someone entered the shop, breaking the silence.
“Sister.”
Ceres, even before stepping through the entrance, had already guessed the reason for the unusually calm atmosphere.
Seeing Yulia happily eating a piece of cake Mark had prepared, Ceres let out a silent sigh.
“I told you not to come here.”
“Why?”
“It’s dangerous.”
“Why is it dangerous?”
“Look closely.”
Ceres gestured toward the mercenaries eating their meals.
“Do those people look nice to you?”
Cough!
Suddenly, embarrassed coughs broke out among the mercenaries.
‘Hey! Cover your face! If she sees your ugly mug, she’ll cry.’
‘You cover yours first, idiot!’
As more mercenaries buried their faces deeper into their bowls, Yulia nodded earnestly.
“They smile at me every time they see me.”
“……”
“They’re nice.”
Ceres turned to look at the mercenaries, her narrowed eyes sharp and questioning.
Under her scrutiny, awkward smiles spread across their faces.
Some of them had even been the ones who caused trouble on Ceres’s first day at the shop.
At least they feel embarrassed.
“Even so, don’t come here anymore.”
“……”
“Answer me.”
“Okay.”
Watching Yulia nod, Ceres let out another short sigh.
She’s always quick to agree.
But she had a feeling the little girl would show up again tomorrow.
She’s surprisingly stubborn for her size.
“Sister, say ‘ah.’”
Yulia held up a spoonful of cake, offering it to Ceres. The sight made Ceres chuckle despite herself.
Fine, I’ll let it slide because you’re cute.
***
“Find it… Please find it… Sniff.”
The Magic Tower—an institution that countless magicians aspired to join and where only the most accomplished resided.
At the very top floor of the tower, in the Tower Master’s chamber.
The room, flooded with sunlight from a large window, was impeccably organized—except for one disheveled presence.
“Sniff… The ice magic stone… Please find it.”
Long, wine-colored hair cascaded down to the floor, sweeping across it like a broom as the man crawled around, whining and sobbing despite the absence of actual tears.
Luca, his secretary, watched the spectacle with an impassive face before speaking.
“Lord Chaian, wouldn’t it be better to stop cleaning the floor and wrap this up?”
“No! I’ll keep doing this until you find the magic stone!”
“I’m sure the cleaning staff will appreciate your dedication.”
The man throwing a tantrum while kicking his legs was none other than Chaian de Devrica, the Tower Master of the Magic Tower.
Chaian de Devrica, despite being a prince of the Devrica Empire, left the royal palace at a young age to pursue magic and became affiliated with the Magic Tower.
By his early teens, he was already adept at manipulating mana with ease, drawing the attention of many. At just twelve years old, he earned the title of “Guardian of Mana,” a distinction given to the most exceptional magicians. Two years ago, at the age of twenty, he ascended to the position of Tower Master.
This was made possible by the Magic Tower’s tradition of appointing the Tower Master solely based on skill, regardless of age or experience.
“My magic stone…”
Knock knock.
Click.
“Here are the documents you requested.”
“Sniff.”
“Please leave them over there.”
“…The cold emanating from it… Sniff… My magic stone…”
“All right then, take care.”
Even as Chaian whined pitifully, people continuously entered and left the Tower Master’s room.
Some came to drop off documents, others to clean or organize.
Yet no one paid any attention to the Tower Master crawling on the floor.
Everyone avoided meeting his gaze and left as quickly as possible.
Some even used soundproofing magic on their ears to avoid hearing his voice while they worked.
“We’re already looking into it, so please wait a little longer.”
If I don’t give him something to work with, he’ll stay like this all day.
Luca, Chaian’s secretary, sighed deeply and approached the Tower Master, who was now wailing loudly. He poked Chaian’s side with a stack of papers, urging him to move away from the middle of the floor where someone might trip over him.
Though Luca had tried to roll him toward the wall to keep him out of the way, Chaian’s lamentations echoed through the Magic Tower, giving everyone a headache.
“News should arrive soon.”
“How soon? How much longer?”
Lying sprawled on the floor, Chaian raised his head slightly, his eyes glistening with hope.
“Very soon.”
“And when is ‘soon’?”
“Shortly.”
“And when is ‘shortly’?”
“……”
Deciding further conversation was futile, Luca hauled Chaian up from the floor. Dusting off his back and quickly tidying his disheveled hair, Luca sighed again.
“Lord Aserian will be arriving shortly.”
“When will my magic stone arrive?”
“……”
As Luca glanced at Chaian, who had now personified the magic stone, he chose to remain silent.
“Sniff.”
Chaian flopped back onto the floor with a dramatic sniffle, nullifying all of Luca’s efforts to straighten him up.
“What’s wrong with him now?”
“You’ve arrived.”
A familiar voice cut through the chaos.
Recognizing the newcomer, Luca bowed respectfully.
Aserian de Devrica.
The crown prince of the Devrica Empire and elder brother to Chaian, the Tower Master.
“My magic stone…”
“Magic stone? That brat lost a magic stone?”
Aserian tilted his head in confusion.
Whatever extraordinary stone it was, if he’d lost it, couldn’t he just buy another one? Why was he making such a fuss?
“He watched a video recently, and now he’s like this.”
“A video? What video?”
“A novice magician recently joined the Tower and uploaded a video. While visiting a magic shop in the city, they discovered an intriguing magic stone and recorded it with a Recording Orb.”
“And?”
Why not just buy it if he’s that obsessed?
“The stone was something someone brought to sell at the shop. However, the seller decided not to sell it and left.”
After watching that video, Chaian had been acting like this ever since—skipping meals and sleep, endlessly replaying the video.
“Sniff, my blue gem…”
“He named it? It’s not even his, and he gave it a name?”
“This isn’t the first time. It’s best to let him be.”
Aserian narrowed his eyes at his brother, who was whining over something he didn’t even own, now named as if it were his possession.
While this wasn’t the first time Chaian had behaved this way…
“So, it’s not an ordinary magic stone?”
“No, it’s an ice attribute magic stone.”
“Ice attribute…”
That explained Chaian’s reaction.
Ice attribute magic stones had become nearly impossible to find in the empire.
They had occasionally circulated in the past, but at some point, they became exceedingly rare.
“It’s all because of that damned frozen duke!”
Chaian suddenly sat up, yelling in frustration.
“When is that guy going to stop isolating the northern region?”
“No idea.”
“Sniff, ice attribute materials only come from there!”
Damn Duke of Persia!
The ruler of the north had sealed off the region for 300 years, cutting off the flow of ice attribute materials that used to trickle into the markets.
“At least he’s doing his job.”
Aserian’s lips curled into a faint smile.
“He takes care of the Black Forest whenever it appears. At least he’s not slacking off like some people.”
Flinch.
Chaian, who had been venting his frustrations, slowly slinked toward a corner, clearly trying to escape Aserian’s gaze.
“Did you hear about the Black Forest that formed just outside the capital?”
“I-I don’t think I heard about that…”
“It was reported to you last week at 10:30 AM.”
—
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