Episode 575
“Going outside is strictly prohibited.”

That was the first rule Crony laid down upon learning that Ian was a magic wielder. His gaze was subtly cold, carrying an unspoken warning that no objections would be entertained.

Ian looked up at him quietly, while Crony paced the room restlessly, clearly displeased.

“Furthermore, contact with the servants will be restricted. Uncle Ian, I must stress again: under no circumstances are you to reveal that power in front of others.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Can you tell me why? Just to make sure you truly grasp it.”

Ian answered in a flat tone—words Crony had repeated dozens of times before.

“Because I’m from a noble family. Most mages come from commoner backgrounds. If they find out I have this power, I won’t be allowed to stay in the mansion.”

“Exactly. You’re a smart man, Uncle. I’m sure you can keep it hidden. Hmph. How could such a thing even happen…”

Crony muttered under his breath, and Ian flinched. How could someone with royal blood inherit abilities usually found only among commoners? At this point, he felt as if his deceased parents’ early deaths were his fault, and that simply being alive was a sin.

As Ian quietly wiped away tears, Crony knelt down to meet his gaze.

“Uncle.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry. I will protect you. I won’t let you be pushed into the slums of commoners. So trust me, and just live your life as before. Understood?”

“…I understand.”

Crony gave Ian a light embrace, and Ian wiped away the last of his tears in his arms. It was impossible to tell what expression he wore beneath it all.

“I’ll also reduce your lessons to a minimum.”

“Is that really okay?”

Ian was afraid he’d fall behind if he cut back on training, especially since he was already lacking. Crony patted his back reassuringly.

“Yes. Instead, I will personally teach you. Fencing and horseback riding. That way, you’ll release your frustration and won’t be bored.”

Clang! Clang!

From that day on, Ian devoted most of his time to sword training with Crony. His skills improved rapidly, and Crony often laughed aloud, while Ian felt truly alive.

Their private world continued like this until one day.

“By the way, Crony, what happened to the servant who saw my magic?”

“You don’t need to worry about that. Now, shall we try again? Grab your sword.”

“We’ve been at this for five hours today.”

“Your birthday is coming up soon, isn’t it? If you beat me, I’ll grant you one wish.”

A wish.

Ian thought for a moment, then nodded and gripped his sword tighter. How many years had it been since he’d been outside the mansion? This year’s harvest festival was supposed to be grand, and he wanted to see it.

“Anything?”

“Of course.”

Swish! Swish!

Ian swung his sword fiercely and lunged at Crony. At just fifteen years old, he was still a boy, but Crony met his blade with ease.

No matter how hard Ian tried, that was as far as he could go. Crony believed Ian could never beat him. Even if blessed by the gods, he was still just a child—an ignorant child who trembled at his words.

Shing! Clang!

But that was arrogance beyond mere confidence. Crony gradually realized he was struggling. Ian’s sword moved unpredictably, almost as if it were alive. Though it was a wooden sword, Crony felt a chilling fear that it could cut his throat at any moment.

Thud.

Crony’s sword flew away, and Ian’s blade stopped just at the nape of his neck. Ian, catching his breath, slowly smiled with joy.

“Crony!”

Look at me—I’ve grown this much.

Ian expected praise to follow. Surely Crony would say how well he’d done, how impressive his skills were, and maybe even invite him to the palace.

But…

“Hah.”

Crony let out an irritated sigh and frowned. Had he done something wrong? Ian, still panting, shrank back.

“You’re remarkable, Uncle Ian.”

“Um, Crony…”

“I suppose I must grant your wish. Speak.”

Crony snapped his fingers, brushing off his coat with a gesture full of displeasure.

Ian couldn’t understand what had upset him. But an opportunity was an opportunity. Carefully, Ian spoke.

“I heard the harvest festival is coming soon. I’d like to go.”

“A festival… very well. But only for three hours. The commercial district is the main area, so that should be enough time to look around. You’ll have an escort, and absolutely no contact with outsiders.”

“…Understood.”

Three hours. Too short, but a sweet outing nonetheless. Ian wanted to thank him and ask if he was really okay, but Crony turned sharply and left the training ground.

From that moment on, Crony’s behavior grew sharper, harsher.

“Welcome! To celebrate the harvest festival, beer is on the house! Come on in!”

“Step right up! Spin the wheel! The grand prize is a meal voucher worth one silver coin! Only one copper coin to try your luck!”

“Hey, isn’t this a scam? Let me try.”

“Hey now, don’t touch it if you’re not playing. If you’re not interested, move along.”

“Hahaha! The bands are battling it out on the street!”

“Dance! Dance! Woo!”

Laughter and music filled the air, people danced through the streets, and the scents of unfamiliar foods wafted everywhere. Ian was overwhelmed by the festival’s energy.

Though he wore a robe and was followed by guards, no one paid him much attention—they were all too busy enjoying themselves.

As he wandered through the alleys, suddenly—

“A parade of mages!”

At someone’s shout, Ian’s head turned automatically.

The scattered crowd quickly surged together, forming a dense mass, and Ian was swept toward the street.

“My lord!”

“Damn!”

The guards caught up quickly, but the swelling crowd kept pushing them further apart. Ian gestured toward the clock tower, signaling not to worry.

“Wow! A mage!”

If anyone saw his true identity, it would be over. Ian hurried to move away.

But then—

A shadow loomed overhead.

“Ah.”

They were flying.

The mages floated freely through the sky, trailing sparkling petals like a shimmering afterglow.

Everyone reached out their hands, and the mages responded by scattering even more flower petals.

It was truly, truly beautiful.

Tears welled in Ian’s eyes.

“So this is what a mage is.”

Though born of lowly blood, they were closer to the gods than anyone else.

Suddenly, Ian wondered if it might be okay to leave Crony’s mansion. If he could fly like them, perform miracles…

Swish.

He reached out his hand like everyone else, instinctively summoning a small spark of magic at his fingertips.

For a moment, Crony’s warnings flashed through his mind, and he flinched—but then relaxed. Surely the bright flower petals would hide it. I’m just like them…

Snap!

“…!”

Amid the countless outstretched hands, one mage sensed Ian’s presence through a sixth sense and grabbed his hand.

His neatly tied brown hair flowed like waves. His brown eyes locked onto Ian’s.

They stared at each other in surprise.

“You’re a magic wielder?”

Naum Obia.

The first touch from the heavens in Ian’s life.

“Magic wielder?”

“Oh! Hey, kid! Is it really you?”

“Let me hold your hand! Good heavens, what a blessing! The gods haven’t abandoned Bariel after all. Maybe this emperor will last longer.”

“Hey! Watch your tongue! Mind your words!”

“So what? It’s our festival anyway. No one’s listening.”

“Hey? Where are you going? Wait!”

Ian shook off Naum’s hand and started running. A whirlwind of emotions overwhelmed him—joy at being recognized, fear of being exposed, and somehow a strange sense of relief all mixed together, making his head spin.

“Excuse me—”

“Hello! Would you like some juice?”

Ian, who had been standing there lost in thought, spoke to a woman sitting at a stall. She greeted him warmly, holding up a wooden cup. Ian handed over a coin and asked,

“Tell me, what do you think when you hear ‘noble-born mage’?”

“Huh? Suddenly? What do you mean?”

“I mean, if a noble—someone close to the royal family—is a mage, what would you think?”

“Hmm. Let me see.”

The woman thought for a moment, then smiled brightly.

“Isn’t that a blessing from the empire? A noble with such precious power—how dearly the gods must love them. I envy you!”

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Hmm? Nothing. The customer asked a strange question—what do you think of noble-born mages?”

“Ha! What a funny thought. What can I say? They’re probably second only to His Majesty the Emperor. Honestly, the palace these days isn’t what it used to be, so…”

“Oh, shush! Don’t spoil the good day.”

“Alright, alright. Just saying.”

The couple casually poured the drinks, but Ian couldn’t bring himself to accept one. It felt as if the sky had collapsed, as if every moment of his life until now had been invalidated.

Chronie had clearly called him cursed, yet others claimed he was a living blessing.

Ian just nodded slightly and walked toward the clock tower. In the distance, he could see the guards waiting for him.

“Master Ian!”

“Are you alright? We were worried because you were late.”

“Sorry. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure you want to head back now? There’s still time.”

“No. I’m going in. I need to see Chronie.”

Sensing the serious mood, the guards quickly brought the carriage. Even as they entered Chronie’s estate, Ian kept his gaze fixed out the window, silent. He rehearsed what he would say when he met him.

“Chronie. I’ve been found out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I ran into a mage on the street, and they realized I’m one of them.”

Ian confessed calmly, watching Chronie’s reaction closely. Would he be worried? Disappointed?

“Ian!”

Boom!

What Chronie showed was unmistakable anger. He shook his finger at Ian, trembling with fury, and the more he raged, the colder Ian’s mind became.

“I told you to be careful! You’re so stupid and reckless! Do you want to die? How do you plan to fix this mess now?”

“Chronie.”

Ian called his name softly, meeting his gaze steadily. The pale blue eyes that marked his royal lineage flickered fiercely.

“Why did you lie to me?”

“…Lie?”

“That’s enough. I don’t know what’s true anymore. I want to see it with my own eyes. I want to experience it myself.”

“What do you mean, Uncle Ian?”

“I don’t want to hide anymore.”

Whether it meant joining the Mage Department or falling into the slums, it no longer mattered. The mage he’d met outside was so beautiful, so wondrous.

Click.

Instead of answering, Chronie lit a cigarette.

Is the time finally coming? The palace was in turmoil, the scales of power shifting restlessly under their own weight.

What if Ian entered the Mage Department now? Though young, his noble blood would shine brightly as a mage, and that light would reflect on his guardian as well.

“It seems there’s been a misunderstanding, Uncle. Everything I did was for you. Do you want to join the Mage Department? The palace is always a storm of blood and strife. You’re too young to understand the misfortunes you might face there.”

“……”

“But if you truly want to go, then yes. I’ll prepare for it. Just know this—if it weren’t for me, you’d already be at the mercy of the filthy outside world, stripped of your pride as both a noble and a mage.”

Chronie exhaled smoke and smiled kindly—the same smile Ian had seen almost his entire life.

“You’ll see once you’re out there. You’ll be grateful to me.”

Half a year later.

At the perfect moment Chronie had chosen, Ian entered the palace for the first time. And there, he was greeted by a whole new world—

“You’re a blessing to the empire. The first noble mage! It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Naum Obia. Please, just call me Naum.”

Naum Obia.

He raised one eyebrow and smiled, as if glad to see him again.