Chapter : 09
The potatoes I grew were naturally high in starch, and their moisture level was just right for making potato pancakes. If I added extra starch here, the pancakes would turn dry and crumbly.
I placed a large pot lid on the stove, poured oil over it, and used a ladle to scoop up an appropriate amount of potatoes.
Sizzle—
The sound of potatoes frying in oil rang out.
I quickly spread the potato mixture thin with the ladle. Potatoes turn reddish over time and lose their flavor, so the key was to spread them thin and cook them as fast as possible.
When the bottom turned golden brown, I flipped the pancake over. Another sizzle followed, and a delicious aroma filled the air.
Yes… this smell.
I sniffed deeply. Once the other side was golden as well, I transferred the pancake to a large plate. I tore off a big piece with a fork and walked over to Killian, who was diligently grating potatoes.
“Try a bite of this.”
Steam rose from the pancake as he took a huge bite in one go. After chewing a few times, his eyes widened.
“It’s incredibly good!”
“Right? Salty and chewy, isn’t it?”
“And nutty, too! What is this food? It looks like a pancake.”
“It’s called a potato pancake—something they eat on rainy days in the Eastern Continent.”
“So this is what they eat there.”
Technically, it’s Korea…
He stuffed the rest of the pancake into his mouth and chewed happily, then started grating potatoes with even more enthusiasm.
As expected—once someone tastes potato pancakes, they grate potatoes harder.
Seeing him forget his status as crown prince and throw himself into the work was oddly cute.
No—what am I thinking?!
I shook off the blasphemous thought and focused on frying the pancakes.
Potato pancakes are best eaten right off the pan.
I called the others over.
I fried, Killian grated, and everyone else ate enthusiastically. The savory smell of potato pancakes spread throughout the house.
Ah… I really want some makgeolli.
I was missing the cool chestnut makgeolli from old pancake shops—
Thud—
There was a loud crashing sound outside.
And then—
Click.
The doorknob turned, the door slid open, and a man who looked like a zombie—covered head to toe in dust—crawled inside.
“Good smell… hungry……”
What is it this time?
Why are you here now?
The person greedily stuffing potato pancakes into his mouth, dust and all, was none other than the Mage Tower Master.
How did I know?
Those bright red eyes, that purple hair—and the clothes and accessories dripping with jewels.
Isn’t this the guy who’s supposed to be experimenting on zombies and making a cure? Why is he here?
That’s right.
In the original story, while the Saintess was out saving people and beating back zombies, the Mage Tower Master stayed locked up in his tower researching them.
In the end, he created a cure and distributed it to the public, helping lead the story to a happy ending. He was one of the key characters.
But—
Why the hell is this bastard here?
I had no idea why suspicious people kept showing up at my precious shelter.
The others couldn’t bring themselves to kick out the Mage Tower Master, who was grabbing pancakes with his bare hands. They just stared at him with their mouths hanging open.
Honestly, even I wouldn’t dare stop someone eating like that—it was scary.
Then Eric spoke up cautiously.
“Um……”
“…Yeah? What?”
“Who are you?”
“Me?”
Yes. You.
How did you even get into the fortress?
The Mage Tower Master shoved the last remaining pancake into his mouth straight from the plate, then smiled brightly.
“Noah.”
“Who are you, and how did you get in here?!”
Leila finally came to her senses and jumped to her feet. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to grab the dust-covered man.
Stretching lazily, the Mage Tower Master said,
“I messed up an experiment and fell here. But what’s this? It’s really good.”
Count Clark shrank back, stammering in fear.
“An… experiment?!”
“I’m asking what this is.”
He had already wandered closer, eyes fixed on the pancake I was cooking.
“Potato pancake.”
I answered as calmly as possible.
I was scared too—but this lunatic got scarier the moment he realized you were afraid of him. So I had to act unfazed.
“Potato pancake? What’s that?”
“Something eaten in the Eastern Continent.”
“But—”
The Mage Tower Master’s pupils narrowed, his gaze sharpening as if probing me.
“You’re not surprised to see me. You must know who I am?”
A pressure flowed from him, as if he were trying to crush me with an invisible force—mana. It felt like he was about to hypnotize me just to figure out who I really was.
I—I can’t breathe!
“Mage Tower Master. Stop.”
Killian, still holding the grater, stepped in front of me protectively. The oppressive pressure vanished, and the Mage Tower Master smiled thinly.
“Your Highness. Long time no see. Why are you here?”
“That’s what I should be asking.”
“No. You’re supposed to be defending the capital. Did you abandon your people and run away?”
Struck at a sore spot, Killian flinched. But the Mage Tower Master didn’t seem to care, merely shrugging.
“So what? There are too many humans anyway. It’s fine if some die.”
“Mage Tower Master!”
“That’s not wrong, is it? I was bored, but then these new undead showed up, so I caught a few to study. I’m glad they appeared.”
“Glad?! People are dying! How can you say that?!”
“Why so serious? It’s fascinating—it’s something new. And did you know, Your Highness? Those things you call ‘undead’ weren’t summoned by necromancers using voodoo.”
“They weren’t summoned…?”
The crown prince staggered, hit by revelation after revelation. The Mage Tower Master clapped happily.
“Yep! They’re not undead, Your Highness. Not even magical beasts. So what are they, then? Hm? Hm?”
“…….”
Then his bright red eyes locked onto mine. The playful gleam in them sharpened with interest.
“You… you know something, don’t you? About what they really are.”
Killian wrapped an arm around my shoulders and answered in my place.
“She’s a prophet.”
“A prooopheeeet?”
The Mage Tower Master burst into laughter, bending over at the waist. The sight was eerie enough to send chills down my spine.
Wiping tears from his eyes, he silently mouthed words only I could see.
Liar.
A shiver ran down my back.
He continued casually,
“Interesting. A prophet, huh? That sounds more fun than researching those undead.”
“Mage Tower Master, when you say ‘fun’—”
“And the food’s good, too. Do you have a room? I’ll live here.”
“No!”
Leila shouted and rushed at him. She must’ve noticed how uncomfortable I was—she’d been my childhood friend, after all.
“Get out!”
“…How annoying.”
With a lazy twist of his finger, Leila froze mid-step, as if time itself had stopped.
“Leila!”
“My daughter!”
“Stop!”
Count Clark, his wife, and I rushed to her.
Holding Leila tightly, I shouted at the Mage Tower Master,
“Undo this right now!”
His eyes sparkled with interest.
“So she’s your weakness.”
My one and only friend—Leila.
I snarled at him,
“Stop talking nonsense and release her!”
“Then can I live here?”
The Mage Tower Master.
He possessed overwhelming power—possibly even more than the crown prince, who was already a Sword Master.
If someone like him insisted on staying, there was nothing I could do. I forced myself to nod.
“Fine. So release her. Or else—”
“Or else?”
He spun his finger teasingly, smiling.
“I’ll rip your throat out.”
At that, he smiled brightly—an expression that didn’t suit him at all.
“Hm, nice. I like it when people rip my throat out.”
I muttered loudly enough for him to hear,
“Crazy bastard.”
“Thanks for noticing. And it’s even better since you said you’d do it.”
Snap.
He snapped his fingers, and Leila began to move again. Looking dazed, she asked the people holding her,
“What happened?”
Countess Clark stroked her daughter’s hair with tears in her eyes. I forced a smile at Leila.
“It’s nothing. We’re just letting him live here too.”
“What?! No way! He’s creepy!”
“I think he’ll be helpful around the farm.”
Leila tried to reason with me anxiously.
“There’s no way, Vanessa. He’s weird and scary.”
“He’s the Mage Tower Master. We’ll probably need magic later on…”
“But still……”
The Mage Tower Master listened to our conversation with interest. It felt like if he got bored, he could kill Leila at any moment.
Because I’d clearly been added to his list of interests.
In the original novel, once the Saintess caught his interest, she suffered endlessly.
He gave her trials on his own whim and tormented her with magic just to see her reactions. In short, the Mage Tower Master was the number-one person you were supposed to avoid.
And yet… I’m already on his radar.
Worse, he now knew Leila was my weakness. Who knew what he might do to her just to see my reaction?
Damn bastard.
They say if you can’t avoid it, enjoy it.
I’d always avoided trouble as long as I could in my old job—but now that I’d crossed paths with him, there was no escape.
I’ll do things my way!
Go on. Do your worst.
Since I was already an “experiment subject,” I decided to treat him like I didn’t care at all. He was basically just an overgrown middle-school boy, anyway.
Extinguishing the hearth fire with a single finger, the Mage Tower Master asked,
“What’s your name?”
“…Vanessa.”
“Vanessa. Pretty name—just like your face.”
End Of Chapter : 09
