Episode 02
Three months before the subjugation of the Dream Demon.
“Lady Enya, you’re going, right? You’re going, right. You’re going, right? Yes? Yes?”
Laila, the chief mage of the Morgenda Magic Tower, clung to Enya as her cherry blossom–colored hair swayed. Enya staggered helplessly as the much smaller girl shook her around. The research journal she had been reading had long since slipped from her grasp.
“Why don’t you go? I’m not going.”
“What do you mean?! If the Tower Master doesn’t go, how am I supposed to attend as an affiliated mage? Huh?!”
Far from the outskirts of the capital, deep within a dense forest unaffiliated with any territory, stood the Morgenda Magic Tower. There was a reason Laila, a mage belonging to such a secluded place, was making such a fuss.
A banquet was soon to be held at the Imperial Palace to celebrate the victory of the Holy Knight who had defeated the Demon King—Helios Defert.
The empire’s frontiers had long been guarded by incarnations scattered across the land, but the western incarnation had been absent for centuries. Left without a rightful master, the region had been abandoned for ages.
As a result, the vast triple-walled west had no official name—only bleak titles like “The Forsaken Land” and “The Broken Wasteland.”
Then, one day, the Demon King appeared in the west.
Monsters surged across the continent, and with the unguarded west left exposed, the Holy Knight Helios Defert set out to war.
Prophets, nobles, even priests all agreed on one thing:
“He will die.”
But Helios returned—alive, carrying the Demon King’s head.
Naturally, the imperial family would host a grand victory banquet in his honor.
Though he had abandoned the imperial surname to become a Holy Knight, Helios still carried royal blood. The banquet was certain to be magnificent, drawing nobles, clergy, and mages from across the empire.
But the emperor—who lived nearly at odds with the temple—would never allow his son to remain merely a Holy Knight.
In other words—
“The banquet hall may lack drawn swords… but it will be no different from a battlefield.”
Given the circumstances, Enya—who had long secluded herself in the Magic Tower—found the entire affair nothing but troublesome.
“I’ll approve it. I’ll even grant you proxy authority, so go in my place.”
“Oh, come on! Proxy attendance isn’t allowed. The Tower Master has to be there to enter the Imperial Palace!”
“Then do you want to be the Tower Master?”
“Does that even make sense?! The tower chooses its master—how could I possibly—!”
Enya Valencia, the Master of Morgenda’s Magic Tower, pinched one eye shut as if nursing a headache.
“Laila, even if you go, it’ll just be a bunch of half-witted nobles snapping at each other like wolves. It won’t be fun. It’ll be boring.”
“That’s exactly why you need to go! Our tower barely has any connections! How long are we going to keep making ‘elixirs’ for nobles?”
They called them elixirs, but in truth—
They were erectile dysfunction drugs.
Among noblemen, many suffered from psychological burdens imposed by strict family traditions, making such remedies surprisingly profitable. While Enya didn’t particularly mind what they were, it felt awkward to say it outright when Laila’s sparkling eyes insisted on calling them “elixirs.”
Still, connections… if we’re talking about connections—
“I do have connections. I’m close with the Crown Prince.”
“That’s not ‘close.’ You’re just his tool.”
…No rebuttal there.
The Crown Prince funded her research into those very “elixirs,” so in that regard, tool wasn’t entirely inaccurate.
As Enya let out a small groan, Laila pressed even harder.
“Lady Enya! What if you work yourself to death selling erectile drugs forever? What happens to me then? I’ll be an orphan!”
“What kind of orphan is twenty years old?”
“LADY ENYAAA! Please! Who said anything about contracts with nobles? Let’s just reel in a few decent ones—use them like dogs to make elixirs or expand our clientele! Social gatherings are the perfect fishing grounds for both dogs and customers!”
Enya scratched her head.
Even if she attended the banquet, her already poor reputation wouldn’t suddenly grant her power. And even if it did—
She had no desire to treat nobles like dogs.
“Still, connections… huh.”
“…The Crown Prince himself invited you. Are you really not going?”
At last, Laila played her final card.
The Crown Prince—Ögedei.
His unusual name aside, invitations from him were nothing new. And when refused, he sometimes came personally.
But even Enya knew there were limits to how often she could turn him down.
‘Even if he’s insane… he’s still the Crown Prince.’
She had little interest in Helios, the banquet’s main figure and the Crown Prince’s half-brother.
Well, surely he must be as impressive as his reputation suggested.
He bore the title Radiant, had abandoned his royal name, slain the Demon King, and even revived the ruined west. His political ability must be remarkable. His relationship with Ögedei was said to be strong—altogether, the kind of heroic figure one might find in a stage play.
But Enya was not the sort to gush:
“It’s an honor to live in the same era as you.”
How tiresome.
No matter how much support Helios had, the old nobility would never welcome such a rising force.
And Enya had no intention of getting caught in the inevitable political strife.
Still, Laila rarely insisted this much.
“…I don’t really want to take just you.”
“Hasan won’t go anyway. He’s holed up writing again.”
Hasan, another mage under Enya, barely practiced magic at all—he spent his time writing instead. Apparently his novels sold well, though Enya had no interest in literature.
Unlike Hasan, Laila often grew lonely. Having spent nearly her entire life in the tower, it was only natural.
After a long sigh, Enya finally raised both hands in surrender.
“…Prepare the carriage—”
“Yes! Lady Enya, you’re the best!”
“…Starting today. Otherwise, we won’t make it in time.”
“What’s the rush? It lasts four days anyway!”
Enya sighed softly, patted Laila’s head, and picked up her journal. As she turned away, Laila’s bright red eyes gleamed with a hint of cunning.
‘Lady Enya is far too soft.’
In truth, Laila didn’t mind life in the tower.
She went out often for work, and as long as she was with Enya, she didn’t care where she was.
She simply wanted Enya to step outside—to meet people.
After five years of near-total isolation, Enya’s pale skin and perpetually darkened eyes from lack of sleep worried her.
‘It’d be nice if she even fell in love while she’s at it.’
Hiding her scheming thoughts behind a bright smile, Laila clung to the doorway.
“I’ll start preparing right away! And you need to wear your nicest outfit. Hasan can handle your hair.”
“You’re that excited?”
Enya leaned back in her chair, speaking casually.
She was a Tower Master in name only—a nobody in a forgotten corner.
Who would even pay her any attention?
‘I’ll just greet the Crown Prince and slip out.’
Life wasn’t short—but it wasn’t long either.
And she had no desire to invite trouble anymore.
Enya Valencia let out a deep sigh as she gazed at the moonlit garden.
She had deliberately entered the banquet late—but a servant, already exhausted, had loudly announced:
“The Master of Morgenda Tower—Lord Valencia has arrived!”
Her plan to quietly blend into a corner had been utterly ruined.
Unable to endure the chaotic atmosphere, she fled to the garden outside.
Letting down her carefully styled hair, she looked around for somewhere to sit.
At least she had grabbed a drink on the way out.
Otherwise, she might have died of frustration.
‘I want to sit. No—I want to lie down.’
Even the weight of others’ gazes drained her.
Spotting a long bench behind a fountain, she hurried over and practically collapsed onto it.
Taking a deep breath, the distant sounds of the banquet softened into whispers. The chirping of insects tickled her ears. The full moon hung bright above, its light mingling beautifully with the garden’s lamps. The grass rustled softly in the breeze.
As expected of the Imperial Palace—
Even the night was beautiful.
If only peace could last forever.
She took a sip of whiskey, using the scenery as her drinking companion. A sharp lemon scent filled her nose, followed by a harsh bitterness that burned down her throat.
She coughed violently.
“Ugh—this is cheap.”
Despite all the fine liquor available, she had somehow chosen this one.
Brilliant.
As she muttered to herself, she sensed someone approaching from behind the fountain.
Raising her eyes slightly, she observed the unfamiliar silhouette.
The figure stepped forward, and the fountain’s light revealed him.
Golden hair gleamed under the illumination, like bold strokes on a masterpiece. Beneath it, green eyes—deep and sharp, like midsummer foliage. His tall frame was perfectly proportioned, and the single pauldron on his right shoulder suited him impeccably.
A flawless man.
As if another light had appeared—
A star… no, a sun fallen into the night.
Even Enya, who rarely cared about appearances, found herself momentarily stunned.
‘Laila would like him.’
When their eyes met, the man showed a flicker of surprise—and clear exhaustion.
Enya immediately understood.
He had fled here too.
Kindred spirits.
Turning her head deliberately to avoid giving him attention, she spoke:
“If you go east from here, there’s a maze-like garden. If you want to rest, go there. I was here first.”
She didn’t look back, unwilling to even let her gaze be mistaken for interest.
Time passed.
She soon forgot about him, lost in her thoughts—wondering idly if Hasan might get arrested someday for writing about forbidden affairs between noblewomen and knights.
Just as her thoughts deepened—
A soft laugh sounded right beside her.
“May I have a drink as well?”
His voice was smooth enough to catch in her throat—yet deep enough to resonate through her body.
Even compared to the emperor’s rough, low voice, this one was refined.
It wasn’t even a fair comparison.
