Before arriving at the mansion, Malandor had two plans.
One was to prolong Mirania’s life. No more, no less, just a year or so.
His last moments with Mirania, he had originally hoped, would be spent in the quiet of the Witch forest, listening to each other’s breathing, reminiscing about old times, and focusing on each other completely.
‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this, on a human continent devoid of bonds, the passage of time passing without savoring it, without meaning.’
Thinking about it made him infuriated again, and it took Malandor some time to calm his simmering resentment.
The other was saving Alice. This had less to do with him but was important to Mirania, so he considered it.
Malandor was going to try the red flower on Alice.
Of course, as a fairy of the Pure Nature clan, the use of the red flower could be dangerous for Alice.
It could contaminate her fairy lineage. But Malandor didn’t give a speck of dust about that.
‘Isn’t it just a matter of surviving?’
Anyway, his resolve was shattered by the sight before him, as he made plans, calmed his mind, and brought himself to the Alchemist Tower.
Growl—
With a roar of fury from Grecan, Leverianz, who was clinging to Mirania, was knocked aside.
Bam!
He was pushed so hard that the sound of his body hitting the wall was deafening.
But Leverianz was no ordinary man. Physically, he might be no match for Grecan, but he was the head of a clan.
Rising from the wreckage, Leverianz’s eyes glowed a brilliant red.
“You, you clueless bastard…”
Leverianz steadied his disheveled hair and turned to glare at Grecan, who had now blocked Mirania’s path.
Exasperated, he stood where he was.
“Lord!”
A dusty wind blew through the manor.
The bats, reacting to their leader’s wrath, flew into the mansion one after another.
The mansion that the Chancellor had provided for them was a spacious one, belonging to a fairly powerful nobleman, but it felt cramped with more than a dozen of them, each with their respective strengths.
Two of them looked as if they’d wasted twenty years of their lives and had fists instead of brains in their heads.
Mirania had a headache, like in the Witch Castle.
‘Shouldn’t I have put you through mind-control training or something, instead of brainwashing you not to attack me?’
She clicked her tongue in frustration, but she could have bet the rest of her life that it would have been useless.
Even Malandor, a mild-mannered fellow compared to them, clicked his tongue.
“What a brawl. I wonder if those bastards have shortened your lifespan, Mirania?”
Mirania and Malandor, whose combined age, including the bat warriors, would not be more than a hundred years old, shared an odd sense of camaraderie.
“Ah, stress is making me feel old.”
“I bet you are.”
“Come on, just tell me, I’ll take care of all that.”
Malandor winked impishly at Mirania as if he had some serious plans, and she swatted him away with a flick of her hand.
“Try to pretend you’re thinking beyond the scam that’s writhing beneath you, it’s making my head hurt even more.”
Mirania scowled at him, and Malandor let out an ‘Aaah!’ as he released the energy he’d been holding onto.
Then the skeletons that had been crunching beneath his feet ducked beneath the ground and disappeared.
“You’re not exactly a bloodthirsty king.”
Mirania’s expression turned sour as she watched him shrug.
Meanwhile, the atmosphere was becoming more tumultuous.
“Lord, what do you want me to do?”
“Just give us orders. I already didn’t like the way he was acting arrogantly toward the Lord. We have enough of that lowly, ignorant, abandoned wolf cub without him.”
Receiving a glare of hostility, Grecan turned to Leverianz and made a bluntly sarcastic comment.
“I didn’t realize that being chief meant having a fly that likes to talk.”
“…”
“You’ve become the chief fly.”
It was no wonder the bat warriors had become ferocious.
Leverianz sneered lightly, as if unmoved by the words.
“A chief fly is a lord. Even the strongest and largest fleas won’t be able to reach me easily.”
“…”
“We have different statuses now, Grecan. You didn’t stand a chance against me when we were one-on-one, so why not now? This is the last time you’ll be interfering in my affairs. What are you going to do?”
Leverianz’s response to Grecan’s sarcasm was equally sarcastic.
Leverianz, who had already realized that the Principple was of little use to Mirania, glinted in his eye.
‘A spoiled brat is a lost cause.’
Watching, Mirania could feel the air heating up as Grecan and Leverianz glared at each other. It made her skin crawl.
She needed to cool off.
Snap!
With the snap of a finger, the surrounding air instantly freshened. The water vapor floating in the air had shifted.
The displaced water vapor clumped and coalesced into cold water, which flew to the hottest spot.
Swoosh!
A torrent of water rained down on the heads of the ferociously snarling Grecan and Leverianz.
Their movements, drenched in the chill of midwinter lake water, hardened into statuesque stillness.
Boiling anger cooled to a crisp, crackling rage.
Water splashed as Grecan struck the paddle to Leverianz.
“Lord!”
“That’s enough.”
Leverianz wiped a hand across his wet face in irritation. He pulled his long hair together and squeezed it, water dripping off.
Under Leverianz’s piercing glare, the bat warriors were horrified at the sight, but they did as they were ordered and retreated from the mansion.
The mansion’s tranquil air had returned to its original calm. Even if the floor was still wet from the splash.
“I could have gotten a good view.”
Malandor muttered, regretting Mirania’s intervention.
“I told you not to exert yourself. I don’t know how much time we have left, but the more you push yourself, the more your body…”
“You’re making a big deal out of this.”
Mirania, who had given Malandor a frown, wondered if she had made a good choice in revealing that she had only a short time to live.
Malandor’s words were met with tearful glances from Grecan and Leverianz.
“…”
“…”
Seeing the two beaten to a pulp, even the dull Mirania looked away in embarrassment, shaking her head and feeling sick to her stomach.
Only then did she notice the two men, momentarily forgotten in the commotion.
The blindfolded man writhing on the floor and the cowering, drooling man recognized as Landes, the second-ranked wizard of the Magic Tower on the Second Continent, and the Master of the Alchemist’s Tower, a renowned scholar.
“Who are they?”
Grecan looked up helplessly.
His face was soaked with spittle and disfigured by the spots on his eye patch, but he was the second strongest of the mages.
“It will help save Mirania.”
A joyful smile appeared on Grecan’s face.
But the smile was short-lived, lasting less than thirty minutes.
Before arriving at the mansion, Malandor had two plans.
One was to prolong Mirania’s life. No more, no less, just a year or so.
His last moments with Mirania, he had originally hoped, would be spent in the quiet of the Witch forest, listening to each other’s breathing, reminiscing about old times, and focusing on each other completely.
‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this, on a human continent devoid of bonds, the passage of time passing without savoring it, without meaning.’
Thinking about it made him infuriated again, and it took Malandor some time to calm his simmering resentment.
The other was saving Alice. This had less to do with him but was important to Mirania, so he considered it.
Malandor was going to try the red flower on Alice.
Of course, as a fairy of the Pure Nature clan, the use of the red flower could be dangerous for Alice.
It could contaminate her fairy lineage. But Malandor didn’t give a speck of dust about that.
‘Isn’t it just a matter of surviving?’
Anyway, his resolve was shattered by the sight before him, as he made plans, calmed his mind, and brought himself to the Alchemist Tower.
Growl—
With a roar of fury from Grecan, Leverianz, who was clinging to Mirania, was knocked aside.
Bam!
He was pushed so hard that the sound of his body hitting the wall was deafening.
But Leverianz was no ordinary man. Physically, he might be no match for Grecan, but he was the head of a clan.
Rising from the wreckage, Leverianz’s eyes glowed a brilliant red.
“You, you clueless bastard…”
Leverianz steadied his disheveled hair and turned to glare at Grecan, who had now blocked Mirania’s path.
Exasperated, he stood where he was.
“Lord!”
A dusty wind blew through the manor.
The bats, reacting to their leader’s wrath, flew into the mansion one after another.
The mansion that the Chancellor had provided for them was a spacious one, belonging to a fairly powerful nobleman, but it felt cramped with more than a dozen of them, each with their respective strengths.
Two of them looked as if they’d wasted twenty years of their lives and had fists instead of brains in their heads.
Mirania had a headache, like in the Witch Castle.
‘Shouldn’t I have put you through mind-control training or something, instead of brainwashing you not to attack me?’
She clicked her tongue in frustration, but she could have bet the rest of her life that it would have been useless.
Even Malandor, a mild-mannered fellow compared to them, clicked his tongue.
“What a brawl. I wonder if those bastards have shortened your lifespan, Mirania?”
Mirania and Malandor, whose combined age, including the bat warriors, would not be more than a hundred years old, shared an odd sense of camaraderie.
“Ah, stress is making me feel old.”
“I bet you are.”
“Come on, just tell me, I’ll take care of all that.”
Malandor winked impishly at Mirania as if he had some serious plans, and she swatted him away with a flick of her hand.
“Try to pretend you’re thinking beyond the scam that’s writhing beneath you, it’s making my head hurt even more.”
Mirania scowled at him, and Malandor let out an ‘Aaah!’ as he released the energy he’d been holding onto.
Then the skeletons that had been crunching beneath his feet ducked beneath the ground and disappeared.
“You’re not exactly a bloodthirsty king.”
Mirania’s expression turned sour as she watched him shrug.
Meanwhile, the atmosphere was becoming more tumultuous.
“Lord, what do you want me to do?”
“Just give us orders. I already didn’t like the way he was acting arrogantly toward the Lord. We have enough of that lowly, ignorant, abandoned wolf cub without him.”
Receiving a glare of hostility, Grecan turned to Leverianz and made a bluntly sarcastic comment.
“I didn’t realize that being chief meant having a fly that likes to talk.”
“…”
“You’ve become the chief fly.”
It was no wonder the bat warriors had become ferocious.
Leverianz sneered lightly, as if unmoved by the words.
“A chief fly is a lord. Even the strongest and largest fleas won’t be able to reach me easily.”
“…”
“We have different statuses now, Grecan. You didn’t stand a chance against me when we were one-on-one, so why not now? This is the last time you’ll be interfering in my affairs. What are you going to do?”
Leverianz’s response to Grecan’s sarcasm was equally sarcastic.
Leverianz, who had already realized that the Principple was of little use to Mirania, glinted in his eye.
‘A spoiled brat is a lost cause.’
Watching, Mirania could feel the air heating up as Grecan and Leverianz glared at each other. It made her skin crawl.
She needed to cool off.
Snap!
With the snap of a finger, the surrounding air instantly freshened. The water vapor floating in the air had shifted.
The displaced water vapor clumped and coalesced into cold water, which flew to the hottest spot.
Swoosh!
A torrent of water rained down on the heads of the ferociously snarling Grecan and Leverianz.
Their movements, drenched in the chill of midwinter lake water, hardened into statuesque stillness.
Boiling anger cooled to a crisp, crackling rage.
Water splashed as Grecan struck the paddle to Leverianz.
“Lord!”
“That’s enough.”
Leverianz wiped a hand across his wet face in irritation. He pulled his long hair together and squeezed it, water dripping off.
Under Leverianz’s piercing glare, the bat warriors were horrified at the sight, but they did as they were ordered and retreated from the mansion.
The mansion’s tranquil air had returned to its original calm. Even if the floor was still wet from the splash.
“I could have gotten a good view.”
Malandor muttered, regretting Mirania’s intervention.
“I told you not to exert yourself. I don’t know how much time we have left, but the more you push yourself, the more your body…”
“You’re making a big deal out of this.”
Mirania, who had given Malandor a frown, wondered if she had made a good choice in revealing that she had only a short time to live.
Malandor’s words were met with tearful glances from Grecan and Leverianz.
“…”
“…”
Seeing the two beaten to a pulp, even the dull Mirania looked away in embarrassment, shaking her head and feeling sick to her stomach.
Only then did she notice the two men, momentarily forgotten in the commotion.
The blindfolded man writhing on the floor and the cowering, drooling man recognized as Landes, the second-ranked wizard of the Magic Tower on the Second Continent, and the Master of the Alchemist’s Tower, a renowned scholar.
“Who are they?”
Grecan looked up helplessly.
His face was soaked with spittle and disfigured by the spots on his eye patch, but he was the second strongest of the mages.
“It will help save Mirania.”
A joyful smile appeared on Grecan’s face.
But the smile was short-lived, lasting less than thirty minutes.
