Chapter 199

“Weren’t you cold?”

The pond had been created fairly recently.

While digging a tunnel, Ihan had accidentally broken through underground bedrock, revealing a spring of groundwater pure enough to be drinkable.

Thanks to this, Ihan no longer needed to buy water. However, the groundwater was unbelievably cold.

Calling it ice-cold didn’t do it justice—it was so frigid that fruits submerged in it would freeze solid.

Truly, the mysterious land of Pendragon refused to settle for anything ordinary.

Even its groundwater rejected mediocrity.

It was a natural water source and a freezer all in one, which is why...

“I never expected anyone to actually get in it.”

“Hehe, well, I am a mage specializing in water and wind magic, you know? I created a warm air barrier around myself and stayed in there. See? All dry and cozy.”

“…Impressive.”

“Any mage could probably do it, though.”

“Doubt it.”

At least, Ihan couldn’t recall any of the spellcasters he had fought—many of whom had bragged about being “masters of water”—being able to pull off something like that.

One of them had even declared, “I am the ruler of water!” yet still couldn’t fight underwater.

‘Either that guy was all talk, or this kid’s talent is insane.’

Ihan clicked his tongue.

Truly...

‘This is what a waste of talent looks like.’

Watching a girl with such extraordinary abilities use them for something as trivial as stealth filming was both baffling and pitiful.

‘What is she planning to do with footage of someone like me?’

Even though he had given her permission, Ihan still couldn’t understand her motives.

The stealth filmer—or rather, the girl conducting her legal, authorized filming—was none other than Irene Windler.

Despite her casual demeanor, she was the treasured heir of the most powerful family in the southern continent, if not the entire kingdom.

Irene Windler.

Rumor had it she would become an Archmage by her mid-twenties.

Even as an adopted child, the duke’s family saw her as a potential successor to Galahad’s legacy.

She was someone who could achieve anything or obtain anything she wanted in the kingdom.

Yet this girl...

“Instructor, would you believe me if I said the duke’s biological daughter might show up at this entrance exam?”

“…?”

Ihan, baffled by the nonsense, stared blankly at her.

“Are you here for counseling? Mental health counseling, perhaps?”

What should he do? He didn’t know any psychiatrists.

For a brief moment, he seriously considered whether divine powers could heal mental health issues.

“I’m not crazy, Instructor!”

Irene protested with an unwavering gaze, as if trying to prove her sanity.

“Well, I guess if I heard something like that, I’d think it was nonsense too. But Instructor, I swear I’ve never lied, and I’m only telling you the truth.”

“…Hmm.”

“On mana itself—”

“Stop, you little chick.”

“Huh!”

Ihan quickly silenced her.

Swearing on was an absolute vow for mages. It was akin to the Styx oath from Greek mythology—a promise that could never be broken.

Breaking such an oath would cause the mage’s mana to rampage within their body, tearing them apart from the inside out.

Kids these days had no sense of fear.

“You don’t need to do that. I’ll believe you, so don’t do anything stupid. I don’t like resorting to violence against women.”

“Y-yes, sir...”

With her cheeks slightly flushed, Irene obediently complied.

Had his hand been that warm?

“Hehe, your hands are so big. I kind of want to take them with me...”

“...”

Swish.

What was he supposed to make of that statement?

Did she mean she wanted to take his hands—literally?

…Feeling that Irene’s affection was a bit more twisted than normal, Ihan quietly hid his hands behind his back.

…Honestly, it was a little scary.

*****

"Instructor, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but the Duke once had a wife… though she has long since passed away."

It was something Ihan had heard before.

"Tragically, it’s said that she left behind a child when she died. And I happen to know, purely by chance, that the child is still alive..."

It’s you.

"And there’s a chance that the Duke’s supposedly deceased daughter might appear!"

It’s you.

"Haa..."

Ihan let out a deep sigh.

Was this what it felt like to be a thief who couldn’t call someone “father,” even when they were?

He felt a little guilty watching his student trembling with nervous excitement, as though she were revealing an earth-shattering secret. In truth, there wasn’t anyone in the kingdom who understood the relationship between Duke Blake and Irene Windler better than Ihan.

He hadn’t actively tried to uncover it, but through sheer happenstance, he had come to learn that the two were father and daughter.

The “resonance of their energy” and the “unique scent” passed through their shared bloodline were unmistakably identical.

But this knowledge was something only Ihan’s acute senses could detect. There was no logical or scientific method to prove it.

‘Even if I told them they were father and daughter and begged them to have a tearful reunion, they wouldn’t believe me.’

This world had no DNA tests.

While magic might be able to identify bloodlines, no such spell had yet been developed...

...at least not officially.

‘The royal family seems to have some kind of method, though.’

Earlier this year, Princess Raphael had asked him to keep an eye on two individuals.

She had mentioned that Irene Windler might be the Duke’s biological child.

But could her statement have been mere speculation?

No, Ihan knew better. Princess Raphael wasn’t the type to speak on pure conjecture.

That nine-tailed fox of a princess must have had some degree of certainty to request his surveillance.

For instance...

‘She might have already invented a bloodline detection kit or something.’

This was the same person who had succeeded in creating mythical elixirs like Ambrosia. It wouldn’t surprise Ihan if she had developed such a tool on a whim.

However, there was one problem.

‘Even if she knew, she wouldn’t share it willingly.’

Ihan was certain of this.

The princess wouldn’t help that father and daughter reconcile.

As long as the Duke and Irene posed a political threat to her position, she would never lend a hand.

‘What a frustrating situation...’

This wasn’t something Ihan could meddle in freely.

He had ties to all three parties involved, and for now, his relationship with the princess was closer.

So...

"That’s quite the surprising and serious story."

"You’re surprised too, right, Instructor?"

Ihan feigned an appropriately serious reaction, pretending as though he were hearing it for the first time.

He felt a pang of guilt but knew he couldn’t afford to involve himself in this political power struggle.

‘Better not get tangled up in this mess.’

Otherwise, it would only make his life more difficult.

"Haa, you probably think my story sounds like nonsense, and you’re wondering how an orphaned mage like me could know such a thing."

"No, I understand."

"I thought you’d say that—wait, what did you say?"

"I said I believe you."

"..."

"So stop making excuses and get to the point, Irene Windler. What is it you actually want to tell me?"

"..."

That much, at least, he would do for her.

While he couldn’t get involved in their family matters, he could still offer her guidance.

"Instructor..."

"...Ahem."

Seeing Irene’s emotional expression made Ihan feel a little guilty again.

Irene Windler was overwhelmed with emotion.

She couldn’t believe he actually believed her outrageous story!

‘As expected, our instructor is the best! Hehe.’

[‘Our foolish little Arin...’]

‘Shut up! Whatever you say, the instructor is the best!’

[‘Well, I won’t argue with that.’]

The ghost nodded in agreement. Even the spirit had doubted whether Ihan would believe Irene.

Or perhaps...

[‘Did he already know?’]

‘Huh? What did you say?’

[‘Oh, nothing.’]

‘??’

[‘Focus on the instructor. Don’t get distracted by me; you’ll look weird.’]

‘Oh, right!’

Irene quickly returned her attention to Ihan, chattering away as if pouring out all the pent-up frustrations she had kept hidden until now.

Meanwhile, the ghost, who shared Irene’s fate, alternated her gaze between the two with a meaningful expression.

[‘Arin, do you still see this world as some kind of romantic fantasy manga?’]

The spirit couldn’t help but feel sorry for the girl, who still viewed this world as a fictional one.

A girl who longed to return to her "original world."

A girl who still thought of herself as the high school senior, Lee Arin, rather than Irene Windler.

[‘Do you miss it that much?’]

There was a trace of sorrow in the ghost’s voice as she turned her gaze to the knight Irene admired.

[‘Please, Instructor, take care of Arin.’]

In place of a powerless spirit like herself.

"Should the Duke’s biological daughter show up, I have no idea what would happen to me. So... Instructor, could you, uh, maybe take me in?"

No one could outdo her foolishness.

[‘Haah.’]

The ghost sighed and shook her head.

Both the Duke and Irene...

[‘Why don’t they just talk to each other?’]

Was this what all parent-child relationships were like?

The ghost could only feel exasperated.

*****

‘What a frustrating relationship.’

After listening to Irene Windler’s concerns, Ihan shook his head.

‘Neither of them talks properly.’

The Duke, deep down, suspected Irene was his biological daughter, but his doubts were fueled by concerns that she might be a ploy by fanatics. On the other hand, Irene was utterly convinced she wasn’t the Duke’s daughter, as if certain the real daughter was someone else entirely.

‘The Duke’s biological daughter might appear among the applicants, huh? This is straight out of...’

One of those classic romance fantasy clichés.

During his time as a noncommissioned officer, Ihan had come across more than enough of these stories to last a lifetime. The common trope: the girl thought to be the Duke’s daughter turns out not to be, while the true daughter was actually living in poverty all along.

‘Utterly classic.’

Still, the case of Irene and Duke Blake had its own variation on the theme, which was what made it unique.

And whenever a variation like this appeared...

‘The story tends to drag on forever.’

As a “reader” who knew these patterns all too well, Ihan couldn’t help but feel a sense of irritation.

And as someone who despised drawn-out stories...

‘An unavoidable accident during the entrance exam could make for a decent twist, right?’

He decided to upend the entire narrative.