It wasn’t the blue halo filling the warehouse that was beautiful—it was the eyes gazing at that halo in a daze.
Chamuka, amidst the mesmerizing light, focused solely on those eyes.

Between golden lashes, the eyelids blinked slowly, opening and closing. Those eyes didn’t glance at Chamuka even once, seemingly unaware of his very presence.

For the first time in a long while, he felt anxious.

Perhaps it was even the first time in his life. As far as Chamuka could remember, he had never felt this rushed or uneasy.

He didn’t even know what was making him anxious or why he felt so restless. He only knew that the halo bothered him. And so did those eyes, so absorbed in the light that they didn’t turn to him.

Though there was no need for such feelings.

That golden-eyed prince was a magician, just like his mother.

In this moment, in this place, Chamuka wasn’t foolish enough not to notice that, even while watching the scene unfold before him.

So, he should have been pleased.

That prince, who had been dragged here as a hostage, naively liked Basilinte and wanted to dedicate himself to it. As a magician, he would be even more useful, with countless ways to be exploited.

Just as his mother had brought rain and created forests for his father, this prince could do the same for him. Chamuka should have calculated how advantageous that would be.

And yet, Chamuka felt not just anxious but resentful.

He was too young, too inexperienced to articulate that resentment, which frustrated him even more.

Because the truth was, it didn’t matter if that prince wasn’t a magician. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had remained the beggar eating dirt that Chamuka had first met.

He had never thought of him as something useful, so there was no need for him to be useful now.

If anything, being useful might mean he wouldn’t belong entirely to Chamuka.

That prince had been brought to Basilinte at a cost and would one day be his inheritance.

“Useful or not, he’s mine either way.”

Chamuka, instead of dwelling on this fleeting thought, banged loudly on the warehouse door as if he had just arrived.

“Look this way.”

Thud.

“Look at me.”

Thud.

The prince, entranced by the halo, turned his head toward Chamuka. Slowly, focus returned to his dazed eyes.

When the prince’s eyes widened upon seeing him, Chamuka finally felt a rush of calm. The emotions that had arisen so impulsively were wiped away.

“Lord Chamuka…?”

The prince slipped out of Astrid’s arms and ran toward Chamuka.

Watching this, Chamuka felt an odd sensation. He didn’t know what to call it, exactly.

“Are you hurt? Your hand is bleeding!”

Blood had seeped through the bandage wrapped around Chamuka’s palm.

The prince, holding Chamuka’s hand, turned to Astrid.
“Lady Astrid, Lord Chamuka’s hand is…”

“I told you to draw three drops of blood, not to injure your hand like this.”

Astrid, who had approached at some point, frowned as she looked at Chamuka’s hand.

Even the fingers without bandages bore small cuts, appearing to have been grazed by something sharp.

“Tan bit me.”

“That child? How?”

“He was lying on the bed like he had no strength to move. When I approached, he suddenly got annoyed and bit me.”

Astrid pressed her fingers to her forehead, as if she had expected this.

She had sent Chamuka to care for Tan, thinking they might develop some camaraderie. After all, Tan wouldn’t have been in a great mood after Astrid’s experiment kept him up all night.

But camaraderie? Nonsense. Such a thing was impossible in Basilinte.

Chamuka’s injuries were undoubtedly from trying to draw blood as Astrid had instructed, even after being bitten once.

“If he bit you, you should’ve just left him. Why did you…”

“Because it was something you ordered me to do, Mother.”

“You take after Ferik in how you follow instructions while driving me up the wall.”

Astrid shook her head and gave him a warning.
“Don’t do that next time. If you think you’ll get hurt, just stay away. And let go of the baby’s hand.”

At Astrid’s words, Leticia released Chamuka’s hand, which she had been holding.

Chamuka’s gaze followed Leticia’s hand as it slipped away.

“Shouldn’t I keep holding it?”

“I’m worried about continuing to use you for experiments after seeing you get bitten. Go bring your father instead.”

Ferik could get bitten for all she cared. Astrid added this cheerfully as she scrubbed her disciple’s hand.

She barely touched the edge of the blood-stained bandage, but did she really need to go that far?

Chamuka quietly watched Leticia’s small hand flinch at Astrid’s touch before asking, “So, will Father be holding that hand now?”

“What kind of experiment is this, Mother?”

“It’s an experiment on multi-linking magic circuits and individually controlling the transfer authority of a magic transmitter.”

“…?”

“….”

Leticia thought it sounded like a magic spell, while Chamuka silently endured Astrid’s typically unkind explanation, the first he’d heard in five years.

Born a genius and raised in the Magic Tower, Astrid had married a man who remembered every word she ever said.

Ferik, being that man, even read academic papers that other magicians couldn’t fully understand, simply because Astrid had written them. Ordinary people, of course, were not like that.

In other words, Astrid has no concept of what ordinary people consider common knowledge.

“Don’t understand? Oh, my stupid son… You should be grateful for your face.”

Though it didn’t sound like a compliment, by Astrid’s standards, it was.

She patted Chamuka on the shoulder.
“It’s fine. If you’re not smart, your body suffers, but fortunately, everyone in Basilinte is born with a sturdy body.”

“….”

“I mean, I’d really like to dissect you. Isn’t it absurd how inhumanly strong you all are? Even without using aura like knights, Ferik can crush opponents as if they were clay.”

Astrid’s muttering led to a final conclusion.
“If you die first, I’ll definitely dissect you.”

Chamuka thought it was a very Astrid-like statement, but the prince seemed to think otherwise.

Pale-faced, the prince cautiously tried to change the subject.
“Well, um, I don’t understand the experiment Lady Astrid mentioned either.”

“You’re supposed to call me ‘teacher,’ baby. And you haven’t learned it yet, so how could you know?”

Astrid gently stroked the prince’s head.

Chamuka, who had been thinking it would be nice if she stopped, spoke quietly.
“…I haven’t learned it either.”

“At ten years old, you should know that much. When I was ten, I submitted a thesis on elemental conversion at the Magic Tower’s regular symposium.”

With that, Astrid hugged the prince tightly and said.
“Oh, but my baby will reach that level in just five years. Maybe even sooner!”

“I… I’m ten years old too…”

“Hmm?”

Chamuka, noticing Astrid covered in dust from rolling around the warehouse, disliked how close she was to the prince.

This was a reasonable feeling. Children shouldn’t touch dirty things.

“ The hostage prince, Sion Herta, was determined to be eight years old. They likely selected a prince within that age range, so he’s not five. And…”

Pulling on Leticia’s small hand, which Astrid had just scrubbed clean, he added.
“You’re getting dust on him, Mother. Don’t hug him.”

“Don’t touch the baby, Chamuka.”

“You shouldn’t be clinging to him either, Mother. It’s bad for him.”

At some point, Chamuka had unconsciously started calling Leticia “baby,” a habit picked up from Astrid.

The so-called “baby” in question was now suffering from extreme embarrassment.