Chapter 1.2

The mages of the Imperial Second Knight Order were divided into three groups: combat mages, healing mages, and research mages. The mages gathered in this tavern were research mages, often nicknamed the ghosts of the knight order. Their workplace was the magic research lab located on the third floor of the knight order’s building.  

Earlier that day, a loud scream had erupted from the research lab of Division 3. It was Peter, a young mage half-crazed with the obsession of creating new spells, who had let out the yell. He greeted the mages who rushed to him with open arms.  

“…I’ve created a new magic circle!”  

“Explain!”  

One of the mages hurriedly approached Peter and shouted.  

“A spell that makes someone fall in love!”  

A cold silence descended upon the corner of the research lab.  

“…What should we do with him?”  

“Instead of doing the work you’re supposed to, you’re always up to something useless.”  

A female mage and a male mage both held their heads in their hands as if exhausted. The previously excited mages began to let out deflated sighs.  

“Hey, what kind of era do you think we live in? Using that kind of magic is a crime, a crime.”  

“I-I know that too. It’s not like I made it to use it for real. Really. I just got curious while flipping through an old book… Ah, and if you look at the book, it’s categorized as a harmless prank spell!”  

Peter stammered as he spoke. He explained how a short formula recorded in an ancient magic book, co-written by a married mage couple, had captured his interest. He added that he had taken their loosely written notes and added his own expertise to create a new magic circle.  

“If you activate the magic circle with a strand of the target’s hair and a piece of their clothing… and say the name of something or someone you want them to fall in love with, that’s it!”  

Peter glanced nervously at his seniors as he explained. No matter how they reacted, he seemed proud of having completed the magic circle.  

“Hair and clothing? That’s so old-fashioned.”  

“Was it made about two hundred years ago?”  

“Yeah, good job. Now clean it up quickly.”  

“You wrote it down somewhere, right? Burn it or hide it. If the Commander sees that, you’re done for.”  

Hearing the mages’ words, Peter swallowed hard.  

“Our great Imperial Knight Order’s mages waste taxes like this too, huh. Why is it that this kind of creativity and enthusiasm never shows up when it’s actually needed? Does anyone know why? …That’s what he’ll say.”  

“…”  

“…”  

“Hey… I thought he was here for a second. That was spot on.”  

After that, the mages burst into hollow laughter. At that moment, Erina, who usually never missed out on conversations like this, noticed the magic circle drawn beneath Peter’s feet. Perhaps because it was related to love, the magic circle seemed unusually beautiful to her.  

“You don’t die from being under the spell, right?”  

Erina asked Peter.  

“Ah, Senior, what kind of scary thing are you saying… Of course not. There’s no need to worry about side effects.”  

“They only fall in love, right?”  

“Of course. And I’m the one casting it, you know. I may look like this, but I graduated at the top of my class at the academy.”  

“What was it they said about bragging?”  

“The quickest way to end up alone.”  

At Erina’s words, Peter replied in a small voice. What happened next? The conversation fizzled out with everyone agreeing to destroy all records of the love spell before Sylvester could see them.  

But now, suddenly bringing up that spell during a drinking party? Peter was flustered, unable to figure out Erina’s intentions.  

“You’re not seriously… suggesting this, are you?”  

Peter asked the mages seated at the same table. His voice was so small it wouldn’t have reached the ears of the Research Division 2 mages sitting right behind them.  

“How long does the love spell last? Surely not forever?”  

“Even a Grand Mage who’s lived for five hundred years couldn’t trap someone in love for their entire life.”  

“Then?”  

“About two weeks…?”  

“Hmm. That’s not bad. Any other details?”  

“Once the two weeks pass and the spell breaks… the target, or rather the victim, won’t remember anything that happened during that time… And neither will anyone else. It’s written in the book that pranks should end as pranks.”  

A brief silence fell over the table.  

“Anyone else? So, does that mean we won’t remember either?”  

“Yes. Even if the memories don’t completely disappear, they’ll fade. The only one who retains the full memory is the caster—me. Oh, and whatever the Marquis ends up falling in love with won’t be forgotten either. According to the book, anyway. So… just in case, even if it’s a joke, don’t make him fall in love with a person. It’d be a disaster if rumors spread.”  

Peter muttered in a small voice.  

“Erina! Peter! If you like someone, you should try to win their heart properly instead of thinking about using magic. Besides, the love only lasts two weeks. It’s meaningless, meaningless.”  

A middle-aged female mage, Chel, who had just woken up from her drowsiness, spoke.  

“No, we’re not planning to use it… Mage, you didn’t hear me earlier because you were sleeping, right? I want to use Peter’s spell on him.”  

Erina spoke with a serious expression. When she got drunk, everything about her—from her voice to her breath to even a single strand of her eyebrows—became serious.  

A long, heavy silence descended upon the table. At this moment, even the impassioned singing of Arun, the head of Research Division 1, didn’t reach the ears of the Research Division 3 mages.  

But as time passed, a strange atmosphere began to settle over the silence. Like people who had just heard a fascinating rumor, the mages’ eyes began to sparkle. It was all because of the alcohol.  

“This is too much, even for a joke. What about whoever ends up being the object of his love? What did they do to deserve that?”  

Chel clung to her last shred of reason and spoke.  

“I told you. Don’t make him fall in love with a person.”  

Peter quickly added.  

“Then, are you saying you’ll make him fall in love with something else?”  

“Yes. Whatever the target is, the spell can make him fall in love with it. It’s just a prank spell, after all.”  

“…Would it be possible to make him fall in love with the statue in the central square?”  

Rondo, a mage known for speaking so rarely that his voice was almost unfamiliar, asked. His words brought the Research Division 3 table back into silence. In that silence, Peter nodded. Soon, the mages began to stir.  

“What about making him fall in love with the sword he always carries around? They’re so alike. It’s ridiculously beautiful but also ridiculously annoying… Oh my. They’d be a perfect match.”  

Shubi, the youngest mage after Peter, muttered.  

“…What about a sewer rat?”  

“Ugh, that’s a bit much.”  

“But the rats in the Empire are well-fed, plump, and cute, aren’t they? Their fur is shiny too. Even if he remembers, he wouldn’t spread rumors about that.”  

Erina suggested.  

“Or, we could wait until winter. When it snows, we could make a snowman and cast the spell on it. He’d hug the cold snowman and cry, ‘Don’t melt! Don’t leave me!’”  

Jella, the mage with the lowest alcohol tolerance, said with a laugh. The mages, imagining the beautiful man with platinum blonde hair—often compared to the sands of the Illusion Desert—clinging to a statue, his sword, a sewer rat, or a snowman and sobbing, burst into laughter. Their laughter was tinged with the smell of alcohol and malice.  

“…Thinking that he’ll come back to his senses in two weeks makes it seem okay.”  

Barson, the most senior member of Research Division 3, added. He, too, had low alcohol tolerance.  

“We won’t even remember it clearly anyway.”  

No, most of Research Division 3 had low alcohol tolerance.  

“Right. This is our chance to strike back. Even if the memory of our revenge isn’t vivid, it’s still something.”  

Erina whispered, swinging her fist into the air.  

“What if it fails?”  

“It won’t fail.”  

Peter, unwilling to associate failure with his magic, murmured quietly.  

“So, shall we do it?”  

Leaning in close, Erina asked the mages. Before they could answer, she continued.  

“Come on, don’t you all want to see it? That insufferable man, who seems untouchable, flailing around because he’s fallen in love?”  

The mages couldn’t help but nod at Erina’s determined face. Once again, it was because of the alcohol.  

Having already been swayed by Erina’s proposal, the mages began to offer their own suggestions one by one. Once they had made up their minds, there was no stopping them. The mages decided the object of Marquis Velarc Sylvester Amadeus’s affection through a random draw. The small piece of paper Peter pulled out contained the name of the subject of the giant statue in the central square—Arvid Empire’s second Emperor.  

“What time is it now?”  

One of the mages rubbed their eyes and asked. Squinting, Peter looked out the window. Night had passed, and dawn was breaking with a bluish light. It had been an unbearably long drinking session.  

“It’s probably around six in the morning.”  

Hearing Peter’s words, Erina looked around. Half the people at the table were sprawled out, the other half were dozing, and some had already left after gauging the atmosphere.  

“If we go now, we won’t get caught.”  

With a half-dazed Erina leading the way, the mages who followed her out of the tavern walked quickly, though somewhat unsteadily, toward the magic research lab.