Party Preparations
After receiving the party invitation from Sylvia, I'd looked into all sorts of details about it. Apparently, it was an annual event commemorating the victory in the Demon King War. Over three hundred years old now—a tradition with real history behind it. To mark the occasion, the imperial villa was being temporarily opened. The location was the outskirts of the capital, where the armistice declaration from the Demon King War had been read aloud.
"So that's why they kept sending invitations every year?"
For hundreds of years, I'd turned down every imperial invite, and the letters had dwindled to almost nothing. But one had persisted right up to the end—this very party invitation. Of course, my involvement in the Demon King War was a secret... Even leaving that out, I was the creator of the five heroes' wands. From that angle, it made sense.
Now that I had the basics, it was time to prepare. My own prep wasn't tough—just throw on the professor's uniform and go. The real issue was elsewhere: who would play the role of Olivia?
"At first, I figured I'd handle it solo, one-person two-roles style..."
But that was easier said than done. Olivia could just throw on a cloak to hide her identity... but if I vanished and Olivia popped up right after, it'd look suspicious as hell. No way around it. A clone spell? I could cast one, but it'd be obvious to anyone with eyes. Plus, controlling it took my full focus—useless in a situation like this.
Hire someone? No one trustworthy enough for a body double. Fortunately, I had a backup plan. A magic doll.
The loyal kid who'd guarded my shop for the past seven hundred years.
"Sylvia, help me out here."
"Huh?"
"Gonna make a fake Olivia. Curious what image people have of me."
I brought Sylvia back to my shop. Eight p.m. was closing time. Unlocking the door revealed a girl diligently sorting wands. Long aqua-blue hair was her standout feature—the magic doll Luna. Her golden eyes turned to me.
"Welcome back, Mistress."
If not for that signature emotionless tone, you could mistake her for human. The ball joints were completely hidden under her clothes, making her look utterly lifelike.
"Luna, I've got a job for you."
"For... me?"
"Yeah."
Luna, mid-sort, tilted her head in confusion. In seven hundred years, I'd never asked her to do anything beyond shop management.
"Come here a sec."
I led her to the back—to my workshop. Too risky inside the shop where someone might peek. The room, empty for over two weeks, was spotless. Luna had kept it up in my absence.
I sat her in a chair and got to the point.
"There's a party at the imperial villa in two days. Go in my place."
"I was made for wand management. My magic, build, voice—all different from yours. Is that okay?"
"Yep. No one knows what wand crafter Olivia looks like anyway. She's never shown her face to the public. In the last five hundred years, fewer than thirty people have seen me for real? Sylvia and the five wand wielders, plus some high generals from the Demon King War."
Three hundred years had passed since the war, with records of me mostly erased. Safe to say no one remembered my face.
"Plus, I don't wanna ruin the mysterious vibe. I'll just drape you in a cloak with perception inhibition magic."
"Then voice alteration should suffice."
"Exactly."
I glanced at Sylvia as I replied.
"That's why I brought Sylvia."
Olivia was me, but I barely knew my own public image after centuries as a shut-in. Sylvia, who'd taught students her whole life, would know the details I needed.
"So, what kind of voice? Old grandma?"
I drew my revolver wand from my pocket. The pistol-grip handle fit snugly in my palm as I envisioned the voice-change spell's structure. Sylvia's answer came.
"Hmm... an elderly grandmother?"
"Figured as much."
Elves rarely ventured into the human world anyway. Their detached nature kept their numbers under five hundred worldwide—no real drive to reproduce. They only had kids when extinction loomed, all carefree and thoughtless. No way someone like that would mingle with humans.
Known active elves in human society? Sylvia included, you could count them on one hand. Assuming Olivia was a longevity-spell-using human crone made perfect sense.
"Makes sense they never suspected me."
Me, hovering protectively over the Olive Wand wielder, reacting sharply to wand talk. Sylvia, super close to the wand crafter, but no one batted an eye. On the surface, I looked like a late-teens, early-twenties girl. The gap between the imagined Olivia and my appearance was too vast. Despite all the red flags, no one connected the dots.
How many would believe a pointy-eared elf-human hybrid had lived a thousand years? Zero. Hell, almost no one even knew hybrids existed.
"Sigh, kinda sad though. A thousand years is still young for an elf."
I muttered under my breath, aiming the revolver's barrel at Luna. Past-life memories made this feel weirdly off. Pulling the trigger brought a flash of white light instead of a bang.
"Ah, a-ah... This feels awfully strange."
Luna tested her voice a few times, her face twisting oddly. A girl who looked late-twenties speaking in a grandma's rasp? Major dissonance.
I draped the cloak over her. At 155 cm—designed to match my height—my clothes fit perfectly.
"Good."
Luna pulled up the hood, activating the perception block. Unless you yanked it off yourself, no way to tell who was inside. No one would dare force it off Olivia anyway—and Sylvia would be right there.
One thing left...
"Luna, hunch over a bit?"
A slight stoop, and she was the perfect old lady. Sylvia could vouch for ID. Done.
"Now say something random. 'Ahem... Is this right, young one?'"
"Ahem... Is this right, young one?"
"Perfect."
Magic dolls were like humanoid AIs—quick learners. Prep complete. Suddenly, I was looking forward to three days from now.
On the continent, the Empire Emperor's authority was absolute. A unified nation for a thousand years. Victor of the Demon King War. Strongest power around. Behind the emperor stood a millennium of history and amassed might.
Even the Eastern Union Kingdom rarely refused an imperial invitation. Except for one.
The veiled wand crafter Olivia was the exception.
About six hundred years ago, it started as thanks for the Wall Jujube Wand. No one expected a reply from her invites anymore.
Maybe that's why.
The Empire's high society buzzed when Olivia accepted for the first time.
Heirs from various factions got busy too.
Win her favor, recruit a wand wielder easy. Sideline that professor Ria too.
Second Prince Askleon saw opportunity in the letter.
The Eastern Union siblings saw crisis.
Saintess Clara saw destiny.
And the black mages who'd scorched the continent three centuries ago? They saw opportunity.
The Empire wasn't what it used to be. No nation lasted a millennium uncorrupted. The Empire was no exception. Its upper echelons were riddled with black mage pawns—lured by "eternal life" or stuffed with bribes.
Elite troops tied up north against monsters. Top mages drafted for colonial wars. Scraping the barrel for border strongholds against the Eastern Union.
Three fronts, massive war costs—a corrupt, inept state had no bandwidth to hunt black mages.
They'd grown bold.
"Time to teach the blind Empire their error."
No matter how the palace denied his revival, facts were facts.
This time, unlike the Demon King War. Inept Empire. Hungry Eastern Union. Crumbling Nordenburk.
Announce his revival amid the victory celebration. Spreading fear and chaos—their feast.
"Notify all insiders. Time to proclaim His return to the world."
Black mage leader Aaron issued the raid command.