The Genius Mage's Secret Arrangement
Lumia Aster was a genius. Her talent as a mage was unparalleled. Though she was an orphan, even among the mages gathered in the Tower, she had been hailed as the brightest star in her youth.
Her mana reserves dwarfed those of her peers. Her command of spells was so profound that even the Tower's elderly mages could only gasp in admiration.
She grasped theories with astonishing speed, and any complex magical formation she saw once, she understood its structure completely. Talent from the heavens, one might say. A title that fit her perfectly.
However, as she grew older, Lumia gradually lost the Tower's expectations. There was only one reason for it. She could not maintain her composure. Mages must always keep their minds steady when casting spells.
Mana was a sensitive energy that responded to the caster's mental state. When the mind was shaken, the spell formulas would waver. If the formulas wavered, the incantation would collapse, and the mana would scatter into the void.
Lumia had a fatal flaw in exactly that area. She would scream at the sight of a rat. Her body would freeze the moment a bug passed by. Her hands would tremble when she saw blood.
Hearing a human scream would turn her mind white. She had tried countless times to fix the problem. She had closed her eyes and endured. She had whipped herself internally to overcome her fear.
She had forced herself to look at blood, and had even tried to face rats and bugs head-on. But it was useless.
No matter how she struggled, the instant her eyes landed on blood or a rat's corpse, a scream would burst out uncontrollably.
In real battle, it was even worse. Just watching soldiers fight would shatter Lumia's composure in an instant. Of course, she couldn't cast spells.
The only stigma that followed her was this: a defective mage. Talented, yet useless. Brilliant in theory, but unable to stand on the battlefield. Possessing vast mana yet lacking calm, she was incomplete as a mage. A defective product. A failure. A fallen genius. The excess talent bestowed upon a worthless piece of trash. Those words had trailed behind Lumia like a shadow.
The mages of the Tower were individualistic by nature, yet they harbored a viciously narrow-minded side as well. They secretly rejoiced at the fall of a genius who possessed talent beyond their own.
Eventually, Lumia was sent to the Northern Front. The Tower dispatched her under the pretense of support personnel. But in reality, it was little different from abandonment.
The mages on the Northern Front did not regard her as a core force either. Her theoretical knowledge and spell-form analysis were excellent. She was faster and more precise than anyone at checking defensive lines and repairing disrupted formations.
But the moment combat began, she became a useless mage. That was the evaluation given to Lumia on the Northern Front.
* * *
North Wall, one section. A place where mages gathered to inspect the defensive lines.
“Kya! Aaaaah!”
A sharp scream tore from Lumia's throat. Then, as she staggered backward, she fell flat on her rear with a thud and landed hard on her bottom.
Lumia's orange eyes were fixed on something lying on the floor. A rat's corpse. A small rat, its belly split open, blood pouring out. The body was placed right at her feet.
“Hehehehe!”
“Heh, look at our genius mage falling down again.”
“I told you to be careful. There are so many rats on the Northern Front.”
The nearby mages burst into laughter, one of them deliberately tossing the rat's corpse right in front of Lumia's feet. It was blatant harassment.
Lumia wiped away her tears, her body trembling violently. The moment she saw the rat's body, her breathing turned ragged. Her legs lost all strength and she collapsed. The magical formations she had been drawing in her mind shattered into pieces.
“That's why if an orc appears, she'll scream before she can even cast a spell.”
“So what if your theory is perfect? In real combat, you're just dead weight.”
“The Tower's fallen genius must have found Northern rats too strong?”
Mockery followed. A few Northern soldiers and knights passing by stopped to watch the scene. They clicked their tongues. Discomfort flashed across their faces. But none of them stepped in. This was the harsh Northern Front.
If it had been blatant assault or something that violated military discipline, intervention would have come. But the mages knew the line. They showed the rat's corpse. Laughed at her terrified reaction.
Mocked her with words. They stopped there. It was enough to torment her subtly without anyone in the North daring to punish them for it.
Lumia wiped her tears and tried desperately to rise. But her legs were still shaking, refusing to obey her. Then came the sound of heavy footsteps.
“Noisy.”
A cold voice. With just those two words, the laughter of the mages died instantly. They turned their heads. And they saw the man approaching. Black Ice Iron armor. Over it, a Northern-style insulated robe. Green eyes that had gone cold. It was the infamous Grand Prince Kyle Hartvalt.
“T-Tower Prince…”
The mages hurriedly lowered their heads. A wave of tension rose in their faces. Kyle was the infamous drunkard eldest son. But now he could no longer be called that.
On his first battlefield outing after joining the front, he had slaughtered nearly two hundred orcs. He had shattered their horned heads to prevent the signal from reaching the main force.
He had even captured prisoners and revealed the main force's existence. That fact was already widely known inside the Northern Front.
But Kyle looked at the mages' eyes and smirked inwardly. ‘The news of my true self is still being tightly sealed.’ The mages' gazes held only tension. No deep fear. That meant they still knew nothing of what had happened back home.
Back home, Kyle had branded one hundred and ninety-three knights from four knight orders as traitors and carried out a large-scale purge.
The truth had not yet reached the Northern Front. Roderick would have immediately told Karon. But Valgrim, the late Grand Duke, had clearly been deliberately blocking internal family information. To prevent the Karon side from preparing in advance. To make them provoke Kyle first. It was Valgrim's style.
‘If they had known the truth, they wouldn't even be able to look at me now.’
Kyle smiled coldly. But this alone was more than enough. A Grand Prince who had earned his first merit. A man publicly acknowledged by Commander Vulkric. The intimidation alone was enough to keep the mages from acting recklessly.
Kyle looked down at Lumia, who was sitting on the floor. A pretty girl with silver hair and orange eyes. Lumia Aster.
‘Confirmed.’
Kyle pointed at her with a chin flick.
“This girl comes with me.”
The mages' eyes widened.
“Huh?”
“Your Highness, what do you mean by that…?”
Kyle's gaze turned to them. Just that was enough to silence their mouths. Kyle said coldly.
“For now, don't look for this girl. I'll keep her in my tent.”
The mages' eyes subtly changed. The infamous drunkard Grand Prince was taking a young female mage with him. And he was going to keep her in his own tent. Their thoughts were obvious.
‘Is he planning to use her as a plaything?’ ‘Hmm, well, she does have big breasts and looks like she'd be enjoyable.’
The mages exchanged glances. But none of them dared to speak up. Some even licked their lips with envy as they glanced at Lumia. But they didn't seem ready to intervene either.
“Y-Yes, I understand.”
“I will remember, Your Highness.”
“I will not look for Lumia for now.”
Kyle received the replies and turned his body immediately.
“Get up and follow me.”
Lumia's shoulders trembled.
“Y-Yes…”
She forced herself to stand. Her legs still shook. Her orange pupils trembled with fear. The mages who had been tormenting her were terrifying. But the Grand Prince in front of her now was far more terrifying. Lumia followed Kyle with her head bowed low, like a lamb being led to the slaughterhouse.
* * *
The commander's tent assigned to Kyle.
When Lumia stepped inside, she stood pressed against the wall, shoulders hunched. Both hands were tightly clenched in front of her chest. Her fingers were bloodless. Only Kyle and Lumia were inside the tent.
Leina and Wulfran were away scouting the terrain and structure of the citadel for the upcoming siege war. They had been ordered to directly confirm the positions of the walls, gates, evacuation routes, and supply lines.
Lumia, having confirmed there was no one else in the quiet tent, asked in a trembling voice.
“Why… did you bring me here…?”
Her orange eyes shook with unease. The drunkard Grand Prince. The man who had brought her to the tent. And the mages' subtle, dirty gazes. Lumia knew what they were thinking. Were they trying to take her body? Had they thought her too scared to resist? The mere imagination sent the color draining from her face.
Kyle scanned her.
‘As a woman, she has sufficient value. But right now, it's not important.’
In the days when he was the Blood Cult Leader, he had never been one to restrain his desires. He had touched countless women. He had used captured women as playthings.
‘Right now, what I need is not a plaything of a girl, but talent.’
But what he needed from Lumia now was not her body, but her talent.