A Fragile Oasis, a Shared Horizon

When I opened my blurring eyes, the soft morning light was already draped across the ceiling.

It felt as though I had been dreaming, though I couldn’t quite grasp the details. I could only vaguely recall that it was a terrible nightmare. Perhaps my mother and Emperor Remina had made an appearance.

‘Did I dream of the execution grounds again?’

Unconsciously, I gritted my teeth. That absolute bastard, Marquis Girdan. If it hadn’t been for that old water buffalo, the war of succession would have undoubtedly concluded with my mother’s absolute victory.

If that had happened, by now I would be—.

“…….”

—I would be deep within the heart of the Imperial Palace, receiving my inheritance lessons exactly as I always had. Absolutely nothing would have changed. I simply would have walked blindly along the predetermined shackles of my life, exactly as they were laid out from the very moment of my birth.

A sudden, suffocating tightness gripped my chest, and a wave of nausea washed over me so fiercely I felt like throwing up.

I closed my eyes tight before snapping them open again. I needed to stop these futile thoughts. They were of absolutely no use to me right now.

Letting out a long, heavy exhale, I pushed myself up to a sitting position. As I mindlessly turned my head, I froze. Squeezed into the narrow space right beside my bed, the mage lay fast asleep, looking like the most pitiful, wretched creature in the world.

His hand, still loosely gripping a towel, was draped awkwardly over the edge of a wooden basin. Scattered across the bedside nightstand were a chaotic mess of discarded medicine bottles and crushed medicinal herbs. Only then did the hazy fragments of last night begin to float to the surface of my mind like soap bubbles, drifting back from the throes of my raging fever.

A freezing, damp towel had been endlessly pressed against my forehead and the nape of my neck. Thanks to the cup of water that was perpetually guided to my lips, my throat had never once been allowed to grow parched. Consequently, every single time I had caught a fleeting moment of consciousness, without fail, the very first thing I saw was the mage’s face.

‘Luca!’

I had even heard his voice calling out to me. That frantic, desperate cry had engraved itself deeply into my soul, lingering long after the agonizing pain had faded. Because of that, I could distinctly remember intentionally tossing and turning, exaggerating my frailty and acting as though I were in far more pain than I actually was. I buried my face in the palms of my hands.

‘Have I completely lost my mind?’

What on earth was I thinking?

The sheer embarrassment made my entire face burn crimson. But it was far too late for regrets; last night had already bled into the past. As I forced myself to recall, the fragmented, deeply humiliating memories began to stitch themselves together with terrifying clarity.

The mage had endlessly soothed my agonizing frame, cleaned up the mess when I threw up, and even changed my sweat-drenched clothes multiple times. He had likely remained anchored by my side through the entire night, utilizing a pool of physical stamina that was already dangerously shallow to begin with.

I stared down quietly at the man, whose complexion had turned noticeably paler. His fragile chest rose and fell with incredibly shallow, whisper-thin breaths. It seemed his own claim was entirely true: the moment he blacked out, his breathing and pulse became virtually imperceptible.

Exuding an aura entirely cast in shades of white and translucent pale ivory, the man looked so delicate that the morning sunbeams seemed to pass right through him. He felt like a drop of morning dew that might cleanly evaporate into nothingness at any given second.

And above all else… he was breathtakingly beautiful.

When he was awake, his endlessly wagging tongue and hilariously fragile physical frame tended to distract from his appearance, but seeing him lying there as still and flawless as a porcelain doll brought the reality rushing back with striking force.

“…….”

From the very first moment I laid eyes on him, I knew his appearance entirely defied reality.

During that frantic, suffocating moment when he shattered the magical barrier and pulled me free, my gaze had been completely, utterly stolen by him. My dire circumstances and the blood-drenched backdrop of my life were instantly erased from my mind; only the mage remained, engraved into both my brain and my chest. In my entire life, I had never witnessed anything so exquisitely beautiful. The way he had stared up at me, his eyes wide with startled wonder, made him look like a pure fairy born from the petals of a white lily.

Had it simply been an optical illusion, a stark contrast born from the filthy, dimly lit underground cell?

No, it hadn’t.

When we arrived at the tavern later that evening and the mage removed his hood, without exception, the eyes of every single person inside the establishment had locked onto him instantly. Yet, he had remained entirely oblivious. Judging by the ridiculous expression he wore, he genuinely seemed to believe they were staring at me because I was eating so well. It was utterly baffling. How could anyone possibly be that dense?

If the white Melampodium tucked against his chest had possessed even a single petal less, he undoubtedly would have been dragged into some deeply unsavory trouble by now. The gaze of the mercenary coiled in the far corner of the tavern had been particularly ominous. It was a stroke of absolute fortune that the other thugs had been sitting with their backs turned, completely blind to his presence.

Recalling that moment caused my mood to take a sharp, aggressive nosedive. Why? When the thought had crossed my mind previously, it hadn’t bothered me in the slightest.

Unconsciously, I reached out a hand, my fingertips brushing against his porcelain cheek. It felt exactly as smooth as it looked, and was remarkably softer than I had anticipated. Shocked by my own actions, I violently yanked my hand back a second later.

Fortunately, the mage didn’t wake. In that brief interval, the morning sun expanded its reach across the room, its golden rays filtering over his eyelids. Knit-browed at the sudden light, the man buried his face deeper into the safety of the blanket. My chest tightened with anxiety that he might wake up, before a flash of irritation washed over me—I hadn’t committed a single crime, so why on earth was I acting like a terrified coward?

Creak.

Moving with deliberate, sharp motions, I swung my legs over the edge and stepped down from the bed. The mage remained dead to the world, sleeping deeply. For some strange reason, that annoyed me too.

Displeased, I crossed my arms tightly over my chest when a collection of brightly wrapped, multicolored candies caught my eye, resting amidst the round medicinal pills on the nightstand. I picked one up. Peeling away the wrapper, I popped the bright yellow candy into my mouth.

An immediate burst of vibrant sweetness flooded my palate. Lemon. It was the exact same flavor he had coaxed down my throat through the hazy fog of last night’s delirium. Instantly, the irritation melting away, my mood softened.

“Luca!”

As if right on cue, the mage’s eyes snapped open and he bolted to a sitting position, his hands frantically clawing at the empty space beside him on the mattress. I was standing directly behind him, yet he didn’t even think to turn around, blindly flailing his arms over the sheets in a display that was thoroughly entertaining to watch.

“Even if you were planning to run away, you should have at least waited a few days! Your body hasn’t even fully recovered yet…!”

To think he was actively worrying about a runaway who didn’t possess a single shred of gratitude. There was truly no greater fool on the face of this earth.

“Hey.”

“Garggh—!”

“…….”

Ha, seriously.

“It’s me. Calm down.”

“What—What do you think you’re doing?! My heart nearly stopped flat in my chest!”

“And here I thought you were a Grand Mage. How is it that you can’t even sense the presence of a person standing directly behind your back?”

When I tilted my head and lobbed the question, the mage pouted his lips slightly in response. Ah, that was actually a little cut—

“…….”

What on earth am I thinking right now?

“As you so eloquently put it, I am a Grand Mage, not a Sword Master. My physical body is virtually identical to that of an ordinary citizen—hmmm.”

Stopping mid-sentence, the mage suddenly sank into a deep, agonizing internal debate.

“What is it? Why did you stop talking?”

“I am currently wrestling with my own conscience. I suppose it really is a bit unseemly to utter a blatant lie to a mere child.”

“What?”

“To be completely frank, my physical body isn’t actually identical to an ordinary citizen’s. It is infinitely worse.”

“…….”

“Ha, to think the day would come when I would forced to admit such a thing with my own lips.”

While the mage looked thoroughly miserable, I merely fixed him with a dead, icy stare. Did he really need to deliver such a pathetic fact with such sweeping, tragic gravity?

“I could tell just by looking at you.”

“Excuse me?!”

The mage looked absolutely scandalized, his usually fluid tongue freezing completely in his mouth. Then, sparked by whatever perceived blow to his pride, he suddenly erupted into a passionate, sweeping lecture.

“This isn’t a flaw on my part! The current world is fundamentally built upon primary industries, meaning every single person naturally inherits an absurd baseline of physical stamina! Especially the farmers, the lumberjacks, and the hunters! Every single person whose trade ends with ‘man’! It is a statistical deception to classify those monsters as ‘ordinary citizens’! Grouping them into the baseline is nothing short of gaslighting!”

“…I didn’t say a single word.”

“I am simply stating a—Gasp, come to think of it, is your body alright now?”

“You certainly took your sweet time asking.”

At my sharp reprimand, the mage deflated into a sullen pout once more. Ah. He really is kinda cut—

Slap!

“Why on earth did you just slap your own cheek?!”

Terrified, the mage lunged forward and desperately clamped his hand over my wrist.

“I felt like I wasn’t fully awake yet.”

“Then you should wash your face with water! Don’t you dare ever do something like that again.”

He was clearly trying his absolute best to sound stern and authoritative, but because his visage was so exquisitely fragile and beautiful, the words possessed absolutely no weight. Even so, I offered a quiet, compliant nod.

“Understood.”

And as I mindlessly looked down, my gaze accidentally locked onto his chest, which had been left completely exposed through the loose folds of his shirt as he leaned across the mattress.

“…….”

“Your fever doesn’t seem to have fully broken yet. Your face is still completely red.”

“I am perfectly fine, so mind your own business!”

“Why are you snapping at me again… Are you throwing a tantrum because you’re hungry?”

“It’s nothing like that, so just let go of my hand already!”

“Luca. You may have lived your entire life secluded inside the Imperial Palace, so you might be oblivious to this fact, but there are certain lines of propriety and boundaries that must be maintained between human beings.”

“Stop talking in circles and just spit out exactly what it is you want.”

“It’s nothing grand. It’s simply that since we are now officially living together, I expect you to show a baseline of respect toward your cohabitant.”

The single phrase ‘living together’ struck my mind like a violent bolt of lightning.

…Does this man possess absolutely no shame?

But a second later, a realization dawned on me. In the eyes of this mage, I was nothing more than an object to be sheltered, nurtured, and fiercely protected. And logistically, that was the absolute truth. No matter how much my mind resembled that of a fully grown adult, my physical frame was still merely that of a ten-year-old child.

I bit my lower lip hard. It was a suffocating sensation I had been forced to endure every single day inside the Imperial Palace—the feeling of being hopelessly trapped inside a shell that didn’t fit. Experiencing that intimately familiar, grueling weight all over again left me feeling exhausted.

Why?

My mind was a chaotic storm. Yet the mage, who had thrown the stone that caused the ripples, offered a completely carefree, radiant smile.

“You must be starving, right? Let’s go have some breakfast.”

He gently caught my hand and pulled me along. His body truly possessed absolutely no physical strength whatsoever; a five-year-old toddler could have pulled with greater force. Despite that detached thought, I allowed myself to be led out of the room without offering a shred of resistance.

‘It is only temporary.’

I would simply remain by his side until I managed to reclaim the absolute power required to exact my vengeance.

Resolving to ignore the strange, warm emotion that was beginning to blossom in a corner of my chest, I single-mindedly locked my eyes onto the back of the mage’s head, his hair shimmering brilliantly beneath the morning sun.

“Given how terribly sick you were last night, I have prepared something truly extraordinary for breakfast this morning!”

Smiling with absolute, unshakeable confidence, I proudly set the plate down onto the table. Lucalis merely stared down at the food with a dead, unimpressed expression.

“It’s just scrambled eggs and pancakes.”

“What absolute nonsense are you spouting? Look closer.”

“?”

“This is an omelet, and this is a waffle.”

“To my eyes, it looks exactly like a slightly overcooked plate of scrambled eggs alongside a pancake that has had a pattern violently stamped into it.”

“Whew, this is precisely why I can’t stand sharp, overly perceptive brats.”

“?”

Snatching the plate back, I spent a few agonizing moments meticulously reshaping the food before pushing it back toward him. Lucalis offered a slow, knowing nod.

“I see. So it’s scrambled eggs putting on a performance to look like an omelet, and a pancake pretending to be a waffle.”

Damn it!

He hit the nail right on the head. The presentation was slightly altered, but the core ingredients were completely identical. But logistically, it couldn’t be helped. We were stranded in the middle of the Monster Forest, meaning the variety of ingredients I could possibly procure was severely limited.

‘I’ll really have to make a trip out to a human city sometime soon to stock up on proper supplies.’

Cheese. Bread. Sausages. Dried meats… and vegetables.

I absolutely despised vegetables myself, but since they weren’t for me, I resolved to purchase them in massive quantities. A growing child needed to eat well. Though he had finally managed to put on a bit of weight over the past few days, seeing him look completely hollowed out and gaunt all over again after a single night of sickness made my stomach churn with anxiety.

Quickly clearing my thoughts, I finished setting the table. I thought I caught a whisper-thin murmur of thanks that sounded like the buzz of an ant, but it was so incredibly quiet I couldn’t be entirely certain.

“Tomorrow will be completely different. Just bear with it for today.”

“…I had no intention of throwing a tantrum over food.”

Having muttered those words, Lucalis began devouring the meal without showing a single hint of discomfort. Sitting across from him, I took a bite of my scramb—cough, my omelet, but it tasted entirely hollow. To be precise, I was thoroughly sick of it. Having survived on nothing but this exact combination for an entire week, it was bound to happen.

‘Goodness, the one being truly inconsiderate here was actually me!’

Stricken by a wave of intense guilt, I sank into deep reflection when the plate of panca—cough, the waffle plate was suddenly, subtly slid across the table toward me.

“The reason you possess absolutely no physical strength is because you eat like a bird.”

“Luca…”

Moved to the absolute depths of my soul, I stared at him with wide, shimmering eyes, causing him to furrow his brow deeply and bury his face right back into his own plate.

“Just hurry up and eat.”

“You should eat it. I naturally don’t require much food anyway.”

“Back when we escaped from the s*ave traders… do you know why I allowed myself to follow you without putting up a fight?”

The topic of conversation suddenly took a massive leap. But it was an undeniably fascinating question.

‘Come to think of it, he really had been strangely, miraculously compliant back then.’

Given the true nature of his personality that I had come to experience since then, he was the type of brat who would have naturally smashed a blunt object against the back of my skull while riding on my shoulders and sprinted in the opposite direction.