The Illusion of a Perfect Guide

Pisha Tecon, who had stepped out from behind the tightly sealed gates of Rahid, began allowing those with temporary seals to enter. These seals were even issued to non-mages. Granted, the conditions were so stringent that not just anyone could obtain one, but this “small-yet-not-so-small” change carried significant weight.

Of course, even if it had lost its title as the only path to the Magic Tower, Luncandel remained a vital hub. Despite the increased methods of entering the secluded city, the land route connecting Luncandel and Rahid remained bustling. Gate fees were exorbitant, and without a mage to vouch for one’s identity, passing the visitor screening was a nightmare. For merchants and the less affluent, the land route was the only viable option.

Then, there was the Academy. In truth, the Academy had become more important than being a mere gateway to the Tower. As wealthy, powerful young nobles spent money like water, Luncandel developed at a breakneck pace.

The city, currently in a state of transition, was exactly as Abel described—different from the capital or grand metropolises like Lovenus. From shops that looked centuries old to stores so flamboyant they made your head spin, the landscape shifted frantically within a single alleyway. It was chaotic, but it made for excellent people-watching.

Even the width of the roads was inconsistent. Some areas featured sweeping, empty boulevards, while others were narrower and more winding than a back alley. Yet, if the city had a defining trait, it was its vibrancy; there wasn’t a single gloomy corner to be found.

Passing a pet shop brought a whiff of animal musk, and it was quite entertaining to see ancient, peeling signs barely holding themselves up by leaning against shiny new ones. Abel, who had traded his shoulder-drape for a firm grip on my waist, suddenly brightened as he spotted something and pulled me along. Soon, he let out a self-made sound effect—“Ta-da!”—and thrust something toward me. It was a four-layered ice cream cone with different flavors, drenched in chocolate syrup.

“You used to love this, didn’t you? Your whole expression would change whenever I bought you ice cream as a kid.”

Certainly, if I were actually a child, I would have been bouncing with joy. But perhaps my palate had changed as I grew—even if this wasn’t my original body—because I didn’t crave sweets as much as I used to.

“I love it.”

Still, I couldn’t ignore the expectant look on his face. As I took it with a bright smile, the corners of Abel’s mouth twitched upward. Seeing him look so proud of himself made me burst into a genuine laugh.

At the same time, the conscience I thought I’d tucked away started to prick at me. It felt wrong to be humoring him on the surface while internally plotting how to shake him off. Even amidst this guilt, I was busy calculating exactly where to send Abel so I could make my move with Elliot.

Unaware of my internal conflict, Abel kept walking for a long time.

Abel loathed the Academy. A man who had lived his life free and unconstrained by rules, he seemed to have suffered immense stress from the collective lifestyle of professors and students. He claimed he was a model student, but that was pure nonsense. However, it was a fact that he had been highly anticipated due to his brilliant grades and talent.

Even now, he had many superiors, but they too were mages who had fled to the Imperial Palace simply because the order of the Magic Tower was a nuisance. They all seemed to share Abel’s temperament. He likely hadn’t set foot near Luncandel since graduation. It was impressive to see him walking so confidently without getting lost.

It was even more surprising considering how fast Luncandel changed. You didn’t even have to try to find places where signs were being taken down or replaced. Except for a few historic areas like the Spice District, most places wouldn’t look the same for more than a year.

I had momentarily forgotten a crucial fact: walking confidently does not mean one actually knows the way.

Abel, who had been boasting that a certain restaurant was likely the best in Luncandel, came to a halt in front of a building that looked nothing like an eatery. Speechless, he let out a faint “Uh…” and took a few steps back.

“Why is it gone?”

I’d like to know that, too.

While I wasn’t particularly surprised, Abel was flustered, searching everything from the neighboring shops to the narrow gaps between buildings. Of course, no amount of searching would make a missing restaurant magically appear. Instead of the smell of fine cuisine, the shop in front of us—a magical supplies store—didn’t even have a potato peel rolling around.

After rummaging through the street for a while, Abel muttered with a shell-shocked expression.

“This is impossible… It was definitely here. How is it gone?”

He seemed genuinely horrified that his memory could play him joined. In a neighborhood where shops changed like the seasons, it was perfectly normal for a restaurant to go out of business or relocate. It was very him to not consider that possibility.

I was about to comfort him and suggest finding another place when the shopkeeper beat me to it.

“Don’t get too close to the stall. It’s dangerous.”

Experimental Magic Tools. The shopkeeper’s personality was written all over the curt, honest sign. He was the type to stick to his own rules regardless of whether business was good or bad. The only surprise was that he didn’t look that old. His voice sounded irritable, and the deep furrow between his brows gave him a high-strung appearance.

I took another step back, feeling awkward at the cold reception. I didn’t think we were that close.

The owner, grumbling as he made microscopic adjustments to the items on the stall, narrowed his eyes at the idling Abel.

“Abel… Edwill?”

His voice was skeptical, as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes. Hearing that, I wondered if I should grab Abel’s hand and run for it right now.

Until graduation, Abel had been a celebrity at the Academy in many ways. He’d be hailed as a genius, then suddenly storm out without permission; he’d wander around seemingly wasting his talent, only to end up as the third person in the Academy’s history to graduate early. On top of that, his inability to hide his brilliance and his habit of only remembering things he liked was a perfect recipe for making enemies.

He was always surrounded by people and wasn’t exactly antisocial, but he never had deep relationships. He simply didn’t care about anything outside his specific interests. Abel was the type to have as many enemies as he had friends.

He might look more approachable compared to my other brothers, but he was just as difficult. The stories of how Leo and Abel fought every chance they got while I was away weren’t exactly easy to laugh off.

Fortunately, the shopkeeper didn’t grab Abel by the collar. Instead, he scratched his chin, which was covered in dark stubble. His scowl was more of a habitual grimace from deep thought rather than genuine hostility. At the very least, it didn’t seem like Abel was someone who had hit him and run away.

“You know me?”

“Based on the way you talk, it is you.”

Abel’s eyes shifted. To a stranger, he just looked surprised, but I could see his lip pouting slightly. This was Level 1 Annoyance.

“You don’t even remember me? It’s only been a few years…”

The owner grumbled, yet his voice carried a hint of nostalgia as he began to talk. Surprisingly, he had been Abel’s peer at the Academy. I was less shocked that a talent from an elite academy was running this tiny shop, and more shocked that he was the same age as Abel with that face. Maybe if he didn’t slick his hair back like that…

Despite the owner’s efforts, Abel just stood there blankly. Finally, let out an exasperated sigh, the owner snapped.

“How can you not recognize the person who used the room right next to yours for years!”

At that, a look of delayed realization washed over Abel’s face. “Ah!”

“So… Hans?”

“It’s Lux, not Hans.”

“Right, right. Lux.”

“Forget it… You’re the kind of guy who’ll turn around and call me ‘James’ next time anyway.”

Abel laughed, but his eyes kept darting toward me. The way his mouth was twisting suggested he was moving into Level 2 Annoyance. I appreciated his effort to stay polite instead of just walking away, so I stepped up and took his hand. His fingers wiggled against my palm before gripping my wrist tightly, settling only when he was satisfied.

Only then did Lux seem to notice me standing beside Abel, and his expression shifted strangely. He started to say something, then closed his mouth, standing frozen like a statue before his eyes began to wander restlessly.

“Uh, well. This person is…”

Seeing Lux stammer with the tips of his ears turning beet red, a thought almost occurred to me. More accurately, I was trying my best to ignore why he was reacting like that. I’d had a hunch from the start. I just didn’t want to admit that a man was blushing at my face.

When I thought the Crown Prince liked me, it wasn’t this uncomfortable. If one has an open mind, gender shouldn’t matter, but the gap between a breathtaking beauty and a middle-aged-looking man who hadn’t even trimmed his beard was quite large. I didn’t realize I was such a superficial person.

“She’s my sister.”

“Sister?”

Lux, who had been too shy to even make eye contact, scanned me again with a look of dawning comprehension.

“A fairy?”