RODH Chapter 21

21.

Ian’s green eyes were like conifer trees struck directly by the frost of Ferost.

Only then did Seor realize he had misspoken.

Caught up in the argument, he had forgotten—but wasn’t his fiancé also an omega? There’s no way he’d be pleased to hear something like that.

Seor quickly tried to change the subject.

“Ian, what I just said—”

But Ian had no intention of listening to Seor’s excuses any further.

“I’ve heard more than enough, Your Highness.”

Seor’s voice trembled slightly as he called out to Ian.

“Ian.”

“I don’t have any more questions, so may I go now?”

Seor couldn’t bring himself to stop him and simply nodded.

And then, he watched Ian until he exited the study—worried that his steps might falter.

But Ian remained dignified and composed to the very end.

“Damn it.”

Seor ended up spending two hours in the study, unable to even look at his imperial politics book, weighed down by an unexplainable frustration.

---

Meanwhile, after leaving the study, Ian acted just as he always did on his way back to his room.

But the moment the door shut behind him, he leaned against it with a long sigh.

‘Omegas will do anything to cling to an alpha. I find them utterly repulsive.’

If he hated them that much, then why not break off the engagement?

Ian had once genuinely liked Seor, which made hearing his true thoughts all the more shocking.

He already knew Seor hated him to death, but to be outright disgusted by him? As expected of the Empire’s petty little sun cub—small in every sense of the word.

Ian despised how Seor claimed to hate omegas so fiercely, yet still coveted everything the House of Ruben had.

“Disgusting. Truly.”

To soothe his bitterness, Ian bit into a liquor chocolate.

It had only been two weeks since he’d sworn off alcohol.

But today, the craving was unbearable.

There was no friend quite like alcohol.

Still, since he’d resolved to treat his addiction, getting violent while drunk was absolutely off-limits.

As he lay quietly on the bed, there came a knock—knock knock—and Bain stepped inside.

Bain scanned the room, then rushed over when he saw Ian lying in bed.

Without warning, he placed his hand on Ian’s forehead and then pulled it away.

“Young master, are you feeling unwell? You don’t seem to have a fever.”

“I was just lying down. That’s all.”

“Did His Highness the Crown Prince spout nonsense again today?”

“How’d you know?”

“I can just tell. I’ve always known how heartless His Highness can be to you, young master!”

Bain clenched his fist tightly, as if ready to throw a punch, and swung it into the air.

His reaction was both funny and endearing, and Ian let out a quiet chuckle.

“Oh, you just laughed.”

“I didn’t.”

“Don’t lie to me. I saw it just now.”

“Fine, I laughed. I did.”

“Hehe.”

Bain was the kind of servant who could lift his master’s mood with the smallest gesture.

To have someone like that at his side—Ian truly was lucky.

Feeling a bit more encouraged, Ian got up and prepared Berkisto’s journal and a new notebook.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“I need to see the Tower Lord. We agreed I’d stop by once a week, remember?”

Ian grabbed the auto-ink pen he’d ordered in advance and said to Bain,

“He said I could come by anytime, so I figured I’d go now.”

Ian needed something to clear his head.

---

Lake Lacus during the day was quite a beautiful sight.

So much so that it would be nice to bring Father and Mother here sometime.

Perhaps Bain had read my thoughts, as he kept exclaiming in admiration.

“Young master, this lake is definitely best seen during the day! It feels like my whole chest has opened up!”

Bain’s brown hair shimmered like flax in the spring sunlight.

Only after I’d let him soak up the sun for a while did I begin wandering around in search of the Tower.

Soon, a tall cylindrical spire appeared, seemingly reaching up to the edge of the sky.

I knocked on the door of the Mage Tower.

“Is anyone there? It’s Ian Pearl Ruben.”

From inside, there came a clatter and a crash.

Eventually, Alvis Dween appeared, his hair slightly disheveled.

Perhaps because he spent all his time inside the tower doing research, his white skin looked even paler in contrast to his blue eyes.

“I’ve come to keep our appointment.”

“I didn’t expect you today…”

“If you’re busy, I can come another time.”

“No, no!”

“……”

“Just… it’s fine if you come. The Tower always welcomes you.”

Alvis still couldn’t quite meet my eyes as he stumbled over his words.

I walked a little distance away from him, worried he might make another blunder.

Bain followed behind, chatting excitedly about all the curious items around us.

But I was less interested in those and more curious about the Mage Tower itself.

I had inquired at both the ducal library and the imperial archives, but the only things available on the Tower were formal documents. Nothing detailed.

It was essentially a place that existed—but no one really knew what it did.

The fact that the Empire maintained a partnership with such a mysterious group of mages was baffling in itself.

The place Alvis led us to was a garden where various plants had been planted.

But the state of the plants was… odd.

On one side, tomatoes were growing; on the other, potatoes.

Bain frowned as if he were looking at something grotesque and whispered,

“Were these made with magic too? I bet they taste awful.”

Alvis didn’t miss the quiet comment.

“They taste the same. It was simply a student’s curiosity—what if planting one crop could yield two kinds of produce?”

“That’s fascinating. Alvis, may I ask you something I’ve been wondering about?”

Alvis stopped in his tracks and looked at me with a calm gaze.

For some reason, that look made the noise in my head quiet down.

“I couldn’t find anything in the archives, so I still don’t know how to define what the Mage Tower actually is. Do you know, Alvis?”

“The Tower… its origins are unclear. But my master once told me something.”

I quickly pulled out a blank sheet of paper and my ink pen.

Despite looking like a student, Alvis’s gaze—perhaps reminiscent of someone he’d lost—felt awfully heavy to bear.

“Before the Empire existed, there was a great sage who went around healing people. But as more and more people flocked to him, he grew weary. So, he built the Mage Tower as a place to rest.”

“That’s all…?”

“Yes. That’s what I heard.”

I’d thought maybe they were secretly building tools to destroy the world in here, but apparently, the Mage Tower was just a wizard’s bed.

After finishing my notes, I offered him my thanks.

“Thank you. This record will be kept in the Imperial Archives and become a valuable reference.”

“Even though the information is uncertain?”

“If I write it as, ‘there is a tale that goes like this,’ then others who know more about the Tower will likely add to it.”

“You’re very wise.”

“You flatter me.”

After that, Alvis guided me through various parts of the Tower.

When I joked about whether it was really okay for him to show me so much—what if I went around spreading all of it?—he replied,

“There is a spell that makes one forget everything but what’s necessary.”

“……”

“So I would appreciate it if you didn’t make me use it.”

Scary guy.

As I looked into those blue eyes—the same ones I’d stared into right before drinking poison in my second life—I turned my head away.

This time, we entered the animal enclosure, which, surprisingly, didn’t smell at all like a place where livestock were kept.

“We’re experimenting with ways to effectively eliminate the smell of compost.”

“That sounds more like engineering than magic.”

“There aren’t many in the Tower who can use magic. They only appear when needed, so it’s unlikely you’ll see them often.”

Alvis looked like he was ready to summon every wizard in the Tower if I wanted, but I stopped him.

After all, the strongest mage was already standing right in front of me. No need to bother the lesser ones.

For a while, Alvis talked only about his experiments—until he suddenly brought up something that seemed to weigh on him.

“I plan to attend the upcoming hunting tournament. May I have your permission?”

“Do you need my permission for that?”

“I only ask because your last meeting with His Highness the Crown Prince didn’t end well.”

“Ah.”

Even when that petty bastard Seor wasn’t around, he still managed to cast a shadow.

It was one of those rare moments where I found myself missing Lucian’s nonstop annoying chatter.

Then Alvis hesitantly added,

“And… I’d also like your permission to offer any spoils I win at the tournament to you.”

At that, I decided to ask something that had been on my mind for a while.

“Is it because I resemble your mate?”

His blue eyes shook violently, as if struck by an earthquake.

I could clearly see the turmoil in his heart.

I threw another stone at it.

“I’m not your mate.”

“I know.”

Alvis responded quickly.

“It’s true that you resemble Tian a great deal. But that’s not the only reason I want to dedicate my prize to you.”

“Then why?”

“Because I want to change who I am.”

Alvis went on to explain the experiment he had carried out in the past.

“Tian died absorbing a mana explosion into his own body—to keep the Tower from collapsing.”

“I heard your mate was a beta. Is that correct?”

This was also why I chose dried flowers as a gift for the Tower Lord. Because scentless dried flowers symbolized betas.

I’d hoped, even a little, to move his heart… though I hadn’t expected him to be drunk when he received them.

Looking as though he were repenting for the past, Alvis scrubbed his face with dry hands and said,

“Yes, that’s right. And Lord Ruben, I will never make the same mistake again.”