* * *

“There’s no such thing.”

“No such thing?”

“There’s no ‘how far.’ As long as my life is at stake, I’m the subordinate, and you’re the superior.”

“‘Superior’? Is that a magical term?”

“It means you’re above me.”

‘Does he not know the concept of hierarchy?’

The automatic translation system, which had been working since my possession, seemed unable to capture terms like “subordinate” or “superior.”

I should sneak a look at some contract documents later.

Hearing Ateol attempt to pronounce “subordinate” and “superior” was unexpectedly amusing.

“In any case, since you’ve gone so far as to say that, I’ll tell you. What I find most puzzling is your attitude.”

“My attitude? What’s wrong with my attitude? I’m being more than submissive enough.”

“Yes, exactly. That’s the problem. Why are you being so submissive?”

Even being polite causes issues now?

I stared at him, dumbfounded, but Ateol gave a slight smirk, as though he were the one baffled by me.

“It’s like you’re not just seeking my help to avoid danger… You’re acting like I’m the source of that danger.”

I woke up to the sound of rain.

The droplets announcing the start of the rainy season tapped against the roof before morphing into a heavy downpour.

Peering out the window, I saw it was still early dawn, the sun yet to rise.

From the high tower, the clouds felt close, and the rain falling to the ground below seemed distant.

My room offered a clear view of the tower’s most beautiful garden, its vivid colors standing out even from such a height.

Sertha had mentioned the garden had changed a lot, but as in my past life and now, I still couldn’t tell exactly what was different.

When asked if I liked the garden, I simply nodded.

If I had returned to the past just a few days earlier, I might have known how it looked before the change.

In the dim light, the labyrinth encircling the tower looked like a flowing river.

A river dotted with small scarlet lanterns.

Beautiful from here, but those lights were deadly—designed to disorient intruders and lead them to their deaths.

As I watched the glow of the lights spreading through the rain, I noticed a small figure moving near the entrance of the labyrinth.

Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a person—someone I knew.

The golden hair, slick with rain, made it obvious.

It was Ateol.

What was Atel doing here at this hour?

He seemed to be speaking at length with the sentries (a purely symbolic presence) at the labyrinth entrance before nodding and turning away.

The fact that I could see his movements clearly even from this height was astonishing.

Through the pouring rain, Ateol walked confidently, cutting across the space with purpose.

Only authorized individuals could bring carriages or horses near this area, much like certain key locations in the imperial palace.

Strangely, though he walked through the downpour, he didn’t look pitiful or forlorn.

On the contrary, he seemed entirely unaffected—steadfast, as always.

The only concern I felt was whether he might be cold…

Concern? For Ateol?

Why was I worried about the Fourth Prince?

In any case, that was that.

Still, he should’ve at least brought an umbrella or a raincoat.

I watched him until his figure disappeared from sight.

ꔚ

The next day, I awoke late in the morning to find the tower in an uproar.

The commotion was so intense that I could sense it even in my room.

Something serious must have happened.

Hmm, had this event occurred before?

I thought I remembered all the major events from my first life, but this one didn’t ring a bell.

After washing up, I sat in my robe, waiting, and soon Cloden came in.

“I have a report for you, Tower Master.”

“…What happened?”

“Some animals raised in the tower have been injured.”

Well, that was certainly unusual.

The Magic Tower was a place no one could enter lightly.

Its security was stricter than that of the Emperor, Empress, or Crown Prince’s palaces, and my barrier spells were always active.

The animals were hurt outside the labyrinth, where security was comparatively lax, but still, it wasn’t a place anyone could easily intrude upon.

At the mention of injured animals, my mind immediately flashed to Ateol’s figure disappearing into the darkness.

At this point, it wasn’t widely known, but Ateol had the skills to bypass the tower’s defenses, at least outside the labyrinth.

“Were they badly hurt?”

“One of them is in critical condition.”

I stood up.

Though they were technically Tower animals, they were more like pets Cloden kept in a corner of the tower.

Two raccoons, three rabbits, one fox.

They had grown strong from feeding on the tower’s mana and lived a remarkably long life.

They were still alive when I died six years later.

…Meaning, they were companions I had grown attached to during those years.

“Tower Master?”

“I’ll go see the injured animals. Are they still in the small greenhouse?”

“No, they seemed quite frightened, so I brought them inside.”

During the rainy season, Cloden would often bring the animals indoors after a day or two.

Their shelter, a low and spacious greenhouse behind the tower, left them gloomy and anxious in constant rain.

Feeling sorry for them, Cloden would always find excuses to keep them with him throughout the rainy season.

Not that he’d admit it outright—he’d always act indifferent and come up with random justifications.

This time, though, he likely brought them in a hurry, too distressed to think of excuses.

For someone with such a cold exterior, he was surprisingly caring.

Pulling my hood over my head, I went to see the animals.

They were in the guest room for treatment.

Judging by the scene, their initial care had already been completed—three of them lay bandaged on cushions, trembling in pain.

One raccoon, however, looked dire.

It wasn’t even shivering, lying limp and breathing faintly as if it might die at any moment.

I raised my hand over it and swung down sharply.

Everyone in the room widened their eyes.

Even Cloden’s mouth fell open.

The air around my hand shimmered like sharp, reflective glass, and the raccoon twitched slightly.

Then, its bushy tail began to move.

It slowly lifted its round head and stared at me before springing to its feet.

“Tower Master.”

Cloden called out to me, his voice filled with surprise.

Wait, did I mess up?

I quickly checked the gauge, but thankfully, there was no change.

This hadn’t happened in my previous life.

However, if it had, I probably would’ve acted the same way, even without knowing much about these animals.

After all, I do possess healing powers.

This is one of the reasons why the Imperial family holds the Tower Master in such high regard—on par with, if not above, the Emperor himself.

Healing magic that can cure even the gravest of wounds.

But I rarely used it.

Once or twice a year at most, and only if the Emperor himself came to beg incessantly.

Even then, I’d use it grudgingly.

The dangers of healing magic were well-known. If it were freely used, people would recklessly risk life-threatening injuries, assuming they’d be healed.

Because of this, the Magic Tower strictly restricted the use of healing magic.

Moreover, the fact that I could wield such magic was a closely guarded secret.

And now I had used it—on a raccoon.

Well, it should be fine.

It’s not like the raccoon will run around telling everyone the Tower Master saved it with healing magic.

At most, it might inform its raccoon friends.

* * *