Ihan’s [Lie Detection Ability] was a skill even Isis acknowledged.

His hearing could pick up heartbeats, his sense of touch could detect minute movements, and his sense of smell and taste could catch not only the faint scent of sweat but also subtle traces of deception—hormonal changes, to be precise.

His sight observed slight muscle relaxations, pupil contractions, and even faint tremors in the body.

Lastly, his sixth sense assisted in overall judgment and decision-making.

Ihan’s lie detection ability was a ‘technique’ that utilized all of his senses to their fullest.

However, while it sounded easy in theory, applying it in daily life was extremely challenging.

Mobilizing every sense to extract information imposed immense stress and fatigue.

If overused, it often left him feeling light-headed.

Perhaps it was proof that great power always came at a steep price?

And so…

“First question. If you know whether the expelled mages from the Magic Tower are alive, can you also track their location?”

“……”

Huey shook his head, denying it.

No, it couldn’t be done.

—Twitch.

…A faint scent of sweat and a sharp, metallic tang filled the air.

“I see. So, it is possible.”

“!??!”

“Second question. Then, can that tracking still be done now?”

“……”

“Hmm….”

Huey fell into silence.

He had likely realized that Ihan’s ability was real after being caught lying once.

And like a true mage, he was now resolved to avoid any further reactions.

His steadfastness suggested he had no intention of responding anymore.

It was clearly a frustrating situation, but Ihan—

“Is that so? Then it’s possible.”

“!!!”

—didn’t care whether his opponent remained silent.

The body’s responses weren’t something that could be hidden just by refusing to answer.

Even without verbal responses, Ihan could extract information through subtle changes in scent, heartbeat, muscle tension, pupil dilation, and breathing patterns.

And it was his intuition that pieced together those fragments of data into certainty—intuition that could just as easily be called ‘judgment.’

For three years—no, for more than half his life—he had been entangled with mages and spent his time fighting them.

Didn’t they say familiarity breeds contempt?

Like obsessive critics who become experts on celebrities they hate, Ihan was the “Anti of All Antis” when it came to mages.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call him an expert—a specialist at reading the character of mages.

‘I’m not wrong.’

Ihan reaffirmed his belief, convincing himself to trust the information he gathered and the judgments he made.

Not a single shred of doubt entered his mind.

‘I’m the world’s greatest mage detector.’

With that conviction, he continued.

“Is the Magic Tower still in contact with the expelled mages?”

“Does the Magic Tower have devices to monitor, track, or communicate with them?”

“Did you come to this kingdom not just to meet Irene Windler but also to connect with the expelled mages?”

“Do you harbor impure intentions toward Irene Windler?”

“Are you planning an act of terrorism against this kingdom?”

“Are the Empire and the Magic Tower planning to attack Pendragon?”

A relentless barrage of questions.

Drip…

Cold sweat poured down Ihan’s back, and his head throbbed slightly, but he didn’t stop.

It was an obsession bordering on madness.

Not just to find the mages, but to know everything.

“…Ugh, uh…!”

Huey de Beiron trembled in fear.

The terrifying obsession, the madness, and the murderous intent Ihan harbored toward mages filled him with dread.

It was as if Ihan had resolved to annihilate the very essence of mages.

Huey de Beiron, unable to withstand that aura, finally—

“Urgh….”

—collapsed.

“Tsk, what a drama queen. I’m the one who’s actually about to die from this headache.”

The foam at Huey’s mouth made his fainting seem overly theatrical.

Ihan massaged his aching head, frowning deeply.

While he was suffering from a splitting headache, the idiot he was interrogating suddenly fainted—how pathetic.

Mages, as expected, were frail in both body and mind.

Downing his iced coffee and milk tea in quick succession, Ihan tried to quench his burning thirst.

At that moment, the café fell silent.

Everyone—the housewives, workers, and part-timers—stopped chatting and laughing.

And then…

“…Honestly, I’d probably faint too. No, it’s impressive he only fainted.”

A man approached.

His face looked haggard, but his sharp, shining eyes gave off the presence of someone important.

Ihan offered him a calm nod of gratitude.

“Thanks for your help.”
“No need to thank me. I’m just glad I could assist, Sir Ihan.”

Pendragon Guild’s branch leader—Simon.

He was the one who arranged for all the café staff and patrons to be hired.

“I’ll settle the payment later.”
“Haha, no need. Oh, but you should probably move soon. The guild’s guards are keeping others from entering the café, but they won’t be able to hold them off forever.”
“…Got it.”

With that, Ihan casually slung the unconscious mage over his shoulder and walked out of the café.

His steps were slow and unhurried, as if there was no urgency at all.

Simon watched him leave and muttered—

“…He’s terrifying.”

Simon had witnessed Ihan corner the mage from start to finish.

Relentless?

No, it was something beyond that.

It felt like watching a raging wildfire consume everything in its path, and the mage looked like someone desperately flailing as they burned.

If Simon had been in Huey’s position, he was certain he wouldn’t have lasted a single second before fainting—or wetting himself.

That’s how terrifying it was.

Compared to Ihan, even ghosts and demons seemed tame.

“Phew, I really need to stay on this guy’s good side.”

Having experienced firsthand how frightening Ihan could be, Simon resolved to remain as friendly as possible with him.

If anyone ever asked him who the scariest man in his life was, he’d have only one answer—

Ihan.

*****

Munch, munch.

As Ihan stepped out of the café, he pulled a lunchbox from his bag and started eating.

It was the meal prepared by the maid.

“…Tastes good.”

As expected of her.

She might have been hopeless at housework, but her cooking skills were impeccable. It was a satisfying meal, to say the least.

Whew!

Perhaps it was thanks to the heartfelt care put into the meal.

Ihan’s exhausted body and mind, worn out from overusing his sensory detection, felt slightly rejuvenated as he loosened his shoulders.

Judging by the feeling—

‘Half a day… No, at least three hours of rest should do it.’

Calculating the recovery time down to the minute, Ihan decided to find a place where he could rest.

‘Where should I go? Blackie’s place? Or Nervous Wreck’s hideout?’

Thanks to his capable students, there were plenty of options where he could hide and rest.

‘Or maybe I should check in on both of them?’

He needed a place to lie low, but there were also questions he wanted to ask those two.

Questions about whether such an incident had occurred in the past timeline or even in the original game’s storyline.

It was necessary to resolve that doubt.

And if it turned out that this event was unprecedented, it would be critical to pinpoint where things began to deviate.

Just as Ihan was weighing his options—

Pause.

“……”

…A new option suddenly appeared before him, forcing him to halt his steps.

Although he had carefully chosen a deserted path to avoid drawing attention with the bundle wrapped in cloth on his back, someone was standing directly in his way.

And that someone was—

“We’re seeing each other a lot, huh? I’m not thrilled about it.”

“Likewise.”

Raq de Duron.

Despite his notoriously bad memory for names, Ihan remembered this one clearly after hearing it just once.

The knight of Galahad stood blocking his path, as if he had been waiting there all along.

“…I don’t have time to deal with you. I’m busy.”

Unbothered by Raq’s presence, Ihan continued walking, fully intending to ignore him and pass by.

But—

“There’s a Galahad safehouse nearby.”

“……”

“You look like you’re in need of rest. Our safehouse would be ideal—it even has a medicinal hot spring.”

“Hmph….”

Raq was unexpectedly persuasive, and Ihan swallowed hard.

He did desperately need rest, and the mention of a hot spring was a serious temptation.

Whether Raq knew it or not, Ihan’s hobby happened to be soaking in hot springs.

And as if to seal the deal, Raq added:

“We also have premium milk and ice cream.”

“Hah! Do I look like the kind of guy who’d fall for that? Give me a break….”

Ihan scoffed at the ridiculousness of flaunting those as benefits.

Sure, premium milk and ice cream were astronomically expensive in this world—rich in flavor and even good for health.

But he wasn’t a kid who’d be swayed by such offers.

Deciding that Raq’s persuasion skills weren’t exactly top-notch, Ihan—

“Well? Lead the way already.”

“……”

“What? Something wrong?”

…insisted that it wasn’t the hot spring or the premium ice cream that swayed him.

Rather, it was simply that relying on his wealthy acquaintance felt less humiliating than begging his students for help.

There was no guilt in that—none at all—

“Wipe your drool, you brute.”

“……”

…Honestly, some things should just be overlooked as a courtesy in the martial world.