When the blond-haired mage, Huey, opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a pair of menacing eyes that made his heart drop.

“…Hrk!”

He was already struggling to breathe, crushed by the suffocating pain and pressure inflicted by that nameless knight.

And now, upon regaining consciousness, he was once again met with that murderous gaze, threatening to send his mind spiraling into darkness.

But Huey was no ordinary man—he was the Magic Tower’s top disciple.

Quick thinking and sharp judgment were second nature to someone in his position.

Scanning the desolate room, Huey quickly realized that only the man with the terrifying eyes remained.

‘He’s gone! That monster is gone!’

The freak who had kidnapped him from the VIP suite in the blink of an eye.

The one who had extracted all of the Magic Tower’s classified secrets using unknown means and radiated a monstrous killing intent—that monster was nowhere to be seen.

Twitch.

And more importantly, his body could move—just slightly.

‘This is my chance!’

He was tied up, and the man before him seemed to be keeping watch, but without that horrifying monster present—

“P-please… s-spare… me….”

…perhaps he could escape?

His voice came out rough and broken, like a rusty harmonica, likely due to being deprived of water for seventeen hours.

Still, the fact that he could speak again was what mattered most.

Huey clung to that shred of hope and begged desperately for his life, pleading to the man with the terrifying eyes.

The Magic Tower’s top disciple—someone who had never bowed his head or begged anyone for anything—was now groveling with a pitiful voice.

If anyone from the Magic Tower had witnessed this, they would have doubted their own eyes.

But Huey was so desperate to escape the monster’s grasp that he would’ve gladly bargained with the devil himself.

That’s how close he was to his limit.

“If—if you help me, I’ll give you anything you want. I swear on the Magic Tower’s name!”

“……”

“P-please, just….”

Logically speaking, it was absurd to expect the man with the terrifying eyes to accept such an offer.

But Huey was far from logical at the moment.

In a twisted way, it was impressive that he could still attempt to negotiate in this state.

And then—

“Interesting offer.”

“!!”

Hearing a positive response, Huey silently cheered.

Yes! This was exactly what he wanted to hear.

Huey hurriedly pressed on.

“T-then please, water and food…! I need to recover my strength….”

His body was in shambles.

His stamina, magic, and mental strength were all drained.

He couldn’t even cast basic spells in his current state.

If he could just drink water—no, even a bite of food would do!

If only he could—

“……”

“Wh-what are you doing? Hurry up and bring me some water—!”

Despite his desperation, the man didn’t budge, and Huey’s impatience boiled over into anger.

It was clear how he usually treated those beneath him.

And—

“Ah. So this is what it feels like to be underestimated.”

Huey had failed to consider how insulting his tone might be.

And then—

Schlkk!

“Gaaaahhhh—!”

A blade pierced Huey’s chest.

“Ugh… ugh…!”

Huey writhed in agony.

His flesh tore, and his ribs cracked under the pressure.

Drip, drip.

Blood poured down his body, staining the floor.

Huey could only think—

‘I’m going to die….’

“—Wake up. That was just a little prank. Overreacting, aren’t you?”

“Haaah!”

Huey gasped, snapping back to reality.

“…Huh? …What…?”

He looked down at his chest.

It was intact.

But the pain, the terror—everything had felt so real.

Huey trembled uncontrollably, overwhelmed by fear, agony, and confusion.

It was the second time today that he had faced unimaginable terror.

At this point, staying sane felt more exhausting than losing his mind.

And so—

“Ughhh…!”

Huey fainted again.

Thud.

“…Ridiculous.”

The man frowned as he watched Huey collapse once more.

Despite his words, there wasn’t even a hint of amusement in his expression.

And then—

“Why so noisy when I’m trying to rest?”

“……”

“Terrible hospitality.”

“…Hmph.”

Raq merely furrowed his brows and closed his eyes, choosing not to respond.

“Ignoring me, huh….”

Ihan grumbled but didn’t seem particularly surprised—or disappointed.

Instead, he took another sip of milk.

“…Damn.”

He had to admit it.

Raq wasn’t lying.

This milk—

‘It’s so good I could cry. What the hell have I been drinking until now?’

It was hands down the best milk he’d ever tasted—across both his current and past lives.

And for that, Ihan decided to forgive just about everything.

*****

Clink.

“Please enjoy, Sir.”
“Ah, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. It’s only proper hospitality since we invited you.”
“…Are you really related to that stone-faced guy over there? How are you this different?”
“Haha, I get that a lot.”

The female knight who brought Ihan finely shaved milk ice and ice cream bore a faint resemblance to the spear-wielding man sulking nearby.

But unlike him, she had gentler eyes and spoke with grace, exuding elegance.

A familiar face.

She was the Galahad knight who had looked after Irene Windler when she fainted during the monster attack the other day.

Ihan hadn’t expected to see her again here, let alone be served milk ice and ice cream by her.

Still—

‘Food is food.’

Ihan began eating without hesitation.

After all, he’d already been impressed by the milk he drank earlier after his hot spring bath.

And since this dessert was made with the same milk—

“…Damn, this is insanely good too.”

Once again, profanity slipped out as a form of praise.

“It’s a rare delicacy produced only by cows blessed by fairies. It strengthens your bones and keeps you full for three days without the need for food.”
“…And why have I never even heard rumors about this?”
“That’s only natural. The cows are incredibly difficult to raise, and they’re exclusive to Galahad. You could say it’s one of Galahad’s specialties.”
“Hmph. So, to taste this again, I’d have to become part of Galahad? That’s… actually kind of tempting. No wonder Galahad has so many talented people….”
“I-I doubt anyone’s been lured in by milk before.”
“You never know.”

Clink.

Ihan set his spoon down.

In less than a minute, he had emptied the dish.

It might have looked like binge eating, but he had savored every bite, leaving him thoroughly satisfied.

“Would you like some more?”
“No, as tempting as it is, too much of a good thing can make it lose its charm.”
“Then I’ll bring you a cup of warm tea.”

The knight left the room, and Ihan thought she seemed like a decent person.

“I can’t believe she’s related to you. She’s so polite and hardworking.”
“…”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“…That vicious thing has never treated me like this, tch.”
“??”

The spear-wielding knight seemed annoyed by her behavior, and Ihan shrugged, wondering why anyone would complain about having such a thoughtful younger sister.

‘Ungrateful brat.’

What a sour personality.

Then again—

‘Given the killing intent he carries, I guess it’s no surprise he’s so twisted.’

Ihan glanced at Huey, who was still passed out on the floor, foaming at the mouth.

His face was frozen in terror, as if he’d had a near-death experience.

Not that Ihan particularly cared whether a mage had faced death or lost a limb.

But what did interest him was the ‘technique’ the spear-wielding knight had displayed.

‘It’s like he projected killing intent to make his opponent feel pain and fear—almost as if it were real….’

It seemed as though he had induced an illusion of ‘death.’

‘Is that even possible?’

Even with immense killing intent, using it as an actual form of attack seemed unbelievable.

It wasn’t like those fictional martial arts realms where ‘thought equals death.’

‘Hmph. Is it just a natural talent?’

An overwhelming aura and murderous intent like his weren’t something one could acquire just by surviving battlefields.

It felt more innate—almost supernatural.

Could it be—

‘Is this guy one of the Heavenly Killers?’

One of the Thirty-Six Heavenly Stars, born under ominous constellations and said to bring disaster.

But Ihan quickly dismissed the thought.

‘…I must still be tired.’

He let out a small chuckle, brushing off his wild imagination.

This was a romance fantasy world.

There was no way such absurd martial arts nonsense could exist here.

‘Yeah, no way.’

Shaking his head, Ihan decided not to dwell on the ridiculous idea any longer.

*****

“Are you done playing around now?”
“Yeah, I’m done.”
“……”
“What?”
“…I guess I shouldn’t expect normal conversations with you.”
“Quit picking fights. So, did you read my notebook properly?”
“……”
“You think I wouldn’t notice you sneaking a peek?”
“Hmph….”

Even as the spear-wielder fidgeted awkwardly, Ihan remained calm.

He had already expected this outcome.

There was no way this guy had brought him to Galahad’s safehouse out of friendship.

Clearly—

‘He wanted the information I gathered.’

Too bad for him.

“…I couldn’t make sense of half of it.”
“Shameless bastard.”
“……I’ll deliver milk to your house every week.”
“…Why is that so tempting?”

Ihan doubted the guy could decipher much of the notebook’s contents anyway.

He had intentionally scribbled parts of it to make it unreadable.

Not in the language of his past life, of course—doing that would’ve made him look like a linguistic genius.

Instead, he used a combination of military ciphers and Morse code he’d learned during his time as a soldier.

For the record, Morse code existed in this world too.

So why couldn’t this guy read it?

“What does ‘swimming upstream like salmon’ even mean?”
“It’s a song lyric.”
“A song?”
“Yeah, songs like that exist.”
“…And ‘I’ll live, I’ll live’?”
“That’s a poem.”
“……You’re surprisingly artsy for how you look.”
“What’s wrong with how I look?”
“……”
“Hey! Answer me!”

Believe it or not, in his past life, Ihan might have become a poet instead of a soldier—if only his family had been wealthy enough.