I couldn’t remember how I had ended the imperial ball and returned home.

The important thing was that my plan to successfully connect Noxia and Rohel had completely failed.

‘Isn’t this deviating too much from the original plot?’

The protagonists, who were originally supposed to feel affection for each other, had now become awkward around one another.

Noxia, having heard those words, would no longer trust Rohel, and Rohel had grown uncomfortable toward her.

‘Is the male protagonist of the novel changing? Or will things connect in another way?’

Ah, I didn’t know.

My head was far too tangled.

All I wanted was a peaceful life. I worried that the altered storyline, caused by the changed original plot, might affect that.

‘Why on earth did Rohel have that conversation there, where anyone could overhear? And why did Noxia go looking for me? If I wasn’t at the ballroom, couldn’t she just assume I wasn’t there?’

Though my resentment drifted toward them, it didn’t erase what had already happened.

The water had already been spilled, and I had to accept it somehow.

‘No matter how well I know the original plot, I can’t control every situation.’

This was the lesson I had firmly grasped through this incident.

Human relationships were too complex and delicate—even the slightest misstep could send things veering off in an entirely different direction.

If I had to pinpoint it, my own actions—different from those of the original Tanashia—had also contributed.

The original Tanashia would have made every effort to mingle with others at the ball, but my choice had been different.

I never expected that small choice would lead Noxia to come searching for me.

Moreover, I hadn’t anticipated that Noxia, unlike in the original plot, would gather everyone to one spot—and that Rohel would coincidentally be standing right there.

Honestly, I could only describe it as terrible luck. But for me, this wasn’t something I could just shrug off—my life was at stake.

I clearly knew a death route awaited me in the future; I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.

‘Indeed, people cannot be trusted.’

I had tried to quickly connect Noxia and Rohel to solidify the relationship between House Brellof and the imperial family, thereby preventing war—but I was wrong.

People’s hearts could change at any moment. Since I couldn’t possibly know their innermost thoughts, I couldn’t risk my life on such uncertainty.

‘To prevent the war with Calua Empire, I need something more certain.’

Something not as elusive as human hearts—something I could reliably obtain through effort.

Since this concerned nothing less than my own survival, I seriously pondered it.

Just then.

Knock, knock. From beyond the door came Jelin’s voice along with a knock.

“Young Lady, the tutor has arrived.”

Come to think of it, today was the day I was supposed to have lessons with Matela.

Though it was nice being acknowledged as a genius, I currently had no time to dwell on that.

I’d probably have to make up an excuse about feeling unwell and postpone the lesson to another day.

“Bring her in for now.”

“Yes, Young Lady.”

After hearing Jelin’s reply, Matela soon entered.

I deliberately turned to look at her with an expression of exhaustion.

Unlike usual, Matela carried an enormous pile of materials in both arms—so much that her face was barely visible.

“Teacher, what are all these?”

“Ah, these are materials to help you decide on your future career path.”

“My career path?”

“Yes, I heard from Lord Orland that you’re still contemplating your future, so I brought these along.”

Hearing that, I recalled the conversation I’d had with Orland over dinner.

─I don’t think it’s good to let your talent go to waste, but I won’t disregard your opinion either. From now on, seriously consider your future. I’ll do my best to accommodate your wishes.

─Ah, yes. Once I find the answer, I’ll be sure to tell you first.

Even if I no longer hid the fact that I was a genius, studying still encompassed many different fields.

I needed to decide on a direction before I could take appropriate lessons.

“But this is already…”

I tried to say it was too early, but Matela, busy laying out the materials, seemed not to hear me.

Regardless of my opinion, the materials Matela brought were being unfolded one by one.

Medicine, law, research…

Countless fields appeared before me.

“You’re not planning to explain all of these today, are you?”

“It seems we won’t have enough time today to cover everything. I’ll continue with the rest during the next lesson.”

“No, I meant…”

I was about to say I felt unwell and couldn’t take the lesson today.

Then something caught my eye.

[Magic Engineering].

It was an unfamiliar term. Magic and engineering? They seemed like an odd combination.

Without realizing it, I began reading the description beneath “Magic Engineering”—and found it intriguing.

[Weapon Development], [War Preparation], [Military Strengthening].

Words that appealed directly to me, someone desperate to prevent the future war with Calua Empire.

I quickly pointed to the section labeled “Magic Engineering” and asked Matela.

“What’s this?”

Only then, after finishing laying out all the materials, did Matela wipe the sweat from her brow and reply.

“Ah, you’re asking about Magic Engineering. Briefly put, it’s a field focused on developing weapons for warfare.”

Weapons for war—those words instantly sparked an idea.

‘What if I develop weapons capable of standing against Calua Empire?’

As long as Ascan remained within House Brellof, Calua Empire’s human weapon experiments wouldn’t easily succeed.

But I couldn’t ignore the worst-case scenario.

If, by any means, their human weapon experiment succeeded, Calua Empire would start a war—so if I could create weapons to counter that before then, I could change many things.

‘This is it!’

Something I could reliably obtain through effort.

At the imperial ball, Noxia and Rohel’s first meeting had gone awry, and how the original plot would change remained uncertain.

In such an unpredictable situation, it felt as if a lifeline had been thrown down to save me.

“I suppose I ended up including Magic Engineering materials while gathering various resources. Please don’t pay too much attention, Young Lady. It’s a niche field, and not really suitable for you…”

“No, I’ve made up my mind.”

“What?”

“I’ve decided to study Magic Engineering from now on. I’m going to create the most powerful weapon in the world.”

“Eh?”

Matela seemed startled by my unexpected declaration. Looking flustered, she hurriedly showed me other materials and spoke again.

“But please take a look at these others too…”

“I’ve decided on Magic Engineering as my career path. Looking at other things won’t change my mind.”

Faced with my firm resolve, Matela reluctantly nodded.

I was the eldest daughter of House Brellof. I already possessed wealth so vast I could never spend it all in a lifetime—so I had no need to choose a field with a bright future.

Of course, Matela probably hadn’t considered that. She likely just wished for me, as a noble young lady, to pursue more elegant scholarly studies.

If I had a long lifespan, I might have chosen a more conventional field—but right now, survival mattered more than anything else.

If I could help prevent the war, I had no reason to hesitate.

“Teacher, when can we start lessons on Magic Engineering? I’m ready to begin right now.”

Truthfully, during Matela’s previous lessons, I’d always been lost in thought. Now, my attitude toward studying had completely reversed 180 degrees.

Perhaps unaccustomed to this new attitude of mine, Matela smiled awkwardly and said,

“I didn’t expect you to decide so quickly, so starting lessons immediately might be difficult. We’d also need to arrange for a specialist teacher in Magic Engineering…”

“Yes, please bring the most skilled teacher available.”

I didn’t care how much the tuition cost. If necessary, I was even willing to build a research laboratory.

I wouldn’t know how talented I’d be in Magic Engineering until I tried—but right now, I burned with enthusiasm for this newfound goal.

“Ah, I promised Father I’d tell him first once I decided on my career path. I should write him a letter requesting full support for my studies.”

“Ah, Lord Orland will surely be delighted to hear you’ve chosen your path.”

“Since we won’t have a lesson today anyway, could you wait for me a moment?”

And so, I began writing a letter to Orland.

Though the time for war was still distant, every second felt urgent to me.

Arwen Empire, slum district.

Two mysterious men appeared in a village near the border.

In just half a day, they had scrutinized all the local boys around fifteen years of age, then said,

“Doesn’t seem to be here either.”

His name was Tendai. The large scar across his face marked him as a seasoned swordsman who had once belonged to Calua Empire’s knight order.

Frustrated at having missed their target again, Andro, standing beside him, kicked the ground in anger.

“Subject 13, where the hell did that rat bastard hide?”

Unlike Tendai, a formally trained knight, Andro had worked as a mercenary for years—his swordsmanship matched only by his expertise in tracking.

The “Subject 13” they referred to was the designation assigned to Ascan by Calua Empire’s laboratory.

It held no special meaning—merely the sequential number given based on order of experimentation. Ascan had been the thirteenth child among thousands of test subjects to enter the facility.

Yes—they were pursuers hunting the escaped Ascan.

“We already knew he wasn’t ordinary when he broke through our encirclement and fled the lab, but I didn’t expect him to vanish without a trace.”

Hearing Tendai’s calm remark, Andro gritted his teeth and replied,

“Dozens of our comrades died when Subject 13 escaped. Just you wait—if we find him, I’ll tear him to pieces.”

“Set aside personal feelings. According to higher-ups, the abilities Subject 13 displayed back then were astonishing. If we recapture him, they say experiments can accelerate.”

Neither Tendai nor Andro had witnessed Ascan’s escape firsthand, but they’d heard plenty of accounts.

They said Ascan’s body couldn’t be wounded by swords or arrows, and that he freely controlled inextinguishable flames—like a demon risen from hell itself.

Only ashes remained wherever he passed, and almost no one survived.

“So what if his power is monstrous? With this, he won’t be able to use any of it.”

Andro pulled out a small glass vial from his coat and showed it briefly. The violet liquid inside radiated an unmistakably mystical aura.

“So this is the rumored sedative, then.”

“Exactly. With this, test subjects become completely powerless.”

Andro grinned sinisterly, as if struck by a thought, and continued,

“We only need to keep Subject 13 barely alive. Even if he’s missing an arm or leg, it won’t interfere with the experiments.”

Tendai offered no reply. It wasn’t exactly a wrong statement.

Their sole objective was to find Ascan and bring him back—there was no stipulation that he needed to be physically intact.

“Ah! Do you know why Subject 13 suddenly escaped?”

Tendai shook his head at Andro’s question.

“How could we possibly know what a test subject is thinking? Maybe he just hated being there.”

No one would willingly choose a life of experimentation—so no one had bothered asking why Ascan fled.

Andro clicked his tongue regretfully.

“If we knew why he ran, we could tailor our search accordingly.”

“Stop wasting time on useless thoughts. Let’s move to the next location.”

As Tendai spoke, he simultaneously fired a signal flare.

Whoosh─!

White smoke instantly shot skyward.

The rule was: fire a white flare if Ascan wasn’t found; fire a red flare if he was located.

Soon after Tendai’s flare, white flares erupted in the distance as well.

Naturally, Tendai and Andro weren’t the only ones chasing Ascan. Dozens of specialists were secretly mobilized across the region.

As more white flares signaled failure to locate Ascan, Andro joked,

“Are we going to end up chasing him all the way to Arwen Empire’s capital?”

Tendai glanced briefly toward the capital’s direction and replied,

“Wherever he’s hiding, it doesn’t matter. It’ll just take a bit longer—we’ll find him no matter what.”

“Heh heh.”

Andro chuckled amusedly.

And just like that, the two vanished in an instant.

No trace remained in the Arwen Empire village to indicate Tendai and Andro had ever been there.

“Ascan─!”

Ascan, walking along the path, turned his head at the sound of his name.

Ascan—the very person Tendai, Andro, and countless pursuers were hunting—was hiding in a place and under an identity no one would ever suspect.

He was currently serving as a page in the household of Marquis Brellof, a grand noble of Arwen Empire.

This was precisely why, even after Tanashia discovered his true identity, he hadn’t easily fled.

The one calling him was Rella, a maid of House Brellof. She was a woman in her mid-thirties with an eight-year-old son.

“Sorry, but could you watch my son for a moment? I’ve got things to do today, and this little rascal followed me here without a care.”

Ascan’s gaze naturally drifted to the eight-year-old boy clinging to Rella’s skirt.

He’d seen the child’s face a few times while passing by. The boy had come to Brellof Mansion with Rella before, just like now.

“Rella! Rella!”

Just then, a distant voice calling for Rella was heard.

Startled by the call, Rella hastily pushed her son toward Ascan.

“Just for a moment, please!”

“Ah, I…”

Ascan belatedly tried to refuse, but Rella was already far away.

Ascan looked down at the boy now clutching his pant leg. An eight-year-old boy with bright, sparkling eyes gazed up at him.

“Brother?”

His lisping pronunciation alone made his young age obvious.

Ascan stared at the boy with a momentarily awkward expression, then asked,

“…What’s your name?”

“Me? Ette.”

“Ette?”

“No, Eee tteu.”

The boy’s pronunciation was unclear, but Ascan easily deduced his name.

“Your name is Ed, right?”

“Yeah!”

When Ascan guessed correctly, Ed beamed widely and nodded vigorously.

For an instant, Ed’s face overlapped in Ascan’s mind with the face of a child he’d met in the laboratory.

─Brother, brother, I’m Subject 1890.

He didn’t know that child’s real name or exact age—only that he’d been called Subject 1890.

Ascan hadn’t escaped the laboratory without reason.

It was simply that no one had ever cared to ask—and no one had ever tried to find out.