Glenn accepted the metal “pen,” a strange little thing with fine apertures at both ends.

  “Though it looks like a pen, it’s far from what I had in mind,” he said helplessly.

  These magic apprentices all seemed remarkably handy with their crafts, yet none ever bothered to clarify the requirements before acting on their own assumptions.

  Lucas, scratching his head, murmured, “I thought this was exactly what you meant.”

  “You were too hasty. Its inner structure is fairly intricate. I’ll sketch it out—this time, listen carefully.”

  Glenn found a sheet of scrap paper, took up his feather quill, and began sketching the structure and principles of a fountain pen from memory, explaining the function of each component as he drew.

  Lucas, a natural scholar with an almost stubborn devotion to truth, listened with growing fascination, as though each word opened a new door of knowledge.

  When Glenn finished his rough explanation, Lucas immediately fetched a fresh set of materials and began casting spells again.

  Piece by piece, the components of a rather convincing fountain pen emerged. Glenn tried assembling them, only to find various mismatches in size and proportion.

  Lucas continued refining each part during assembly, and at last they produced a finished piece.

  Glenn quickly retrieved some ink, dipped the nib until it had drawn up enough, and tested a few strokes on the paper.

  “It leaks a little,” he said, “but it works.” Somewhat satisfied, he held up the half-finished pen and added, “Thank you, Lucas. This will make my studies much easier.”

  Lucas gazed at the pen, lost in some private thought. Hearing Glenn’s words, he smiled. “It’s nothing. But I believe a thing should be done properly. Little Leaf and the others could use something like this too—I should perfect the design for them.”

  “This won’t delay your experiments?” Glenn asked.

  Lucas shook his head. “My experiments can be paused at any time. It won’t hinder anything.”

  “Then I wish you success,” Glenn said before taking his leave.

  He still had assignments to finish.

  …

  Batsey, Main City.

  Within the Lauberne estate.

  Perlnas lifted her skirts and half-ran down the corridor, excitement brightening her face.

  Ahead appeared Lady Ania, just returning from a ball, a touch of weariness still lingering in her eyes.

  Seeing her daughter rushing toward her, Ania greeted her with a gentle smile.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Mother,” Perlnas said, embracing her before stepping back, joy sparkling in her gaze. “Mother, the maid told me—the invading demons have been pushed back. Does this mean we can finally go home?”

  Ania paused, then, seeing her daughter’s hopeful expression, answered with words that immediately dashed those hopes:

  “I heard the same at the ball. But our home there suffered heavy damage in the attack. We cannot return—not yet. There would be nowhere to live.”

  Their house was in a village across from Baieck, with Dood standing between them—three towns aligned in a neat, straight line.

  Otherwise Glenn would never have encountered their carriage on his way back home.

  Because their village had no school, Perlnas had always gone to Dood for her studies. As for Baieck, anyone passing by would simply see desolate wilderness—without guidance, no one would imagine a town hidden within it.

  But without Baieck’s protections, their original village had been savaged by the demons’ rampage.

  Perlnas’s smile vanished. “Then we can stay at an inn—or buy another house. I don’t want to remain here another day!”

  “A few more days,” Ania coaxed gently. “I’ll purchase a new home there, but that area is still undergoing cleanup. Many knights have gathered, and it would be quite inconvenient for us to go now.”

  “I can’t endure it anymore!” Perlnas burst out. “That wretch keeps coming to bother me! Every time I hear his voice I feel like I’m going to break!”

  The golden-haired noble girl crouched down, hands clutching her head, trembling as she wept.

  Ania’s usually composed face softened completely. She lowered herself beside her daughter and whispered, “My dear girl… I will never allow that bothersome fly to come near you. Hasn’t Lauberne turned him away every time? He hasn’t even seen you once.”

  “But just hearing him frightens me… even knowing he’s outside makes my skin crawl…”

  It was Punk family’s eldest son, Homitt. Each time Lauberne forced him out with various excuses, he would bellow Perlnas’s name at the top of his lungs, shouting nauseating declarations meant to charm her.

  In an estate this small, one only had to stand nearby to hear everything.

  Even the servants found the young noble repulsive—much less Perlnas, who despised him to the core.

  As if summoned by their very conversation, Homitt’s voice boomed from outside: “I am Homitt, eldest son of the Punk family! How dare you bar my entry! Where is Lauberne? Bring him here! I’m here as a guest!”

  Perlnas screamed and fled toward her room.

  Lady Ania rose sharply, frost hardening her expression.

  Lauberne was away at a friend’s banquet and had yet to return. Whether by coincidence or design, Homitt had clearly chosen this moment.

  Outside the estate gates, several armored household guards blocked Homitt’s path, looking conflicted and troubled.

  Homitt, in a fury, treated them not as another household’s retainers but as his own servants—kicking and striking at will.

  “Homitt! What do you think you’re doing?!” A commanding female voice cut through the chaos, stopping his raised hand mid-swing.

  Homitt turned, and upon seeing Lady Ania, his face brightened in a grotesque attempt at charm. He removed his hat and bowed.

  “Lady Ania, it is an honor. You grow ever more radiant and noble.”

  “Homitt,” Ania said coldly, her voice carrying the full weight of authority, “you know my daughter cannot stand the sight of you. Why do you persist in coming?”

  A sheen of nervous sweat broke over Homitt’s forehead. He had imagined that with only two women at home, he might finally lay eyes on the girl who haunted his dreams—but reality was far less accommodating.

  “Well, you see,” he began, forcing sincerity into every word, “my father is away in the capital with my third brother. While at home, I thought long and hard about how to earn Perlnas’s forgiveness. At last I found an answer, so I’ve brought gifts. My lady, please—grant me a chance to see her, just once!”

  His expression was all earnest devotion, but Ania was not so easily deceived—his infamous reputation was known even to toddlers.

  “Enough. Your character is known to everyone—even the children. Do not insult me with lies. And my daughter is not here. She went to the banquet with Lauberne.”

  Homitt smiled thinly. “I find that hard to believe—unless you allow me inside to confirm it.”

  “No.” Ania’s refusal cracked like ice.

  But Homitt only drew a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs:

  “Perlnas! My dearest! Come out and see me!”

  Ania’s face flushed with fury.