26 July 2001, Aveon Era, Third Epoch.
Caleric stood before a towering mirror. It was not an ordinary pane of glass, but an ornate dressing mirror which seemed to belong to a race that dwarfed humankind fourfold. It reflected a breathtaking beauty—his own face.
Every time Caleric looked at the mirror, he found it difficult to believe that it was his own face, and his next thoughts were always about questioning his gender.
Caleric was getting ready for the banquet. Although he didn't want to attend, he couldn't do anything; inside the Gnalet mansion, even though he possessed considerable authority, he couldn't possibly go against the master of the house. A few maids were gathered around Caleric, dressing him up. After all, it was important for the birthday boy to make a lasting impression on the guests.
Caleric had no actual experience of attending large-scale parties; however, he understood a few things very well. Big banquets; those at the level of nobles; were more than just for enjoying while sipping wine and chatting with friends. These banquets served the purpose of building social relations that might prove worthy in the long run. And so, what Aron actually meant by holding this birthday banquet was to let Caleric be formally introduced to society. Even though Caleric already had a big name, a formal introduction was necessary.
Earlier, while reviewing the guest list for the evening's banquet, Caleric had taken note of several high-profile individuals whose presence elevated the event. Among them was Mr. Joseph Pristine—currently the largest shareholder in the Northern Bank and a controlling stakeholder in over ten corporate entities scattered across the northern continent. Most notably, his newly launched firm, PNI, had recently secured the exclusive patent for manufacturing mana pens. The patent alone was valued at an astronomical 2000 Crowns, underscoring the sheer economic leverage PNI now held in the markets.
Another particularly notable attendee was Fera Hisaf, a seated member of Virelia's Central Circle—a council known not just for policy-making but for quietly manipulating power across multiple provinces. There were other names, too each with their own political weight, economic capital, or influence in regional matters. The cumulative presence of such elite figures had led Caleric to wonder whether the Gnalet mansion, despite its grandeur, could truly be considered a suitable venue for hosting individuals of this echelon.
Apart from this, there was one particular name on the list that had momentarily left Caleric stunned: Saint Clover, the highest-ranking authority within the Clover Cathedral.
The title "Saint Clover" was not a personal name but a revered designation, ceremonially passed down from one saint to the next. The true name of the saint was a closely guarded secret. In fact, speaking or recording the real name of a reigning saint was strictly forbidden and even punishable by law. As a result, saints were referred to only as "Saint" followed by the name of their Cathedral—Clover, in this case.
Why would a saint attend a very normal birthday banquet? Caleric pondered over the many questions he had in his mind while the maids dressed him. After he was ready he looked into the mirror.
The mirror reflected a figure dressed to perfection. Caleric wore a deep blue suit. It was finely tailored and was clearly expensive. It was the kind that caught the eye of everyone around.
His black hair were tied back in a simple ponytail and fell just past his neck. And then there was his face. Not just handsome, not quite feminine, but something in between that made people look twice. He looked like someone the room would stop for the moment he walked in.
It was also only now that he realized he was wearing make-up. The quality of cosmetics in this world felt somewhat similar to Earth, at least from what Caleric could tell. He didn't have any real experience with make-up, so it was hard to judge whether the products here were better or worse than those from his own world. Subconsciously, he leaned toward the latter.
"Is it common for noblemen to wear make-up?" Caleric asked the maid who had just finished with his face.
"No. But it looks good on you, young master."
Caleric felt a flicker of annoyance. Of course he knew that even back on Earth, some men wore make-up, after all, it enhanced one's appearance by several degrees. It was no different from wearing a mask, a layer to obscure the truth beneath. But the way the maid had said that, it was as if she truly saw him as overly feminine.
I pledge that I shall never lose my manliness.
After dressing up the birthday boy the maids left, leaving Caleric alone who was still admiring his silhouette in the mirror.
So the main problem now is that I have to attend this grand event with over a hundred guests, and frankly, the only people I've spoken to in the past two years are Mom and our old neighbor. I won't pass out at the sight of so many people, right? How did I even end up like this?
Caleric sighed heavily. He had already made up his mind.
I'm going to assume that some god gave me this new life, so I must not repeat the same mistakes. Fine, I'll try my best.
I also have to act like Caleric. If I make mistakes, someone might catch on. I'm not saying it's likely that anyone could logically detect the differences, but I'm more wary of the people close to Caleric, like Cally, sensing something instinctively off about me. And maybe, just maybe, I might actually slip up and make visible mistakes around too many people. I've been preparing myself for the past few hours, but I don't think it was enough.
...
Guests had begun arriving one by one, their arcavels lined up outside the mansion gates like a procession of prestige and power.
Servants waited at the gates to receive the guests, offering respectful bows and guiding them. Inside, the main hall stood ready—vast, opulent, and glowing with chandeliers—large enough to comfortably host a hundred guests. Caleric stood near the center, flanked by Aron and Silv, prepared to greet each guest personally.
The hall had various asymmetrically arranged round tables, each draped with fine silk tablecloths. Each table could seat five people. Caleric had counted and there were twenty-two in total. Even with all the tables in place, there was still ample room to walk around comfortably, which made Caleric realize that the hall was even more massive than he had previously assumed.
The Gnalet household had a large number of servants, including five maids who were all assigned to take care of the children. When Caleric and Cally were adopted, there had only been two. By the time the twins, Mari and Mira, were born, Aron and Silv decided it was necessary to hire more maids.
Aside from the maids, almost all other servants were male. They were responsible for daily chores like cleaning. The entire mansion had only a single cook. This was mostly due to his exceptional cooking skills—other cooks had difficulty keeping up with him. He had even mentioned once that other cooks only dragged him down.
A majority of the servant staff was made up of gardeners. Aron and Silv both took great pride in the mansion's beautiful garden, which was also its most eye-catching feature. To keep it in its best condition, Aron had hired ten full-time gardeners.
However, during special occasions, Aron would hire extra help. In addition to the usual ten male servants, twenty more were brought in. All of them were dressed in black and white, like traditional butlers. The maids were not allowed downstairs during such events and remained on the first or second floor.
The mansion had three floors. The ground floor was used primarily for hosting events. The first floor housed the family's bedrooms and other utility rooms, such as the infirmary, a large library, and several living spaces. The second floor was designated as the servants' quarters.
"Aron! It has been a while," a man dressed in formal attire walked up to him.
"And you have not changed a bit." He was one of Aron's old friends. After a brief chat with Aron and offering his wishes to Caleric, he moved on to mingle with the other guests, careful not to keep Aron occupied for too long as he understood that the event was grand on a whole different magnitude.
"Who was that?" Caleric asked, having observed the man from head to toe and found nothing particularly noteworthy. He wasn't curious. He asked only to stay in character. The original Caleric would definitely have asked the same question.
"Not someone important."
Caleric was stunned for a moment. Then he understood how Aron had reached the position he held. During their earlier conversation, he had assumed that Aron and the man were genuinely close friends, but Aron's reply just now said otherwise. He was good at wearing a mask when needed.
Caleric also realized that he must have been more nervous than he thought, to have failed to see through Aron's act.
"Though I'm glad you're trying to learn about new people," Aron added. He had previously asked Caleric who was an introverted manalogy freak to do his best to mingle with the guests.
In no time, the hall was full of guests, and the atmosphere turned cheerful. People were chatting in every direction.
Servants moved quickly between the tables, carrying trays loaded with starters and drinks. There was red wine, of course, and the more expensive Coscore wine. Golden Herelius sparkled in its glass. Alongside those were milkshakes for the kids, and a few other strange-looking juices which made Caleric really curious.
A few women in elegant dresses stood chatting by the sides, and sharply dressed men worked the room with well-practiced smiles. Children were already running around the tables, ignoring the fact that this was supposed to be a high-class event.
And above it all, the huge golden chandelier lit the hall in a soft glow, making everything feel just a bit too perfect.
Caleric was already tired from having to meet so many people at once, and then came Joseph Pristine. To his surprise, Pristine looked completely ordinary. Caleric had expected someone that rich to look sharp or intimidating, maybe even a little otherworldly. But he looked like a regular man in a decent suit.
"Happy Birthday, Caleric!" Pristine shouted from the main door. He hadn't even stepped inside yet, and somehow had already made sure everyone knew he had arrived. Strangely, no one looked surprised. It was like they all expected this kind of entrance from him.
Despite being one of the richest people in the world, Pristine had this easygoing, loud personality that clashed with everything Caleric thought he knew about powerful people. It felt unreal.
"Caleric, do you remember me? We met when you were still working on calculating the speed of manacules using that weird device Cally created. Uh, you were twelve years old."
Pristine had come to Virelia about six years ago for work-related reasons, and during a short visit to his friend Aron, he had coincidentally crossed paths with Caleric, who at the time was deep into a groundbreaking research.
"How could I forget? I even ignored you. I must apologize for my behavior from six years ago."
"Haha, you were a little kid. Look at you now, all grown up. Aron and Silv have done a good job raising you and your sister… right, where is your sister?"
"I'd like to know that too," Caleric said, turning to Silv, who also seemed just as clueless.
"Probably in the garden, outside," Aron guessed.
Huh?
"That's very much like her," Pristine said, completely unfazed. He had heard the rumors. Cally wasn't exactly the traditional noble daughter. She was a rebel—a prodigy rebel.