Elara lifted her gaze, her calm expression still intact.
"If it is not too presumptuous…" she began softly, "may I have time to think this over? I would like to consult with my father before giving you an answer."
Her request was polite, reasonable, even.
But Aizen McKenzie was not known for patience.
He rested his elbow lightly on the table, chin tilted as he looked at her.
"No," he said simply. "I expect a decision here."
Veronica's eyes widened.
"Aizen, that isn't fair."
Aizen didn't even glance at her at first.
His gaze stayed fixed on Elara as though testing her reaction, gauging whether calmness could endure pressure.
Elara remained still, eyes lowered, waiting, undaunted.
Veronica clenched her fist.
"You can't demand an answer on the spot. She deserves the chance to think it through."
Aizen finally turned his head toward her, in the past, this look would have silenced entire Veronica in the past but today Veronica didn't back down.
She met his stare with rare defiance, protective, frustrated, but steady.
For a brief moment, the two locked eyes, silent tension thickening between them.
And then Aizen sighed with a reluctant concession.
"…Very well," he said at last, leaning back with a lazy wave of his hand. "If you require time, Elara, take it."
Both women blinked, Elara with quiet surprise, Veronica with outright shock.
Veronica stared at her brother.
"You… agreed?"
Her disbelief was almost comical.
Aizen shrugged with feigned disinterest. "I'm not unreasonable."
Veronica nearly choked on those words.
But Aizen kept his face perfectly composed, as though conceding had always been part of his flawless plan.
Elara bowed her head elegantly.
"Thank you, Lord Aizen. I will return with my answer."
Aizen lifted his cup and took a slow sip, arrogance radiating through every movement.
"Do as you wish," he said.
Elara rose gracefully from her seat, smoothing the folds of her dress.
A maid hurried to open the door, and she stepped through the reception room with her quiet, steady elegance.
Before leaving the estate, she turned to Veronica and offered a gentle smile.
"Thank you for the warm hospitality, Lady Veronica. You have been nothing but considerate."
Veronica brightened immediately, bowing slightly.
"Oh—of course! Please don't mind my brother, he's just—"
She cut herself off, glancing sideways at Aizen, who was sipping his tea.
Veronica leaned closer to Elara and whispered just loud enough that Aizen could hear if he chose to, "He doesn't know what he's doing half the time."
Elara, ever composed, simply smiled.
"I appreciate your sincerity," she said. "I will return after speaking with my father."
Veronica nodded, relief evident.
"Please take your time. Don't feel pressured by him."
Aizen's crimson gaze flicked toward her at that comment.
Veronica pretended not to notice.
With a final elegant bow, Elara stepped into her waiting carriage.
The door closed softly behind her, and moments later the wheels began turning, carrying her away from the McKenzie estate.
Veronica exhaled deeply.
"Honestly… Brother, you—"
She stopped mid-sentence as she looked at him fully, aware of how unusual his behavior had been earlier.
Her brows furrowed in confusion.
"Brother… did you perhaps set your eyes on another girl?"
Aizen leaned back in his chair, finishing the last of his tea, he then set down his teacup with a soft clink.
"It's none of your concern," he said coldly.
Veronica let out an exasperated breath. "Aizen—!"
He paused.
Then, slowly, he lifted his gaze and fixed it on her.
"…Perhaps," he muttered, "it's something you should start being concerned about."
Veronica froze.
Her expression shifted, at first it was confusion and then it slowly flicker of fear.
This wasn't the usual arrogant dismissal instead this felt like a warning.
Aizen stood, brushing off an invisible speck from his coat.
"Meet me in my office tonight."
Veronica blinked.
"Your… office? Tonight?"
He turned toward the entrance of the estate, steps purposeful.
"I need to go out for business right now."
"Right now? Why?" she echoed, startled.
He stopped just long enough to glance back at her with chilling indifference.
"It's none of your concern."
His voice dropped, smooth and commanding.
"Leave."
Veronica swallowed, momentarily speechless.
Aizen looked at her for a quiet moment before turning away, calling for his butler to prepare the carriage.
Without another word, he left her standing there in the lingering hush of their conversation.
A short while later, the carriage wheels clattered rhythmically along the cobblestone road as they descended from the McKenzie estate toward the town.
Inside, Aizen sat across from his butler, arms crossed, posture impeccable as always.
But his eyes were fixed on the faintly glowing system window hovering in his sight.
Mana: 950 / 950
Daily Loss: 10
Joon-ho suppressed a grimace beneath Aizen's composed façade.
950 mana.
A Master Mage with less mana than an apprentice barely a week into training.
This is way too low. If someone tests me, I'd be dead.
The town ahead was bustling, smoke rising from chimneys, merchants shouting prices, children weaving through crowds.
At its center, looming over the rooftops, stood the mage tower, tall, spiraling upward like a needle meant to pierce the sky.
If there was information on mana degeneration, it would probably be there.
Aizen narrowed his eyes, already forming a plan.
But then a shimmer caught the edge of his vision.
A golden light, brief, warm, almost pulsing from a small side street shop as they passed.
"Did you see that?" Aizen said sharply.
The butler blinked and leaned slightly to look out the window. "See what, my lord?"
Aizen's gaze sharpened. So only I can see it? System-related? Magic anomaly? Either way, it can't be ignored.
He raised his hand, voice cold and decisive.
"Driver. Stop the carriage and turn around. Head toward that shop."
The driver did not question him.
He simply obeyed, reins clicking as the horses shifted direction.
The butler also remained silent, unlike Veronica, he was well-trained enough never to probe Aizen's whims.
Within moments, the carriage pulled up before the modest storefront.
A small wooden sign hung above the door, faded and unassuming.
Yet now the golden glow flickered again, only for his eyes, he instinctively gulped.