Professor Olan entered the parlor, led by the butler, Martin, with Rector and two Tower magicians trailing behind him.
Not long after, Penelope, now changed into her casual clothes, arrived at the parlor, followed closely by Ahwin.
“Gasp...!”
The moment Ahwin appeared, the three magicians, including Rector, widened their eyes in shock. Rector, in particular, couldn’t hide his astonishment. The Ahwin standing before him looked completely different from the last time they parted ways—healthy and unscathed.
As the cold air around Ahwin threatened to freeze the atmosphere, Penelope stepped in with her usual diplomacy.
“Professor Olan, you truly did come back in just a week.”
“I told you I would, didn’t I? I’m a man who keeps his promises,” Olan replied confidently with a smile.
Penelope nodded, letting out a small “ah” of understanding. Soon, Olan’s expression grew slightly awkward as he introduced the magicians standing beside him.
“These are magicians from the Tower. It seems they’ve come to meet Lord Ahwin.”
In other words, they were Ahwin’s followers. Ahwin’s expression grew even colder.
Penelope greeted Rector politely.
“It’s been a while, Rector. Has everything been well?”
“Ah, so I wasn’t mistaken! Lady Penelope, is that you? What brings you here?”
“...”
Does he not read the news?
Penelope was momentarily at a loss for words. She thought she was the most talked-about person in the capital these days, but apparently not.
“I have some personal matters, so I’m staying here for a while. And you, Rector, what brings you here?”
“Oh, I, uh... have my own reasons. But Lord Ahwin? It’s me, Rector. Don’t you even recognize me anymore?”
Rector waved his hand enthusiastically at Ahwin. Ahwin’s eyes flashed ominously.
“What exactly are you doing here? Didn’t I warn you not to come?”
“...”
“...”
At Ahwin’s words, the two magicians hiding behind Rector flinched. They immediately realized that Ahwin’s sharp tone was directed at them.
“Well, um, we just wanted to make sure the Tower Master was doing well...”
“Y-yes! We’re his loyal servants, willing to risk our lives to protect the Tower Master’s... I mean, safety and well-being...”
“Who’s protecting whom?” Ahwin’s low voice made the two magicians cower further.
‘They’re as disciplined as a pack of scared puppies.’
Though they looked young and composed on the surface, their inability to maintain composure at Ahwin’s slightest remark revealed their deep allegiance to him.
Suddenly, the magicians dropped to their knees.
“It’s all our fault! Please don’t abandon us!”
“Yes, please! If we’ve done anything wrong, just tell us, and we’ll fix it! We beg for your mercy...”
“What exactly is pitiable about you?” Ahwin’s question was ice-cold.
“...Pardon?”
“I asked, what’s so pitiable about you? You lot, who indulge in as much magic research as you like at the Tower and burn through expensive mana stones without a second thought?”
The magicians fell silent, as if their tongues had been tied. There was nothing they could say in their defense.
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In truth, they had come here impulsively, driven by a desperate desire to stay close to Ahwin, even if from a distance.
For magicians, studying magic was akin to uncovering the truths of the world. Magic dealt with the mana that formed the very fabric of existence. Reaching new heights in magical understanding was akin to a monk achieving enlightenment.
The fields they needed to study were endless—algebra, geometry, calculus, physics, astronomy, magical engineering, alchemy, geography, history, runes, ancient languages, and more. On top of that, they couldn’t neglect their practical magic training.
It was mind-bogglingly difficult.
Even things they thought they understood often turned out to be complete mysteries upon closer inspection. The desire to give up rose to their throats hundreds of times a day.
And then, like a blessing in a drought, news of the Tower Master had reached their ears.
Parched for knowledge and enlightenment, the magicians had rushed to their elders.
“I’m going to the capital.”
“I’d rather die in the Tower Master’s presence than live without him.”
The elder magician furrowed his brow.
“When the Tower Master last came to the Tower, what did he say? He said if we interfered, he’d kill us all this time, didn’t he? Does that mean nothing to you?”
“But we’re dying here! Just catching a glimpse of the Tower Master’s hair would help us breathe again!”
“Yes! If we could just see him, we might finally solve even one more magical formula!”
“Ugh, pull yourselves together, you magic-crazed, obsessive maniacs.”
As the saying goes, there’s no reasoning with madmen—especially not madmen obsessed with magic.
The elder magician, fed up, handed over the two most persistent magicians to Rector and hid himself in the upper levels of the Tower. Rector, caught off guard, ended up saddled with the whining duo.
And that, in a nutshell, was why Rector had come to Ahwin dragging along the two magicians.
With a heavy sigh, Rector tried to calm Ahwin’s anger.
“I brought them here under the condition that they will never interfere with your work. Use them as stable hands or servants if you’d like. You can even draft a magical contract to bind them.”
“Yes, we’ll do anything to help the Tower Master!”
“I’ll even lick your toes if you command it.”
Why the toes?
Ahwin’s face twisted in disgust.
Rector shot the magicians a glare, gesturing as if to say, One more word and I’ll kill you. The two quickly clamped their mouths shut.
Ahwin fixed his gaze on Rector and used magic to speak directly to his mind.
—Why’d you bring these brats? Do you want to die?
—They’re not brats. They’re some of the most talented prospects in the Tower. With proper guidance, one of them might even take over the Tower Master position someday.
—...
Ahwin’s brows furrowed deeply. Rector’s words implied that one of the two might inherit the Tower Master’s title.
Ahwin had spent the past six years clinging to that faint hope, teaching magicians, but none had been able to grasp even a fraction of his lessons.
—Do you really think, Rector, that I’ll manage to pass on the Tower Master title before I die?
—...At least you should try.
Rector cleared his throat awkwardly.
“If they so much as annoy me, I’ll send them straight back to the Tower.”
At that, both Rector and the magicians lit up with relief.
“Thank you!”
“We’ll be as quiet as mice!”
At that moment, Professor Olan timidly raised his hand.
“Then, may I show you what I’ve made?”
“Oh, I can’t wait to see it!” Penelope replied eagerly. She had been growing increasingly frustrated with the hassle of washing and drying her hair.
Knowing a hairdryer was being invented only made it harder to endure.
To Penelope, the lack of a hairdryer was the ultimate downside of living in this romance-fantasy world. Washing her hair was tedious enough, but drying it was pure torment.
From wringing out wet strands with a towel to applying fragrant oils and brushing endlessly, it was an ordeal akin to a religious ritual.
And that wasn’t even the end. Once her hair dried, she had to curl the ends into elegant shapes with a well-heated iron.
Even commoners here grow their hair long. Incredible.
If she hadn’t had maids to help her, Penelope would have chopped her hair off immediately.
“Here it is. Would you like to try it?”
Olan’s words snapped Penelope out of her thoughts.
Wow, this is really a hairdryer!
The device Olan handed her was strikingly similar to a modern hairdryer. It had an L-shaped body, a fan-like nozzle, and an air intake vent covered with a fine grid.
With an expectant expression, Penelope grabbed the handle. Compared to the prototype she’d seen before, it was much lighter and more ergonomic—easy to hold in one hand.
“Just press the button on the handle,” Olan instructed.
Penelope clicked the button, and a soft whirrr sounded.
At the same time, warm air gushed out of the nozzle.
“...!”
Penelope’s eyes widened in amazement.
It’s so quiet, yet the airflow is this strong.
“As you suggested, I added a feature to adjust the temperature of the air. If you push the small lever below the button all the way down, it blows cold air. Set it in the middle for moderately warm air, or push it all the way up for the hot air it’s currently emitting.”
Entranced, Penelope slid the lever to the lowest setting. Cold air flowed out, making her jaw drop in awe.
How on earth did he manage this in just one week?
It was so impressive that she wouldn’t have been surprised if Olan had made a deal with the devil.