I approached the sage.
His gaze was sharp, piercing through me as if he could read everything inside me—my love for Flora, my obsession, even my fanatical devotion.
“The gloves I was wearing. Where are they?”
As soon as I spoke, the sage slightly turned his head and let out a low groan.
His lips twisted.
The expression resembled a smile, but it quickly transformed into one of disdain and ridicule.
“What were you expecting from such a shabby thing?”
The sage’s voice was as cold and sharp as a blade.
I tried to let his words pass without reaction, but the mockery at the end of his sentence seemed to seep into my very bones.
“I examined it, and it was like watching an infant waving a sword, thinking they could cut through the world.”
The sage snorted as he pulled out the gloves.
With a sharp thud, he tossed them onto the table.
His gesture was casual, like discarding trash, but every movement carried an air of contempt.
“Suppress the power of a dragon?”
The sage lifted his head slightly, looking down at me.
“It’s an impossible delusion. No different from the foolishness of trying to cover the sun with your palm.”
I looked at the gloves lying on the table.
“To think you could stop the overwhelming whirlpool of magic emanating from a dragon’s heart
with something as cheap as this piece of cloth?”
The sage snorted again and pointed at the gloves with his finger.
“It’s nothing more than a facade. The inside is a complete mess. It doesn’t channel magic properly, let alone suppress it—in fact, it’s more likely to provoke an uncontrollable outburst.
If you forcibly infused power into this, it wouldn’t withstand the backlash and would shatter into pieces. Like trying to hold back a massive dam with a thin sheet of paper.”
The sage slowly straightened his posture and began pacing around the table.
His gaze once again turned to the gloves.
This time, instead of ridicule, there was a faint hint of pity.
“I won’t deny that it’s an object filled with love,”
the sage said firmly.
“But this is a failure.”
He looked back at the gloves, making it clear he would not leave room for argument.
I already knew.
As a magical artifact meant to suppress the power of a dragon, it was indeed a failure.
But suppression wasn’t what I wanted.
“You could modify it. I’m sure of that. I need output control and a way to use it without collapsing. If possible, pain suppression too.”
My voice echoed low and firm in the quiet sage’s chamber.
It was a calm tone that broke the silence.
In my words, the sage’s thick eyebrows twitched slightly.
The deep wrinkles around his eyes, carved by years of storms and trials, became even more pronounced.
He stared at me for a while.
Then, slowly, he reached for the gloves.
The sage clicked his tongue softly and picked them up.
His fingers gently ran over the rough surface of the gloves.
It was a careful and delicate attitude, like that of a seasoned artisan appraising a flawed item.
“Output control, huh… Hah, what nonsense.”
What came from the sage’s lips was a scornful laugh, laced with contempt.
His gaze turned sharp in an instant, shooting straight at me.
“A dragon’s power is like a torrential stream. A feeble vessel like a human body can barely contain it. And the vile, violent magic rampaging inside you is even filthier and more ferocious.
To think you could control that monstrous power with a tool that barely requires moving a few fingers— it’s as foolish as a child babbling nonsense.”
The sage kept muttering as he rolled the gloves between his fingertips.
“Pain suppression, you say… Well, if you’re dead, there’s no pain to suppress.”
I silently stared at him, refusing to back down.
I had already resolved to face whatever price might come.
Gathering soldiers, giving them some armor and weapons, and pretending to form a knightly order would never be enough to stand against overwhelming strength.
At best, they would merely serve as swords to cut through the weeds and thickets blocking my way.
In the end, I had no choice but to step forward myself.
“What are you trying to face?”
The sage’s voice was low, almost as if confirming what he already knew.
“The hero, the demon king, the world. Anything that threatens Flora—I’ll face them all.”
The sage stroked his beard, studying me intently.
His gaze was like that of someone who had stumbled upon something intriguing after a very long time.
Then, he finally spoke.
“Very well. People with eyes like yours never know how to give up. But don’t expect too much—leave your hopes in the trash where they belong.”
He glanced back at the gloves and continued, his voice deliberate and slow.
“All I can do is a slight adjustment. At most, I can marginally slow down the rate at which this thing devours your lifespan. Don’t expect to completely control a dragon’s power. If you do, you’ll come to regret it bitterly.”
It was a cold answer, one that reaffirmed the harsh reality.
“Come back at this time tomorrow. By then, I’ll have made this useless piece of junk somewhat functional.”
With that, the sage turned his back and walked toward the depths of the room.
His figure disappeared deeper into the darkness, as if melting into the shadow itself.
When I left the sage’s room, I met Lillian’s gaze as she waited for me in the hallway.
“Everything’s done. Please head back to your room.”
As I got into the wheelchair, I noticed her turn around and grab the handles.
Watching her quietly push the wheelchair, I spoke.
“Don’t you think the royal capital is a wonderful place?”
She seemed to ponder for a moment before awkwardly smiling and replying,
“Ah, yes… It seems like a nice place to live.”
Smiling softly at her awkward response, I added with a faint laugh.
“Right? It’s not too hot, not too cold… It feels like the perfect place to keep someone locked up for life.”
At my words, I felt Lillian’s back stiffen.
Moonlight streamed through the hallway windows, casting a view of the castle’s interior.
Lillian said nothing more.
The only sound that filled the empty space was the turning of the wheelchair’s wheels along the corridor.
In the silence, the wheelchair moved through the dim hallway.
When we reached the room, Lillian pushed the wheelchair beside the bed.
“Thank you for your effort.”
I offered a short remark, to which she awkwardly nodded before leaving the room.
The sound of the door closing echoed, and silence returned to the space.
Leaning against the bed, I stared out the window.
I thought of the night sky Flora and I had once gazed at together.
Lost in thought, I sat still.
Where should I confine Flora?
The royal palace’s underground prison came to mind.
It was the most heavily guarded and secluded place in the kingdom, but it was too gloomy and dark—a place unfit for her.
I thought about the mansion where Flora had once abducted me.
It was beautiful, but too remote, and it would take time to renovate it to my liking.
Shaking my head as I mulled it over, one place suddenly came to mind.
“… The Ducal Estate.”
Cold stone floors, creaking hallways, disdainful gazes, and the horrifying experimental tools in the basement.
Unpleasant memories flashed through my mind, but I also realized it was the perfect place.
Father—that man—had layered countless filthy secrets within its tall, thick walls, even casting magic to ensure no one could see inside.
It was virtually cut off from the outside world.
And at the Ducal Estate, creating a garden just for her would be no trouble at all.
I decided to summon the butler and discuss my plans.
Lying down on the bed, its soft yet lonely comfort embraced me.
As I closed my eyes, sleep gradually overtook me.
At first light, I headed straight for my sister’s office.
When I opened the door, I saw Fiora buried in a mountain of documents, lost in thought.
As soon as her eyes met mine, I noticed her pupils trembling for a brief moment before she smiled and spoke.
“What brings you here, kiddo?”
Without hesitation, I said,
“I’m going to find Flora.”
Fiora’s hands came to a slow halt.
She placed her pen down and met my gaze.
“I told you to take time to think about this…”
I smiled at her.
At this point, I saw no reason to hide my true nature from her anymore.
In fact, I thought laying it all bare might be the best way to get her help.
“I have a plan. You said that when you become queen, you’d let me live however I want, didn’t you?”
Her pupils wavered slightly.
Gripping my cane, I walked up to her desk and leaned both hands on its surface.
“So help me out, will you? I’m going to lock someone up where no one will ever find them.”
At my words, my sister said nothing.
She simply looked down at me with a hardened expression.
In the silence, her blue eyes seemed to sink into an unfathomable darkness.
A cold stillness settled heavily in the office.
“…Are you serious?”
My sister’s voice broke the silence, echoing through the room.
In her gaze, I could see a mix of emotions— pity, sorrow, confusion, and even a hint of fear.
I slowly nodded at her.
The gem at the end of my cane glittered in the sunlight.
“…Alright.”
Her lips parted slowly.
Her trembling voice was filled with hesitation, but it was unmistakably a consent.