Chapter 52: The Puppet Master’s Design

Side. Cecil Moore (2)

For Ayla, a single day was enough to stop being wary of Cecil. 

Like any other human, she believed what she saw. 

And Cecil was a figure who seemed too strange and harmless to be wary of.

“There’s no reason you wouldn’t get married. Your suitors are lining up inside the walls.”

“If my Master keeps stroking me like this, they’ll run away outside the walls!”

“If you keep getting annoyed, you’ll get wrinkles, Ayla.”

“Whose fault is that?!” 

She flared up.

Cecil blinked his tired eyes and stroked Ayla’s head. 

Her silky hair softly fell through his fingers. 

His first disciple truly helped with Cecil’s mood change. 

The sensation of stroking her was pleasing, and it was effective in diverting his entrenched thoughts.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?”

“Ah…?”

“Really! I can’t believe Master is the best mage in the territory.” 

Ayla grumbled.

Cecil vaguely listened, fiddling with her hair.

‘She might be louder than a dog…’ he thought, evaluating her.

But overall, she’s better than a dog. 

And cuter too.

Cecil thought he was beginning to understand why other mages kept pets.

As an alien human, he needed a bit more time to understand typical human behavior.

However, he had plenty of time. He was a mage, after all. 

For him, who could indefinitely delay aging as long as magic allowed, time was an abundant resource. 

As a child, he had found even that time too bothersome to spend on understanding foolish humans, but long periods eventually gave him the will to try and comprehend human behavior.

Cecil could now read other people’s emotions. 

Responding to them was another matter, though…

But there were certainly benefits he gained from understanding humans. 

Cecil learned from experience that people reacted better when he didn’t deal with them with a fully sane mind.

‘Why is that?’

Perhaps it’s because not being wary of seemingly weak individuals is a characteristic of all animals? 

Humans, too, are animals and couldn’t escape the laws of nature. 

It was also true that he was always fatigued from research, so Cecil always walked around as if sleep-drunk.

It was natural that he always looked sleepy, as he only sought out Ayla when he needed a break in the first place.

Nobles would tremble with rage when he ignored them while not tired, but when he showed a vacant demeanor, they would understand him, thinking, ‘Mages are eccentric, after all.’

Ayla was no different.

Cecil, who was absently stroking Ayla’s head, suddenly realized she had grown taller. 

Her body had matured, and the cute baby fat on her cheeks had disappeared.

She was becoming less lovely.

‘Humans are cuter when they’re young, too,’ Cecil realized.

Ordinary humans are bound to age, so Ayla would gradually become less attractive.

That would be a waste.

“Ayla, are you studying magic?”

“I… am,” Ayla said, rolling her eyes and telling an obvious lie.

That sight was cute, so Cecil indulgently said, “That’s surprising.”

“Just scold me!” 

Ayla retorted, getting angry instead.

Even including that, his pet human was lovely.

‘Becoming a mage would be impossible for her.’

Most mages are equally foolish and emotional, but Ayla’s intelligence was much lower than their average.

She would grow. 

She would not be able to stop aging and would die.

Cecil now understood why his master had researched immortality.

Mages cannot live forever. 

They merely have a slightly longer lifespan and age more slowly than other humans.

His master probably started the research for himself, but Cecil wanted to complete that research for his pet human.

When he went to the castle to clear his head from research, Ayla was there.

Every time he met her, new motivation surged, allowing him to accelerate his research again.

Ayla was truly useful…

And then, that incident occurred.

After a year, Cecil visited the castle and found Ayla. 

She was sitting in bed, crying.

Tears like jewels fell down her cheeks, and her slender shoulders trembled.

That sight moved Cecil’s heart.

‘How pitiful.’

Cecil realized he felt sympathy. He felt exhilaration at that fact.

Why? 

Emotions are worthless things that paralyze reason.

He felt curiosity. 

Mages were explorers. 

He wanted to resolve his questions.

“What’s wrong, Ayla? Why are you crying like this?”

“Master.”

Ayla saw Cecil and sobbed even more bitterly.

Cecil listened to why she was crying.

A month ago, Ayla, now an adult, attended a palace ball. 

There, she met a man. 

He held a very noble status but did not use it to approach Ayla. 

While countless alphas coveted Ayla, he merely leaned against the wall of the ballroom, lost in thought.

He looked lonely. What could make him so lonely? 

He had status, wealth, and charm—everything…

Even after the ball, when she returned to her relatives’ house in the capital, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. 

In her dreams, he appeared and smiled at her.

However, the next day, she heard shocking news.

“He had a lover!” 

Ayla wailed.

The young duke hadn’t married because of her, and even, the day after the ball, eloped with that low-status lover out of love.

The two lovers were soon discovered.

The Emperor reprimanded the duke, his godson, but the duke, in turn, requested that their relationship be recognized, stating that he had secretly married her.

Since hearing the news, Ayla had been suffering from a fever. 

No doctor or priest could cure her. 

They only said she was suffering from a ‘sickness of the heart,’ and that it was a problem no one else could solve.

“Master, I love him.” 

Ayla wiped away her tears.

“Master, you’re an amazing mage, aren’t you? You can do anything.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Me, me… please make us united with him.”

After expressing her fervent wish, she fainted.

‘Ah. Right.’ Cecil realized.

Humans reproduce.

The desire to leave behind offspring was natural for most humans.

It was the only proof of their existence in the world, as ordinary humans couldn’t leave any other achievements behind.

Cecil had defined the desire to reproduce in that way.

It was a rational act.

And Ayla’s offspring would be cute, resembling her.

Cecil wanted that.

He gently touched Ayla’s forehead and whispered, “It will be as you wish.”

Because Ayla’s wish aligned with what he desired.

The baron’s family was wealthy enough to support a mage like Cecil without any difficulties.

And the land the baron owned consisted of plains through which a river flowed and a port city.

His vast fortune was to be inherited by his eldest son, the heir.

Ayla’s inheritance rank was eighth, as she had three alpha brothers above her and their four children.

The baron’s three sons, along with their families, went on a boat trip and all died in an accident.

The baron, unable to bear his grief, collapsed. 

He, too, died within two days.

Overnight, Ayla became the empire’s most eligible bride.

The young Duke Mills’ lover was found dead by suicide in an inn room. 

The letter she left behind contained a plea to the duke, asking him to forget her and live happily.

While Duke Mills, plunged into despair, was dazed, the worst drought in history struck the ducal territory. 

Not only that, but all financial lifelines connected to the duke were cut off, coincidentally or for some reason, causing the ducal family to suffer from financial difficulties.

All businesses the ducal family was engaged in stopped. 

The elders advised Duke Mills to marry Ayla. 

The dowry she would bring was enormous, making the difference in their status seem like nothing.

Duke Mills was not an irresponsible lord. 

He married Ayla. 

On their wedding night, they conceived a child.

Among the benefits Ayla brought was the great mage, Cecil Moore. 

Duke Mills wished for the great mage, his wife’s master, to settle in his territory.

With that in mind, he asked Cecil,

“Would you give the child a name? If a mage like you becomes the godfather, the child will grow up happily.”

Cecil looked at the wrinkled, ugly creature.

He couldn’t find any of Ayla’s features in the newborn baby.

Its scruffy hair clung to its head like wet ash.

He felt no desire to stroke it at all.

‘Can’t be helped.’

One cannot always get the desired results from the start.

Cecil was a patient researcher.

Even if it was like this now, the child would grow up to perfectly resemble Ayla.

Because Cecil would make it so.

He smiled.

“Ash.”

That would be a good name for the child.