Little Pink Starfish

The Second Remarkable Trait.

The Lord occasionally displayed behaviour as if possessed by divine inspiration.

It was during lunch one day, when a short tea break was taken after processing towering stacks of documents.

The one who served the Lord most closely was Botello Oron, who inherited the position of Head Attendant from his grandfather. However, as managing the vast lord’s castle was enough to require ten bodies, most of the time regular attendants served the Lord in Botello’s stead.

These attendants were selected through countless rounds of meticulous testing and interviews, followed by rigorous training. They were also, for all intents and purposes, devoted followers of the Lord. Their loyalty and dedication to ensuring the Lord’s comfort were so impressive that even the retainers could hardly rival it.

Among them, Silimir stood out as the most faithful of all. He was quick-witted, fast-handed, and seemed to anticipate the Lord’s needs before a word was spoken. His demeanour was flawless, courteous to perfection, and his tea-making skills were so exceptional that he had taken charge of the Lord’s tea service.

This day was no different—Silimir brewed tea with the utmost care. The Lord took a relaxed sip and said,

“This tea tastes excellent again today, Silimir.”

“Thank you, my Lord.”

Silimir smiled proudly at the compliment. But the smile vanished with the next words.

“It’s a pity I won’t be tasting this tea again. You’ve done well, Silimir. But you’re dismissed. No severance, so be aware.”

As the Lord set the teacup down, Silimir was struck dumb. So were the first-class administrators and Lan Gretel, who had been drinking tea together. Silimir turned pale and dropped to his knees immediately.

“M-My Lord? Have I done something wrong? If You would tell me, I will correct it!”

“For passing Solar’s information to Prataris.”

The Lord’s tone was light, but Silimir’s face drained of colour. Prataris was a sizable domain neighbouring Sobletz. Kind-hearted as he usually was, even Lan Gretel’s gaze turned ice cold at the mention of espionage.

“You did your job well, and what you leaked wasn’t particularly sensitive, so I let it slide… But spying on our bedroom matters was too much. Why the hell do they care how often or how long Yanu and I spend the night together? Perverts.”

“M-My Lord! N-No! This must be some kind of misunderstanding, please—!”

The attendants rushed in and pinned Silimir down. Soon, knights arrived and dragged him out as he wept and begged to at least remain as a servant. Oddly, his desperation didn’t feel like acting.

“Silimir was really good at his job, what a waste.”

Despite uncovering a perfectly loyal and flawless servant as a spy, the Lord remained calm and composed.

And it wasn’t only spies—corrupt officials and secret wrongdoers were caught with uncanny precision. No matter how much the guilty denied it, once the knights arrived, perfectly prepared evidence and witnesses followed without fail. None caught by the Lord were ever innocent.

Among the administrators, there were hushed speculations that the Lord had some kind of secret intelligence network. The most likely figure behind it was thought to be Hera, Solar’s hero, an exceptional monster hunter, and captain of the vigilante corps. Yet even a hidden intel group couldn’t explain everything.

Typically, domain inspections came in two types. The first, conducted every four months, involved luxurious carriages and a procession of sharply dressed administrators and knights. They toured the city, meeting landowners, priests, merchants, and the poor alike—more a show of the Lord’s care than an actual inspection.

The true inspections, as administrators called them, were unofficial. The Lord would secretly leave the castle with a few retainers or administrators to observe the people’s lives firsthand. During these times, the Lord would cast spells to make the group appear like ordinary residents. With this method, they could assess the effects of their policies and hear the real concerns of the people.

On one such day, while following the Lord on an inspection, they stopped by Captain Hera’s bun shop and devoured bowls of spicy broth buns. They were chatting about going for a new fruit shaved ice dessert that was trending in Solar.

“…Hm?”

Despite the snow and ice everywhere, the Lord grumbled about eating something cold when He suddenly turned His head as if spotting something.

Everyone was puzzled when the Lord stared fixedly at an ordinary-looking resident. Alika cautiously asked,

“Lord Eira? Is something wrong?”

Without replying, the Lord tilted His head, then lightly flicked His fingers. A golden dust burst forth, and suddenly a patch of ice appeared under the resident. Unaware, the man slipped and fell spectacularly.

“Oof!”

“That’s gonna hurt just watching.”

Some passersby chuckled; others winced. The retainers, including Alika, were confused as to why the Lord would prank a citizen. But then, as the man groaned and stood up, something fell from his coat—his chest flap had been torn during the fall.

With a sharp clang, two red-bladed, sinister knives soaked in what looked like blood or rust fell to the ground. A local who had reached to help him recoiled in terror.

The townspeople who had pitied the clumsy fall now went cold. Everything about the man—from his flustered face to the bloodied blades—reeked of suspicion. He desperately tried to hide the weapons, but it was too late. Hera, guarding the Lord, shot forward and pinned the man instantly.

The ensuing investigation revealed he was a fugitive who had committed a string of brutal serial murders in another domain before fleeing to Solar. Under Sir Bloom’s relentless interrogation, he confessed he’d already chosen a target and had been tailing them that day.

When the retainers, awed, asked how the Lord had seen through a man hiding blades so well, He answered with a divine expression.

“Morunka gave me a revelation. I had a hunch. Didn’t his behaviour seem suspicious?”

No one, not even Hera, the captain of the vigilant watch, had noticed anything strange—but the Lord had, so they let it be. Others renewed their faith in Morunka. Alika, however, began to suspect the Lord truly possessed some kind of divine insight.

Then again, it made sense. The Lord was a magician—specifically, a labyrinth mage.

The Third Remarkable Trait.

Labyrinth Mage.

As a Sobletz native, Alika constantly felt cultural differences since moving to Solar. Due to its long-standing isolation, Solar had many quirks, even compared to nearby Volni and Sobletz.

One such difference was the attitude toward mages. Despite the Lord’s efforts, many in Solar still viewed mages negatively—especially older folks. For Alika, who came from a mage-favouring region, this was puzzling.

Even so, there were times Alika found the Lord hard to handle. Normally rational and composed, the Lord sometimes committed outright antics. No wonder He was a labyrinth mage.

“What is this?!”

One morning, Alika screamed upon arriving at the castle. The entire floor was covered in sticky foam. Exhausted servants who had spent all night cleaning slumped against walls, dozing. One newly arrived official tried to tiptoe through, only to slip and fall into the bubbles. Alika didn’t even try stepping in.

It wasn’t until later that day, when mages from the research tower sprayed some acrid reagents, that the mess was cleaned up. The Chief Steward, drenched in suds from a day of mopping, stared at the Lord, who, hair tied back neatly, avoided his gaze.

“…Sorry, Ginas.”

“My Lord…”

“I was trying to find an efficient insulation material to keep homes warm… One of the castle’s enchantments reacted poorly. I won’t test it here again.”

“Have You considered… not testing at all…?”

“…Sorry?”

“Haa…”

“But listen! If we could apply this to regular homes, it would drastically reduce winter magic stone consumption…”

Honestly, the foam-covered floor was one of the milder incidents.

One day, Alika screamed again—this time after being bitten while retrieving documents from a box.

“What is this?!”

The box snapped like a living creature, its lid chomping down. As Alika screamed and ran, the castle staff were also being chased by giant boxes. Five had already fainted from having their heads swallowed, and two were gobbled up by a particularly huge one.

The chaos ended only after knights came and beat the boxes into submission. Their durability was absurd—two or three people had to pummel each one into stillness. The Lord apologised to a bruised and battered Sir Bloom.

“…Sorry, Sir Bloom.”

“It’s alright, my Lord.”

“I added a new security system to the castle… It worked fine in the lab, but something must’ve gone wrong.”

“That’s why I’m here. Call me anytime. Use me as You wish.”

“You’re a person, Sir Bloom… People aren’t meant to be used.”

Despite Sir Bloom’s loyal answer, the Lord seemed to feel guilty. Not long after, He personally added hazard pay to their wages.

Alika used the extra pay to dine at Solar’s most expensive restaurant. A fancy date helped soothe the bruises on his buttocks from the box attack.

Other incidents followed—the half-destroyed research tower, the screaming picture frame, the castle cat rampage—but none of them could top the Lord’s final and most outrageous trait.