I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

Hallie stood there silently, her gaze locked on Julian with an intensity that could have burned holes through walls. Her chest rose and fell sharply, but she didn’t say a word—just stared, her eyes a mix of rage and desperation.

Meanwhile, the four guardians exchanged uneasy glances—unsure where this confrontation would lead.

Julian, however, just smiled as if he had been expecting her all along. His earlier rowdy demeanor melted away as he stood, smoothing his black robe with a flick of his hand.

“Oh, Princess,” he said, his voice soft but with a subtle hint of mock. “Welcome to my humble abode. I hope you don’t mind the mess.” He gestured lazily at the chaos around them—spilled ale, scattered game pieces, and a dagger stuck in the table.

Hallie’s eyes flickered, a flash of disgust spreading across her face as she took in the scene. Her lips twitched as if she might spit curses, but she held her tongue, her silence louder than any scream.

She shot an angry glance at the Guardians, and they stared back at Julian, confusion etched in their faces.

Sensing the collective gaze on him, Julian’s smile widened, a hint of amusement in his eyes. He waved a hand, gesturing to the four guardians. “Go,” he ordered.

The Guardians hesitated for a moment—Raphael shot a quick “what the hell” look at Liam—but then bowed in unison.

Joseph strolled out first, followed by Liam sheathing his dagger, Lias casting one last glance, and Raphael muttering something under his breath. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the room eerily silent, just Julian and Hallie.

Julian tilted his head, studying her, that smile never fading. Hallie’s disgust hung freely in the air, ready to snap—but he didn’t rush. He just stood there, hands behind his back, waiting for her to break first.

And just as he had expected, her silence shattered like glass.

“You think this is a game?” She finally snapped, her voice a rough scream that tore through the room. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, ruining everything?” Her hands shook, tears and spit flying as she glared at Julian.

Julian’s smile didn’t waver. He casually reached for his mug and grabbed a jar of water from the table, pouring it in in slow motion.

“Well, what a harsh tongue you have, Princess,” he teased, his voice smooth and mocking, dripping with amusement.

He lifted the mug, took a sip—the water mixing with the leftover ale—and let it rush down his throat. Then, with a dramatic movement, he flopped back into his seat, sitting like a king on a throne.

Gesturing to a chair nearby, he spoke. “Sit, Princess.”

Hallie’s anger spiked, his carefree attitude—that smug, untouchable grin—pouring fuel on her fire. She kicked the chair he had pointed to, sending it skidding across the stone floor.

“You fucker!” she shouted, her voice cracking with rage. “Do not mock me! I am not someone you can dare to afford, you mixed-blood bastard!” Her breathing quickened, and she took a step closer, daring him to keep pushing.

Julian didn’t flinch. He set the mug down, his smile widening just a bit. “Mixed blood, huh?” he said, leaning forward slightly, resting an elbow on his knee. “Funny, Aunt Hallie—last I checked, it’s the same blood your father just crowned Archduke.” He tilted his head, his tone still teasing, but there was a sharp edge to it now. “You’re welcome to keep kicking chairs, though. Doesn’t change a thing.”

Hallie’s breath hitched, her composure slipping for a split second before it hardened back again. “You think a title makes you untouchable?” she spat. “You’re a stain—Regina’s mistake—and I’ll be damned if I let you sit there laughing at us!”

She lunged forward, slamming her hands on the table between them, the game pieces rattling.

Julian met her glare, his smile steady as the walls surrounding them. He took another slow sip of his water, savoring it, then set the mug down again.

“Laughing? No, no,” he said. “Just enjoying the view. You’re making this way too easy, Princess.” He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, utterly at ease, like her rage was a show he had paid to watch.

Hallie’s hand shot out, snatching a piece of bread from the table and lunging it toward Julian. The bread hurled through the air, but it didn’t even make it halfway—something invisible swatted it mid-flight, sending it tumbling to the floor.

Hallie’s eyes widened, but her rage was too massive to be overwhelmed by whatever the hell just happened. “I will kill your whole family!” she screamed, leaning over the table.

Julian tilted his head and then burst into laughter. “You’re welcome to try, Aunt,” he said, each word a taunt pushing her further. “The King would simply make me Crown Prince out of pity—poor little orphan Julian, all alone.” He wiped a fake tear from his eye, grinning widely as he leaned back in his chair.

Hallie slammed the table again, the wood groaning loudly under the force. “You think this is funny?” she roared, losing herself. “You think you can just—just laugh while you rip everything from us? You’re a parasite, a filthy leech—Regina’s trash!”

She grabbed another piece of bread, chucking it harder this time, but it met the same fate. Her chest heaved, her eyes wide, darting between the bread and Julian.

Julian’s laughter faded to a chuckle, but his smile stayed predatory. He picked up his mug, swirling the ale-water mixture, then took a slow sip, savoring it as he watched her break down.

“Trash, huh?” he whispered, setting the mug down. “Funny how this ‘trash’ is Archduke now—above your precious Ivan, above you all. Keep throwing bread, though—you look good doing it.”

Hallie’s face flushed red, her hands clawing at the table’s edge, her nails scraping the wood. “I’ll wipe that smirk off your face,” she hissed. “You and your bitch mother—you’ll pay for this, title or not!”

She lunged again, this time grabbing one of the daggers Liam had left stuck in the table.