I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

This must have happened before. It was not surprising that someone was corrupting the genius of the kingdom in front of the King without the King being willingly involved in it.

At last, the feast came to an end.

The King drew the gathering to a close with a fiery, farewell speech.

He stood at the head of the room and spoke about the kingdom’s future — about talent being its truest resource and how the young men and women gathered here represented that same talent.

It was not a long speech.

But it was effective.

Each listener felt as if the words were meant specifically for them.

Then came the tokens.

A servant moved through the room with a small wooden box, and the King personally handed one to each person present. The box looked heavier than it should have been, and inside was a small coin, engraved with the kingdom’s symbol.

Each recipient looked at theirs with the same expression — pride, pleased and devotion.

Meanwhile, Kraven looked at his for a moment longer than the others.

Then after few more minutes, the gathering completely dissolved. Farewells were exchanged, promises were made and the old castle slowly emptied. The King saw each guest out personally, leaving one last message to each of them.

Kraven was the last to leave.

He stood near the door after others had left, turning the coin over in his fingers. The servant was gone by now — perhaps he had slipped out somewhere in the middle of the farewell or simply teleported away.

Something felt… off.

Kraven frowned slightly.

His gaze drifted across the now-empty hall, searching for something to explain the unease coiling in his chest.

And yet—

Nothing seemed out of place.

Eventually, he pocketed the coin and left. When he reached his guest room in the royal castle, he quickly shut the door and sat on the edge of the bed.

The restlessness from the hall was still with him. He sat with it for a moment, trying to identify it the way you try to identify a sound you can’t quite remember.

Julian watched him with genuine curiosity.

Kraven closed his eyes.

The boy turned his attention inward and it seemed that he was checking his own foundation. His sea of consciousness came into view and he moved through it, searching every nook and cranny.

Then he stopped.

Something was there that hadn’t been there this morning.

It was neither large nor loud and sat there quietly as if trying its best to hide itself.

Kraven was paying close attention.

He circled it carefully, probing its edges without touching it directly. He immediately felt the foreign quality of it. It was not his mana, but rather something colder—something that had no business being inside his sea of consciousness at all.

His breathing changed.

His thoughts began to accelerate.

What is this?

When—

How—

He traced backward through the evening. The feast. The conversations. The King’s speech. The coin still heavy in his pocket.

His mind kept moving backward. The other cultivators. The food. The wine — but he hadn’t drunk much, had he? He was certain he hadn’t.

The strange man who talked about magic and its theory.

His mind stopped there.

No, he thought immediately. That’s not — he was just talking. We talked for forty minutes and then —

The handshake.

Kraven froze for a moment.

He thought about the handshake. The completely ordinary handshake at the end of a conversation. He thought about the forty minutes before it, how completely he had been absorbed by it.

It can’t be, he thought.

But his mind kept returning to the handshake. And to how he had felt after it. The restlessness. The irritation. The way his eyes had moved through the room differently, latching on things they hadn’t been interested in before.

It can’t be right.

But it was right. He knew it was right. The foreign thing sitting in his sea of consciousness must have arrived in the exact moment of that contact and he had been too absorbed to feel it happen.

Kraven inhaled sharply.

Inside his sea of consciousness—

His mana surged instinctively.

It rose like a massive wave, clashing against the foreign presence

Kraven was surprised by this as well. However, instead of backing off, he focused and directed the clash. He fought back with everything he had, and somehow, the foreign object was being pushed back.

Julian raised his brows.

The boy was fighting it. Actually fighting it.

It was slow but it was there.

Julian watched this with something close to genuine surprise. If someone else had been in his place, they would have already panicked and lost themselves further to the intrusion. But Kraven was strong—both magically and mentally.

As the battle continued, the door to his room suddenly opened.

Kraven’s eyes snapped open. He released his inward focus immediately and looked at the door.

His sister stood in the doorway, her hands still on the handle. She looked at him with an expression that tried to be casual, but didn’t quite succeed. Behind her, visible over her shoulder in the corridor, someone else was waiting.

Kraven straightened. “What’s wrong?”

His sister glanced back at the corridor. Stepped aside.

The Crown Prince entered.

Kraven was off the bed immediately, the mental battle entirely forgotten. “Your Highness.” He bowed fully, buying himself a half-second to arrange his expression. “I didn’t know you were here. Forgive me, I would have—”

“Please.” The Crown Prince raised one hand. He was slightly older than Kraven and carried an aura that made everything feel comfortable.

“You’re family now.” He glanced at Kraven’s sister with genuine warmth. “Assuming she doesn’t change her mind between now and the ceremony.”

His sister made a sound that was almost a laugh. “You should be more worried about your own mind changing.”

“Impossible,” the Crown Prince said simply. He looked back at Kraven. “I’ve been wanting to meet you properly. Your sister talks about you constantly.”

“Selectively,” she corrected.

“Constantly and selectively.” He gestured toward the chairs near the window. “Sit. We’re not in a throne room.”

They talked for almost an hour.