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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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We were back in the capital, having teleported from Weiss County, with a couple of hours to kill. I was still puzzled by the whole castle-building-in-a-week thing, so I asked,
“Arwen.”
“Hmm? Is there a problem?”
“Of course there’s a problem. Forget about building a house in two hours, but castles don’t get built in a week, do they?”
“Not normally.”
“So…”
“Of course.”
Arwen stopped walking, a smug look on her face, the kind that made me want to flick her forehead. My fists clenched as she continued,
“It’s possible if I use my familiars and servants. Think about it.”
“Think about what?”
“Are we short on money? Or manpower? We have both. And my servants can use magic. They’re far more efficient than any human architect.”
“Really?”
Now that she mentioned it, it made sense.
If I used magic to build a building, it wouldn’t take long. Just cut, stack, and assemble.
Medieval architecture wasn’t exactly rocket science.
I wasn’t an expert in magical engineering, so the results might not be perfect, but I could always hire a specialist.
I nodded, and she pointed to a nearby cafe.
“Let’s take a break. Two hours is a generous estimate. It’ll be done soon.”
“We’re under an invisibility spell.”
“Oh, that’s why no one’s staring…”
I sighed.
One minute she was talking about building a castle, the next she couldn’t even remember if she was under an invisibility spell.
Who would think she was a True Ancestor?
She was ancient, though I’d never asked her exact age. It was a little disconcerting how… ditzy she could be.
“Arwen, how old are you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. You’re clearly ancient, but how old? You’re so ditzy, no one would believe you’re a True Ancestor.”
“D-ditzy?! Retract that statement!”
She shrieked.
Thank goodness for the invisibility spell. Screaming in public like this would make people think she was crazy.
I pretended to cover my ears.
“You are ditzy. You’re a True Ancestor, and you didn’t even realize you were under a spell?”
“I-I was… distracted! I was focused on our conversation. Even your abnormally advanced magic can’t fool a True Ancestor.”
“I know you’re devoted to me, but… why are we even talking about this? So, how old are you?”
Silence.
Arwen’s face darkened.
She clearly didn’t want to answer.
Now I was annoyed.
We were married, and I didn’t even know her age? I’d have to ask Sylphia too.
“So, how old is our Arwen?”
“I… haven’t been counting since I turned fifteen hundred.”
“Wow.”
I’d expected a large number, but this was… impressive. So, she was at least fifteen hundred years old.
Well, it was better than being ninety or a hundred. It was so large it was almost… comforting.
“That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”
She muttered, her face flushed. She’d clearly been embarrassed by my reaction.
At least fifteen hundred years older than me.
They were different species, with different lifespans, so comparing her age to a human’s wasn’t exactly accurate, but… this was a gender-reversed world.
A thought struck me.
If this were my past life, I’d be the one fifteen hundred years older.
“Ugh.”
I shuddered.
That was… disturbing.
I looked at Arwen, a newfound respect blooming in my chest.
If someone told me to date a fifteen-hundred-year-old woman, let alone a fifteen-hundred-year younger woman, I’d tell them they were crazy.
She must have been desperate. But I had to ask.
“Arwen.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m not trying to make fun of you, but… do you have some kind of… pedophilic tendencies…?”
“Rudrick.”
She stared at me, her face crimson, tears welling up in her eyes.
“I really hate that about you.”
“Sorry.”
I apologized.
That had been a bit much, even for me.
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There’d been a… minor incident.
Or was it minor?
I’d bought her sweets to appease her, and I’d even resorted to wiping cream off her face, a tactic I’d been saving for emergencies.
If my friends from my past life saw me now, they’d laugh and call me whipped.
But I didn’t care.
We weren’t just dating, we were married. Even in this world, where husbands held more power, marital disputes were serious business.
“They’re done.”
Arwen said, sipping her coffee with exaggerated elegance.
Normally, I’d ask if she was imitating a character from a romance novel, but after my efforts to appease her, I wasn’t that insensitive.
“Really? Let’s go.”
“Alright.”
I’d memorized the coordinates beforehand, so teleporting back to the capital was easy.
I was an Archmage, the Court Mage.
Teleportation was child’s play.
I set the coordinates and activated the spell. The world blurred, and a familiar sensation of weightlessness washed over me.
I opened my eyes, and we were no longer in the bustling capital, but in the clearing in the forest near Weiss County.
And in the clearing stood a small cabin.
“Oh…”
I couldn’t help but be impressed. It wasn’t exactly a palace, but for a temporary dwelling, it was surprisingly well-built.
A vampire woman, with one eye covered by her hair, presumably one of Arwen’s servants, bowed.
“I’ve prepared everything for your stay, my lord. And for your mate.”
“Excellent.”
Arwen nodded, and the vampire vanished, mentioning she was finalizing the contract with the merchant company.
“Let’s go inside. She wouldn’t have cut corners.”
“We’re staying here tonight?”
“We’ll leave tomorrow morning. If we’re late, the lizard will throw a fit.”
I had to adhere to the schedule.
It was the only thing keeping them from tearing each other apart. Or rather, it was a rule, a guideline. “Leash” was too… demeaning.
I chuckled at the thought, then stepped inside the cabin.
It was surprisingly well-furnished, considering it had been built in two hours. I was about to express my surprise when we encountered another problem.
“So, what do we do now?”
Silence.
Arwen didn’t answer.
What were we supposed to do?
It was still early afternoon. We weren’t staying long, just one night.
“You didn’t think this through either, did you?”
“I’m thinking! I’ve been thinking since we were at the cafe. I just haven’t reached a conclusion yet. Did you think I’d come here without a plan?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
I knew her. She was impulsive.
She fell silent, and an awkward silence filled the cabin.
Even I, who’d lived nearby for twenty years, couldn’t think of anything to do.
The only sound was the gentle gurgling of a nearby stream.
Finally, Arwen spoke.
“There’s a stream nearby. How about fishing? We can catch our dinner.”
“Fishing…”
I didn’t have anything better to do, so I agreed.
“Sure. They call me the Fishing King.”
Silence.
Arwen looked at me strangely.
Why?
It was true. I was a fishing prodigy in my past life.
I felt a little wronged.
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