"Happy birthday, Luca!"

My parents, Elda, Jarvis, Jasper, Fin, Sarka, and Henry, exclaimed. Their smiling and radiant faces looked toward me from around the dining table, illuminated by the warm glow of light stones above the room. Arnold's rabbit stew's invigorating properties were in effect.

I blinked.

That's right. Today was my birthday.

I gazed down at the creamy birthday cake that Fiona placed before me. The familiar scent of freshly baked bread wafted over from her as she leaned toward me.

"Happy twentieth year," she whispered to me with a tender smile, her eyes wrinkling with affection.

I stared down at the cake before me, baked by her. It wasn't objectively quite as magnificent as the cakes the palace pastry chef could make, but it had something more important. It was made with love and care.

My eyes swelled up with tears.

I tracked the days as to when the King of Adovoria would die, but I had completely forgotten about my birthday, which preceded his original death with a day in between.

My birthday fell on the last day of summer, while in my original life, the King died on the first day of fall. Between the two seasons was Scorchday, a superstitious and holy day, representing the height of heat before the cooling of the new season began.

The day was marked by the blooming of tiny otherworldly flowers, known as Flame Blooms, atop the peaks of the Celestial Mountain Range in Adovoria. They only blossomed on Scorchday, crowning the mountain range with thousands of flickering, vibrant flames. The flowers glowed with an intense, fiery orange hue, casting a warm, mesmerizing light across the landscape. It was a breathtaking sight, drawing tourists from far and wide to witness the spectacle from afar. However, the beauty was fleeting; the flowers would wilt all at once at the day's end.

As I was born just a minute before Scorchday began, every year Fiona crafted a cake adorned with orange flowers resembling Flame Blooms. This year was no different. Delicate, fiery blossoms made of sugar and butter icing covered the top of the cake. Twenty candles flickered atop, their flames dancing like the blossoms they mirrored.

"Make a wish!" Sarka Jarbez encouraged.

I smiled at the fact that she already knew the family tradition. Only Fin appeared confused, as everyone else also encouraged me to make a wish.

My mother had begun the practice within the Frey household of blowing out miniature candles atop a cake and making a wish on everyone's birthday. I didn't remember her, but this tradition was a nice reminder of her, even if she was gone.

What should I wish for?

I smiled, gazing at the flickering flames, knowing precisely what I wanted.

"FOOOOO!" I blew out the twenty candles on the cake to the cheering and applause of my family and loved ones.

What else was there to wish for? My wish was one and the same as my original wish to the System at death's door: to make sure everyone I cared about lived.

***

Clank.

The lollipop rolled between my teeth as I gazed at the giant orange blossoming flowers reminiscent of Flame Blooms forming across Evercrest's sky and many other cities of Lellei Kingdom. They were a symbol of Lady Shuzen's short union with Elian Vikzhou, as well as the downfall of Arcane Financial Group and the kingdom's sovereigns.

The real Flame Blooms that appeared for one day over the Celestial Mountain Range had disappeared two weeks ago. Adovoria's King remained hanging to his life by a thread but hadn't dropped dead yet. Arnold's cooking was working. The King had outlived his originally outlined end by thirteen days, making me hopeful for those I truly cared about.

"Hah…" I exhaled out, cutting the web of mana that I had spread across the kingdom, ending the illusions once and for all.

The sensation was both liberating and exhausting, like the relief of blood rushing back into a limb that had fallen asleep, tingling with new life as blood flowed naturally once more. A shiver ran beneath my skin as the concentrated magic's faint pulsing faded.

I took a deep breath, absorbing the cool ocean air. At the top of the rooftop terrace of Lady Shuzen's residence, the air was stronger and almost tasted different—cleaner somehow, especially with the dusk sky as its backdrop.

Despite my mana core's minuscule size, I now had a greater appreciation and understanding of it. Mana was something that everyone possessed; if you did not, then you were not among the living.

That made proper mana replenishing a much more critical endeavor.

I pulled the blackberry-flavored blue lollipop out of my mouth and noted that despite my massive mana expenditure for the past couple of hours, some concentrated mana potion remained on the stick.

My little brother has certainly outdone himself.

I wrapped the lollipop in wax-covered paper, saving it for later. I turned my back on the beautiful fireworks display and walked across the building's rooftop terrace toward the stairway leading down to Lady Shuzen's residence.

"Jasper, I need you to bet on another coin toss," I said.

"We're leaving? Now?" Jasper hopped off one of the white stone ledges and walked beside me. "It's barely started. Don't you want to stick around more for good measure?"

I frowned.

"No," I replied. "There's little need."

The fireworks display designed by Elda didn't smell of flowers this time. It didn't smell of anything horrid either. It didn't smell of anything at all. However, the fireworks were dispersing a powerful poisonous gas, commissioned by me and developed by Kathy upon my request.

However, unlike the other poisons I utilized in my throwing needles, this one didn't have as disturbing a reaction. No yelps from instantaneous diarrhea nor cries of pain would come from the victims of this poison. Rather, it conditioned those exposed to it to be malleable to the power of suggestion.

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The White Sheep Needle.

My use of it in my original life was a simplified way of extracting information without the need for any bloodshed. Oddly enough, it didn't prove very popular amongst my clients, who wished some level of pain and suffering upon those they had brought to my business of interrogation. It was as if they cared more about the pain inflicted on their subjects than actually extracting comprehensible and valuable information.

My suggestion of utilizing this gentle poison in Lellei Kingdom's rebellion, instead of the horrid stuff they had initially planned to spread across their enemies, was met with similar resistance. I understood their anger and frustration, but a bunch of foaming at the mouth and bleeding people just sounded like an unnecessary mess that some poor schmuck was going to have to scrub with a pail and rag eventually.

I've been that schmuck and didn't wish that role on anyone.

Moreover, while I had provided the revolutionaries with an illusionary translation of the financial and governing contracts that were imposed upon Lellei's Leivarants, the context was critical. Being able to tap into someone who organized and imposed the massive debts upon Lellei's citizens would help unravel the mess that would follow after the revolution.

Ultimately, the final straw that made the rebellion give in to my proposal was the risk of accidentally harming Leivarants, children especially, who would not have been able to take the antidote in time against the horrid poison they initially wanted to deploy.

I walked down the stone stairwell, gazing at the vivid paintings of famous battles. I even recognized several of the battles portrayed from my lessons with Professor Whistle.

One painting depicted the Siege of Kerdent Keep with flaming red magic arrows arching through the twilight sky and masses of people storming the keep gates. Another painting captured the naval Battle of Evercrest's Stormy Bay, with ships engaged in a deadly dance on turbulent waves. There was even a painting depicting the mythical Larthsong's Last Stand of Agony, showing a small, battered man holding a sword defiantly against an enormous flying dragon baring its monstrous teeth.

I paused and leaned in to get a better look at the black dragon, which reminded me a great deal of Azgralos.

I wonder how he is doing.

I pulled away and gazed at the remaining paintings, where the hero and villain of the story depended on the paintbrush holder. Often, the villain and hero were one and the same.

I'd endured enough of Professor Whistle's history lessons in this Round to understand that after a successful revolution and the downfall of the previous regime, no matter how tyrannical, a dangerous void often emerged, usually filled with violence and cruelty. Time and time again, a new and even more corrupt regime would seize power and rewrite history to justify their actions, vilifying the previous regime to appear even more horrid and their conquest heroically just. Until another upheaval inevitably took place.

I rounded the corner of the staircase and continued downward, running my hand over the smoothly polished stone stair rail.

I wonder if this one will be any different.

Just because Arcane Financial Group was toppled today didn't mean everyone could suddenly go prancing through the fields and have a picnic. People still needed a means of earning coin and feeding themselves and their families. With Arcane Financial Group gone, a vacuum would appear, leading to further chaos.

Thus, Arcane Financial Group's sub-companies needed to continue operating to retain order within the nation. However, a proper restructuring would have to be implemented to eliminate the slave conditions while maintaining profitability.

The compromise I made with the revolutionaries in return for my help was that once all the enemies were subdued and rounded up, they would be imprisoned for continued information extraction, or if they were found to be of no use, they'd head off to the guillotine.

Regardless of how the revolution panned out in reality, I saw little benefit in sticking around. My main purpose was to improve my illusion-making skills and learn about this region. Having met my objectives, there was little point in staying long enough to watch any heads roll.

Why needlessly test my Sanity and lose Intelligence points?

I gazed up at a large portrait of a woman resembling Lady Shuzen. Near the bottom of the stairs, there were no more battles. Only beautiful oil-painted portraits hung on the walls.

This particular painting depicted a regal woman with sharp dark brown eyes reflecting wisdom and experience. Her grey hair was styled in an elaborate updo adorned with jeweled golden pins. Bright emerald earrings dangled from her ears, and she wore a relaxed silk green gown embroidered with golden threads.

She was Lady Shuzen's "aunt," or so the sham went. Having never met her, I didn't know how the now-gone matriarch appeared, but I suspected any resemblance was a creative liberty of the artist's hand.

I squinted at the recognizable soft brush strokes.

Be it because my Illusion Magic level had reached Level 45, or simply because I had trained under Lady Shuzen in the art of drawing and painting, but I had gained an eye for certain details. The portrait of the late Lady Shuzen Senior was painted by Lady Shuzen herself.

Lady Shuzen wasn't always Lady Shuzen.

Jasper's words echoed in my memory.

The story went that Lady Shuzen's parents had been of some importance in the past, but they had gone bankrupt and committed suicide, leaving behind their ten-year-old daughter. The late matriarch took her niece in as she was Lady Shuzen's closest relative; the rest was history.

In truth, the relation was paper-thin and at least four times removed, but it sufficed for the matriarch's needs. Moreover, Lady Shuzen Senior didn't take in the young Lady Shuzen out of goodwill but because she couldn't tolerate a lowly Leirvant as her primary maid. She preferred someone with some blood relation, even if they were from a ruined family that succumbed to slavedom. A similar name might have helped as well.

Lady Shuzen had no formal education, as her parents had worked long hours as Leirvants for five years before committing suicide. Only good manners and high-class social etiquette had been instilled into the girl before their passing, which was all that mattered to the late matriarch.

I stopped at the bottom of the staircase and gazed up at the most elaborately framed painting in the mansion. The late matriarch sat in an armchair, a shell of her former magnitude compared to the painting I had passed earlier. Behind her, with a firm hand on each of the elderly woman's shoulders, stood a radiant Lady Shuzen.

"They look close here, don't they?" Jasper commented beside me, taking in the painting as well.

I nodded.

The portrait, also conveniently painted by Lady Shuzen, evidently showed the resemblance and close relation of aunt and niece. However, based on what Lady Shuzen divulged during our painting lessons, this was hardly the reality for most of her life.

Working for the matriarch was back-breaking, filled with insults and thrown vases. But it allowed her to accompany the matriarch to extravagant parties, such as the one where she met Jasper in the first place. She made the mistake of betting all she owned, which was not much, in a gamble against Jasper. She lost. This was hardly surprising, but what was surprising was what happened shortly after her devastating loss to him.

The scales of luck shifted massively after that. The late Lady Shuzen's mind began to slip, and she referred to the young Lady Shuzen as her beloved niece and treated her kindly, even behind closed doors. Her status as a Leirvant evaporated into thin air, and upon the elderly woman's death, the young Lady Shuzen inherited all that she had.

Now, with the restructuring of the kingdom and Lady Shuzen's critical role in the downfall of the previous regime, she was going to gain even more prestige.

An odd thought occurred to me.

"Does everyone who loses to you in a gamble do so well after?" I turned to Jasper.

His freckled face smiled back, shrugging. "They usually do. That's why I typically prefer future favors over actual winnings."

I walked through the portal and pulled out the golden lucky coin. I twirled it between my fingers, watching it glimmer as it caught the light. Its description had explained that overuse would cause the scales of luck to shift in the opposite direction to equalize matters. What was to say that Jasper's overwhelming luck at gambling didn't offer a similar repercussion to the benefit of those who lost to him? Perhaps some would even wager a bet against him, hoping to lose to gain something much more valuable down the line.

"You'd have a lot of people attend your funeral if you died," I murmured, thinking back to the impressive guests who paid respects at his burial ceremony in my first life.

Jasper laughed. "I'd very much prefer to live a long life. Now, what bet do you wish to make?"

"You said you'd won a mage tower recently?" I asked.

"That's right, I did," Jasper replied. A grin on his freckled face appeared, knowing what I was thinking already. "A haunted one at that."

"Care to take a quick detour to explore it before going to Bren?" I asked. But the question was rhetorical.

The golden coin shot into the air after I made the obligatory bet with Japser.

To no one's surprise, it landed heads.