Oh, everyone knows about Sator Merchant Group. Born from the Luminus Kingdom, this behemoth of commerce had its roots dug deep in the soil of ambition and cunning.

A flicker of fate had set the stage forty winters ago when a humble merchant family, the Sators, dared to dream big in a world where only the ruthless thrived.

With shrewd deals and silk-tongued negotiations, they climbed the ladder of success until their name rang through the lands like a symphony of wealth. Some years ago, they had managed to become the second largest and richest merchant group in the whole continent.

But oh, nothing lasts forever in the realm of power and prestige. Five or six turns of the moon ago, the former mastermind behind the Sator Merchant Group, Gabriel di Sator, took his final breath, leaving behind a legacy as murky as a swamp at dusk. He had birthed only one heir, a son shrouded in more mystery than a cat in the night.

Legends whispered of this elusive figure, whose identity and face remained as elusive as a ghost in the fog. Tales spun by drunken bards claimed even the all-seeing eye of the King of Inkia had never glimpsed this phantom heir.

Some said he wore a mask of silver; others swore he danced with shadows under the pale light of the moon.

As the diabolical machinations of the Sator Merchant Group continued unabated, whispers grew louder and wilder about the lost scion of the Sator bloodline. Had he vanished into thin air, or perhaps melted into the golden coffers of his father's empire?

Well, no matter where he was, he existed. Sometimes his people would pop up unceremoniously, walking around town, visiting both legal and illegal auctions. His last recorded activity was his purchase of two high mastery weapons a year ago in an auction.

And so, in the heart of the Inkia Kingdom, where secrets tangled like ivy on ancient walls, the legacy of the enigmatic Sator Merchant Group thrived, its shadow stretching far and wide over lands both near and far… until—

“Are you sure? You’re not imagining it?”

“What do you mean by imagining it? I heard it clearly! They called him Sator! That Sator!”

“What’s his name?”

“Uh… what was it? Something… something di Sator!”

“Ugh! Why are you so unreliable at times like this?”

In the bustling crowd awaiting the Saint Lucia Academy entrance test, Locan Inkor found himself engulfed in the surrounding commotions.

"Oh dear, looks like we've got a contender for the spotlight, Brother. Seems like your charm isn't the only one turning heads today," Blair remarked, squeezing Locan's hand just a tad tighter.

Locan swiveled to face his beaming younger sister, all of 11 years old and ready to step into the academy.

Lucky her, basking in the favor of her dear older brother who happened to be the illustrious first prince of Inkia. Without him, she might as well kiss the idea of education goodbye, let alone venturing beyond the palace walls.

Despite his mother, a favored queen in the king's court, not exactly warming up to Blair, she graciously permitted Locan to offer his support to the young lass, one of the many illegitimate princesses populating Inkia.

Ah, but Blair possessed a certain wit and innate understanding of where she belonged in the grand scheme of things. It didn't hurt that she could potentially be used as a pawn in some high-stakes political marriage down the road.

After all, nothing says "family alliance" quite like a forced union packaged with a shiny bow of coercion, agreement, status elevation, and a dash of good old-fashioned bribery.

Well, that’s for the future.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"It's surprising. There is no new information about the Sator family as of late. Did Mother miss something? That's impossible," Locan muttered under his breath, his brow furrowed in deep thought.

Such a significant development would undoubtedly spark rumors and intrigue, spreading like wildfire through the political circles and beyond, even with the smallest, most discreet hint.

"Should I investigate for you, Brother? After all, it seems this Sator boy is also taking the entrance exam," Blair asked.

Locan laughed, tapping Blair’s head affectionately. “Why you? There’s plenty of other people we can ask for the details later. You just focus on your test.”

“Locan!”

From quite a distance, Locan saw someone he knew, waving her hand at him. “Oh, Naha!”

Nahwu sprinted toward them, their guards parting to allow her to come closer. She said, “I don’t know what happens, but apparently the mysterious heir of a rich merchant or something is joining the exam. Hi Blair!”

Blair bowed respectfully at her, “Hello, Princess Nahwu.”

“That can’t be. Gabriel di Sator’s son can’t be that young. Could it be… his grandson?” Locan speculated.

Blair and Nahwu tilted their heads.

"What about it? What can one kid's presence change anyway? I'm sure Blair will still come out as the best,” Nahwu said, oozing confidence.

“You think this is just about the entrance test?” Locan groaned. Dealing with the elf princess's naivety sometimes felt like a burden. “The sudden appearance of someone from a very influential family that was previously untouchable can change a lot of people’s lives, you know?”

“Why? Are they bad people?” Nahwu asked, her curiosity shining through.

“Who cares if they're good or bad people. Most people here are just focusing on what they can get from them. Whether they had good or bad intentions, people will still seek them out and curry favor with them,” Locan’s sarcasm dripped more than usual that day.

Nahwu shot Locan a disapproving look. “That’s such a twisted way of judging people around you, Locan. You should stop doing that. You’re a Prince!”

Locan fought the urge to roll his eyes. This was precisely why discussing politics with Nahwu was like walking on eggshells. Sure, she had brains and brawn, but her surface level understanding of things made her an easy target for coercion and manipulation.

"Ah, the entrance test is about to begin. I've got to go!" Nahwu said.

Locan raised his eyebrows. "Wait, what are you doing here today anyway?"

"I'm helping the academy for the test, of course!" Nahwu left as she exclaimed, answering his question.

"I have to go too, Brother. Please pray for my success," Blair said.

Seeing how excited his sister was, Locan could only smile. "Of course. You are the best Vision art user in your generation. You will come out as the best. Even Princess Nahwu said the same thing, right?"

"No, Brother, you're wrong. I'm not the best Vision art user in my generation," Blair shook her head.

"What?" Locan blinked. "Who else is…"

"Did you forget that there's still the little Merlin?" Blair recalled with a smile.

Locan sighed helplessly. "Are you still saying that? Didn't I tell you not to believe every rumor and information out there? Yvain Edensworn is a literal king, and his master, Morgan Le Fay, is famously Edensor Royal Family's friend. His ability could have been exaggerated for political purposes."

"Well, you also said that there's some truth to rumors, right?" Blair said.

Yes, Yvain Edensworn’s achievements could be exaggerated. After all, he was a young king seeking all the support he could get, whether through lies or truths.

Must be tough ruling a kingdom at such a tender age. And being the one and only pupil of the legendary witch, Morgan Le Fay, well, that was some next-level achievement.

Every Vision user out there probably had fantasized about being under the tutelage of the Infinite Witch at some points in their lives. But hey, there was no need to lose sleep over Yvain Edensworn's accomplishments.

This entrance test should be a walk in the park for Blair. Of course one day, she would get every opportunity to face him, but now, getting into the academy was more important.

And there was no need to worry about being defeated by the little Merlin now—

BUMP!

“Ah!”

Blair was a small girl. Other girls around her age had started puberty and grown taller.

But Blair was an illegitimate princess, living in a corner of the palace. She had experienced malnutrition at some points in her life thanks to the queens and their people’s intentional neglect as well. That was the reason she had a smaller build and thin, underdeveloped body.

For one, she was a bit glad that was the case. She could stall time and not be sold for a political marriage too soon because she hadn’t gotten her period yet, and thanks to her pitiful, sickly appearance, she even got the favor from the first prince.

She was finally able to get a chance to enter the academy thanks to that too.

But the cons sometimes outweighed the pros.

Her body was so weak she got easily shoved around in this crowd—

GRASP!

A blonde-haired boy caught her body.

“Careful there.”

Blair had never seen such a beautif—handsome boy. But she immediately widened her eyes when she saw the familiar emblem of the Sator Merchant Group—

"Too many people are trying to enter the gate now. Let’s wait a bit,” the boy said as he pulled her away from the crowds.

“Ah… thank you,” Blair said. “My name is Blair Inkor.”

“Oh,” the boy raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry for not recognizing you, Your Highness.”

Politely, the boy bowed to her, an illegitimate princess with no power over her own blood, and said, “My name is Evan di Sator, son of Morgante and Bunny Fay di Sator.”