Magus was the title given to mages who had formed four mana circles and created a new sub-element branch of magic, pushing the boundaries of arcane knowledge far beyond what ordinary mages could achieve.
The title itself carried enormous prestige. A Magus was not merely a powerful spellcaster but someone who had advanced the very foundations of magic, and throughout history, every individual who had earned that title had eventually become one of the defining figures of their era.
And now Elias’s second wife was calmly declaring that she would become the strongest and greatest Magus in history.
Not merely the strongest Magus of her generation.
The strongest of the past, present, and future.
Considering her current condition, Elias couldn’t help thinking that it sounded more like an outrageous declaration than a realistic goal. Monica couldn’t even leave her bed without risking the lives of everyone around her, and the poison inside her body had already reduced her once-brilliant magical career to a distant memory.
Still, Elias wasn’t the kind of person who would crush someone’s hopes simply because their dream seemed impossible.
If Monica wanted to become the greatest Magus in history, then there was no reason for him to tell her that she couldn’t.
Besides, Elias had already witnessed enough strange things since arriving at the manor to know that impossible might not be as impossible as it sounded.
He glanced toward Monica and noticed the faint amusement in her bright blue eyes.
"Why are you here?" Monica asked, a mischievous glint appearing in her eyes. "You aren’t thinking of doing something weird to me, right?"
Elias shook his head.
"No," he said calmly. "I came here to bathe you."
Monica immediately fell silent. For several seconds, she simply stared at him. Then a faint flush spread across her cheeks, and she stammered, "B-Bathe me? What do you think I am? A pet? Leave my room."
Elias blinked.
Heh. She is acting like a cat that is scared of getting wet...
He couldn’t help thinking that the great Arcane Flower looked considerably less intimidating when she was embarrassed.
"I’m just doing what I’m responsible for," Elias said.
"You are responsible for bathing me?" Monica asked incredulously. "A direct heir from the Crimson Ducal Clan?"
Elias nodded.
"I’m responsible for everything related to my wives."
Monica frowned deeply.
"What do you mean, wives—"
Before she could finish, a familiar voice came from the doorway.
"Husband!"
Elias turned his head.
Stella was standing outside the room, peeking through the doorway with a wide smile.
Monica’s expression changed as she looked toward Stella.
Stella stared back at her. For several seconds, neither woman said anything. Then Stella narrowed her crimson eyes.
"Weird," she mumbled.
Elias looked between them.
"What is weird?"
Stella didn’t answer. Instead, she suddenly lifted the small pouch of sugar fruits in front of her face with both hands, her expression brightening again.
"Husband!" she exclaimed. "These sugar fruits appeared beside my bed. It must have been the sugar fruits fairy!"
Elias stared at her.
He had personally ordered the maids to purchase them, but judging by the way Stella’s eyes sparkled, correcting her would probably ruin the fun.
"Yes," Elias said after a moment. "It must have been the sugar fruits fairy."
Stella nodded enthusiastically.
"I knew it!"
She hugged the pouch against her chest.
Elias smiled faintly before pointing toward the corridor.
"Stella, can you go play with Natasha? She should be in my room."
Stella smiled and said cheerfully, "Okay.
She took one step backward, then suddenly stopped. Her smile disappeared, her shoulders slowly slouched, and she stared at Elias with suspicion.
"Why is she in your room? Were you two playing? Why didn’t you invite me?"
Her eyes began filling with tears.
’For god’s sake.’ Elias immediately raised a hand toward his forehead.
"We weren’t playing," he said patiently. "If we were, I would have called you."
Stella stared at him.
For a moment, Elias thought she had accepted his explanation.
Then Monica’s voice came from behind him.
"Lies," Monica said with a wicked smile. "They were probably playing. A very sweaty and intense game at that."
Elias slowly turned his head toward her.
Monica’s smile widened.
"He probably wanted you there as well, though."
Stella’s eyes immediately became watery.
"Husband..."
Elias let out a tired sigh.
As far as he remembered, he hadn’t signed up for drama.
Stella turned around, clutched the pouch of sugar fruits against her chest, and rushed down the corridor.
"I hate you!"
Her voice gradually disappeared into the distance.
Elias stood there in silence. Then he slowly turned toward Monica.
She was still smiling.
"Why did you say that?" Elias asked flatly.
Monica shrugged.
"Heh. What else should I say about a bastard who somehow has three wives?" she asked, her amusement obvious. "Tch. Tch. Most men would dream of having such luck."
Elias clenched his fist and closed his eyes.
It wasn’t like I wanted to marry three women.
His eyes sharpened, and without a word, he stepped over to Monica’s bed.
She smiled at him with amusement and said, "Don’t stare at me like that. I might get scared."
He didn’t say anything, and the next moment, he moved his hand under her and picked her up from the bed in a single motion.
Monica’s eyes widened, and she stuttered, "W-What are you doing?! Put me down!"
A wicked smile appeared on his face, and he said, "It’s time for you to get cleaned up."
"Don’t you dare!" She hissed.
Elias chuckled, covered her with the dark blanket, and walked into the bathroom.
She stared at him as though she was about to murder him, but Elias simply ignored her.
As they stepped into the bathroom, Elias asked, "Do you feel cold?"
She looked away from his face, a faint blush on her face, and said, "No... I don’t feel anything. I can’t even feel your hands on me."
Elias frowned slightly but said nothing.
He took off her blanket and made her sit on a stool without looking at her.
"Are you doing this cause you want to look at my body?"
A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes, and he humouredly whispered in his ear, "What if I am?"
Her pale face turned red, and she stuttered, "I-I look like a corpse though."
He frowned and slowly, carefully poured water on her before adding, "You don’t. You look beautiful."
Monica lowered her head in embarrassment, and an orange screen flickered before Elias.
[Ding!]
[Affection Rate is increasing.]
[Monica Ragnar’s Affection Rate: 1]