Leaving the wide-eyed tailors behind to begin their enchanted work, Barn turned toward the adjacent private washroom to strip away the lingering dust and grime of the slums.
Stepping into the steaming anteroom, Barn reduced his clothing down to just his underwear, a large white towel slung securely over his shoulder to protect his basic dignity.
He found himself surrounded by the cadre of young maids who had escorted him upstairs.
The atmosphere inside the humid room grew instantly charged—a quiet, predatory tension hanging in the air like a sudden drop in pressure.
Barn felt as though he were standing amidst a pack of eager hunters, or perhaps, given his true nature, a group of unsuspecting prey lingering around a sleeping predator.
He had never bothered to inspect his own physique in a mirror, but he didn’t need to.
He knew his body was extraordinarily healthy—sculpted, dense, and physically superior to almost anyone in this realm.
The maids tried desperately to maintain their professional composure, standing in neat rows, but their flushed cheeks and heavy, erratic breathing betrayed their composure.
A few of the older senior maids managed to keep their expressions neutral, yet even they couldn’t resist occasionally letting their eyes wander over his broad shoulders, his chiseled core, and the distinct bulge beneath his thin, damp cloth.
Barn let out a low, quiet sigh.
He could feel the dangerous, playful temptation radiating from them, though he knew they wouldn’t actually push their bounds.
To these young women, he was merely a fascinating, sudden amusement brought into the quiet estate by Lady Rosalina—a handsome mystery to be admired from up close.
He stepped toward the center of the washroom, where a massive marble bath bubbled softly, filled to the brim with steaming water.
It had been infused with rare flower perfumes, rich essential oils, and dissolved mineral salts meant to enhance skin radiance and softness.
Truthfully, Barn had no use for such artificial concoctions; his body naturally released a faint, subtle scent reminiscent of deep forest oak and rain-soaked earth—a scent that only seemed to draw the maids closer.
Sinking into the warm, soothing water, Barn leaned his head back against the smooth marble rim.
The maids approached in quiet, synchronized motion.
Standing at a polite distance, they began their work, dipping soft linen cloths into the scented bath to scrub his skin, massaging rich soap into his shoulders, and working a fragrant herbal shampoo into his dark hair.
Their touch was gentle yet lingering, every press of their hands accompanied by quiet, muffled giggles.
’Huh…
I feel like a cat trapped in a room full of overly affectionate young ladies,’ Barn thought dryly, feeling the oppressive weight of their undivided attention press down on him.
Ting!
Suddenly, a crisp, ethereal ring resonated deep within his consciousness—a prompt that felt intimately familiar.
[NOTIFICATION]
Event: You have demonstrated your supreme craft capability and enlightened the two Master Tailors. This story is hosted at g.com.
Your demonstration opened a path of ascension for them, expanding their baseline growth and spiritual potential.
New Class Unlocked: Magic Weaver (Rare) — Level 2
[NEW SKILLS ACQUIRED]
Telekinesis: Enables the user to physically levitate, manipulate, and control objects or living entities at a distance using refined aura or concentrated Mana.
Magic Thread: Grants the ability to manifest filaments imbued with dense magical properties.
The threads are physically indestructible and feature extreme resistance against offensive spells.
Magic Slash: Condenses raw Mana along any sharp edge—such as a blade’s edge, fingernails, or fingertips—firing a lethal magical arc capable of slicing through physical matter and spell barriers based on Mana purity and physical strength.
Barn let out a quiet, satisfied smile beneath the surface as he processed the unexpected gains.
Feeling thoroughly pleased with the rewards of his casual demonstration, he submerged himself fully under the aromatic water for an instant, letting the pure mana within the bath align with his newly acquired class pathways.
An hour later, Barn stepped out of the washroom completely dried, groomed, and thoroughly refreshed.
Waiting near the tall dressing mirrors were the two Magic Tailors.
Their faces were deathly pale, their eyes sunken from the sheer exhaustion of channeling high-grade magic for sixty minutes straight, yet their gazes burned with absolute artistic triumph.
Barn had no idea that by casually supplying them with hyper-condensed Mana Thread, he had permanently altered their spiritual matrices—giving birth to two master artisans who would go on to transcend their peers and spark a new era of Great Fashion Mages throughout the continent.
Resting on a velvet-lined display stand before him was the completed garment.
It was a striking, high-collared coat crafted from deep shadow-black fabric that seemed to absorb the light around it.
Intricate, faint silver runes—woven directly from Barn’s mana thread—ran along the cuffs, lapels, and hemline.
Beneath the coat sat a fitted charcoal vest, a crisp white shirt, and tailored trousers paired with polished leather riding boots.
The moment Barn put on the coat, the fabric reacted instantly to his mind.
With a quiet, barely audible hum, the coat subtly shifted its cut to fit his frame with absolute perfection.
With a simple thought, the obsidian color faded smoothly into a deep, regal midnight-blue before shifting seamlessly back to shadow-black.
The maids lined up along the upper hallway gasped softly, covering their mouths.
The faded slum dweller was completely gone; standing before them was a man who carried the heavy, unbothered elegance of an enigmatic lord from an ancient, forgotten house.
Downstairs in the main reception hall, the atmosphere remained deathly still.
Rosalina stood near the arched glass windows, sipping a cup of hot black tea while skimming through a thick stack of intelligence scrolls.
Her eyes darted across the parchment, absorbing reports on the royal court’s recent movements, the Crown Prince’s public engagements, and the rising influence of Lady Nyxara Nightbane—the formidable, sharp-tongued villainess of the original narrative.
’The Crown Prince thinks he has the entire board under his thumb,’ Rosalina thought, her lips curling into a cold, contemptuous smile as she set her teacup down on a silver saucer.
‘He intends to use Lady Nyxara as a political scapegoat, publically humiliate her at the Royal Gala, and pave the way for his precious heroine…
all while my adoptive house prepares to cast me aside the moment their biological daughter appears.’
Hearing the rhythmic clack of polished boots against the marble stairs, Rosalina turned around.
Her breath caught in her throat.
For a second, her sharp, calculating composure completely shattered.
Her brown eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of Barn descending into the hall.
The shadow-black coat swayed gracefully with his relaxed stride, his dark eyes fixing upon hers with effortless confidence.
The transformation was so absolute that she almost failed to recognize the man she had pulled out of a rotting wooden house two hours prior.
”Well?” Barn asked, stopping a few paces away with a faint, amused smirk.
“Does this suit your grand stage, Lady Rosalina?”
Rosalina quickly recovered her composure, a subtle flush dusting her cheeks as she stepped closer, reaching out to inspect the intricate mana runes running along his collar.
”It will do,” she said, her voice smooth, refined, and rich with newfound confidence.
“In fact…
it’s far better than I expected.”
She turned her gaze back toward the arched window, looking out past the estate’s stone walls toward the distant, shimmering spires of the Royal Palace rising high above the Capital skyline.
’They all think the story is already written,’ she murmured softly, her fingers tightening into a resolute fist at her side.
‘They have no idea who just stepped onto their stage.’