Night fell.

The brightly lit imperial capital stood still as its people gazed up at the mountain where the Empire Guardian resided, its peak shimmering with radiant light.

No one noticed the white-haired girl weaving through the crowd beside them—perhaps because her disguise was undetectable without real power.

That girl was none other than Kevin Jaeger, his slender frame clad in a maid uniform that left his tempting legs bare. Not wearing stockings was his last act of defiance.

“I’ve been holed up in the palace for nearly fifty years. Stepping out feels… off,” Kevin muttered, finally squeezing free of the throng to reach a quieter spot. He hadn’t used spatial magic—it drained mana reserves too fast.

He still hadn’t adapted to this body’s magic circuits. Just casting a spell earlier was a miracle; restoring mana was a pipe dream.

Besides, he didn’t want to trouble his subordinates. If they saw him like this, their fuss would stir up a storm. He’d change back soon anyway.

A wave of gloom washed over Kevin’s face. He gritted his teeth, silently vowing:

“It’s just an annulment. Fine, I’ll annul it all. System, you want a show? I’ll give you one. East of the river for thirty years, west for thirty more—never scorn the youth in poverty.”

But that backwater village? Reaching Fifth Rank there was a blessing. His fiancée probably hadn’t survived this long.

Was she already buried? He’d have to visit her clan later to check.

Wait.

Would he end up digging up her grave, reciting that line to a pile of bones? That’d be seriously creepy.

After all, cultivation here was simple: martial arts before Seventh Rank, immortality after.

“First, I need proper clothes—not this dress,” Kevin grumbled, his exquisite face twisted in disgust. He tugged at the maid uniform’s hem with delicate fingers. Only desperation had forced him into it. His pale blue eyes spotted a quiet clothing shop, and he headed straight in.

The doorbell jingled as the door swung open—but no one was there. The shopkeeper’s “Welcome!” died on his lips.

Bewildered, the old man scratched his head and returned to work.

Only one male customer paused his browsing. His pale blue eyes locked onto the white-haired girl nearby—then lost interest just as quickly.

“Haven’t shopped for clothes in ages. When was the last time?” Kevin mused aloud, alone in his confidence. “Fifty years ago? Whatever.”

After rummaging through forgotten corners, he found a worn mage robe. It fit perfectly, felt comfortable (crucially), and looked awful—but he didn’t care.

“Good. Time to go.”

Satisfied with his reflection, Kevin turned to leave. Years without shopping had made him forget to pay. His slender hand nearly touched the doorknob when—

“Hey! You haven’t paid!”

A deep voice snapped his attention. He saw a man who looked six parts like Gali. Their pale blue eyes met, sparking something strange.

Kevin’s first instinct was to flee—this man resembled Gali too closely, almost familiar. But he calmed down. The man was well-dressed, groomed, and spoke politely—nothing like Gali’s rough tone.

The world was big. Look-alikes happened. This was just a payment reminder. Kevin sighed in relief.

He opened a mana space in his palm, pulled out a precious gem, and slammed it onto the counter. Without waiting for change, he bolted.

The shopkeeper stared, dumbfounded. A gem had just materialized out of nowhere.

“Strange. He’s only a Seventh Rank mage. How did he see through my disguise? Unless he knows the magic’s principles…” Kevin murmured on a dimly lit side street, silver hair catching the flickering light. His flawless face creased with confusion.

This spell was his original creation. Few knew its secrets.

“Eh, I’ll never see him again. Better catch the Magic Airship early. Finish this mission fast.”

At the ticket booth, he learned all flights to Roshe City were sold out. Not even extra gems helped.

“Miss, tickets are gone. Money won’t fix this,” the clerk stammered, eyeing the mountain of gems on the counter.

“One, I’m a man. Two, clearly money isn’t the solution.”

Kevin considered bending the rules. Spatial magic from this distance would drain his last mana reserves—risky.

Wait three days for the next Magic Airship? As he weighed his options, a voice cut through his thoughts.

“Hey. Need a ride?”

Kevin’s slender body trembled slightly. He almost covered his face—but stopped. Few remembered this face anymore.