398 – #1. Wedding March Irid -1

Clutching a letter dearly to my chest, I stopped Aisha, who was traversing the living room in a bunny girl outfit, and declared with a grave expression.

“It has arrived.”

“What has.”

Indifferent. Aisha turned to look at me with an expression that screamed ‘I couldn’t care less’. Simultaneously, a spoonful of annoyance was also included, she seemed to be fuming that she lost to me in a stake-game of chess to determine who wears the bunny-girl costume.

It mattered little. Aisha needed to respect this letter. Seeing as she didn’t seem to grasp the depth of my excitement, I emphasized once more.

“It’s *here*!”

“So what’s here! Answer properly, Papa!”

“An invitation, from His Imperial Majesty, Irid!”

Yes.

At last, Irid and Sentra would formally be wed. How wonderful that my creation and my friend were being joined in such a felicitous union!

But that wasn’t all.

“And look at the letter. Here, it says ‘To my dear Blackraven Hanyul. Leave the wedding arrangements to me, and come empty-handed as a guest.’ You see the warmth in that, eh?!”

“Sounds more like he’s terrified you’ll do something weird. And just for the record, what *were* you planning to do at the wedding?”

“I now have a mission to ensure the wedding is a roaring success. A flash mob of 100 holograms, maybe a killer mad-movie montage of Irid, or perhaps a celebratory song…”

*Tsk tsk.*

Aisha, standing askew, wagged her finger.

“Papa, lower yourself.”

“Huh?”

I obediently bent my knees, lowering my head to about the level of Aisha’s chest. *Shashashak*, a vise-like headlock descended upon me.

*KWaaaCK──!*

“『Physical Circlet』.”

“aaagh!”

“He told you to come as a GUEST. Don’t even think about embarrassing the family. Go, and do. Nothing! Don’t get carried away by your excitement!”

“But…!!”

But the overwhelming desire to do *something*, anything! The internal bond I felt wouldn’t be quieted by mere attendance.

I had to do something. I couldn’t resist the thought.

“Hmph…”

Aisha sighed, patting the back of my head still locked against her chest. The rush of blood, the whirring of internal organs, were startlingly clear. Her body functioned like that of a healthy human.

She was still a powerful illusionist, but after the subjugation of the Black Dragon, she had grown closer to humanity.

When had our daughter developed such empathy? Before, I was lucky if she didn’t simply punch me. The realization pinched at my heart, strangely.

Aisha’s movements weren’t the affectionate patting of a parent, but rather the seeking of optimal leverage.

“Hup!”

*Krkk.*

My neck snapped, and I was face-down on the floor.

Aisha dusted her hands off, declaring,

“Enough with the nonsense. Get permission from the mothers before you pull anything. If things go sideways again, I’m telling Yuri.”

“⋯⋯Hngh.”

A chill ran down my spine!

Aisha’s warning was truly overwhelming.

Ever since ‘the Family’ took shape, Yuri naturally assumed the role of our household’s stern judge.

Whether it was stealing Selvier’s pudding, forgetting meals while absorbed in research, or accidentally damaging the Magic Tower while playing with Aisha.

Whenever I committed such transgressions, former Agent Yuri Ranster would say,

‘To the Love Room.’

And being dragged to that dreadful room meant… I’d become a dried-up squid, bedridden for three days. Yuri, acting purely on instinct without a shred of consideration, is terrifying…

Aisha left me sprawled on the floor and went to do her own thing.

Mm.

Just another day in the domestic WWE.

Even *I* wouldn’t dream of staging a hundred-clone flash mob, all resembling the groom’s wife, at a friend’s wedding. I just got excited after receiving the invitation and pulled a prank to vent a little.

Alright, time for some serious thought. What kind of ‘wedding gift’ could I offer that would unequivocally benefit Irid and Centra?

Normally, giving money would suffice – but the recipient is Emperor Irid. No matter how often people say it’s the thought that counts, not the amount, isn’t it akin to handing a five-dollar bill to an oil tycoon?

Furthermore, it feels far too insignificant for my talents. If I’m a grand mage capable of running simulated worlds and snapping black dragon necks, shouldn’t my wedding gift reflect that?

Context and background are key.

It’s the Emperor’s wedding, after all. This won’t be some small family gathering; it’ll be a world-class event, drawing people from across the continent.

Even the rarely outgoing ‘Azure Magic Tower’ will send emissaries, and likely royalty from neighboring kingdoms too.

This is too big to ponder alone. I’ll need to gather my wives and seek their counsel.

—

The discussion lasted all of five seconds.

“Shouldn’t we just offer our congratulations…? He’s the Emperor; he’ll probably receive mountains of gifts anyway.”

“That’s not the point, Hanyul oppa, I think. His Imperial Majesty is His Imperial Majesty, but when are *we* getting married?”

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

The debate about what to give as a wedding gift to Irid took a sudden detour, morphing into a conversation about *our* own wedding. Selvier and Yuna’s eyes flared with determination.

It’s been about three months since I beheaded that black dragon. And yet, we still haven’t held a ceremony. Not that there was a specific reason preventing it.

Hearing about the Roderus family gearing up for a wedding, I figured maybe it’d be better to postpone ours a bit, so they didn’t overlap by 20%.

“No, um. We’ll do it. We *will*, but… isn’t it alright to take things slow? We’re practically married already, you know.”

“No need to rush things, surely?” That thought accounted for 20%.

The remaining 60% remained a secret.

At this, Selbierre and Yuna practically burst into flames.

“But it’s not the same as a proper marriage! I mean, we want to have our names, and Oppa’s, officially etched onto the documents, with the imperial seal stamped on it!”

“Mhm, mhm. We want it recorded for all time, and…we want to experience the wedding itself! Wearing a wedding dress, in front of guests, right? Yuri thinks so too, doesn’t she?!”

Yuri Lanster, lounging on the sofa in a sharply tailored suit while working on a crossword puzzle, glanced over here, then coolly replied,

“No.”

“Why?!”

Yuna yelped, her voice bordering on a chirp, in utter astonishment. Yuri, calmly and logically, explained,

“I want to savor every stage of the relationship. The connection after becoming spouses, and before, isn’t the same, wouldn’t you agree? Perhaps we should consummate the relationship at least 120 times before considering marriage.”

“…Hearing it put that way, it almost makes sense…?”

Selbierre, seeing Yuna teetering on the edge of agreement, swiftly pulled her into a hug, exclaiming,

“Ah, no! We need to get officially married quickly, so we can…put up a defense! Think about it, Yuna unnie! Imagine Hanyul Oppa catches the eye of another woman, and the bride count increases…!”

“That, that I’d want to prevent…!”

Hearing that, Yuna glared at me with fierce determination and a charmingly stern expression. But I suspected her worries were unfounded.

I’d spent a long time with the Archmage, Yuri and I got along since she had a bit of strange personality of her own , and Selbierre was a childhood friend, so that’s how things unfolded. I had no desire to add anyone else to the mix.

Besides, I was starting to worry about threats to my life. If the headcount increased any further, I’d have to be careful of dying from…overexertion.

Moreover.

Thinking about it objectively, I wasn’t exactly…the most competitive husband material, was I? These three had unique tastes and fell for me, but I wasn’t generally popular with the average woman.

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is. The female students at the academy all despised me.”

“That’s because you create things like the Great Labyrinth. If you just kept your mouth shut and remained silent, you’d be handsome, and now you are widely known to be a close aide to the Emperor…! Marriage requests might flood in from noble ladies!”

Such an ambitious fantasy.

It was true that my position as a close aide to the Emperor was common knowledge, but my epithet was, mind you, ‘Mad Magician.’ How many people would send their daughters to such a guy?

Selbierre, being a cheetah at heart, seemed eager to kick away the ladder so that any potential latecomers wouldn’t even get a foot in the door.

I needed to tame her venom a bit.

“Come here, Selbierre.”

“…”

Selbierre, while still sending daggers my way, scurried over and nestled snugly into my arms. I stroked her head, lowering her venom-gauge.

She was probably insecure. But I hoped she could wait just a little longer. I had something in the works.

Selbier’s eyes were half-closed, as if he were slightly dozing. When Yuna peeked and fidgeted beside him, he pulled her into his embrace as well.

“We still haven’t decided on Irid’s wedding gift, have we?” I asked, tilting my head. “Yuri, any ideas?”

“There’s something only you can do. Let’s go with that,” she replied.

“Hm?”

“Clothing, of course. Create a whole bunch of outfits that haven’t quite reached this era. It’s practically helpful and uniquely you.”

Ah.

Right, there are those great inventions of human civilization: bunny suits, cheongsams, leotards, fishnets!

A multi-costume gift set would surely please our Emperor. Good. Now that the gift is decided, I should begin production.

“While you’re at it, make one for me too,” Yuri requested.

“……..”

“M-Me too… make one for me as well…”

Selbier wordlessly tapped his forehead against my chest. He was too embarrassed to ask directly, but it seemed to be a signal for me to make one for him too.

Yes, world-class illusion magic is meant to be used for things like this.

With a joyful heart, I began crafting the gifts.

—

Crownhall, the Imperial Capital. Third floor of the Imperial Palace. Irid’s office.

The room was decorated in a modern style, without extravagance. The scent of rosemary hung in the air. Irid was battling a mountain of documents, managing the affairs of the Empire.

In the vast lands of the Empire, countless incidents occurred. Not all required the Emperor’s direct intervention, but intervention generally improved matters.

Therefore, he did. Irid wanted to make this nation as close to utopia as possible, so he made every effort within his power.

However, it was not a solitary struggle. Because…

“I’ve prepared black tea today… and homemade scones!”

“Thank you, Centra, as always.”

He had such a steadfast ally supporting him.

He also had a clear purpose. A haven for his heart. A comfortable body. He couldn’t be in better condition to deal with the work. Bring forth the documents. He was more than ready to dissect them.

The theme of this particular mountain of documents was “Wedding.”

The higher the rank and status of the people getting married, the more extravagant the wedding becomes—and the more damned work it entails. From hosting dignitaries from all corners to dealing with political matters.

There was another issue as well.

Centra. Where she lived, who gave birth to her, what her lineage was—none of it was known—a ‘drop from the heavens’, so to speak. Announcing his marriage to her had led to endless speculation and rumor.

Thanks to a previous incident, the current Emperor Irid possessed unparalleled authority, so no one dared to say anything as presumptuous as “Marry her instead of her.”

“Who is *she*, anyway? Isn’t she some kind of beautiful spy sent by that kingdom? Her bloodline hasn’t been verified; the next generation could be… *abnormal*. For the sake of posterity, wouldn’t it be better to keep Centra as a concubine and take a noble lady of good lineage as your proper wife?”

Such pronouncements often arose.

He wouldn’t even consider trying to persuade them with logic. If he revealed that she was a sentient information entity born from the hands of a mad wizard, it would be counterproductive. Therefore…

Irid intended to simply crush them with force and proceed with the marriage.

These were the documents for that. To silence any objections, to utterly suppress them.

For this reason, amidst his hectic work, Centra, who had been watching Irid with rapt attention, received a transmission from beyond. A single strand of her hair stood straight up.

After a brief exchange, Centra gently placed a hand on Irid’s shoulder, cautiously relaying the news.

“Irid, Father is coming… What should we do?”

“Father-in-law… you mean.”

*Thump.*

Irid pressed his hand against his forehead. Each time he uttered those four syllables, *father-in-law*, he felt dizzy, and an inexplicable surge of rage tormented him.

Right. The mad wizard who created Centra *was* his father-in-law. And he *did* intend to treat him as such. But, but… he couldn’t quite deal with this complex feeling.

“Tell him he’s welcome to visit, Centra.”

“Yes, Irid. I will. Ah-“

*Crackle, crackle, pop──!*

The space above Irid’s office tore open, and the mad wizard tumbled down from thin air. An intrusion that rendered the hundreds of defensive spells blanketing the imperial palace utterly useless.

“Congratulations on your upcoming marriage, Your Imperial Majesty!”

“Please, for the love of all that is holy, use the entrance.”

“Ah, the access logs are clean. I sent a clone to properly register my entry, so there’s no problem. The audience request was also just… filed.”

“If you’re going to follow procedure like that, bring that body of yours through proper procedure too!”

“I just thought you’d like to see me sooner…”

How could he possibly treat this man as his father-in-law?!