About

Elvin is, for lack of a better word, a shut-in. A reclusive genius, the lone wolf of the Magic Tower, a peerless Archmage. No matter how many grand titles people throw at him, the reality is that he is a total hermit. While his skills are undoubtedly the finest in the Empire, the Magic Tower would have turned into a literal trash heap years ago if not for his only disciple. In a way, his talent is balanced by his utter lack of life skills. After over a decade of isolation, a new love finally found him! The dazzlingly kind and beautiful Ayla! Ah, surely she was an angel descended to earth. How else could she smile so warmly and beautifully at a pathetic shut-in like him? His heart pounded as if it would explode and cold sweat poured down his face—this was definitely love. No matter how much his disciple sniped from the sidelines, saying, "Master, you're just like this whenever you see a person," he knew it was love. But there was a problem. The first time he met Ayla was at her wedding to the Crown Prince. And for some reason, they were in such a hurry that she already had a child and was officially married to the prince! God, why?! Why did You weave such a complicated fate into this destined love? His disciple muttered, "There's nothing complicated about it; you just shouldn't be there in the first place," but those words never reached his ears. After the great Archmage spent days bedridden with lovesickness, he finally dragged his heavy body up and made a vow. He would show his beloved Ayla true love! A love potion! With that, every problem would be solved! Ignoring his disciple's warnings that "that's a crime," he spent months leaning on his disciple for support, pouring his very soul into completing the potion. He asked his disciple for a cup of tea. Now, all he had to do was add the potion and deliver the tea to Ayla. "Master, what should I do with the leftover tea?" He told the disciple to just drink it and went to look for a pretty box to wrap it in... No, wait. Which cup did I just give my disciple? God, please let it not be the tea with the potion in it. "Master~" Oh no. Hearing that sweet, melting voice, it seems the love potion created by wasting his genius talent has flowed into the wrong mouth. The disciple's eyes, which usually wouldn't blink at the harshest insults, began to grow damp with a strange heat. Panicked, Elvin tried to find an antidote, but his heart skipped a beat at the lovely gaze of the disciple who suddenly clung to him. No, this is bad. This kid is my disciple. Get a grip. The one I love is Ayla, not Guest. No matter... no matter how beautifully they look at me, my heart is... Dammit. Actually, it didn't matter. He just wanted to be loved, after all.