Chapter 52: Support and a Condition (1)

In this fantasy world, magic, swords, and even monsters are not considered mythical or strange—they are real, and everyone knows it.

Magic is a mysterious power possessed by only a few. Those who have it are known as mages.

However, not everyone can use magic. In fact, the ability is incredibly rare.

Only the blessed are capable of wielding it. Even among mages, talent varies: some are low-tier, some average, and others highly skilled—and then there are the geniuses.

While many lack magical power, a few possess unique and special abilities.

There’s no official name for them, but some refer to these individuals as

"half-blessed."

Their abilities might not match the raw power of magic, but some possess skills that defy logic—like seeing the future, altering the weather, and more.

Orlan, the leader of the Marquis family, was clearly one of them.

Intuitive abilities, huh?

Nolan muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on the man before him.

It might not be flashy or destructive, but intuitive power was still something unique—and dangerous.

Those who possess this ability can instinctively read others’ true nature, avoid deception, and discern right from wrong in any situation.

If someone with great fighting power had this ability, they would be truly terrifying.

Fortunately, that person was Orlan, the head of the Marquis family.

Still, it was impressive. With this gift, he could avoid disasters that might have struck him and his family at any moment.

Nolan sighed softly, then smiled faintly as he crossed his legs casually.

"I wanted to ask you, Marquis Orlan," he said calmly, "how confident are you in your intuition?"

Orlan chuckled quietly and raised one finger. "One hundred percent, of course."

"Heh..." Nolan smirked. "Well, since you’re so confident, congratulations—you’re right."

Orlan’s eyes widened, and he stared at Nolan with surprise.

Noticing the change, Nolan raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why are you looking at me like that? Is there a ghost behind me?"

He glanced behind but saw no one, then turned back to Orlan, puzzled.

Orlan was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath.

"No, Prince Nolan. I just didn’t expect you to admit it so openly, without denial," he said honestly, shaking his head slightly. "It was completely unexpected."

At first, he expected Nolan to dodge the question and make excuses.

Being a firm believer in his own intuition, Orlan was sure he was right.

His original plan was to gradually pressure Nolan until the young man admitted the truth himself.

But what he didn’t expect was for Nolan to admit it immediately—calm and casual, as if it were no big secret.

This man is truly mysterious and dangerous,

Orlan muttered silently.

Ever since he saw Nolan manipulate Zarak into paying six million Sharn, he knew the young man was hiding something.

And just now, when Zarak was tricked again into paying ten million Sharn, Orlan became fully convinced: Nolan was hiding something deep.

He was even certain that neither His Majesty the Emperor nor the other princes knew about it.

"Even if I deny it, you’d still think I was involved, right?" Nolan shrugged casually. "So there’s no point in denying or beating around the bush."

Orlan smiled, looking at him with admiration. "You really are something, Prince Nolan. You—"

Before he could finish, Nolan waved a hand, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Skip the compliments. They’re cliché, and I’m tired of hearing them," he said lazily.

Orlan: "..."

This was the first time he’d met someone who disliked compliments—especially from him, the Marquis.

"All right, then tell me—what will you do once you find out the truth? Will you spread it to the outside world? If so, go ahead. It won’t change anything."

Nolan remained calm, as if it didn’t affect him—or Elina—at all.

"No, I won’t," Orlan replied firmly. "It wouldn’t benefit me. Besides, making an enemy of you would only harm me and the Caltheron family."

Making an enemy of someone as mysterious as Nolan was like stepping into a dark room with a sword hanging overhead.

There was no telling when it might fall and slash your throat.

Nolan’s ability to stay hidden from His Majesty and the princes for years proved just how clever, cunning, and dangerous he was.

He must have countless unpredictable ways to eliminate anyone who crossed him.

It was far wiser to make him an ally, not an opponent.

"You’re quite open-minded, Marquis Orlan," Nolan said with a satisfied nod. He bit into a slice of apple from the plate and asked, "So, what’s your plan once you learn the truth? I’m sure you already have one."

Orlan was momentarily stunned that Nolan had read his thoughts so easily. Then he laughed aloud and found himself liking Nolan even more.

"You’re right." He smiled slowly and nodded. Then, meeting Nolan’s gaze, he said firmly, "Prince Nolan, the Marquis Caltheron family and I will give our full support to Princess Elina."

The moment those words were spoken, silence fell between them.

Yet Nolan’s expression didn’t change—it was as if he had expected this all along.

"Sorry to interrupt, Prince Nolan, Marquis Caltheron. I’ve brought you two fresh cups of tea," a servant’s voice came from Nolan’s right.

The servant set down the new cups, collected two empty ones from the table, and quickly left the room.

Nolan’s gaze followed the servant’s retreating figure, a flash of cold lightning flickering in his eyes before vanishing just as fast.

"I understand," Nolan said, picking up his cup and taking a light sip of tea. "But I know your support must come with a purpose. Just tell me—if I can help, I will."

Orlan, who was also sipping his tea, was momentarily caught off guard by Nolan’s sharpness.

He quickly regained his composure and calmly set his cup on the saucer.

"I do have a purpose," he admitted without hesitation. "And it’s crucial—to me, at least. If you can solve it, I swear to support Princess Elina to the end."

Nolan wasn’t offended at all. In fact, he appreciated the honesty.

As a saying from his old world went,

"There’s no such thing as a free lunch."

Unconditional support would have felt suspicious. Since Orlan was honest from the start, Nolan could relax.

"Just say it," Nolan urged.

Orlan took a deep breath and laced his fingers together. "Actually..."