How to Suck Honey at a Warrior’s Party

Mohan looked at the disheveled silver hair on the bedding.
He couldn’t understand Cylon, who had covered his face with a hood the entire time and now fell asleep staring defenselessly at the ceiling.

Cylon had been uncharacteristic from the start.

After the announcement of the warrior’s identity, Mohan was summoned to the imperial court.

From his first day at the imperial court, the emperor called Mohan to the front of the line during inspection time and pressured him.
Using an artefact called the ‘Throne Authority’, which had been passed down through the imperial family for generations.

The ‘Throne Authority’ was an artefact that literally boosted the wielder’s momentum as much as they wanted.
Mohan had to deal with the artefact’s momentum in the silence until his last companion arrived.

It was a slightly nerve-wracking momentum for the sword master himself, despite what the world knew, but it didn’t change the fact that he had to put on a stiff face: it was annoying, it was a hassle, and it made the emperor look even more of a jerk when he didn’t even slow down for his companions who arrived one after another.

The emperor had been annoying before, but never to the point of using artefacts.
Mohan suspected that it was the duke who had set the emperor up.

The royalist duke and the aristocratic marquis had never had a good relationship to begin with, and their territories had only gotten worse.
It would have been a shame to see a warrior emerge from the marquis’s ranks, as they were all eyeing each other’s growing power.

He knew he couldn’t stand idly by while the heroic marquis’s heir grew in power.

I could see in the emperor’s face that he intended to kill him from the start.
So that he could later claim to be the hero of the continent and didn’t demand a great price.
The emperor had a prejudiced opinion that Mohan, who was still only an heir, was a child who knew nothing.

After a tedious wait, the last of his companions appeared.
He had imagined him to be the same as his stiffened companions by his side.

Not removing the hood of his robe, even in the presence of the emperor, Cylon walked leisurely down the red carpet.
The emperor’s eyes twitched slightly as the artefact failed to work.

There was no tension or fear in the words he spoke.
His calm, measured tone made him seem like a nobleman, even in the face of clumsy court etiquette.

In the end, the day ended early due to the emperor’s panic.

In the three days that followed, the emperor did not leave the palace, nor did he send a word to summon me to the inquiry.
It was a very pleasant result.

Cylon’s goodwill was instantly rewarded by the annoyance.
What’s more, unlike the other two, who seemed to be far less skilled than he was, even when they pretended to be, Cylon was not, so he needed to look good.

High-ranking mages are rare.
Mohan Wood never forgot his father’s advice to obsess over talent.

He wore the mask of the caring and compassionate Mohan Wood that he had worn since his debut in society even more thickly.
It was just the thing to win the favour of the non-aristocrats.

But that was only for a moment, as Cylon, who seemed to be admiring Mohan’s face the entire time they were speaking to each other, spoke up.

“I will make sure to do just my exact share!”
(TL/N: Explanation for this sentence has been explained by (._.) on the comment below, you can check it out.)

Mohan read in his words a strong sense of “I’ll only do what everyone else is doing!” not that that was a bad thing, of course.
It was just a bit bleak because it was obvious that this one person was going to be measured against two other colleagues, not himself.

After that, Cylon stuck out like a sore thumb.
The only time he was out of sight, really out of mind, was for three days before departure.

He’d wound his magic around other people’s ankles and floated around like he had a sore leg, and when he wanted to hide his power, he’d shut them up in an instant.

A silent prayer.
Yes, Cylon breathed in the magic of the unseen.

He knew a little bit about magic, having come from a family of mages, and he knew how amazing it was.

It was a magic that had yet to produce anything more than a ‘could it be done?’ paper, and even that had been abandoned for the ridiculous reason that the author of the paper had ‘a student who was supposed to work with him but ran away’.

He wanted to ask him what he was hiding, but he couldn’t, as he was known to the world as a third-rate Auror.
Even the magic threads still wrapped around his ankles were barely noticeable to a third-rate wizard.

He demanded.
Very, very badly!

Especially the way he’d unbuttoned his shirt to show the markings, the way he’d revealed his white nape, his slightly skinny collarbone line, and his upper chest.
It was embarrassing to see how casually he opened his clothes while embarrassing people.

‘Is it okay to show me that easily?’

Mohan Wood didn’t realize that he was getting angry at the wrong point.

He had just managed to calm himself down enough to say that they would be travelling together until they had defeated the Demon King.

A very cute green slime popped out.
I was sure I could kill them all with a single stroke of my sword.
But I didn’t.
I wanted to see what the others were capable of, and I wanted to keep the lie of being a 3-star swordsman alive for now.

Slowly, I stroked the slime with my knife.
It was enough to make the slime bounce away on its own.

I cranked up my senses and spied what was going on behind me, and I saw something outrageous.

Apparently, Cylon, the mage, had no way of dealing with the slime properly.
Unable to match the others, he tried to manipulate them to look like the others.

The slime in front of Herrin, the wind spirit, was defeated with wind magic, the slime in front of Regs, the shield, was defeated with gravity magic, and the wizard himself was defeating it by punching the slime.

When I turned around after killing the slime with a well-timed blow, I saw the Elementalist Hertin, who had killed the slime with wind magic, and Reg, who was staring down at his shield, his eyes like an earthquake.

Behind them stood a smirking sergeant.
I could feel the pride in his unnecessarily smooth jaw through his robes.

‘Who the hell do you think you’re hiding your skills from? There’s only four of us here!’

His proud mood quickly turned sour as he struggled to control the quivering corners of his mouth.
Mohan was plagued by an unknown guilt.

Out of respect for Cylon, who still had no intention of revealing his identity, he wanted to move on with his day.
He’d had enough embarrassment for one day.

He hadn’t expected Cylon to pull an entire house out of subspace.

Mohan, who had been watching him the whole time, and Herrin and Reg, who had sensed something unusual about him, quickly excused themselves for firewood.

Inevitably, I’m left alone with Cylon in the house, which has been furnished for one person.
Feeling a little more relaxed in his own home, Cylon jumped into bed.

It was obvious that he didn’t want to sleep in a hard place.
To break the ice, he complimented him on his favorite bed, which he quickly moved over to, and then grabbed Mohan’s arm and pulled him into bed with him.

He asked.
Really!

He was stiff with nervousness, and the fact that he’d even gotten into bed at all!

‘Is this how you fell asleep, no way?’

It infuriated him to hear him whisper the name of the man he’d dragged into his bed in a deep voice and then fall asleep immediately afterwards.
Mohan Wood sat up with a start.
He scooped Cylon into his arms, pulled back the covers, and laid him down properly.
When he had tucked him in, Mohan sighed in frustration.

“What am I doing?”

He sank into the log chair next to him and looked at Cylon.

Before he knew it, Mohan was observing Cylon with a serious face.

Are you going in?

Herrin turned to Reg, who stood beside him, and asked him what he wanted, using only the shape of his mouth.
Reg glanced at Mohan and Cylon through the doorway and shook his head.

They walked away from Cylon’s house, looking dejected.

“Whoa, what is it? Those two.”

“I don’t know.”

To them, Cylon was a ‘weird but powerful mage’, and the warrior had somehow fallen in love with him at first sight.
Even when he pretended not to, he could feel him hovering around him, always on his mind.

Each of his spells was amazing.
He could cast spells without words, use wide-range detection spells, and float for hours on end with wind magic.
I had no idea how much magic he had.

As a result, Herrin had to listen to the spirits, who were not on good terms with the mage.

As a noble herself, it’s hard not to notice Cylon’s skills, and yet, despite the fact that he’s always trying to hide things, she’s always been considerate of Cylon’s clumsiness.

She pretended to be fooled! Even when everyone’s lives were hanging in the balance due to the spread of Magi across the continent, she was still supporting her mage colleague who was hiding his skills!

She saw love there, and she was determined to support it, pulling Reg, who had been standing off to the side.
Watching them together was like watching a romance novel come to life.

“I’ve never seen two people fall in love like that before.”

“Nobles were people, too.”

“That’s a completely prejudiced statement, isn’t it?”

“Mercenaries like us can’t help it, we’ve had it coming.”

“Still, you should be careful in front of a warrior.”

“Of course.
I may look like this, but I’m not without thoughts.”

With that, Herrin and Reg were lost in their own thoughts.

It wasn’t until a while later that Reg spoke up.

“I need to improve my skills.”

It was an offhand remark, but Herrin nodded quickly.

Though they were blindsided by the warrior’s love, they were aware that Cylon had helped them.
Herrin knew because the spirit had been blatant about it, and Reg had become suspicious because he knew his stats.

For the sake of a mage who was not good at hiding things, and for the sake of a warrior who wanted to help him, it was right to improve.

“It’s a shame we’re so poorly trained compared to the two.”

“It can’t be helped.
We are weak.
But we have potential, don’t we?”

“Potential?”

“Well, we were just handpicked to join the Warrior’s Party, so I’m pretty sure the God didn’t just pick us without reason.”

“Heh, I see!”

Reg and Herrin clenched their fists together in determination.

By the time they returned with the firewood, Cylon had risen to his feet.