The prince was more than pleased with my plan—his eyes had lit up with something close to admiration when I explained it. Without hesitation, he gave me his approval.
That night, I wandered the southern settlements under the shroud of darkness. My task was simple on paper but frustrating in practice: examine every dam, every canal, every reservoir, and find a way to bring them down—quietly. Without leaving a trace.
But it wasn't as easy as I had hoped.
Hour after hour, structure after structure, my efforts fell flat. I had no clue what I was looking for. No blueprint. No guide. I wasn't an engineer in my past life—I wasn't trained for this kind of sabotage. I was just an ordinary guy who was good at all the things a woman might want in a partner. Not someone who could analyze construction-grade materials with a glance.
Still, I had one thing going for me.
I didn't give up. Ever.
When I hit a wall, I didn't stop—I climbed it. I learned. I adapted. I didn't need a PhD—I just needed enough to get the job done.
So, I gathered a few samples from one of the key dam sites and left under the veil of night. My plan was now simple: learn everything I could about this mysterious construction material. Understand its weaknesses. Then exploit them.
---
The Next Morning
I made my way to the city's largest library and headed straight to the magical engineering section. After skimming through countless books for over five exhausting hours, I finally found something promising:
"Iskarto and Its Implications on Structural Strength"
The title alone gave me a headache, but I had no choice. I flipped it open and began to read.
> "Iskarto is a cornerstone of modern magical construction, first discovered in the sixteenth century by magical engineer Iskarto Albeus. Named in honor of its creator, this mineral compound is extracted from deep within the Ebu mountain range. Known for its extraordinary durability, long lifespan, and unmatched structural strength, Iskarto is regarded as a miracle material—capable of withstanding both magical and environmental stressors..."
I groaned internally. This guy really loved his own invention.
"Come on," I muttered, skimming faster. "Is this just a love letter to a rock? Where's the useful stuff?"
Page after page, it was the same: benefits, applications, success stories. It was almost infuriating how this entire book was just one long hymn of praise.
But then—finally, nearly 400 pages in—I struck gold.
> "Despite its advantages, improper use of Iskarto—such as poor site preparation, use of substandard materials, or faulty construction techniques—can compromise its effectiveness. In such cases, the material becomes prone to hairline cracks and internal fractures over time, especially when exposed to heavy rainfall or water pressure."
My eyes widened.
"There it is."
After hours of frustration, those few lines felt like victory. But my excitement was quickly followed by a new problem.
How do I even know if the builders made those mistakes? I can't inspect this stuff myself—I'm not trained to identify weak foundations or fake materials. How do I even begin to figure that out?
I turned to the prince, who had just arrived with that annoying calmness he always carried.
"Is there… any way to find out if there were complaints about these structures in recent years?" I asked, trying not to sound too desperate.
He raised an eyebrow, thoughtful. "Hmm… actually, yes. There's a section within the Administrative Department where all infrastructure-related complaints are officially registered. They archive them."
I sat up straight, hope returning in a rush. "So if there were flaws—cracks, leaks, anything—it would be written down there?"
He nodded. "If people noticed them, yes."
"Then that's where we need to go," I said, my voice sharp with urgency. "The Administrative Department's archive."
The prince didn't respond immediately. When he did, his expression was grim.
"You're suggesting we infiltrate the department?"
I shrugged. "Well, yeah. How else are we supposed to get that information?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Even if it's just the complaints section, it's still part of a high-security government facility. You're talking about breaking into one of the most heavily guarded buildings in the region."
I knew he wasn't wrong. But I also knew how to push him.
I flashed a confident smile and said, "Come on, Prince. You're the strongest man in this country. There's no one who could stop you if you really wanted something."
His frown deepened. Clearly, infiltrating some bureaucratic office didn't exactly appeal to his royal pride. It was beneath him—child's play. But he also knew this was important. Critical, even.
After a long pause, he sighed.
"I'm not doing it," he said. "And I'm not letting you do it either."
I blinked. "Then what—"
He cut me off with a slight smirk and jerked his chin toward the forest behind us.
"You don't have to. The person who can do it is already standing fifty meters behind us."
I froze.
"What…?"
I turned my head slowly.
Sure enough, a man stood partly obscured in the bushes—motionless, silent, trying to blend in. Had it not been for my unusually sharp instincts, I never would've noticed him. Even so, I was shocked.
"He's been following us?" I asked, stepping toward the prince. "Since when? And why the hell didn't you say anything earlier?"
The prince didn't even look surprised. "Because he's not a threat. He's a shadow. One of mine."