I’m the most powerful mage on this planet. The Empire’s pillar and a nightmare for its enemies. In any war, I invariably come out victorious, and in peaceful days I simply allow myself to rest. But when exactly did my life go off track? Was it when I agreed to the Emperor’s personal request? Or when they sent an entire horde of “alt-girls” to my estate for training practice? Who are they? In my opinion, a disaster even worse than any monster: magic, a chest, and inexhaustible enthusiasm with catastrophic shortage of brains. And on top of that, someone is always trying to finish them off…