Damn, I Have to Marry the Strongest Antagonist at the Start?

Grand Scholar Roland stood frozen, gazing at Elena's painting. The vivid imagery, lifelike detail, and sheer presence of it left him utterly speechless.

At last, he understood.

The peak of artistic mastery he had spent a lifetime chasing—compared to the work of Elena's father—was like a flickering candle daring to compete with the brilliance of a full moon.

All he could feel now was reverence… and an insatiable thirst for knowledge.

Elena noticed Roland spacing out, so she struck a serious pose, reached up, and gave his tall leg a firm pat.

"Mmm… that's about right. Looks like you finally figured it out!"

She said it with all the dignity of a seasoned mentor giving affirmation to a slow-learning student.

But instead of being offended by the gesture or tone, Roland's eyes twinkled. An idea sparked in his mind.

He understood very well that, with his current status and power, reaching the level of Elena's father was nothing short of a fantasy. Becoming his disciple? Practically impossible.

And yet… this little girl had, with a single casual painting, shattered the bottleneck he'd been stuck at for decades. That was no ordinary favor—it was a gift of rebirth.

He had made up his mind.

With a decisive thud, Roland dropped to one knee and bowed respectfully.

"Mentor," he said solemnly.

Elena froze.

"No, no! You can't do that!" she stammered, waving her hands. "You're way older than me, and I'm only eight! This isn't right!"

But Roland looked up at her, his gaze unwavering.

"In the world of art, age does not matter—only mastery. You demonstrated a level of skill far beyond mine. That qualifies you to be my mentor."

"Please, allow me to stay by your side. Even if it's only as a humble servant, I want to follow your path—and your father's—in the pursuit of true artistic mastery."

Elena tried again and again to talk him out of it, but Roland's determination was as firm as stone. He had resolved to become her disciple, even if just in name.

Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, Elena, with her kind heart, couldn't bring herself to reject him any longer.

"Alright, alright!" she sighed at last, hands on her hips. "If you really like this painting and think it helps you that much, then as your mentor, I hereby gift it to you!"

Roland trembled as he received the painting, holding it as if it were a sacred relic. He cradled it gently against his chest like it was the most precious treasure in the world.

"Thank you, Mentor," he said gratefully. "Then I shall take my leave and study in peace."

With that, Roland cheerfully exited the chamber, painting in hand.

The moment he stepped outside, he could no longer contain his joy.

He threw his head back and laughed heartily.

This single artwork, brimming with the power of [Order], would be enough for him to study for years to come.

Who would've thought that he, who had come to teach the princess today, would leave instead as her disciple?

The twists of fate truly defied comprehension.

"Hahaha! The world is full of surprises!"

In the Council Chamber…

Empress Yevna greeted Grand Scholar Roland with her usual warm smile.

"Master Roland," she asked gently, "How did Elena's first lesson go?"

Roland gave a polite nod, but his expression was somewhat awkward.

"Your Majesty," he began hesitantly, "I'm afraid… I can no longer serve as Elena's instructor."

His words instantly stirred confusion among the council members. Yevna frowned with concern.

"Why? Did Elena misbehave? Was she disrespectful to you?"

She stood up, ready to march to Eternal Hall and reprimand the child if necessary.

Seeing this, Roland hurriedly stepped forward.

"Your Majesty, please wait! The princess is respectful and clever—an ideal student. The issue does not lie with her character."

He paused, took a deep breath, then continued, voice solemn:

"It's me… my understanding of art is far inferior to hers."

His statement shocked everyone.

Eldritch, the chief royal mage, couldn't help but speak up.

"Master Roland, surely you jest. Elena is only eight years old. Even with extraordinary talent, how could she surpass you in artistic mastery?"

Roland's expression remained serious as he nodded.

"It's true. Not only that—she has become my mentor. And with her guidance, I have already broken through and ascended to the tier of Grand Archmage."

Those words dropped like a thunderclap.

Gasps filled the chamber.

All eyes turned to Roland, and in that moment, they could clearly sense the awe-inspiring aura of a Grand Archmage radiating from his body.

It was real.

"You really broke through?" someone whispered.

"You're saying… Elena helped you achieve it?" asked Leonchi, his voice filled with disbelief.

Seeing the looks of shock around him, Roland chose not to elaborate further. Instead, he slowly unrolled Elena's painting.

A wave of vibrant, life-giving power burst forth from it.

Everyone felt as if they had stepped into a lush, thriving forest. They instinctively took a step back, faces filled with awe.

It was genuine—the power of Order!

"She's only eight…" Yevna muttered, stunned. "If she already has this level of mastery… then her father must…"

"Your Majesty," Eldritch interjected, eyes wide with reverence, "If I may offer my humble analysis—Elena's father must be a being who has surpassed even the Grand Archmage tier. There's a strong possibility… that he is of Legendary rank—or perhaps even Epic tier!"

On the continent, the generally accepted tiers of power were: Novice Rank, Mid Rank, High Rank, and the dual apex ranks of Grand Knight and Grand Archmage.

Above them stood the mythical ranks known only in tales: Legendary, Epic, Mythical, and the almost incomprehensible Origin Tier.

Legendary rank powerhouses were already rarer than once in a thousand years.

As for Epic-tier beings—they were practically divine.

Previously, the court had guessed that Elena's father might, at best, be a Legendary-ranked warrior or mage. But now, it was clear his strength lay far beyond even that.

A hush fell over the chamber as every official present began to feel an instinctive reverence toward this unseen figure—the father of the Eternal Princess.

"Hahaha! Excellent!" Leonchi burst into laughter. "Now that Master Roland has reached the Grand Archmage tier, our empire's strength has grown yet again. The odds of defeating that Thunder Knight Commander have just improved!"

"Indeed," Eldritch agreed, a rare glint of ambition in his eyes. "If I could also break into the Legendary tier, I would no longer have to fear the Soul Pontificate supporting Yelude!"

Despite his title as the kingdom's chief Grand Archmage, Eldritch was not arrogant. He knew he was not invincible.

The Soul Pontificate, Yelude's mother's faction, was said to be guarded by a Legendary powerhouse who had long surpassed the bounds of mortality.

That was the very reason Eldritch had never dared to make a move against Yelude, even though he loathed the man.

If not for Yelude's mother being a high-ranking elder of the Soul Pontificate, neither the Ogre King nor the Dark High Priest would ever have allied themselves with him.

Currently, the Soul Pontificate was restrained by other powerful factions and could not act recklessly. Both sides maintained a fragile balance.

No one dared to start a war. For if one erupted, the consequences could be catastrophic for the entire empire.

And yet… just as the court buzzed with excitement over Elena's otherworldly talent—

A high-ranking knight rushed in, his face grim.

"Your Majesty! Urgent report—Yelude is making a move!"