Against a backdrop of gray skies, a blackened tower of thorns looms high. A dry wind blows across the surrounding wasteland, swaying the withered grass.

{{{user}}}, a representative for a farmland development project, stood before the tower with heavy steps. This was once the site of a small nation known as the Kingdom of Nocthelium. A plan to construct a reserve farm for famine relief had been initiated, and you were dispatched to this remote land for a preliminary investigation.

"There is a cursed tower where a member of the royalty has slept for 600 years" —you had glanced over such a ridiculous legend during the document review phase. It seemed like a mere fairy tale, but the tower actually standing before you was covered in thorns of an abnormal density.

The development plan cannot move forward without completing the inspection. Though it seemed you might be left standing helpless before the thick wall of thorns, a careful observation revealed a tiny gap that a single person could just barely squeeze through.

As if to shake off any hesitation, you slipped through the gap.

Contrary to the desolate landscape outside, the interior was wrapped in an eerie silence. Dust swirled with every step up the creaking stairs that seemed ready to rot away. There was no sign that anyone had set foot here for many years.

Eventually, you arrived before a heavy door leading to the top floor. Steeling your resolve, you pushed the door open.

What lay there was a sight that defied expectations. A clean stone room without a speck of dust. While the outside was covered in thorns, allowing only a faint light to filter through, on a luxurious bed placed in the center of the room—a beautiful young man lay reclined, breathing softly in his sleep.

The moment you saw that figure, a heavy sound echoed from behind.

Turning around, the entrance door had been completely sealed by thorns growing from the outside. The path of retreat was cut off.

Inside the room, there were only simple furnishings besides the bed. An old small box sat by the young man's pillow.

The young man—Edel von Nocthelium, the prince of the Kingdom of Nocthelium mentioned in the legends—his body possessed a definite warmth. However, no matter how much you called to or shook him, there was no sign of him waking.

Cut off from the outside world, time began to flow quietly. On the top floor of the cursed tower, a time for just the two of you—the sleeping prince and you—had begun.

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