Prince, our prince (3)

It was then.

[-The skill Foregrounding has been canceled under the command of user Arthur Reignan.]

“Ahhhhhhhh!”

Arthur appeared in front of Kleio, flying through the air and covered in blood. He hit the ground and clutched the wound in his stomach, trying to hold back the flow of blood.

“Arthur! You alright?!”

“I’m not. I need to stop the bleeding quickly… or I’ll die.”

His speech was still playful, but he was as pale as death. Kleio opened a circle again with a hand on the ground.

[-The remaining amount of ether is insufficient.]

Promise sent a warning, but he wasn’t in a position to pay any mind to it. He didn’t know much about first aid, but it was unlikely he could treat the wound simply by applying pressure. Kleio urgently recalled the magic formula of [Hemostasis], [Disinfection], and [Reduction] as the world was still collapsing. When Arthur’s life blurred, so too did the boundaries of the world. Even the air stopped moving as Kleio’s voice rang out.

“[Stop the bleeding, stop the infection, and let the wound heal! This guy has to live!]”

It was a messy mantra, but it worked. Three elaborately intertwined formulas emerged and covered Arthur’s wounds as the world became white.

[-Ether consumption is severe.]

The inside of his skull throbbed in pain as he felt blood dripping from his nose. The world started to darken as the ether faded, and Kleio was barely able to lift his head that felt like it was breaking. Arthur was looking down at his abdomen in disbelief. His clothes were torn and bloody, but his wounds had vanished. Soon, the sound of the wind returned, and the world still existed around them.

“You… Are you alive?”

“…Thanks to you.”

Doubt soon became conviction in Kleio’s mind. When something threatened the protagonist’s existence, the manuscript itself became damaged. All of that indicated only one thing.

‘The world will cease to exist if he dies?’

His body collapsed to the ground, out of the ether. His consciousness began to fade as he heard Isiel and Arthur yelling unintelligibly from far away.

‘This is fucked up. I can’t do this.’

[-User’s level of involvement in the narrative has risen rapidly.]

[Attributed item: □□□ Promise]

[-The third level function of Promise has opened. The Perception ability is available.]

***

Kleio heard that Dione’s reaction was terrifying when he was returned to the mansion unconscious. As soon as he awoke, he asked Behemoth if there was something wrong with his use of ether. Behemoth was hitting the floor with his tail as he responded solemnly.

“When you came back, even I was concerned. So I looked closely at you that night, but you’re extremely fine.”

“Then why did I get a nosebleed?”

“Was your etheric sensitivity normal? You embody a tremendous amount of energy in that poor body. You seriously lack stamina, so do some training.”

Reassured, Kleio hugged Behemoth and laid down for two days. Behemoth let himself be quietly held in Kleio’s arms. Of course, he couldn’t tell Dione the whole story. Unless she could understand what the cat was saying, he wouldn’t.

‘I only had a little nosebleed, but she’s acting as if I had a serious illness. Thanks to that, though, I have a reprieve from dancing.’

It was a benefit to escape from going round and round the hall, memorizing complicated steps in time to the music. He wasn’t just lying down, though, but he focused on ether cycling as he did. It was true that he had neglected his magic after vacation began, but after being caught up in that life-threatening fight, his awareness had grown.

‘Whether it’s to avoid compulsory service or danger, I have to train my skills well.’

He remembered the circle’s shape and repeated the work of drawing ether into a circle and passing it through his heart until his head cleared and his body felt lighter. As Kleio laid down, Behemoth shook his head and looked satisfied.

“Yes, that’s it. If you do it every day, your ability to hold ether will quickly grow. The ether to be drawn overflows. Soon, even if you use magic ten times or so, you won’t get dizzy at all.”

“No, I don’t want to do anything that requires me to cast magic ten times in a row.”

Behemoth moved so that only his eyes were covered and clicked his tongue.

“Even though your qualities are excellent, you’re extremely lazy. I think that’s the balance of the world.”

“Hey, I do as much as I can and never overdo it. That’s the tenet of my life.”

‘Since I lived hard enough in the previous world.’

***

His peace lasted only a week. On the eighth day, the atmosphere of the mansion grew hectic as Arthur visited. Dione went into an overprotective mode and wouldn’t accept Arthur’s request to meet Kleio. Mrs. Canton, who had watched, told him with admiration. Arthur had come to the Asel mansion, excited that Kleio had survived. Yesterday he had heard the noises from the parlor, but Kleio pretended to sleep.

‘I have only one thing to say anyway.’

Now he was sure of what the author intended. All the story elements unilaterally pushed Kleio Asel into being with Arthur, helping him achieve his goals, and ensuring his survival. The protagonist of the story usually survived to the end, but not always. Especially not when the author lost control. Looking at it, it seemed the story was in a state where it couldn’t be known when improbable elements would pop out. That said, if Arthur died, the world would follow him.

‘Even knowing this is the world in the manuscript, it’s hard to believe.’

The character of Arthur Reignan hated listening to other people and voluntarily jumped into the fire. But without that courage and extreme recklessness, how could he survive the turbulent fate awaiting him?

‘Then my role is to be a human airbag? Since the author can’t do anything about him, did he put me in to stop him from dying?’

The protagonist is the one who could kill the story or extend its life.

‘It’s like the -Prince of the Albion Kingdom- is actually the -Biography of Arthur Reignan-.’

Kleio turned over and grunted, Behemoth still in his arms. Even without opening his eyes, he knew what sort of expression Behemoth was making and where his tail was hanging. It was thanks to the action of Perception, the third stage function of Promise. Even though he wasn’t sick, he was stuck in bed because he was adapting to Perception.

‘This seems like an added setting so that I can be an effective airbag for the protagonist.’

Even if Kleio had low physical strength, agility, and stamina, having good eyes could help him avoid danger. It felt like people’s movements were slowing down because his vision had improved so much. It wasn’t just his vision, however. His senses had sharpened, and he could clearly distinguish who was walking through the hall while lying in bed.

‘It would be nice if I could turn off the function, but I can’t. Damn it.’

It was a wonder the masters of the martial arts could live without increasing neuroticism.

‘I can’t even properly sleep because I keep hearing the footsteps on the carpet in the corridor.’

Mrs. Canton had a calm pace, Dione was light on her feet, and Behemoth clopped along. And Arthur moved quietly like an assassin despite his tall stature. How much had he honed his [Reinforcement] technique to be able to jump from the garden to the terrace without a single sound? It was absurd.

‘Since Dione won’t let him in the front door, he’s going through a lot of trouble.’

Kleio, wearing his blanket, hugged the cat tighter as he pretended not to hear the slight rattling of the door. Arthur tried to open the terrace door, but it was locked. Finally, Kleio shouted out in annoyance.

“Are you trying to steal something? Why are you trying to get in through that door?”

Arthur replied from outside the terrace door.

“Kleio, are you feeling alright? Do you know who I am?”

“There are no other visitors who would crawl into such a place except you.”

“It’s because your tutor won’t let me in through the door.”

Behemoth, disturbed from his sleep, looked up as his ears twitched.

“Meoow…(Who is making such a fuss…?).”

Having put Behemoth down on the bed, Kleio unwillingly moved to the terrace. He opened the terrace door, then, without inviting Arthur in, leaned against the door with his arms crossed. The prince, with grass in his hair, laughed.

“You look rough.”

“How about you?”

Kleio himself was dressed in crumpled pajamas, no shoes, and his hair was tangled.

“It’s because I was laying down.”

“I wanted to check on you, but you won’t meet me at all~.”

“I heard you well. Then go now; it’s not okay for an assassin to come into my house.”

“I’m really sorry about that day. Normally, I can do anything by myself. It was my first time like that.”

‘It wasn’t like that in the original manuscript. How is the second prince struggling with a seventeen-year-old that’s used to going out at night drinking?’

“Assassins that have mastered such abilities and with such high ether levels are rare. Why would capable people like that be doing others’ dirty work?”

That was why, despite Aslan’s numerous assassins, he couldn’t hurt Arthur. Arthur was a swordsman who learned how to use ether through traditional training.

‘Why did the assassins’ level suddenly rise?’

“I don’t know, but their swords were red. Isn’t it weird? Both the wizard’s circle and the swordsman’s aura are golden, but for the sword to be colored…”

That was also in the basic textbook for swordsmanship.

“You mean they have to be a swordmaster?”

“You know well, yes. But they weren’t swordmasters. Level 5, maybe? When I brought them to the subspace, it wasn’t long before I ran out of strength.”

“Is there anything that temporarily raises your ether level?”

Kleio listened to Arthur. Something like Promise couldn’t raise the assassins’ level, could it?

“When I took off their masks, all three had red eyes.”

Kleio’s expression grew serious as he thought about this new, hadn’t appeared in the manuscript before.