The scary guy, the bad guy, the dead guy (6)

‘What is with that development?!’

Withstanding the dizziness, Kleio barely sat up. He bowed his head and thanked Isiel for taking care of him, then turned on Perception again. He looked Arthur over in a whole new mood. He thought he only had to be cautious of the first and second princes, but there was a twist like this about the main character.

“Say that again, Arthur Reignan.”

“I’m glad I didn’t have to kill you. If the wizard, who would reach level 8 for the first time since Zebedee, had gone with those who would do terrible things, I would’ve had to cut you down while I could. I hated the idea of pointing the blade at my friend.”

“I guess I should be glad I clearly said before that I wouldn’t take their side?”

Arthur sat on the floor and looked up at Kleio, his eyes bright.

“I’m not saying that you’re lying. Honestly, I don’t think you would stick to someone stiff like Aslan. The problem was Melchior. I was so nervous that you would get caught up with him, so I had a cramp in my leg.”

Arthur’s concerns made sense.

‘He had two unique skills, so most people wouldn’t be able to resist.’

It’s a skill that even he, protected with Promise, struggled to defend him so that others would’ve been helpless.

‘So, would you think about killing your classmates who’ve been treating you so poorly?’

Arthur enthusiastically continued to talk despite Kleio’s stiff expression. The joy of finding a rare comrade shone on his face.

“Even if the whole world criticizes me as a liar, you now know the truth. It’s fortunate that Melchior’s skill wasn’t working.”

Arthur’s heartbeat from Perception was stable as he said he didn’t want to lose Kleio. He revealed that he could sacrifice his personal interests for the sake of his cause.

‘…This child grew up so harshly that he was less socialized.’

Kleio sighed and leaned back in his seat instead of pursuing it further.

“Even though those who reproach Melchior and hate him lose all their words the moment they face him. Even queen Juleika can’t speak badly in front of him. I now know why.”

“Yes. But with that ability, is there any reason to use it on a wizard that is still a student?”

“I’m convinced Melchior is interested in non-peaceful wizards.”

“Interesting…”

“Melchior has everything, but he is behind in military might. The knights of the Royal Capital Defense Force belong to our father, and Aslan has the knights of Duke Cruel and the Southeast Defensive Army. Melchior, however, doesn’t have a decent force.”

“Instead, there is Tasserton Tristan, right? What about his knights?”

As his Memory came up, he pointed out the parts that didn’t match Arthur’s words.

“You don’t seem it, but you’re really caught up on this situation. The Tristan estate is in the northernmost point of the kingdom, so the capital people don’t know the situation.”

“My father is a trader and a shareholder in the railroad company. What would be weird about that?”

“I can think of a few things. Tasserton has lacked since Duke Theo Tristan died. He cannot order the knights.”

‘!!!’

In the previous manuscript, he was the duke of Tasserton, who had been leading their knights from the start.

“…Even so, it would be easier to contemplate using the knights of the Royal Capital Defense Force rather than dwell on a wizard who may never reach level 8?”

“Everyone of the knights loves Melchior. However, Knight Commander Pierce Klagen sees Melchior as lukewarm because of his commoner mother. She’s rather scary…”

Another possibility emerged in Kleio’s mind. Were the prince’s unique skills shortened in duration for advanced swordsmen with high ether levels? In the last manuscript, a swordsman character capable of destroying his opponent’s unique skills as his ether level increased has been mentioned.

‘It was this guy, Arthur Reignan.’

“So, how could the knights go against the will of their commander?”

“Then he’s trying to recruit a student?”

“Not only that. Melchior always had a strange interest in odd things.”

He had unintentionally aroused Melchior’s curiosity. Since he was suspicious that Kleio might be his half-brother.

“It’s strange that he’s interested in someone not possessed by him.”

“Hahaha, that’s right. All the foreign ambassadors in Albion soon became his huge fans, as well as the majority of the commoners, the business world, and the aristocrats…”

Kleio understood what Arthur didn’t say.

‘-I don’t know what we might do later.’

He didn’t know the details, but it was about the catastrophe that Arthur might have unconsciously foreseen. Kleio, deprived of energy, covered his head.

“…In the midst of that, you had the guts to ask me to be on your side.”

“But this is the way I had to go, what else could I do?!

***

His hat and ribbon nowhere to be seen; Dione quivered when she saw Kleio returned with his sweat-soaked dress clothes. The tutor, who asked nothing, quickly filled him a bath and put him to sleep. He ended up skipping his meals and slept like the dead. He found out about some unexpected facts about the author, dealt with someone like Melchior, who had been bombarded with information by Arthur…his mental overload was considerable. He barely got out of bed the day before school began. Food filled the dinner table that day. Kleio, sick of his high-fat diet likely to clog his arteries, ate roast duck with a little soup and orange sauce. Mrs. Canton was disappointed, but Kleio couldn’t stomach anything else.

‘I have to bring my land document to the school.’

As things progressed, his desire for that land grew. No matter what kind of mess the princes dragged him into, no matter what sort of war happened, that land would remain. Unlike when he had arrived from school, he needed a big suitcase for his return trip to bring that safe. He would also need to take some wine from the cellar as well.

‘I’ll need drinks for Behemoth and me.’

Dione trembled and sticking to Behemoth tightly, saying she didn’t want to part with the cat.

“Don’t you want to stay with your sister at her house?”

“Meow, meeeow (This cat has to return to take care of his territory.)”

“What will I do? I’ll miss you!”

Dione regretfully let go of the cat after tying a new tie around his neck. Then, she looked at the school uniform that Mrs. Canton had prepared for Kleio with her head tilted.

“Oh, Kleio. Try on the school uniform now. These clothes won’t fit you.”

“It’s only been half a year.”

“It’s been a growing season.”

Before Dione could raise her eyebrows, he did what she told him to. It was as she guessed. The sleeves and pants felt shorter and tighter on him. It does seem like he had grown.

‘It’s been a while… I didn’t even notice the growing pains.’

He had been surrounded by the princes and other good-looking characters with decent physiques, so he had some small resentments against the author, who had set his appearance as this NPC. Thinking of Gideon Asel, at least he could count on being tall even if his appearance wouldn’t improve.

‘I didn’t look good before, but I wasn’t short. If I had to live with this short body, it would be too much.’

Dione called the maid and told him that he would need to put on a new uniform sooner or later.

“Won’t your tutor work be over when the vacation ends?”

“I extended my contract with your father. We will continue to meet in the future, regardless, but it is better to have an excuse.”

“Will you continue to receive the tutor salary from your father?”

“It would be foolish not to take it.”

Dione covered her mouth and laughed. She was a wonderful lady with a consistent attitude towards life.

“By the way, will you leave the gifts sent by the crown prince?”

Kleio’s hand stopped before the remaining wine on the dinner table. While Kleio had slept, a gift of gratitude for attending the party had arrived at the mansion. Items sent by the prince himself weren’t common, from what he had heard. The big red box was still ominously lurking in his bedroom.

“How could I take something like that?”

“That’s right. What did you do at the ball to receive an item that only you can show?”

The box enclosed with a prestigious seal and a hand-written card by the crown prince was a gorgeous robe and an illustration that matched it. A sleeve was embroidered with the royal family’s seal, and all the buttons were made of pure gold. The gold harmonized with the red of the robe, making it stand out even from a hundred meters away. Dione, who had looked at the dimensions of the clothes, said it was like the formalwear worn by the crown prince as a child.

“In the Riognan royal family, inheriting and wearing the robes of a superior is to emphasize friendship and authenticity…”

“So they sent me used clothes as a gift…”

“Is that the case? In the first place, it can’t be worn except for royalty. It would be blasphemy.”

“If so, the sword would also be a problem, right?”

“Of course.”

Dione picked up the knotted sword and used the gas lamp to reveal the short sentence engraved on it.

“-It says, ‘He who knows the power of hymns enjoys permanent power.’ It has the Riognan royal crest. It can’t be sold, of course.”

“Wow…”

Kleio made a sound like he was dying.

“Isn’t it time to tell me what the hell happened?”

Dione, having returned the sword to its sheath, sat in front of Kleio. It was clear she was curious about what had happened in the palace.

“It’s complicated to explain… but in conclusion, Prince Melchior wonders if I am the extramarital child of King Philippe. This gift was sent with the intent of seeing father’s and my reactions.”

“Ahahaha, yes?! What happened? You and Gideon look so alike, though!”

“It’s not that sort of problem…”

“What on earth happened to make the crown prince regard you as a brother? I’m so curious I’ll die!”

Kleio was in trouble.

‘The prince can read the heart of others… It sounds so fake.’

“…I will tell you everything when the time comes, so please wait a bit.”

“Now is the time!”

Dione, fed up, grabbed onto Kleio’s cheeks.

“Hey, Mr. Kleio Asel. One thing is for sure.”

“Even if you say that…”

“Quiet, there are servants in the hallway.”

Dione grabbed onto Kleio as her eyelashes fluttered. Kleio fell backward as a circle spread out under them.