– Editor’s Authority (2) –

[–You are using Inherent Skill: Editor’s Authority (1/3).]

[–Remaining Time / Time Limit:

00:00:14 / 00:00:15]

Isiel, Nebo, and the cat all stopped moving; even the fluttering curtain froze mid-breeze. A bunch of ragged papers floated up in front of his view and spread out. The papers looked worn down as if the sentences on them had been repeatedly written and erased over and over.

New, vivid black letters overlap faded traces of the previous letters. They were letters that he had never seen before, but he could somehow read them. What was written on the papers was clearly -Albion Kingdom’s Prince-. The -Final Manuscript- that Kleio had yet to see. The last paragraph on the spread-out page was describing the crisis Kleio had just undergone, but nothing else was written after it. There was just a bunch of frayed papers where the previously written contents had been erased.

‘Am I supposed to revise something that’s being written in real-time personally? Editor’s Authority was something like this!?’

[–Remaining Time / Time Limit:

00:00:07 / 00:00:15]

There was no time to hesitate. Kleio, who had been looking back and forth between the pen that appeared in his hand at some point and the disheveled manuscript, rapidly began to write.

‘It has to be the same as Korean revision marks!’

Kleio picked the scene where he cast magic – the entire last paragraph – and slashed it through. Blue ink mixed with flecks of gold powder flowed out of the pen.

[–The author accepts the editor’s suggestion.]

[–The relevant paragraph is being edited.]

As the paragraph on the manuscript was deleted, the manuscript scattered and disappeared. Right afterward, the world transformed. The windows, the floor, and the ceiling lost their quality and changed into black lines tangled together. The bundle of print letters that had made up the world was soon bleached white. For a moment, Kleio felt a sense of buoyancy, like he was floating in a vacuum. The appearance of the familiar living room, with Isiel and the cat, returned in front of the panting Kleio.

Bam–!

“Kleio Asel, you better come out right now.”

A boy with a big build angrily rushed towards Kleio.

–A paragraph’s worth of time had been turned back.

‘This world was a manuscript, and when the manuscript’s sentences were revised, so too was the world.’

Having realized that enormous power, Kleio’s mind went blank from the shock.

Above it, all was one thing.

‘What kind of author listens this well to an editor?!’

There was no time to marvel over it for long as the tough boy had closed the short distance in an instant.

“Do you know how much trouble I’ve been through thanks to you jumping into the river? Even though I treated you well because I felt sorry for you!”

Kleio used all his strength to hide behind Isiel.

“Help me!”

Isiel’s reaction speed was like lightning. Holding her sword by the sheath, Isiel easily blocked the boy who was twice her size.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but must you start by throwing around punches?”

“Ughhh–.”

Having been hit by Isiel’s sword sheath, the boy staggered back. Kleio, who had been suffering from that nauseating feeling of buoyancy, also lost strength in his legs and collapsed to the floor. The sight of the living room with the two boys flopped down on the ground, and one girl standing was a mess. Hanging her sword back on her waist, Isiel looked at Kleio.

“Are you okay, Kleio?”

“I’ve been saying for a while that I’m not…”

Kleio sprawled out with cooled sweat dampening his heated body. Isiel was taken aback as she gripped the boy. His body was as light as a ragdoll’s.

“Tsk, what kind of boy is this sickly? Get ahold of yourself! This wimp…”

Isiel’s way of speaking was the same, but now there was a faint hint of bewilderment.

‘Was she the one who moved me… last time too…’

The fresh smell of roses was strangely familiar. Held in thin but firm arms, Kleio lost consciousness.

***

Kleio slept like the dead for two days. He woke up on the third day, but his body was listless, so he washed up, ate what he was given, and laid around some more. Whenever he woke up, he would contemplate what the Editor’s Authority was. He wanted to try it out again but hesitated because he couldn’t clearly know its limit and because he only had a limited number of times to use it. The rectangular section on the back of his hand was the clearest it had been for several minutes right after using the skill. It looked like a navy-blue metallic line that was neither a tattoo nor a burn.

‘It’s a relief that it faded again. I was wondering how I was going to go around with it there.’

While he was in the middle of going back and forth between worrying about what to do and thinking, he fell back to sleep.

On the fourth day, a Friday afternoon, he finally woke up feeling refreshed. His housemate, Nebo Yarbi, was watching over him. The large boy had lost energy after throwing a fist at him four days ago; now, he just kept on apologizing to Kleio with a constipated face.

“Sorry.”

“Alright, I get it.”

“I was really wrong.”

“I said I got it.”

“Really? Are you going to forgive me?”

“Well…”

With a dark expression, Kleio just returned an ambiguous answer that seemed like he might accept the apology but also seemed like he wouldn’t. Nebo’s face looked like a mess. There were fading bruises on his cheekbones and forehead; clearly, Isiel’s doing.

‘That’s right, the law is distant, but fists are close.’

Seeing how his attitude had changed, it seemed as if he had been admonished. It probably was something along the lines of ‘don’t bully a weak kid’ or something similar.

‘Of course, the student at the top in admissions is scary. Thanks to her, it looks like it became easier to stay here for the time being.’

Nebo carefully continued gauging Kleo’s mood. He couldn’t act however he wanted because he didn’t know what kind of relationship Isiel and Kleio had.

‘He wouldn’t be afraid that I would tattle to that girl on him, right?’

“…I also fed that insane — I mean, fierce cat.”

“Thanks.”

“Meoow (It was only chicken. I have a lot of complaints).”

“Behemoth said to convey his thanks, too.”

“Its name is Behemoth?”

“Yeah. Moth for short.”

“Is it Moth because he’s a pest? Fucking weird name…”

“Meeoooow!”

“Ack! Don’t hit me, punk.”

Nebo let out a sound like he was dying as the cat’s front paw smacked him in the same spot he had been hit by Isiel. The two tussled, raising up dust, and only stopped fighting after a long time had passed.

Nebo, who seemed to relax after letting loose the burden in his heart, dragged a chair over the side of the bed and sat again.

“But did you really lose your memory?”

“I said I did.”

“Hah, really. What a mess…”

“That’s right. It’s a mess. So who called you over and made you suffer so?”

Kleio smiled. It was a professional smile, one an exhausted person gives. Nebo read a subtle ominous aura from that unfamiliar expression.

‘Ahh. What’s with him? He’s scary.’

“Ah, it’s nothing. Headmaster Zebedee called me over, but it was a misunderstanding. Really.”

“Hm, I see.”

Nebo just scratched his head and turned his gaze to the window. The person he had shared a dorm with for several months now felt strange and unfamiliar. Up until now, it was common for sickly Kleio to stay lying down in the dorm during the day. It might’ve been that he was escaping the fact that he couldn’t follow his classes. Kleio was a little kid who was frightened of other people and chose to stay secluded. He was afraid of his own father, the baronet, who poured in enormous donations to the school to get him in. His dormmate was a walking disaster who jumped into a river in the middle of the night and overturned the school.

It was an unlikely sight for Nebo for that kind of person to comfortably raise his head and stare right at him. Kleio continued to speak in a placid tone.

“Nebo, do you happen to have anything to do this afternoon?”

“I do. I’m going to practice the connecting motions assignment that Professor Fehite gave out.”

“Why don’t you skip practice for a day?”

“…Why should I?”

“I want to go to the bank, and I’d like someone to guide me there. Professor Reuba told me to ask you.”

Nebo seemed very unwilling, but maybe he was worried about Isiel and Reuba, as he finally nodded with reluctance.

“Thanks, Nebo.”

“Somehow, instead of someone who lost his memories, you seem like a completely different person.”