CHAPTER 9
"Why did you kill this man?" Lisa interrupted their chat.
"I just wanted to see the guy who put my sister in danger. Can't say he
was anything I wasn't expecting."
"You knew he was involved? Never mind that, you knew he was here?"
"Yeah, thanks to my awesome servant."
Lisa had heard that Noah carried out his work flawlessly, both when he
was studying at the Institute and when he was working under the Crucible. It
seemed not much had changed.
"There is no need to praise me, Master Arcus. If you must reward me,
please consider giving me a generous raise."
"You've been mentioning a raise a lot lately. Saving up for something?"
"I'm afraid money and what it can buy is the only thing that would permit
me to endure your harebrained schemes."
"Endure them? You're supposed to be on my side!"
"You may call it 'dirty money' to use it to such ends; however, I believe
the subjectivity of the matter is for the philosophers to ponder and for me to
comfortably ignore."
"So now you're making fun of my whole money speech?!"
"C'mon, guys. Company, yeah?" Cazzy muttered.
At first glance, the three looked incredibly mismatched, but somehow
they seemed to be making it work.
Arcus gave a quick cough before returning to the previous subject. "This
entire situation was suspicious from the start. The servant who gave Lecia the
evidence already knew her name, and the marquess found out about it almost
the moment she had it."
"Furthermore," Noah added, "if the servant's life was truly in danger, he
should have fled the estate as soon as he rid himself of the evidence. That he
didn't is dubious, to put it mildly."
"The rest writes itself. First he gave the evidence to Lecia. Then he
quickly reported the missing evidence to the marquess and gently persuaded
him to kidnap her. That's what happened, right?"
"In all likelihood, yes," Lisa agreed. "However, that does not explain how
you tracked him down."
"If he was playing the part of the marquess's faithful servant again, he
must've been in the estate. We searched once things calmed down but never found him, so I realized he was probably keeping an eye on things nearby. I
asked Noah to look for him, and I don't have to explain to you how that
panned out."
It was the same train of logic Lisa herself followed, borne from the same
spark of suspicion.
"Anyway, he's my deposit," Arcus said, motioning to Rosworth's body.
"Deposit?"
"Right. In exchange for dealing with him, I want you to make sure the
marquess gets what he deserves and that the Raythefts aren't blamed for
anything."
"You really expect me to agree to that, when you just appeared out of thin
air and murdered one of my officers?"
Lisa looked up at him in exasperation; she could see the rage in his ruby
eyes.
"You have no choice," Arcus threatened darkly.
Though he was just a child, his tone reminded Lisa of a fully-grown
noble.
"What if I were to refuse?" she asked.
"I'll just take another approach."
"That approach being?"
"Remember how Rosworth opened my eyes? Taught me to stop being
naive?" Arcus paused, his eyes narrowing. "I'll tell the whole world that the
Surveillance Office was involved in this incident, and that the officer was
following your direct orders."
"Wh—"
"It's a decent threat, right? The nobles already hate you guys enough as it
is. It won't just be your neck on the line if that rumor spreads."
He was right. Even if the office could survive such a thing, its overseers
would clamp down, and Lisa and those close to her would not escape with
their lives.
"The crown would have to feign ignorance. Since the office is under their
direct control, its reputation would never recover if people thought the royal
family was involved, too."
"And you think people would believe you? You've just killed the main
witness."
"I think that'll make things easier, personally. Dead men tell no tales, and that includes tales that would contradict mine."
"I hardly see how that would benefit you."
"In that case... how about this?"
At his words, the two men next to him began to move.
"My apologies, Lady Lauzei. I am afraid we will have to take Your
Ladyship into our care."
"Sorry, Lis. 'Fraid our fun school days are over."
"Cazzy..." Lisa took a step backward.
She had confidence in her abilities, but not enough to take on both Noah
and Cazzy at once. The Winter Wunderkind's talents were recognized by
Mercuria String, a well-known state magician. Then there was the Pinioneer,
a magician who excelled over his noble peers in the Institute to be named top
of the class.
That was before even mentioning Arcus Raytheft. Lisa still couldn't work
out how he killed Rosworth, and she knew to move with the utmost caution
around anyone she understood so little.
Lisa was outclassed and outnumbered. If they captured her here, they
would likely bring her to Count Cremelia and name her as the mastermind
behind the kidnapping. In such a scenario, she wouldn't be able to count on
the royal family to help her out. They would be too focused on self-
preservation.
She was caught between a rock and a hard place. Frustration bubbled up
inside her. Thinking rationally, she realized there was no need to be so
stubborn here. If Lisa reported Rosworth, he likely would have been severely
punished, if not made to meet the same fate.
She could always report Arcus—but then she risked facing Sue's wrath.
The last time that happened, Lisa only just managed to keep her head. She
could still remember the icy fear that ripped through her as she pondered how
easily Sue could liberate her head from her shoulders.
The idea of resisting didn't even cross her mind. The difference in
strength between them would render any attempt worse than useless. That
Sue was only eleven years old had nothing to do with it.
"I don't think it's a bad deal for you, personally," Arcus said. "All you
need to do is pretend you don't know anything about what that dead guy did.
The marquess is the only one left to punish, and you have nothing to lose. In
fact, people'll probably praise the Surveillance Office for what a good job it did weeding out his corruption."
His words showed he had complete control over the situation. Cremelia,
Raytheft, and the Crucible were all at the marquess's estate right now,
combing it for every last shred of evidence to prove his corruption. There
would be nothing left for the Surveillance Office to find. Lisa had no choice
but to accept Arcus's threat.
"Very well. I shall do all I can to bring Marquess Gaston to justice, and I
shall make sure the Raytheft house takes absolutely none of the blame. In
return, you shall keep quiet about the Office's involvement in the matter. I
shall work as quietly as possible so that victims can keep their dignity."
"Thanks. I hope you'll keep your promise." Arcus turned around and
vanished into the moonlight.
Noah bowed in Lisa's direction as Cazzy made to follow after them.
"Cazzy."
"See ya, Lis. Good luck with it all, yeah? Hope it all goes smoothly for
ya!" Cazzy cackled before following his companions.
Lisa watched them leave before muttering under her breath. "Is he... Is he
really just a child?"
His height, his face, his soft skin. A voice that hadn't yet broken.
Physically, he was just like every other ten-year-old boy. And yet the way he
spoke and the ideas he came up with were beyond the capabilities of many
adults. "Genius" wasn't a powerful enough word to describe him. Lisa looked
up at the moon.
"Tell me, twin phantoms. Why was that boy disinherited? Why would you
feel the need to punish such an intelligent young boy like that?"
As she expected, neither Chain nor Wedge gave her any response.
The news of Cau Gaston's kidnappings and conspiracy to commit murder
shook the kingdom's nobles to their core. They couldn't ignore someone who
would plot such malicious deeds to cover up his own corruption. Even those
unrelated to the Raythefts or Cremelias spoke strongly against him, not least
because of the Surveillance Office's work in bringing him down. Without
anyone on his side, and no way to refute the water-tight evidence against him,
the marquess was found guilty.
At present, he was being investigated for any further crimes, after which
he would be brought before the King to be sentenced. Meanwhile, the Raytheft and Cremelia houses received no blame for bringing their troops to
storm Gaston's estate. They were treated entirely as victims, and their actions
to save their daughters' lives were considered justified. It seemed Lisa Lauzei
kept her promise, as they weren't even blamed for the countless mercenary
deaths from that night. Though those deaths were often spoken of in rumors
among the nobility, they were quickly forgotten.
A few days had passed since Arcus stormed Gaston's manor, and the
Raytheft estate had a visitor. As soon as Arcus heard someone came to see
him, he made his way with Noah down to the reception room. There he found
Craib Abend, lounging on the couch like he owned the place and smoking a
large cigar.
"Morning, Uncle," Arcus said.
"I swear Arcus, you look more and more girly with each passing day."
"If you don't have anything nice to say, then please don't say anything at
all..."
"Sorry! It was the first thing I thought of when I saw you, so I guess I
musta said it out loud. Don't worry! You'll be a man soon enough!"
"Really?" Arcus asked.
"I mean... I don't see why not."
"How come you don't look sure? Noah, what do you think?"
"I would have to think about it. I haven't been asked such a difficult
question since my final exam at the Institute."
"C'mon, you're supposed to be on my side!" Arcus pouted at his
unfaithful servant, whose composed expression didn't even twitch in
response.
Craib wasn't alone. Behind him was another man, his long hair entirely
slicked back. He was shifting on his feet impatiently. He looked to be in his
mid-twenties and had a peculiar set of slanted eyes.
"'Sup," he said, as Arcus laid his puzzled gaze on him.
It was far too casual a way to greet a noble at the best of times, but this
man looked like a servant, which made it even worse.
"Who are you?" Arcus frowned, though he also had a sneaking suspicion
he'd seen this man before.
"Huh? I'm the magician who escaped with you from the Tower! Ya forgot
about me already? Damn. Feels bad, man."
Arcus blinked. There was only one man who fit that description.
"Cazzy?! No way. It can't be you!"
"'Course it's me! I mean, I knew this get-up didn't suit me, but ya don't
have to be so rude 'bout it," Cazzy grumbled.
His morning coat was ever so slightly worn, and the knot in his red tie
was halfway down his chest. With the way his hair was slicked back and
rock-solid with gel, he still gave off a villainous impression, despite his
servant's uniform. This was probably his idea of making himself presentable.
Arcus couldn't help himself. He let out a snort. The next moment, he was
practically rolling on the floor with laughter.
Cazzy scowled at him. "Seriously, what's so funny?!"
"It's just... with your evil-looking face, an outfit like that really doesn't
suit you!"
To put it frankly, he looked like a mafia boss.
"Really now, Master Arcus. You should know it is rude to laugh..."
"I can see your mouth twitching, you know!"
The next moment, Noah was laughing, too. The veins on Cazzy's
forehead looked fit to burst.
It all started after Arcus's negotiation with Lisa Lauzei. Cazzy made to
ask Arcus something, and he assumed he wanted his payment like he was
promised in the Tower. Instead, he asked Arcus to employ him.
Considering what might lie ahead, Arcus was more than happy to have
more members on his team, but he couldn't just accept Cazzy as his servant.
Instead, Cazzy underwent training at Craib's place first.
Arcus shot a questioning gaze at his uncle.
"Don't worry, he shouldn't cause you any major problems. I gave him
some magic lessons too, but he passed with flying colors."
To be honest, even if Cazzy might have had personality issues, Arcus
couldn't pass up the chance to add such a powerful magician to his
entourage, since they were so hard to come by.
"Oh, yeah! 'Bout that trainin' of yours! Ya think ya could go a little easier
next time? I didn't think I'd survive to even be this kid's servant."
"Hey, remember your manners. You're speakin' to a state magician,
y'know."
"Ow! Let go! What's a magician like you need such buff arms for
anyhow?! C-C'mon, let go of me!" Cazzy let out a strangled cry as Craib's
grip on his arm tightened.
Though he kicked and struggled, Craib did not let go. Though Cazzy's
face was gradually turning blue, Craib probably thought he was being gentle.
Arcus's uncle watched his new servant writhe in agony with a large grin
across his face. Eventually deciding he'd been punished enough, he let go.
"I swear, every state magician's a lunatic, a monster, or both... Ow..."
Cazzy muttered under his breath.
"Do not worry, Cazzy. It's just him," Noah assured him.
"I swear, Noah, you never used to be this rude when you were workin'
under me..."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. I'll chop all that girly hair off as a reward."
Arcus blinked, and the next moment Craib had vanished from the sofa and
reappeared behind Noah. Craib ruffled his hair, leaving Noah no time to
react. His hair now a mess, Noah scowled at Craib, who responded with a
jovial grin.
It was clear who the most powerful man in the room was.
"Oh, so it ain't just me who he bullies!" Cazzy cackled.
"Indeed, although I am looking forward to the day I can turn the tables."
"Good luck!" Craib gave an exaggerated sigh before reclaiming his spot
on the couch. "Anyway, Cazzy, all you've got left is to sort out the attitude.
Once that's done, you'll be close enough to a decent servant."
"Talkin' posh ain't really my forte." Cazzy cackled again.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. It opened, revealing Lecia.
"Hello, Uncle."
"Oh, hey, Lecia."
"I heard you were here, and so I came to see you. Good morning." Lecia
gave a small curtsy.
"Mornin'."
She then noticed Cazzy. "Oh! Are you the man who came to rescue me
with Noah and my brother?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, I am."
"You mean: That would be correct," Craib cut in.
"I told ya, I can't speak posh!"
"Are you kiddin'? You're practically fluent in the Elder Tongue, but you
can't 'speak posh'?"
"Oh yeah? You try doin' it, then!"
"I can do it when I need to. C'mon, you need to learn your place."
"Ruddy nobles..."
Lecia stepped up to Cazzy. "Thank you ever so much for coming to my
rescue. Thanks to your actions, neither Charlotte nor myself were harmed."
"Uh, no problem."
"You are to be working with my uncle or my brother from now on, yes?
Well, I shall look forward to seeing you again."
"Sure thing."
"'Yes, madame,'" said Noah.
"Yes... ma'am," Cazzy finally managed, as though the words felt strange
on his tongue.
Cazzy's cheeks pinkened slightly as Lecia let out a small, dignified
giggle.
"I dunno if I deserve this kinda praise, y'know?" Cazzy commented to
Arcus.
"Sure you do. I'm Lecia's brother, and Noah is my servant, so saving her
was kind of our duty. But you have no connection to her at all. Of course
she's grateful."
"So that's it, huh?"
"Yeah. Let her be grateful, even if you do look kinda evil."
"That's got nothin' to do with it."
Mysteriously, neither Craib nor Noah seemed to have any objection to
Cazzy speaking to Arcus like that.
"I shall excuse myself now, Uncle. I must be returning to my magic
studies," said Lecia.
"Sure. Work hard, yeah?"
"I shall do my very best." With another curtsy to her uncle, Lecia left the
room.
"She's saying that a lot lately, huh?" Arcus remarked to Noah once she'd
gone.
"I have heard Miss Lecia say it a fair few times, yes."
"She'll probably end up a workaholic..."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Uh, never mind."
Workaholic must have been something Arcus picked up from his dream.
Finally, Craib returned to the matter at hand. "So anyway, Guari'll
probably be ready to become your full-time servant soon."
"Sounds good. As long as you don't mind working for me, Cazzy."
"'Course. I was the one who asked, remember?"
"I know, but..."
Cazzy was a powerful magician; he could work wherever he wanted.
Arcus worried that becoming his servant meant he was wasting his potential.
It seemed Cazzy didn't share his concerns.
"Ya look like the kinda boss who pays real good."
"I'm a ten-year-old kid with no job."
"Maybe you're dirt poor now, but once ya announce your aethometer-
doodad, I bet you'll be rollin' in it."
"Yeah, but that'll be a while."
"Don't worry. I'll keep everyone plenty entertained while we wait."
"All right. In that case, I'll be glad to have you."
"Thanks. Lookin' forward to it!"
And so, Cazzy was to work under Arcus once again.
"I gotta repay my debt to ya somehow."
"Huh? Did you say something?"
"Nah, don't worry about it."
Craib watched the pair with a smile on his face. With another ally on his
team, Arcus's future was looking like a bright one.
EPILOGUE
The Silver Room's walls were coated with mortar mixed with lime, giving
it an ashen hue. It seemed far too bleary to belong to the magnificent and
lavish royal castle. The room was empty, aside from a gorgeous chair, which
clashed with its bleak surroundings.
As a favored class within the kingdom, most nobles would get away with
a light slap on the wrist or a small fine for their misdeeds—up to a point. Any
noble found to have committed a serious crime was taken to the Silver Room
to receive their sentence directly from the king. Very few escaped with a
sentence lighter than death.
In this world, there were no courtrooms or trials to identify whether a
person had done right or wrong; nothing to determine the weight of their
punishment. In this world, everything fell under the king's judgment. Despite
the favoritism he might show toward certain classes, the range of sentences
he gave out was extremely limited.
Today, Marquess Cau Gaston was brought before the prince, Ceylan
Crosellode. There, in the Silver Room, he was to be judged for his corruption,
kidnapping, and conspiracy to harm the daughters of another noble family.
No longer dressed in his flashy noble wear, the marquess instead donned a
shabby robe to denote his status as a criminal. A shadow of his former,
majestic self, the most he managed was to shave his haggard face for his
audience with royalty. Bruises dotted his arms and legs, still fresh from his
interrogation.
Above him, in the single chair, sat the prince, staring down at him
listlessly and leaning his chin on his hand. His white clothes were adorned
with blue and gold embroidery, much like the Asian royalty of the man's
world. Not one inch of his skin was exposed, and his face was covered by a
dark veil.
In the presence of the prince, Gaston was totally ensnared by panic. Even
in his final moments facing Arcus, he was able to keep his composure. But
now he kept his forehead plastered to the floor as he begged for forgiveness.
His entire body was trembling and covered in a sheen of cold sweat. He knew
his fate was already sealed.
But it wasn't just fear of death that caused the marquess to shake. It was
Ceylan's rage. The quiet rage that he could feel emanating from beneath the
prince's veil. That rage seemed to pierce the marquess's skin, its weight
crushing down on him like he was a bug beneath the prince's heel. It wasn't
just Gaston who could feel it, either, but the witnesses and Ceylan's guards,
too. Everyone present shook in fear at the prince's silent rage. After a long,
long time, he finally opened his mouth.
"On behalf of my father, Shinlu Crosellode, I shall be leading these
proceedings. Are there any objections?" His voice, similar in tone to a young
boy's, echoed around the room.
In perfect, choreographed unison, the guards pierced the ground with their
spearheads and stamped one foot.
"As citizens of the kingdom..."
"We have not a single objection..."
"Against the honorable will..."
"Of Your Royal Highness!"
Their declaration stopped cleanly at the exact same moment. Eulid Rain,
the proficient young guard by the prince's side, spoke.
"Raise your head, Marquess. His Royal Highness is giving you an
opportunity to speak."
"S-Sir!" Gaston replied, though he kept his head firmly on the floor.
It was well known in the kingdom that one mustn't raise their head the
first time permission was given.
"Raise your head."
Once the order was repeated, Gaston did as he was told, setting his eyes
upon the prince's dark veil. It slanted to one side along with the prince's
cocked head, giving just a small glimpse of his mouth.
"Y-Your Royal Highness, it is an honor for me to be here in Your Royal
Highness's exalted presence. The grievances I have committed in this
kingdom are utterly inexcusable." Gaston paused, swallowing before he went
on. "I understand completely that I have shown an egregious error of
judgment; however, if I might speak in my defense..."
"Are you saying you object to my decision in this matter?" Ceylan
interrupted.
"O-Of course not! I would never... H-However..."
"That's enough, Marquess. If you have no objections, there is no need to
continue, unless you are trying to mock His Royal Highness?" Eulid warned
sharply, causing Gaston to cower.
Eulid's intimidating air was different from Ceylan's, and similar to what
Gaston felt when he was brought to the noblemen in his own garden. It was
the kind that only a soldier could possess. Of course, it didn't hold a candle to
the count's overwhelming presence, but combined with the intimidation he
felt from the prince, Gaston could barely keep his thoughts together.
But he wasn't completely overwhelmed. He couldn't afford to be; if he
kept his mouth shut here, he would be beyond saving. He had to keep talking,
disrespectful as it was.
"P-Please! Sir, please hear my defense!"
"How dare you?!" Eulid glared daggers at the marquess.
If this were a battlefield, he would already have lost his head.
Ceylan raised a hand to stop Eulid. "I shall hear your defense, Marquess.
Speak."
"Sir! I have always worked diligently for the sake of the kingdom and its
development. I would humbly ask that Your Royal Highness not forget that
when sentencing me!"
"Ah. I will admit that, with everything you have offered this kingdom,
you have the right to make such a request. I am well aware of your generous
donations and their salutary effect on the kingdom."
"D-Does that mean—"
"That I will lessen your sentence? You would like me to weigh your
service to this country against the severity of your crimes?"
"Th-That's right, sir!" Gaston cried.
All at once, he could feel every guard in the room glaring at him. Ceylan,
however, remained calm.
"Despite your services, the depth of your corruption is undeniable. Not
only have you pulled the wool over the eyes of the Crown, but over the eyes
of the entire kingdom and its citizens."
"But it was all for the kingdom, sir! It was all to make Lainur stronger...
better! My evil deeds had a virtuous purpose!"
"A virtuous purpose?"
"Exactly, sir! If I could only be granted some of Your Royal Highness's infinite mercy..." Gaston lowered his forehead to the floor once more to show
that he was done talking.
Ceylan let out a sigh. It wasn't until its echoes had disappeared into the air
that he spoke once more. "My generous father has overlooked your minor
transgressions more than once in the past. What he saw as wit and
intelligence within you was nothing more than crafty laziness."
"S-Sir! I promise, I shall do everything I can to change my ways!"
"I was speaking of your minor transgressions only. This time, you have
been brought to the Silver Room. Surely you understand what that means?"
"Sir..." Gaston didn't know how to answer.
Ceylan's next words were full of exasperation. "So you don't understand.
By your actions, you have threatened the carefully balanced web of bonds
that preserves Lainur's nobility. It was your duty to unite the nobles should
this kingdom fall into a crisis, and yet you created a fissure of suspicion
between them. Do you really believe I can overlook such a heinous crime?"
If relations between nobles were damaged, other kingdoms could use that
weakness as a point of attack, either politically or militarily. Either way,
Lainur would fall. Powerful as the kingdom was, there were several other
kingdoms which outclassed it. That was why its nobles were expected to
unite in an emergency, by order of the royal family.
"F-From now on I shall work even harder for the sake of the kingdom!
Please! Please, have mercy on me! I am willing to change my ways!"
"Is that so?"
"Yes, sir! I swear, if I am pardoned, I shall work myself to the bone for
Lainur and for Your Royal Highness!"
Ceylan didn't reply immediately, instead sinking into thought. To the
marquess, it seemed like an eternity before the prince finally spoke again.
"I see. I am impressed by the strength of your spirit."
"S-Sir! Does that mean—"
"Yes." Ceylan nodded.
Relief washed through Gaston. The prince heard his pleas and decided to
show compassion. Despite the sudden change in Ceylan's attitude, Gaston
was sure of it. The intimidating air coming off the prince before had
completely vanished, as though he was never enraged in the first place.
Just then, Gaston had a thought. He promised to work himself to the bone
for the kingdom and the prince, but what if the prince took particular note of that last part? What if that had been his plan all along, to bring Gaston here
and take his vast financial power for himself by putting him in his debt? To
claim Gaston's newly-found, unshakeable loyalty?
It was quite the scheme. It was no wonder that he was rumored to be some
sort of mythical beast by those in other kingdoms. The people would even
talk of how the prince's infinite mercy was enough to have the corrupt
marquess change his ways.
A muffled chuckle escaped from underneath Ceylan's veil. It was a low,
chilling sound. Surely, he was laughing because everything was going
according to plan. Nevertheless, at least Gaston's sentence was going to be
reduced. To think he was trembling like a baby rabbit just moments earlier.
Frustrating as it was to be at the mercy of a mere child, Gaston was just
relieved that he could escape death.
Relief thawing the wheels of his frozen mind, his thoughts moved to what
he would do next. First, he would deal with the man who interrogated him.
Teach him a lesson by showing him exactly how much pain and humiliation
he put Gaston through.
Then there was the boy who caused him to end up here in the first place.
Gaston swore he would make him and his allies suffer.
That damned brat...
He would suffer most of all. Even when he was flat on the floor and
begging forgiveness, it wouldn't be enough to satisfy the marquess. Gaston
would tear off each of his limbs one by one and, when he was helpless as a
caterpillar, kill him in the most brutal way possible. That was the only way
Gaston could ever get over what the boy did to him. Just imagining it sent a
thrill through his chest.
At that moment, Ceylan spoke again. This was it. The moment Gaston
would receive a slap on the wrist. The moment the prince would hold him
under his thumb for the rest of his days.
"Cau Gaston. I hereby sentence you to death in the name of the King.
Your death shall be of far greater service to the kingdom than anything you
did during your life."
"What?!"
Gaston couldn't believe his ears. Death. Beheading. Hanging. His life.
Gone.
Why was this happening? The prince listened to his defense! He was prepared to show mercy!
Gaston always thought that the prince valued what was beneficial over
what was right—just like Gaston himself. That was why he was so sure his
life would be spared if he used the rest of it to serve the kingdom.
"You are a pathetic creature. I am not naive enough to fall for your tricks,
either," the prince said coolly.
"Wh-What...?"
"I could see your mind moving the moment you caught the faintest whiff
of mercy. I have no doubt you leapt instantly to conniving and retribution; in
your putrid, gormless cynicism, you drew the conclusion that I meant to bring
you to heel."
"B-But, Your Royal Highness!"
"Cau Gaston. Money and status cannot be used to solve every problem, as
you seem to believe. The only reason you are here now is because humans
are wont to act according to emotion."
It was then that Gaston remembered how his actions from years ago
prevented him from buying the loyalty of one of the boy's allies. Was that
what the prince was alluding to? But there was no way he knew about that...
"I can see them now. Years worth of regrets, swarming around you."
The marquess let out a small squeak as a chill ran up his spine. A chill of
despair, as though he were facing a terrible beast.
Who was this sitting before him? Was it even human?
Those questions whirled around Gaston's mind as he failed to produce an
answer.
"Your Royal Highness..." he stuttered.
"My judgment is final. I trust you have no objections? As I recall, you
mentioned a few moments ago that you wanted to work for Lainur, yes?"
The prince laughed. It was the exact same scornful chuckle as before. So
this was the prince's plan all along.
"Wh-Why you...!" Gaston glared at Ceylan, his voice thick with venom.
To speak to royalty in such a manner was utterly unthinkable, but Ceylan
hardly seemed to care.
"There we are. Now your true colors are on display for all to see. I
suppose this is where some people get the idea that the nobility are swine that
walk like men."
The moment Gaston started glaring at the prince, his guard began to move. But Caylan raised a hand.
"That's all right, Eulid. Stand down."
"Sir. Forgive me, but as part of the royal guard, I cannot allow this man to
show you such disrespect."
"Do not make me repeat myself, Eulid. I have already sentenced this man
to death. You wouldn't want to undermine my sentence, would you?"
"Of course not, sir."
"Then stand down. Now is not the time for you to act."
The next moment, Gaston felt the prince's glare on him from under his
veil, forcing another choked squeak from him. His body began to tremble.
The threat he felt now was a hundred times worse than that he felt when he
was first brought here. A hundred times worse than anything Eulid or the
nobles of the eastern military houses could muster.
Gaston's body urged him to escape from under that gaze as soon as
possible. Unable to resist his instincts, he spun around and began to run.
The guards made no move to follow him. They must have been under
orders not to, for whatever reason. Gaston wasn't far from the door now. His
mind screamed at him that no one had given chase, and so escape must be
close.
"Cau Gaston. The King and those around him are not human. A fool like
you would do well to understand that."
The next second, the marquess tripped and sprawled onto the floor. When
he tried to get up, his legs wouldn't listen to him. He tried to grunt in
frustration, but his lungs struggled to draw breath. It was as though the air
around him was thinning, as though his organs were slowly being crushed,
one by one. All from the immense pressure that Ceylan radiated.
Gaston turned to look over his shoulder. There, his eyes met that dark
veil, staring unwaveringly in his direction.
"Pl... Please... help..." Gaston's whimpers evaporated into the air.
Ceylan began to mutter a spell from the royal arcana, secret to all but the
lineage of the kings of Lainur.
Artglyphs floated up around the prince. They circled rapidly before
crashing into each other with a loud crack. The collisions created several blue
flashes, which crashed into the mortar walls and sent a flurry of stone
whirling around the room.
There was a strange scent in the air. If Arcus were here, he might have been able to inform the marquess that it was the smell of ozone.
Ceylan brought a hand up lazily in front of him, and the blue lights began
to gather there, waiting for his bidding. He opened his mouth.
"...of judgment..."
Those blue, burning-hot lights rushed toward the marquess with a
thunderous roar, drowning out his screams and booming in the ears of
everyone in the room. After the blinding flash of blue-white light faded, the
charred remains of Cau Gaston's body came into view.
For a while, the room was in total silence, until at last the guards
remembered to breathe. They knew the prince was capable of much more
powerful magic than that, and yet they were still left with a dreadful fear in
their hearts.
Ceylan studied the marquess's remains for a while before speaking again.
"Now, Eulid. Did you manage to track down the mastermind behind this
plot?"
"Sir. The mastermind was killed on the night Cau Gaston was captured."
"Did the Chief Officer silence him, I wonder?"
"No, sir. According to the report, the Raythefts' son killed him almost
immediately after finishing his attack on the marquess's estate."
"Hm. It seems this Arcus boy is rather sagacious," Ceylan murmured.
"Sir, I can have Arcus Raytheft brought here. He did, after all, launch an
attack on a high-ranking noble. Perhaps he ought to be punished, too."
"That will not be necessary," said Ceylan. "This was a dispute between a
number of noble households, and they have solved it among themselves.
There is no need for the crown to suddenly start poking its nose where it does
not belong."
"And what if one side is dissatisfied with the result? I fear they might try
to take it out on the crown..."
"That is not a concern. I have already made arrangements to have the
marquess replaced, and his affiliates kept under my thumb."
"Is that really wise?"
"It is enough. We have seized the marquess's territory. If I were to ask for
any more control than that, my father would tell me I was being greedy."
"Very well, sir."
With the matter settled, Ceylan let out a laugh. "I suppose I ought to be
grateful to Arcus Raytheft. Not only did he catch one of the fattest rats in our
kingdom, but he also dealt with the pest running around the Surveillance
Office. We didn't even need to lift a finger."
The officer had the guts not only to stand up against nobility, but to go
through with his plans to trap the marquess. If he were still alive, he would
probably expect some sort of reward. Ceylan had no intention of appearing to
endorse such cloak-and-dagger antics, even behind closed doors, but it would
have been an annoyance nonetheless—one Arcus thankfully expunged before
it started.
Ceylan returned his gaze to Gaston's corpse. "Cau Gaston. Your existence
was a poison to this land and its people. While you might have further filled
the kingdom's coffers, your influence would rot it from within. Getting rid of
you was the best thing I could have done."
Ceylan paused, allowing the echo of his words to dissipate before letting
out a sigh. "And with that, our kingdom is on the path to power once more."
SIDE STORY: BEYOND RESPECT AND HATE
"Sure, go ahead. If you really hate me that much, then feel free to try and
kill me anytime you want."
It was those words that surprised me most of all.
Craib Abend brushed off my surprise attack all in the time it took to finish
his cigar, as though he was fully expecting it. He was Crucible, one of
Lainur's prized powerful state magicians. A national hero, he achieved vast
military success in the battle against the Empire and played a huge role in
suppressing the uprising in the northern region of Rionelles.
His preferred type of magic came from one of the "Ten Fables" in The
Birth of Heaven and Earth. Specifically, it came from the tale of the "Red
Tsunami." It was a powerful magic that took words from the depiction of the
creation of the Iron Mountains, a mountain range also known as the
continent's backbone.
It was said there were only four people in the entire kingdom who could
stand up to this man: the King of Lainur, Shinlu Crosellode; Godwald
"Vajra" Sylvester; and the two magicians Gastarque "Fortress" Rondiel and
Roheim "Waterwheel" Langula.
I already knew this man was much stronger than me. It would be no easy
feat to make up the vast distance between us. If frontal attacks wouldn't
work, then naturally I would proceed to try and turn the element of surprise to
my advantage.
I came up with a meticulously detailed plan that allowed no room for
failure. I was convinced I could defeat him if I could simply apply the full
extent of my powers of reason to the matter. Even if he was a state magician,
he was just another man, first and foremost. If that was what I focused on,
then the gap between us should close, if only by some small margin. And if I
could shorten that gap, then victory was just a little closer, too.
I was top of my class at the Royal Institute of Magic. Recognizing this,
the state magicians even granted me a nickname. I was the most powerful
magician of my generation. Even the professors at the Institute were blown away by my skills with magic and the sword. It was those skills and my
status which allowed me to get closer to this man as a servant. I played the
part of his meek, devoted butler.
I worked far harder than any other servant I knew. I followed my master
to the battlefield just to study how he fought firsthand.
One year later, I decided I earned enough of Craib Abend's trust, so I
launched my surprise attack. In the dead of night, I was to take his head.
That evening, I adulterated the other servants' dinner with a soporific
tincture. Then, I extinguished the Sol Glasses that were usually kept on all
night and froze one section of the estate.
Craib's specialty was molten iron. One of his favorite attacks involved
using its high mass and intense heat to burn his opponents to death. My own
abilities were a natural counter. It was for this very battle, this very night, that
I devoted myself to the study of water and ice magic during my time at the
Institute. Years of intense study, all to kill this man.
I completely turned my back on my family's traditional magic. I knew the
extent of my power well—enough to know I wasn't boasting in saying I was
talented. I was powerful enough to stab my master in the back.
As it turned out, all the confidence in the world wasn't enough when I was
faced with Craib Abend himself. My plan had no chance of discovery. So
why, when I opened the door to his bedroom, did I find the state magician
sitting there, smoking a cigar? It was just like he was waiting for me. He was
sitting back in a cold chair made of black iron. The entire room was already
filled with molten iron, as though he was prepared for this fight.
Despite the suffocating heat in the air, his expression was perfectly cool.
Seeing him sitting unbothered in the midst of such an infernal scene made
him look like a terrible beast.
Caught off guard by his preparedness, I launched my spell. But at this
point, the outcome of the battle was already decided.
"The Frozen Sword of Jacqueline."
"Iron Tsunami."
The melting iron caught my frozen sword. It wormed out from its source
like tentacles and evaporated my weapon in an instant before it was even
fully formed. I was unable to dodge as the cooling iron struck me in the
stomach.
The fight was over. Every ounce of effort I had put in these past few years disappeared into thin air, just like my sword.
It took every last bit of my strength not to allow myself to give in to the
pain as I glared at Craib Abend. But he just sighed.
"I've been expectin' this for a long time, y'know. Kinda had a hunch it'd
be today."
"How? My plan was perfect!"
"Sure. But no one can take me by surprise, y'know? I can feel magic
that's not my own."
"That's impossible!"
A magician could only telegraph themselves so dramatically as to allow
their opponent to plan ahead with a tremendous expenditure of aether.
Otherwise, it was impossible. I did everything to ensure I would go unnoticed
before actually entering the room. My preparatory efforts were hardly enough
to be perceived.
"I can feel the aether comin' off most anything. Or, I guess I learned to. It
took ages to develop the skill, I can tell you that much."
So now he was bragging? It still didn't make sense to me.
"What made you think it was me who was coming?"
Even if he could feel aether, surely he couldn't identify the owner?
My question didn't even cause him to bat an eyelid.
"That's easy. The hostility coming off you all this time."
"Hostility? I believe I have been very careful to keep such emotions
hidden."
"Yeah, you've been keeping it held down, right? Not all of it, though.
Now and then I've felt it seep out from you. Like when I turn my back to you
or when you let your guard down. Every time you had an opportunity to kill
me, the thought crossed your mind, right?"
I didn't answer his question.
"Noah Ingvayne," Craib began, "how come you want me dead? I never
did anything to you, did I?"
"H-How dare you say such a thing?!"
"Ah, I guess I can be a pretty harsh master." A faint smile passed Craib's
lips before he looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling. "Honestly, I haven't got a
clue. Actually, it's more like there are so many possible reasons that I can't
pick the right one."
"You remember the uprising in Rionelles, don't you?"
"The one... with Count Raymen? He let the fight along the northern
border spiral out of control, so the King took some of his land and demoted
him for it. Put a real burr under his saddle, so he gathered some of the other
nobles involved. They called themselves an 'army' and went to war against
the kingdom."
"Yes. And you were there, fighting against them!"
"Ah, lemme guess. You were one of the noble kids whose dad lost
everything?"
"That's right! I was the son of Baron Swerg!"
"Right. I gotcha." Craib lit another cigar in the manner of someone
reminiscing. After a couple of deep puffs, he continued with a sigh. "Walter
Swerg. I remember him. He fought to the bitter end, way after Count Raymen
ran away with his tail between his legs. The Spellbreaker. Never surrendered,
even when he was warned to. Said nobles had a duty to keep fighting or
something."
If Craib remembered his name, it meant my father's skills must have
impressed him. Craib leaned back and stared at the ceiling, blowing out a
puff of wistful smoke.
"You killed my father. I strove to work for you so that I could eventually
kill you in return."
"Right. Tale as old as time." Again, Craib sighed. "You're a smart kid,
though. You know revenge is pointless, right?"
I said nothing in return; I simply glared at him.
"Even if I killed your dad, it was Count Raymen who really mucked
things up. He's the one who started the whole rebellion because of his weird
sense of pride. Without him, none of this would've happened." An anguished
look washed over Craib's face. "But he got away without even a scratch. And
now you're mad at me, 'cause I was the one to destroy Baron Swerg's
territory."
"You killed everyone! Everyone! You and your rotten sea of molten
iron!"
"Yeah, I did."
"My mother, my father, and every last citizen!"
"Yeah."
"I'm... I'm the only one left!" I choked.
Everyone else died at this man's hands. Wishing to dissuade anyone else from following in Count Raymen's footsteps, the King sent in a troop of state
magicians to completely annihilate Baron Swerg's territory. Not a single
citizen remained, whether they resisted or begged for mercy. Just then, Craib
allowed his molten iron to evaporate into the air.
"Why... Why don't you kill me now?" I asked.
"It wouldn't sit right with me to kill a kid like you."
"So you pity me? Is that right?"
"I guess you could say that. I'm just not cold-hearted enough to go
through with it."
"If you let me go now, you can be sure that this is not the last attempt I
shall be making on your life."
The corners of Craib's mouth lifted into a confident smile. "Sure, go
ahead. If you really hate me that much, then feel free to try and kill me
anytime you want."
I had no immediate answer. His casual acceptance of my threat took me
by complete surprise. Didn't he realize the danger he was in?
Noticing I wasn't going to say anything, Craib took another puff of his
cigar. "Lemme be clear. You can try whenever you want, but you won't get
anywhere. Even if you magicked up ten copies of yourself, I could still win
easy."
It was clear to me now the man had no sense of modesty. There was a
small, haughty smile on his face. He continued to enjoy his cigar before
suddenly clapping his hands together, as he'd just remembered something.
"One more thing."
"What?" I asked.
"You'll do your job properly again from tomorrow, right? Remember,
you're still supposed to call me 'sir,' too. Otherwise I'm gonna have to fire
you."
I ignored his words. "...One day, I will kill you."
It was a promise. I would kill him, no matter what. No matter how long it
took. I would make him regret taking my threat so lightly. It wasn't just a
matter of revenge anymore; it was a matter of pride, too.
I never fulfilled my promise.
Several times I attempted to finish him off once and for all, but each time
he was ready for my supposedly-surprise attack. I attacked whenever we were alone together. I attacked whenever his back was turned. I attacked
whenever I could, but every time he shrugged it off.
Despite my numerous attempts on his life, Craib left me in his
employment, as though it made no difference to him. I never did realize why.
He continued to let me wait on him and trained me in both magic and
sword-fighting until I was fully fit to serve a state magician. He was only
making his assassin stronger, and it made no sense to me.
When my work was good, he praised me. When I made a mistake, he
scolded me. He was strict when it came to my training and loose-lipped when
he had a drink. On the occasions he smiled at me, I felt not a hint of wariness
from him.
Another year passed as I continued to serve the state magician and
military leader.
It was then that he suffered a serious injury. We were in the middle of
battle when he shielded me from a spell that would have pulverized me.
Having already used up much of his strength and aether in the fighting, the
attack completely overwhelmed him. Hurriedly, I lay him down on a
makeshift stretcher, where he lay gasping.
There he was, one of the strongest men I ever knew, struggling to draw
breath and completely defenseless. I had never seen him so vulnerable. It was
the perfect time to kill him.
I swore to my father's grave that I would seek revenge. But I couldn't do
it.
The moment I set my hand on my sword, it all came back to me. The way
he praised me when he was pleased with my work, as though no one else
could have done it better. Those warm memories melted my icy desire for
revenge, and the next thing I knew, I was flagging down a healer to tend to
him.
That evening, I asked him. "Why did you protect me, sir?"
"Well. You would've died if I didn't."
"You are my master. There is no need for you to protect me. In fact, I
should be the one sacrificing myself for your sake. What makes even less
sense is that you protected me despite the fact that I hate you with every fiber
of my being."
"Oh yeah. You do, don't you?" Craib murmured absentmindedly.
I sharpened my tone. "Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?!"
"Yeah, I know. You were thinkin' of killing me a couple hours ago,
right?"
"I—" I cut myself short, irritated at the lack of severity in his tone.
Craib took my silence as an invitation to speak. "Y'know, there's
something I've always wanted to ask you."
"What is it?"
"Is your life fun, what with your obsession of killing me?"
"I have never considered it."
"Right, 'cause all you ever think about is puttin' me in the dirt."
"Exactly."
"Sounds pretty boring to me." A sad look passed over his eyes. "I've seen
tons of people just like you. Revenge eats their life up whole. Talkin' to
'em's like trying to chat up an empty skin. Is that what you want to happen to
you? Are you already done livin' your life? 'Cause there's still plenty of time
for you to turn things around."
"How dare you say something like that? This is all your fault!"
"Huh. Good point."
A long silence passed between us, which Craib eventually broke.
"Like I said, it's not too late to change things now."
I stayed silent.
"You used to enjoy usin' magic, right?"
I did. Moreso if I could use it for somebody else's sake.
"You liked seeing people's faces light up when you use magic to help
them, yeah?"
I did. Those smiles warmed my heart.
"Otherwise, you'd be a terrible servant. You need to like helpin' people to
do a job like that."
He was absolutely right.
"Why... You took all of that away from me, so why are you..." A sob
escaped my lips.
Everything he reminded me of now was something I could never get back.
My parents would never praise me again. I couldn't help out my father's
citizens anymore. I could never see their smiles again.
"How 'bout this? How 'bout you pretend you died in that rebellion too,
and turn over a new leaf? Your life could be fun and exciting again. It's not
too—"
Late. I knew that was what he was going to say, but I didn't understand
how he could be so nonchalant right now.
"My purpose in life is to kill you!"
"So how come you didn't do it when you had the chance? You had the
perfect opportunity, but you let it get away."
I could do nothing but let out a frustrated grunt.
"You're done with trying to kill me, right, Noah? You don't wanna live
the rest of your life thinkin' about matchin' blood for blood, do you?"
"I..."
He was telling me what I already knew, deep down. My quest for revenge
was meaningless. If he hadn't wiped out my homeland, someone else would
have. But I had to hate someone for it. Otherwise, everyone who died that
day would have died for nothing.
I suddenly understood.
"This is why you have kept me as your servant."
"Yeah, I guess."
Craib was trying to show me that my life could be about more than just
revenge, and he prepared me for just such a life with his training. He was
trying to show me that I didn't need to hate anyone to lead a fulfilling life.
That was how I felt, at least, mild as the feeling was. Now here I was, having
accepted his lead onto a new path. Working for him was worthwhile, and
when he treated me as a magician, but more than that, as a human being, I
was happy. That was exactly why I decided that Craib Abend was a man
worth serving.
"Why did it have to be you who came to the Swergs' land that day?"
"I dunno. You'd have more luck askin' Wedge and Chain that kinda
thing."
That was the day my fiery desire for revenge burned out. I would never
forget the past, but I was no longer able to hold a grudge against the man who
set me on a straight path.
"Your life could be fun and exciting again."
All thoughts of revenge gone, those were the words that remained in my
mind. Those were the words I decided to strive for.
"You are assigning me a new master, sir?"
"Yeah. Trust me, he needs a new servant with all the stuff he's pullin', and I think you'd be perfect for him."
"But I want to keep serving you."
"If you do what I tell you and work for him, that means you're serving
me, right?"
"I suppose," I admitted, though I was unamused by his semantic
tomfoolery.
"What? So you're not gonna follow my orders now?"
"No, I shall. I shall work for this new master," I said, having no other
choice.
"Don't worry, yeah? He's even more fun to be around than me. I promise
you won't regret this!"