Editor 72

After hardship comes settlement (4)

“But if it’s something that actually happened, nothing can escape his eyes. Melchior probably knows pretty much everything I’ve been up to.”

Clayio nodded bitterly.

Would the crown prince have shown up in Kishion County just to offer encouragement?

“If Aslan had caught on, he would’ve hanged me first, but His Highness the Crown Prince pretends not to know. I don’t know what his intentions are.”

As always when Melchior was mentioned, Arthur let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

But Clayio had a hunch.

‘Melchior wants to disrupt the progress of the manuscript. Arthur raising private soldiers at his age wasn’t in the previous draft, so maybe Melchior is just watching to see how it plays out? He probably thinks he can use it to his advantage… like using one to control another. If both his brothers die fighting, that’s the best outcome for him.’

“That’s why I wanted to keep you in the dark for now. Melchior isn’t someone who punishes people for things they don’t know about.”

“Hey, I think you’re forgetting something—your brother’s skill doesn’t work on me. It wouldn’t have mattered if you told me or not.”

“That guy has a hundred ways to get his way without even using his skill!”

“Dude, you’re the one who dragged me into this. Once it starts, you have to see it through—did you think I’d just dip my toes in?”

“At the very least, I was planning to tell you after graduation. If anything happens now, I have no contingency. I just didn’t want you to end up as another victim in the torture chamber under the North Gate.”

Clayio furrowed his brow deeply.

How often had he thought about such things, for talk of torture chambers to come out so naturally?

‘Why are there so many dangerous elements in the ? One wrong step and it’s a thousand-foot drop, seriously.’

“So what about you or the others? If you get hit with a suppression tool, mages and knights are both powerless—what’s the difference?”

“You have no stamina or resilience. I’m scared you’d die in five minutes just from being strung up in the torture chamber.”

“Why are you scared if I’m the one dying.”

Honestly, what scared him more was the protagonist, who was ready to risk torture or execution.

‘For me, dying this way or that, the result’s the same, right? If this guy dies, the world ends anyway.’

It was such a perilous situation that even the author must be on edge.

“…Because you’re the prophet mage.”

“If you get a prophet mage, you should use them well and make sure you don’t get caught by your brothers, huh?”

Of course, he didn’t like going through hardships.

But he didn’t want the protagonist to get soft-hearted and make the wrong choice either.

With the plot running out of control, could that guy afford to worry about the mage’s safety?

“But if you get hurt over something like this, I just have this feeling everything will fall apart! What am I supposed to do!”

“Aren’t you the one with the ‘Prediction’ stigma, not me? What falls apart if I get hurt? Did you really lay all your cards on the table with me?”

“I did, I swear! Listen, Ray, when you first found out who I was in the dean’s office hallway, you were using your prediction stigma skill, right?”

Arthur’s sudden question sent a chill down Clayio’s spine.

“Why are you bringing that up all of a sudden?”

“Thinking back, I wondered if you tried to avoid me because you knew being near me would be dangerous….”

He hit the nail on the head. Clayio gave a deliberately cold, short reply to hide his feelings.

“So?”

Arthur ruffled his hair with both hands, growling like a beast cub.

“Ughhh. That’s why I felt guilty about getting you completely involved. It’s not like you want to inherit a family or overhaul election law, you just wanted a title—I couldn’t make you risk your life for that.”

“Wow, a few months ago you were threatening to kill me, now you say you held back to protect me. Which tune am I supposed to dance to?”

“…Back then, Melchior had just swept through Kishion County, and in that situation, it seemed like the best decision. I’m sorry.”

Arthur bowed his head, his face almost painfully serious.

He must have been suffering too.

Clayio was one of Arthur’s few friends.

He’d made up his mind because he couldn’t let that terrifying monster get his hands on a future level 8 mage, but it was also true that he didn’t want Clayio to die more than anyone.

‘It’s good that he admits his mistakes readily. Most people in power don’t have that quality.’

But an apology is one thing, and the truth is another.

Clayio narrowed his eyes and, without hesitation, activated the “Promise” function he’d used only once before.

It was the “Appropriateness Judgment” function, used to verify the [Ether Activation] magic formula.

It consumed 95% of his internal ether at once, but now wasn’t the time to hesitate.

In the early dusk after sunset, the promise shone brilliantly.

[“Appropriateness Judgment”

Can determine the truth or falsehood of a matter, and the appropriateness of elements.

*Caution: Using this function temporarily consumes 95% of your internal ether.]

[—Would you like to use “Appropriateness Judgment”?]

Clayio asked Arthur again.

“What’s done is done. Tell me more about that hunch or whatever you got about me.”

Arthur answered.

“I just had a hunch that you’re someone who’s meant for something higher. It felt wrong for you to be persecuted, and if that happened, I was sure the natural order would be twisted. That’s all! It’s not like I was hiding anything because of some secret.”

[—According to “Appropriateness Judgment,” this answer is determined to be true.]

At that moment, an immense amount of ether seemed to drain away beneath his feet.

A sharp pain stabbed Clayio’s temples from ether depletion.

He clenched his teeth to keep from showing the pain.

‘Just listening, it sounds like a noble sentiment, but the truth is, with that beastly intuition, he figured out the author’s mechanism without even knowing what it was.’

Arthur had sensed, in the form of a “hunch,” that the author had given Clayio the authority to correct this work.

He was cautious when he didn’t know the details, but if he realized it was all the author’s arrangement, he wouldn’t be acting this meek.

‘Wow, I really can’t let him find out.’

Pretending to look out at the terrace, Clayio wiped the sweat from his brow, keeping his face turned away from Arthur and the gaslight.

“…And yet, you still dragged me into the dungeon?”

“If Aslan hadn’t made a move against Kishion County, I wouldn’t have done it. I’m really sorry. Because I’m still lacking, I put you and the others in danger.”

“Forget it, it’s not your fault. It’s your second brother’s nasty personality.”

“I still don’t understand the second line of the prophecy, about the princes’ war. Who ends up fighting and turning the capital into a sea of fire?”

“A fight that turns the capital into a sea of fire? Did you see that in a vision?”

Clayio’s voice unconsciously rose.

‘What the hell. He knows almost all the major events. At this point, he’s basically a regressor.’

“Yeah. It was just a moment, but the vision was so vivid, I could even feel the heat.”

“At this rate, a sibling fight will ruin the whole country.”

Arthur buried his head in his knees, hands clutching his hair.

“Whew, tell me about it. My father, the one who stabbed his own brother, why did he have three kids?”

Clayio thought a little differently.

‘Maybe it’s because he committed fratricide himself that he had children with different people. Madness runs in the royal family’s blood.’

“But Ray, aren’t there things you haven’t told me, too?”

Since there were more than a few things he hadn’t revealed to Arthur, Clayio was a bit nervous about what he’d bring up.

“What?”

“In the ‘Remembered Space,’ you could see the monsters’ weaknesses as clearly as I could. You can’t boost your vision with ether like the swordsmen, so… I figured you must have abilities related to observation as well as prediction. Am I wrong?”

It seemed Arthur had noticed “Perception.”

And that was probably the least significant thing Clayio hadn’t told him.

Relieved that the room was dark, Clayio let out a shallow sigh of relief.

“Yeah. I was born with [Ether Detection] ability. But it’s not a stigma.”

According to literature, there were rare cases of people being born with the [Ether Detection] common skill.

‘Originally, only swordsmen of level 3 or higher could sense the flow of qi and judge the skill of other high-level swordsmen, but who cares.’

The “Understanding” function of “Promise” only displayed the opponent’s level message accurately when they used ether.

From his own investigations, Clayio learned that ordinary ether-sensitives could recognize their own level as if it appeared in their mind.

When not using ether, [Ether Detection] was similar in that it could only roughly determine if someone was a knight or mage, or whether they were advanced or intermediate.

“Wow, that’s amazing. Seeing is half the fight. If you could wield a sword, you’d be the first magical swordsman in history….”

“You teasing me? You saw me fail at the training ground because I couldn’t even grip a sword.”

“I was just saying, just in case.”

“With all the swordsmen among your companions, I’ll keep my own hands empty, thanks.”

“Hey! Ray!”

“What.”

“Did you just call yourself my companion?”

[? User’s narrative intervention rate is rapidly increasing.]

At the oddly inappropriate message from Promise, Clayio flinched noticeably.

‘Maybe it’s because he grew up so isolated, but he’s really particular about who’s “his people.”’

“Who else’s side would I be on if not yours? It hasn’t been that long since I showed you my father’s letter, so why the random comment?”

Arthur beamed with a smile so bright, it seemed like it could light up the dark room.

It was an expression so dazzling, it was hard to meet his gaze.

“Hearing it from you, who’s always been so unmotivated, makes it feel real. It’s one thing for me to see you as my companion, and another for you to see yourself that way!”

“Now, of all times? And I’m still not motivated.”

“…You don’t regret it, do you? All this must be a huge burden for you….”

“We’re way past that point for regrets, aren’t we? Don’t forget you promised me a seat in the House of Nobles.”

“Ah, seriously! If I ever get the authority, I’ll make you a noble first. You’ll be my number one!”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

---

Until the day of the promise with Dione, he just lazed around with Behemoth, snacking on alcohol he’d brought from home.

With the weather turning cold, Behemoth grew lazy about patrolling its territory and started melting into the bed with Clayio.

Clayio, who wouldn’t leave the bed except to eat, at least worked hard at ether manipulation.

If he expanded his vessel whenever he had the chance, he could avoid collapsing every time he used magic.

‘Best of all, you can practice ether manipulation while lying down.’

Honestly, he was never a diligent person.

Even in his original world, Clayio could spend an entire weekend in bed if he didn’t have extra work.

‘I only lived diligently because I’d end up on the street otherwise.’

But now, even if the world ended tomorrow, he had real estate. No matter how lazy he got, he wouldn’t starve.

He repeated the endless cycle of eating, sleeping, and lazing around, and when he got tired of ether circulation, he read regulations and laws related to the Capital Defense Force.

Time flew by in the blink of an eye.

Saturday afternoon.

Zebedee personally visited the dorm, checked Clayio over, and with a sentimental expression, granted him permission to go out.

Sunday noon.

When he met Dione in the dramatically improved Oreils District, she was, for some reason, wearing her hat pulled down low.

Her outfit and grooming were as perfect as always, but her eyes were swollen beneath the wide-brimmed hat.

“Did something happen, Lady Dione?”

Dione, shading her eyes with her parasol, answered in a hoarse voice.

“Oh, don’t even ask. I cried all night until dawn, and my head’s still ringing.”

“Was there some misfortune in your family…?”

“My family? The only one left is an uncle who won’t die even if you try—there’s nothing to cry about. No, it’s because yesterday, a side story of was released. I read that novel, and it was so sad… Oh, my poor lord.”

“I’ve never heard of that book, but it must be quite moving…?”

As he unconsciously edged away from Dione, Clayio thought to himself.

‘Who would have thought such a capable, put-together mage and asset manager was a deep-dyed fan inside….’

Come to think of it, when they first met during summer vacation, Dione had been so busy scooping up new books at the bookstore that Clayio had been able to slip away to the bank.

Even in the 19th century, there were surely hardcore fans with no grip on reality. All those readers who demanded Holmes be resurrected after Reichenbach were also people of the 19th century.

‘This is the golden age of publishing, when publishing is profitable. The number of readers increases, novels sell worldwide….’

While Clayio was struck by a wave of professional nostalgia, Dione made a fuss.

“You don’t know ? Look, it’s that popular book displayed in every bookstore window in the Oreils District.”

Dione pointed to a bookstore at the street corner. In the middle of the clean, polished window sat a yellow hardcover book titled .

“It’s the hottest series in Albion right now, and you’ve never heard of it? The opera adaptation opens next week! Ugh! Don’t just bury yourself in magic, read a book for once!”

“…Yeah.”

Clayio, who’d often been told he read too many useless books, had never in his life been accused of not reading at all.

He could only smile awkwardly.

“By the way, that bookstore looks new, doesn’t it? The sign and windows are all brand new.”

“A clean shop is a good sign. It’s proof that the Oreils District is completely changing. Oh, since we’re here, I’ll buy you a copy of —take it.”

Swept along by Dione’s energy, Clayio ended up browsing the small bookstore that had just opened on the newly paved corner. The inside was neat, and the young owner was friendly.

It was hard to believe that just a few months ago, the only business in the area was a decrepit bar-café barely hanging on.

Beyond the bookstore window was a hotel construction site.

Normally, groundwork and infrastructure would take at least three years, but in this world, there was magic.

The royal family was putting all its efforts into the Lundein East Station project, so government and military mages had been mobilized across all departments.

Even on the side of the lot that Katarina hadn’t leased, a fountain was being installed in the middle and trees planted, making it look quite respectable.

Seeing how much the Oreils District had changed in just a few months, Clayio had all sorts of ideas.

‘After the war, it might be good to build a shopping arcade there. With the station open, foot traffic will increase. Or maybe, even if it’s short, an arcade would be better?’

Katarina was the darling of the hospitality industry, and if her profits increased, the land use fees could be raised as well.

The calculation was clear.

‘If I have the resources, I could restore some magic tools and sell some magic stones. If I just endure for a few years until Arthur becomes king, I could put up a building without outside investment.’