Editor 55

Field Trip (3)

They could not use magic to move in the dark forest.

Earlier, it was because they didn’t know, but wandering in the middle of the night in a forest where a knife-wielding thug was waiting was not the right thing to do.

‘Magic is so convenient and good, but I didn’t expect the inability to hide its light would be such a big drawback.’

In the previous manuscript, magic was only for healing or research, so the light it emitted was not a problem at all.

‘A wizard who takes a mid-level manager of an underground organization to meet armed members in the middle of the night wasn’t in the last version either. That’s my fate.’

Fortunately, since they had already taken this path once before, finding the way the second time was not difficult.

The two boys walked softly, suppressing their footsteps.

Both were light on their feet, so their presence did not stand out much.

With “Perception” activated, Cleio could hear the two men talking even before he touched the beech tree.

They were in the middle of planning how to capture and beat up Fran.

Fran, knowing nothing, closely followed Cleio.

Cleio stopped and whispered to Fran in a low voice.

“We’re almost there. If you take me, it’ll stand out, so it’s better if you go alone, right? But please don’t move past the edge of the beech tree’s shadow. If you go beyond the range of my circle, I can’t protect you.”

“…I’m also a wizard who can open a circle. I can at least use magic.”

Fran, with his strong pride, did not easily listen even after coming this far.

Or maybe he just didn’t want to believe his comrades would attack him.

‘Besides, level 2 magic isn’t very reliable.’

“Please, just this once, listen to me. If nothing happens, there won’t be any need for magic.”

“……”

“If your comrades do something out of line, someone has to stop them. If even you get hurt, who will do that?”

Only then did Fran seem to agree and passed Cleio to move forward.

‘Phew, he’s really hard to deal with. Even when I try to protect him, he hates it.’

Because Cleio had used , the night had become unbearably long for him.

A thousand years of fatigue came rushing in, but he forced himself to cheer up and chased after Fran.

.

.

.

Under the beech tree, the result of the ‘Flag of the People’ night meeting was obvious.

If not for Cleio’s defense magic, Fran would have been killed once more.

Fran used his stigmata.

A trumpet shone on the back of his hand. At the sharp question of whether Melchior’s promise was genuine, the two men were greatly shaken.

However, their stubbornness, born solely from a desire to survive, was even stronger.

Until ‘Big-footed Bill’ swung his axe, Fran didn’t even unfold his circle and just stared straight at him.

KWAANG―!

A flash of aetheric light, and the weapon bounced off the defense magic.

‘What would have happened if I hadn’t followed! Damn it.’

“Shit, what’s wrong with this!”

“Try aiming somewhere other than the head!”

Bill didn’t give up, lowering his stance and aiming for Fran’s right arm instead of his neck.

If Fran’s thin arm had been properly hit by the axe, it would have been severed in one blow.

Cleio spared no aether and poured it into the magic formula.

KIIIIIIK―!

KWAJIK!

Sparks flew!

The axe, struggling against the barrier, broke its handle.

The axe blade, flying wildly on its own, stuck into the trunk of the beech tree.

Paul rushed in again with a dagger, but his attack was also completely ineffective. The two men, flustered, cursed and ran away in an instant.

‘Bastards. They act so cruelly, but run away at mere defense magic?’

Only Fran was left alone under the beech tree.

The boy’s back looked extremely lonely.

Having come out without even a coat, the cold Cleio wanted to go back inside quickly, but he also had a sense of tact.

Thinking of the feelings of an underground organization activist betrayed by his comrades… and worrying that this precious talent might be hurt… he waited for a long time.

Just as he was contemplating whether to use magic because it was so cold, Fran finally turned to Cleio.

His expression was cold and firm.

“Let’s go in.”

The way back felt even longer than the way there.

When they entered the room, Fran slumped into the chair by the window. Cleio also sat down across from him.

He couldn’t sleep.

Only belatedly did his heart pound.

It wasn’t his first time seeing a corpse, but seeing it repeatedly didn’t make it any easier.

He was glad he could save Fran.

“…I made a lot of enemies. I have big emotional swings and don’t know how to hide my true feelings. Robert always protected me like that. Until he died.”

‘Is this confession time….’

Cleio listened intently, wearing a very serious expression. It was something he couldn’t help but pay attention to.

‘I should learn a bit about how a guy born as the eldest son of a count’s family ended up here.’

“Robert threw himself into the revolution of the Carolingian Republic, but after the revolutionary government was established, he was expelled during the Reign of Terror and returned to Albion… He was originally a noble of Albion. For the past twenty years, he was the leader of the ‘Flag’. I met him as my tutor.”

Cleio clicked his tongue inwardly.

‘No, I mean, republican ideals are good, they are… But why did he have to turn this kid into a full-time activist and make him quit science! It’d be fine if he was an activist as long as he didn’t quit research!’

Cleio resented the successful indoctrination of Robert, whom he had never even met.

“After the creation of the Albion Commons, the ‘Flag’ was almost disbanded. Most of the moderates compromised and moved into parliamentary power. Robert, who came later, soon became the center of the organization.”

Twenty-two years ago, a revolution broke out in the Carolingian Kingdom, the royal family and nobles were executed, and a republic was established.

Albion, sharing a border with the Carolingian Republic, also saw anti-monarchist and republican forces rise like wildfire.

‘I knew they created the Commons to quell that discontent….’

What Fran was saying was the other side of the manuscript Cleio had read, the unrecorded history.

“The ‘Flag’ maintained itself by supporting the creation of labor unions. The current Commons only represents the wealthy, so expanding suffrage was the main goal. But a few years ago, the radicals started to gain influence in strange ways.”

‘Strangely… huh.’

It didn’t seem like a coincidence. If it was Melchior, he could easily orchestrate such a scheme.

‘Planting a few radicals would have been nothing for the crown prince.’

“The radicals of the ‘Flag’ eventually tried to assassinate Melchior in Lundain. Of course, they failed. Robert opposed terrorism to the end but took responsibility. He helped his comrades escape, lured the secret intelligence service, and stayed behind at the safe house.”

Fran swallowed dryly, as if it was hard to speak further.

Cleio brought some water and offered it to Fran.

Fran, receiving the cup weakly, continued the rest of the story to the end.

As if he had always wanted someone to hear it.

“The people arrested with him were all dumped outside the city gates of the royal palace, driven mad, but only Robert walked out the back gate, escorted by the crown prince, without a scratch.”

“!!!”

“Anyone would have thought Robert betrayed them.”

‘Wow… Melchior, that bastard, is really vicious.’

If he did that, his comrades would have no choice but to suspect Robert.

“The organization was completely finished. I transferred to the Capital Defense School, which is harder for outsiders to infiltrate than the Science Academy. The reason I took on such a big responsibility at my age… was to destroy any remaining records to reduce the damage to even one person.”

Cleio just nodded. Whatever he said, it would be hard to comfort Fran.

“Even that is being used in this way.”

Fran, having put down the cup, gazed out the window. He was not seeing the black forest, but some scene from his memory.

“I was hiding in the alley, watching Robert as he left through the back gate of the palace. Robert, who smiled at the door, knelt before the crown prince and kissed the back of his hand.”

“What the….”

“I don’t think he betrayed us. He’s the kind of person who would cut his own knee rather than do such a thing. In fact, he already didn’t have his left arm. He wrote a public letter criticizing Carolingian dictator Victoire Moreau as a comrade and was dismissed for it. Robert was left-handed.”

It was a brutally real 19th-century political history.

The eighteen-year-old boy in front of him was telling a story one might only read in history books or novels as his own life.

“But I was also cowardly. When Robert was criticized by the few remaining comrades, I didn’t defend him. People were furious at Robert, asking how he could break his oath, how he could sell out his comrades.

Robert, who listened to the criticism without a single excuse, asked only one thing. Whether he had knelt to Melchior, as if it were someone else’s business.

I couldn’t lie. I said he had. When he heard my answer, he wrote a short note while standing and handed it to me. Then he walked out and threw himself into the Tempus River. His body was never found.”

“What did the note say?”

“‘Never meet Melchior Liognan alone. I hope you never experience your will being broken without even knowing it.’ When my head cooled, I realized. Melchior does something. No one notices it.”

Cleio was inwardly surprised. Fran had come to an almost factual deduction.

“After that, I was sick for ten days. When I woke up, that damned thing was on the back of my hand.”

Perhaps the regret and guilt over not saving Robert had engraved the stigmata on him.

Cleio looked at the back of Fran’s hand with a heavy heart.

‘That skill isn’t brainwashing, so it can’t change the mind of someone who firmly rejects it. It can even have the opposite effect… What a headache.’

“But why do you help me? Even if I hadn’t died today, I’ll either die someday or have my will broken. Melchior probably knows about me, too. Then you won’t be safe either.”

“That’s… because you’re definitely someone who has to do something more important. I can’t just let you be sacrificed like that.”

“About what, exactly. What do I have left?”

“The final problem of Tiphlam processing…?”

His true feelings slipped out without him realizing.

Honestly, he didn’t even know what kind of lie to tell here.

He hadn’t known Fran long, and it’s not like he was going to help with the organization’s activities, so what kind of excuse could he make?

‘Since I saved your life, at least think about it seriously once.’

“Ha, why are you so obsessed with Tiphlam anyway?”

“If you can just maintain the aether activation state, Tiphlam can be used everywhere. It’s a mineral that will produce tremendous profits. What’s more important to a merchant than money?”

“I can’t tell if you’re noble or materialistic.”

“Probably the latter. I have nothing noble about me. I’m the son of a merchant.”

“Then why do you oppose Melchior?”

“Because I share Arthur’s ideals.”

Fran’s face showed agitation, as if it was an answer he never expected.

There was a risk that telling Fran might get back to Melchior, but he couldn’t hide his support for Arthur’s side forever.

If saying it could earn Fran’s trust, it was a gamble worth taking.

“…Even so, they’re all the same disgusting royals.”

“You can think that, but… Arthur won’t forcibly break others’ wills or try to make them obey. That’s what he hates the most. He’s suffered a lot from it himself.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I see the future. You still don’t believe me?”

He couldn’t help but believe.

Just a few hours ago, thanks to Cleio, he had narrowly escaped death by an axe.

“My father was a commoner born in the slums of Oriens, and I’m his son.”

Cleio repeated what Dione had told him before.

“My father bought his baronetcy with money, everyone knows that. The high lords of the House of Peers would never choose someone like my father as Minister of Commerce. And for a businessman who became rich in his own generation to get a seat? Impossible in today’s Commons.”

‘Let’s go, leftist young master from a count’s family, attack him with class background!’

“The person who will create the best world for someone of common origin like me is Arthur. Only Arthur, who is neither a legitimate nor a child from marriage, can achieve that future. I’ve seen it.”

Fran, arms crossed, remained silent for a long time.

He had no idea if it worked or not, and as if to tease Cleio, the window began to brighten with dawn.

A truly dizzying fatigue crashed down like a landslide.

With no strength left, he had jumped from the third floor, climbed a mountain, made several round trips, used magic, and listened to a harrowing story almost impossible to endure sober.

His whole body ached, and just as he wanted to scream, Fran finally opened his mouth.

“For activating Tiphlam aether, the most effective catalyst for inscribing the formula is….”