Editor 60
by CristaeThe Gate of Mnemosyne (1)
Arthur was surprised, then flustered, then sorry.
That’s right. That was an apologetic face.
He thought Cleio was suffering because he got entangled with his sibling because of Arthur.
Seeing that, Cleio could understand why, in most fiction, the protagonist had to be someone uncomplicated.
‘Mysterious villain types are only good to read about in books; if you have to live around them, a simple, loyal protagonist is better after all.’
“Don’t say things like that, even as a joke. They say if you bury something in the ‘King’s Forest,’ it can never be found. The darkness of the forest swallows up anything.”
This time, Cleio nodded for a different reason.
‘As expected, Melchior had something to rely on.’
If it was in the capital, where there were many watchful eyes, it would have been difficult to dispose of the body cleanly.
‘The radicals of the ‘Banner’ picked the wrong place.’
No, from the start, it was probably a trap to invite the Capital Defense School students to the ‘King’s Forest.’
‘Testing Fran, setting up sting operations, motivating the researchers. The competent crown prince really does things efficiently.’
How many bodies must be buried in that forest?
Thinking about that, even the animals caught during yesterday’s hunt suddenly looked different.
“But does everyone really want to… hunt animals in a place like that?”
“You ate the animals caught there just fine, so what are you talking about?”
“Hey, why’d you have to remind me of that now….”
Cleio, whose condition was the worst, felt queasy on top of everything else and collapsed on the floor.
He hadn’t even eaten dinner, and with his stomach flipping over, he felt like he might die.
‘My pride was never getting gastritis even when drinking after overtime, but now….’
Even Arthur stopped trying to wake him, and Cleio was about to fall asleep as if fainting, when the cold from the stone floor crept through his clothes, making him flinch awake.
Arthur, sitting right in front of him, was deep in thought.
Even in crushing fatigue—no, maybe because he was so exhausted—Cleio’s mind suddenly cleared up.
Even without something like ‘structure vision of insight,’ he could guess what Arthur was worrying about.
Cleio stretched out his limbs, which had been crumpled up, and barely managed to sit up, clearing his hoarse throat.
“Hm, ahem. Ahem. Hey, are you still worried I’ll take your brother’s side? I’ve already invested in you, so why would I do that now?”
Cleio grumbled, pointing at the magic tool on Arthur’s waist, one of the best swords of this era.
Arthur, apparently at a loss for words, just scratched his head.
“I know you wouldn’t. But… you never know what Melchior will do. No, he’ll do anything. I kept thinking, did giving him the Tiphlaum mess things up or something?”
Well, seeing someone walk in and crawl out, it was natural to wonder if he’d been interrogated or something.
“Forget the Tiphlaum, it’s just that, even though I’m not some mutt, having the bait dangled in front of me felt awkward, embarrassing, and made me sweat.”
“What did my brother offer you?”
“What do you care?”
“I want to see how much that bastard raised the stakes.”
“It was nothing special. He tried to coax me by saying he’d put my name on next year’s list of peerage members in the House of Lords.”
“What the….”
“Whether I become a peerage member next year or later, as long as I get it, it doesn’t matter. Getting all flustered over something like that. How are you going to be king if you’re so faint-hearted?”
“Do you even know what lèse-majesté is? What if you get in trouble for saying things like that? I rarely worry about others, but I worry about you.”
“No one’s eavesdropping, so don’t worry. We just got a call that the Gate of Mnemosyne has opened in the capital. Your brother and his attendants are probably packing their bags in a hurry.”
“What? The gate opened?”
“I said so. They were in a rush to set up an express train right now. Thanks to that, I got let go—otherwise, I would have been up all night. I might have passed out in the middle.”
“Looking at you, I guess that’s not an exaggeration.”
“Yeah, if they were going to come looking anyway, why didn’t they just wait out front instead of here?”
“…I was afraid your brother’s attendant, Taetherton, would notice. He’s a level 7 swordsman.”
Arthur, saying that, looked so dejected he would have had droopy ears if he were a dog.
Being at level 5 at age 17 was already an extraordinary achievement, but he was frustrated that he couldn’t immediately catch up to Taetherton, who was ten years older.
“You’d better hurry up and become an advanced swordsman.”
“I will. I really want to.”
The gloom was brief.
Arthur got up briskly and pulled Cleio, who was still sprawled out, to his feet.
“Come on, get up. A weakling like you will be sick in bed for a week if you sleep here.”
Arthur half-dragged the limp Cleio and eventually brought him to the bedroom.
As soon as he collapsed onto the guest room bed, Cleio fell asleep without even saying goodbye.
The next morning.
All the students who had gone on the field trip boarded the first train to Dubris-Val Lundein Central Station.
The train ran nonstop, reaching the outskirts of the capital before noon, but it took time to enter the central station.
“The east station in the Orails district needs to open soon.”
“Right. It’s a problem getting stuck here when we’re so close.”
Professor Maria and the accompanying teaching assistant couldn’t hide their impatience. They had to get back to school as soon as possible.
Snore— snore
Zzz…
The teachers in the front car didn’t care whether the students were anxious or not; Cleio was sound asleep.
“Lipi, Leticia. We’re almost there, wake Ray up.”
“Uh-, I feel too sorry to wake him.”
“He’s sleeping like he hasn’t slept in a thousand years. Even the skin under his eyes is dark.”
Not knowing the situation, the twins circled around Cleio in puzzlement.
As the central station came into view, the train began to slow down.
“Well, we’ll just have to tell him to go straight to the dorm and sleep.”
“That’s true.”
“Yeah.”
“Ray! Wake up!”
“We’re here!”
Even with the Angelium twins chattering all around, he didn’t open his eyes.
“Huh? Uh… uh, wait a second….”
Lipi and Leticia put their heads together and began to plot something new.
“He can’t get up.”
“Should we carry him?”
“Our heights don’t match.”
Lipi asked Chel for help.
“Chel, can you carry him?”
“I only carry ladies in my arms. Pass.”
Click—
At that moment, the compartment door opened and Isiel entered. She must have heard the conversation from the corridor.
“I’ll do it.”
Isiel sighed lightly as she looked at Cleio, who was sleeping with his head drooped pitifully.
Her softly curled red hair, grown to her shoulders, swayed with her sigh.
“Thank goodness Isiel is helping!”
“Why does Ray have to be so pointlessly tall, making people work harder.”
Isiel lifted Cleio lightly, as if handling a child.
“I guess it wasn’t a lie when he said he’d been sick and holed up all this time.”
The students hurriedly switched to carriages.
In front of the central station, the cries of newspaper boys handing out extras were noisy.
“Extra!”
“Extra!”
The air in the capital was uneasy.
Lundein was boiling over with the news that the Gate of Mnemosyne had opened. Excitement, fear, curiosity, and anxiety were all mixed up.
Even just looking out the carriage window, the agitation of the people could be felt.
While the boys and girls fell quiet from tension, Cleio kept sleeping. Even when they arrived at school, he didn’t think of waking up.
“Looks like Isiel will have to work hard again.”
“It’s not really hard.”
The twins quickly loaded Cleio onto Isiel’s back like luggage after she hopped down from the carriage.
With every step Isiel took, Cleio’s shins, dangling under her arms, swayed limply.
The twins, following behind with Cleio’s bag, burst out laughing.
“Kya-ha-ha, what is that? It looks like she’s carrying a scarecrow.”
“Maybe a scarecrow filled with sand would be heavier than Ray.”
Behind the children’s laughter, the disciplined footsteps of knights and soldiers marching mixed in.
Drowsily struggling out of sleep, Cleio barely opened his eyes to see dozens of troops entering the school gate.
Unlike the Capital Defense Knights, they wore black sashes diagonally over their uniforms.
They were members of the Cruel Knights from the Southeast Defense Force and the private soldiers of the Duke of Cruel.
They were clearly invading the territory of the Capital Defense Knights.
No one stopped these strangers from entering the school.
Since both Zebedi and Rosa were held up in front of the Gate of Mnemosyne, no one had noticed the anomaly.
‘It must be Aslan’s doing.’
Of course, Cleio couldn’t care less.
‘The first dungeon that opens is just for adaptation, so there won’t be any great rewards anyway.’
For people in this world, with a gate opening for the first time in a thousand years as only legend, it was understandable to make a big fuss….
‘They’ll get used to it soon enough anyway.’
From here on, it was up to the protagonist and his friends, and the villain and his companions, to handle things themselves.
Exhausted from the tumultuous autumn excursion, Cleio didn’t want to care about anything anymore.
He started dozing off again, not even knowing who was carrying him.
The school’s outer barrier was activated.
Zebedi could cast it alone since the circle’s range covered the entire school, but for other magicians, several people each took one of the east, west, south, and north barrier stones.
Teaching assistants, upper-grade magic students, and magicians from the Capital Defense Mage Corps took turns to reactivate the barrier once every 24 hours.
As a result, the barrier stones made of manastone agate glowed all day long.
Classes continued despite the restless atmosphere.
Neither teachers nor students let the mere opening of a gate disrupt their daily lives.
Only, due to the instructors’ circumstances, Swordsmanship Basics II was replaced with history.
Magic Basics II was originally alternated by Professor Maria Gentile and Zebedi, so there was no big problem.
Since messages had gone out nationwide, the main members of the Capital Defense Mage Corps and senior knights who were dispatched to the provinces would return to the capital, so Zebedi and Maria would be able to catch their breath and return to classes, according to the explanation given.
‘I’ve read that for Sword Masters and Mage Masters, staying up all night for a week is nothing if they put their minds to it, but actually seeing it is surprising.’
With the Duke of Cruel’s private soldiers swarming, Cleio couldn’t get close to the gate, but recalling the description he’d read in the manuscript, he could easily imagine Professor Rosa standing guard with her sword drawn in front of the ‘Gate of Mnemosyne.’
Next to her would be Zebedi, in his robe, holding his usual crooked staff.
An 8th-level swordsman and an 8th-level mage.
Both had [sworn] to defend the capital, so they could not enter the Gate of Mnemosyne.
The school, built for this very day, responded perfectly to the opening of a gateway to another world.
Old rules and mysterious protocols had been handed down perfectly from the time of Leonid I.
‘If you think about it, it’s really strange. As if they had predicted the events of a thousand years later, a thousand years ago. If I didn’t know this was a fictional world, I couldn’t accept it….’
But unlike Cleio, everyone here took such arrangements for granted.
Cherka’s slow, unchanging voice as she lectured on the kingdom’s history flowed into Cleio’s ears.
“…Therefore, by the promise Leonid I obtained, every king of Albion can cause a solar eclipse once in their life.
At every coronation for a thousand years, an annular solar eclipse has occurred in the sky over Lundein at the moment of crowning. The ring of light shines on the king above the crown. The stars change their positions for him.
That is the only remaining promise in a world where gods do not intervene, and it is the ultimate basis of royal authority.”
‘A king….’
Cleio’s thoughts circled back to the crown prince.
Melchior, who remembered erased pasts, who knew this story was being rewritten.
‘If he remembers the manuscript in detail, enough to know that Fran invents the formula—in other words, if from the author’s perspective he remembers the ‘previous life’…’
Suddenly, a thunderous realization struck Cleio’s mind.
Why would the crown prince closest to the throne, already possessing significant influence, need ‘propaganda’?
‘Melchior definitely knows what he’s going to do!’
He was given a more terrible role than any other character in .
‘In the , Melchior… even if ‘that event’ happens, he’s determined to become king…!’
If so, maybe Fran’s stigmata was needed to smooth over what Melchior was about to do.
He intended to manipulate public opinion and use even the support of the masses.
‘See… I was right.’
Cleio’s jaw tightened as he chewed the end of his pen.
Whether he came from outside the story or not didn’t matter much. Just as ‘Jeongjin’ was Cleio, he was Melchior.
Looking at the Melchior of the <Final Draft>, a crown prince who had endured eight hellish cycles, it was clear he was cursing the author’s plans.
In other words, he would never exit the stage according to the author’s wishes or the author’s desired plot.
‘Is this <Final Draft> really okay…? Is this a story I can even manage to tie up?’