Editor 79

The Steadfast Gardener (1)

Kleio just smiled.

After giving Behemoth, who was grooming his fur with a shameless face, a tight hug, he checked how much wine was left in the suitcase he had brought from home.

There happened to be something good.

“Luhra Noble Rot wine goes well with foie gras drizzled with a sauce made from the same wine and honey, doesn’t it, Mr. Mot?”

“You naively assume that an enlightened being like this cat would always fall for the same trick!”

“What if I consider you a cat with consistent seriousness?”

“Hurry up and pour. The wine.”

Behemoth, who had kicked Kleio off with a nimble hind leg, landed in front of the suitcase with the wine like a giant flying squirrel.

Then, he nudged the bag’s lock with his snout.

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.

.

Luhra wine had a golden color close to bright scarlet, giving it a similar feel to Tokaji wine from the other world.

It was a noble rot wine produced in the border region between the Principality of Brunnen and the Duchy of Krater, sweet and clinging to the tongue.

The fact that the place of origin was far away meant it was rare. Kleio had managed to acquire only two bottles of Luhra wine.

His heart ached, but he made a patriotic decision and handed one of the bottles to the errand boy.

“Go to Kettners Restaurant, entrust this wine to the manager, and ask them to pack foie gras and apple dishes glazed with honey and this Luhra wine.”

“You probably need to mention a referral to get into such a restaurant. Should I use Lord Aser’s name?”

“…Tell them to use Lady Dione’s name and have the confirmation go through the merchant guild. But just receive the bill and bring it to me.”

“Understood!”

The errand boy, generously paid for his trouble, left the dormitory as if flying.

Two hours later, when the boy returned, the dish was still warm. Even before the round lid covering the plate was lifted, Mot was already dashing around the floor.

Kleio, careful not to spill the wine, stepped back and inserted the opener into the cork.

Creak, creak

Pop—

Glug, glug, glug

Lick, lick, chomp, chomp

“Ha, this is simply exquisite!”

Behemoth, who licked the water bowl clean with a satisfied face, opened his mouth again.

“Even if you melted a beehive to make liquor, it wouldn’t be this sweet.”

Having received half a glass of wine thanks to Behemoth’s generosity, Kleio brought up the main topic.

“So, what did you remember?”

“Let’s see, it was the third year this cat spent at this school. Up until then, there was still some demonic beast blood left from the rampage a thousand years ago, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And one more thing. There’s a plant called Ezra’s iron pen that grows in the northern mountain region of Brunnen. It’s like a reed but broader.”

“So?”

“They say burning Ezra’s iron pen repels demonic beasts. A third-year student researching that principle must have seen something in an old Brunnen text… After mixing rotten demonic beast blood and the plant, he boiled it in ether and drank it.”

“He boiled reed and demonic beast blood in ether and drank it? Ugh. Why on earth?”

“I don’t know either. He was always a gloomy guy obsessed with dark magic. The porridge he made was called ‘Hydra’s Poison.’ Doesn’t the name just reek of childishness?”

“Well… I suppose….”

Chuunibyou was a serious illness, especially in a world like this, where it could take your life.

“He blew up a building, went mad, and died. Don’t you think the location of the school’s drill ground is odd? Why do you think they left such a prime spot empty? It’s because he blew up the building there.”

“So what’s that got to do with the red eyes?”

“After eating that weird stuff, the foolish magician’s eyes and ether turned bright red. I saw it myself.”

“!!!”

The red eyes of the magician who performed a dangerous experiment.

The red eyes of the assassins who attacked Arthur.

And ‘Hydra’s Poison.’

The connection seemed high, as if it were underlined with a red pen.

“Is the Hydra’s Poison incident famous? Like, is it something everyone knows except me?”

“No way. Even mentioning it is top secret.”

“But you knew about it, Mot.”

“Hmph, you may praise this cat for providing the clue to the case.”

Pleased with the wine and snacks, Behemoth sprawled out, licking his front paws.

Only Kleio’s blood pressure rose at that carefreeness.

“If you knew that, you could have told me sooner….”

“This cat is a genius but not perfect! Did you expect me to remember something from 97 years ago right away? I only remembered after seeing it at the theater! If you live a long life, you won’t blame this cat either!”

“Our venerable cat, getting fuzzy on old memories, you must have been exaggerating. Goodness, you’ve lived a hundred years, so you should stay healthy for a thousand or ten thousand more.”

Feeling frustrated at having taken such a roundabout way, Kleio made a sarcastic remark, but Behemoth ignored even that and picked a random fight.

“When did this cat ever say I was only a mere hundred years old?”

“You said you lived a hundred years at the school.”

“That’s right, I lived a hundred years by the Tempus River.”

“And before that?”

“This cat can live anywhere near the Gate of Mnemosyne. That is my domain. At one time, my territory was vast.”

“…Mr. Mot, are you actually an ancestral tomb? If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

“Hey! You must not ask the venerable cat about age.”

“Oh, come on….”

The conversation had already gone off the rails. After bickering for a while and getting out of breath, the one cat and one person lay down together on the bed. As Kleio caught his breath, he gently stroked Behemoth’s back and returned to the main topic.

“Is there any more detailed record of the incident from 97 years ago? Like the magician’s experiment notes, the old text he saw, anything. Can I find something in the Saint Patin reading room at the school?”

The Saint Patin reading room, the library of the Capital Defense Academy, held all kinds of magical books from ancient and modern times.

The librarian proudly said it was the largest magical book library on the continent.

“It’s not there.”

“If it’s not in Saint Patin, where on earth do I look?”

“The incident log and the book that foolish bastard referenced would be in the King’s Library. The royal guards took everything at the time.”

“The King’s Library? Ah…!”

Kleio remembered what Arthur had told him before. Only those authorized by the king could enter, and it housed forbidden magical books and ancient texts.

“Have you heard of it? The King’s Library is the royal family’s innermost sanctum.”

“So I guess there’s no way to get a copy left at the school.”

“Even trying that magic again is banned, so what copy? The madman’s laboratory burned up when he died, and even the papers the guards took were half burnt.”

“So to learn exactly what that magic is….”

“You need the king’s or the regent’s permission.”

“No way.”

King Philip of Albion was gravely ill and could not handle state affairs. The current regent of Albion was Melchior Riognan.

In other words, to enter the King’s Library, you needed Melchior’s permission. But he didn’t even grant entry to Aslan.

Just listing the facts was already exhausting.

“Is there any way to sneak in there?”

“I heard from the previous headmaster, who was fond of giving me wine, that the King’s Library is protected by wards and you have to pass the corridor in front of the king’s bedroom. Even with my clever mind, I can’t think of a way to break into the most heavily guarded place in the country.”

“Haaaah….”

Kleio downed the last sip of wine in his glass with a gloomy heart.

.

.

.

Coming down to the dorm office to make a call, Kleio hesitated for a long time as he looked at a piece of paper wrinkled with sweat from his hand.

It was a business card with his direct number.

‘He’d probably connect me to Melchior if I asked, but I really don’t want to stick my neck into the lion’s mouth voluntarily.’

After a long while, Kleio picked up the receiver and gave Kinnear’s number to the operator.

The call was connected quickly.

Without much expectation, Kleio asked Kinnear for a private meeting with Melchior.

Exactly twelve minutes later, there was a reply.

“Does it have to be an official audience?”

“No. It’s a personal matter.”

“Then would tomorrow afternoon be alright? The official schedule is booked for the next six weeks and can’t be adjusted. But tomorrow is His Highness’s rest day, so he says an informal meeting at the villa would be allowed.”

Kleio gave Kinnear a soulless thank you.

Even after hanging up, he was dumbfounded.

Was the Crown Prince really someone you could meet with a single phone call?

Still, if he agreed to meet, what could you say?

‘I’ll tell the other kids after things are resolved. Who knows what cursed document is in that library. If something goes wrong, I’ll handle it as best I can without letting Melchior read my mind. Those kids have too much to protect.’

---

The next afternoon, Kleio arrived alone at the royal palace.

Albion’s palace began with the ‘King’s Hall’ built during the reign of Leonid I, and had been expanded for a thousand years.

In other words, the layout inside the walls was more complicated than an anthill.

‘No wonder people get lost during the birthday festival. How can a building people live in be such a maze? Everyone would die if there’s a fire.’

The entrance and central hall he passed that day were the most recently renovated parts, following the latest trends.

But behind the central hall, the older buildings connected to the outer palace still retained their ancient appearance, arranged in a complex manner.

It was a strange space where a thousand years of styles were mixed together.

‘Well, even if they wanted to fix it, they couldn’t. It’s not like they can just bulldoze it and redevelop.’

With a very Korean thought, he wondered if they even had heating here in winter.

Guided by a silent attendant, he walked for nearly an hour. By the end, he almost asked if they could take a break.

Of course, with the Crown Prince waiting, it wasn’t something appropriate to say. Besides, Kleio was the one making a request.

After exiting what must have been about the twelfth back door, he was outside again.

The attendant, holding the doorknob, gestured for Kleio to step out.

“His Highness is waiting in the villa here.”

“Aren’t you going to escort me all the way to the villa?”

“Apologies, but a mere attendant is not allowed to enter that area. Please understand the lack of courtesy.”

With a polite but cold tone, the attendant disappeared silently through the door.

‘A private meeting… I’m dying of nerves.’

Left alone, Kleio reluctantly stepped outside.

He activated [Separation] for safety, then took a determined step forward—only to be met with an unfamiliar scene.

‘What’s with this weed patch…?’

The garden in front of the outer palace, with its grand fountains and statues set among perfectly clipped yew mazes, was worthy of the palace’s dignity.

But what Kleio saw now was a humble meadow, almost unbelievable for a royal palace.

‘He said villa, but where’s the building?’

After going further in, he finally glimpsed a red roof and brick chimney beyond thick trees, vines, a boxwood fence, and a crooked wooden lattice gate.

It was a small cottage, the kind you’d see in the countryside.

‘Is that it?’

With no other choice, Kleio headed toward the building.

There were many corners of the garden untouched by human hands. Between the terra cotta paving stones, untended weeds grew. Above a clumsily tied arch, wisteria vines tangled thickly.

‘Maybe it’s because I visited the Queen’s Garden recently, but this scene feels so off.’

Passing under the arch and turning a corner, he saw a few late-blooming anemones by a lonely pond.

Swaaah—

Kleio, distracted by the anemone petals fluttering in the wind, sensed the presence a little late.

A tall figure in a sun-shading straw hat, worn boots, a frayed tweed vest, and outdoor pants stood with his back turned.

‘Didn’t they say Melchior was waiting… Gasp.’

The man, skillfully tending the garden, noticed Kleio and turned around.

Kleio realized.

He could recognize the flowers only because this man was hiding his face in the shadows.

Under the sun, his figure felt even more unreal.

“You’ve arrived, Sir Kleio.”

“I-I greet Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

Kleio was so flustered he almost bit his tongue. The person in unmistakable gardener’s attire was Melchior himself.

“Just in time, the autumn roses haven’t all fallen yet. If you had been a day or two later, you wouldn’t have seen them—you’re lucky.”