The Editor Is the Novel’s Extra

Final Exam (3)

Dione and Kleio were only able to meet after lunch. After attending the VIP dinner, she seemed to have finished with her social activities. Behemoth, groaning all the while, went on a field tour in the afternoon after leaving a compliment to Kleio for his job well done. The two settled in a classroom at the end of the third floor of the lecture building, in a practice room, where the radiator was broken. It was one of the spots Arthur would come to nap, given its secluded nature.

Kleio filled two tin cups, a fragrant scent of cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, and nutmeg spreading into the cold air.

“Thank you.”

Dione, taking her thin hand out of her jacket, accepted her cup. The dark green top she wore made her pearl-like skin stand out even more. Dione sniffed at the drink as she gracefully raised the fox fur over her shoulders.

“Hmm. I really like this chai scent.”

“The workmanship of Mrs. Minton in the kitchen is outstanding.”

“It feels like my body is melting.”

Even with her fur coat, Dione looked cold. Kleio opened his circle and activated the [Fever] formula. He, too, began to feel the cold creeping in on his body, and there was no danger of attracting attention as ether was raging all over the school today. Kleio lightly recited the mantra, his voice low like he was reading a poem.

“[The flames become brighter,

My spring days were even closer.] 8)”

It sounded almost like a song as his breath hung for a moment in the cold air. Dione was usually a realist, but every time she saw his magic, she felt a flash of sentimentalism as she wondered at its beauty.

‘But he really doesn’t have any sentiments when he uses magic.’

Soon, the inside of his circle grew warm as if there were a bonfire. The golden light of ether shining around them made it seem like there was truly a fire there.

“Your ability to create a mood with a lady is getting better and better.”

Dione’s cheeks looked a pale pink as she teased him, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the flickering lights or her makeup. She smiled, speaking calmly as she regarded him.

“Now, let’s talk about why you accepted Ezra’s stupid bet. You don’t have any interests in the world except for land and alcohol.”

“I can’t fool the lady’s eyes…”

“Very true.”

He summarized the investigation plan as wrinkles formed on Dione’s brow.

“Hey, Lei. Those are some important things, but you might want to think again. If you go to his lab, it might be too late. He’s a level 6 wizard with the mental state of a five-year-old.”

“What should I do? Well, as long as he’s not siding with Aslan directly, it should be fine.”

“I don’t know if Ezra is a good choice, but I’m sure that madman wouldn’t stick to Aslan’s side. It’s unimaginable he would let anyone else have a sample once it’s in his hands.”

“Even if he’s presented with something like a new research achievement?”

“He… He’s a crazy guy because his goal to achieve magic is so different from ordinary people. He’s the only one on the Dernier continent who wants to shake things up. He doesn’t care about ether levels or humans.”

“You talk about him like he’s a cockroach.”

“Ah, don’t even start. I wish I didn’t even remember his name. He’s here again to torment me!”

Murderous intent was plain on Dione’s face. Apparently, Ezra had made himself a lifelong enemy, but thanks to that, Kleio was able to abandon his doubts about Ezra.

‘A celebrity who was in such a grand accident and whose behavior is out of control won’t fit into a secret organization.’

Though maybe he should listen to someone else’s testimony, given Dione’s clear biases.

‘Given his mental age, that might work out.’

Kleio’s thoughts were cut off as the assistant’s voice rang out from the building.

“The first-grade examination class finals; Arthur Riognan, Isiel Kision, please enter the test site.”

As the two names were called, tremendous cheers sounded throughout the school. The audience seats were almost entirely full. After Door of Mnemosyne opening, the public’s interest in magic and swordsmanship had increased tremendously. Even though it was cold, everyone seemed excited by the contest.

“Of course, those two would be in the finals.”

“Right. In terms of skill alone, those two have already surpassed the ranks of the Defense Force.”

Arthur had his practice sword instead of Beg’s blade, as did Isiel. The two greeted each other politely before taking their stances. Their fight looked more like a sword dance performed by two people than a proper competition. Isiel poked her sword at Arthur’s face without hesitation, and as he defended himself, she immediately turned her wrist and cut down his torso.

Klang-

The two training swords, made of dull iron, collided. Without hesitation, Arthur took a step forward and moved Isiel’s sword away in an instant. Isiel, light on her feet, retreated to the edge of the arena soundlessly, and Arthur stopped to catch his breath. It was hard to keep track of unless you were a skilled warrior yourself.

“What happened?”

“All I heard was sha-sha-sha.”

“I couldn’t keep up.”

“Oh, you two. Look by [Strengthening] your eyes.”

Professor Rosa Pehite and Professor George Naor, who was in charge of the upper grades, were in charge of judging. Pierce Klagen, head of the knights, should have also been present, but his seat was empty. Since he wasn’t there, the mood of the judging table was rather friendly. Assistant Calvin was still there with that trumpet.

Arthur stepped up, stably, and cut at Isiel twice. She jumped into the air, floating for a moment as her sword swept toward Arthur’s shoulder.

Shaaaa-

She cut through his shirt and skin shallowly. His left foot pushed back calmly as he swept his sword up to attack Isiel. Though the movement was incredibly fast, his gestures were relaxed. The blade cut off a handful of Isiel’s hair as she evaded the attack, sparking red in the sunlight. That was only the start, however, as Arthur strode towards Isiel.

‘His level is the same, but it’s a world of difference from the time he had a match with Professor Rosa. Is he a monster?’

Klang, klang!

Klang!

Isiel’s sword attack, light and sharp, came from all directions. Arthur, who smoothly stopped the flowing attacks, finally struck the final blow with a clean downward strike.

Klang!

Isiel struggled to block the attack, driven to the edge of the testing room. Her arms shook from the impact as Arthur stood back, and she was unable to lift her arms. The results were clear. Both judges agreed, and soon Calvin announced the results.

“First-year winner, Arthur Reignan.”

People clapped and cheered, having not even seen what happened. Arthur’s name could be barely heard in the uproar.

“Of course, Prince Arthur is unique. I wanted to see why you chose him, but Lei, should I say you’re a pioneer?”

“What? Just because he uses a sword well doesn’t mean he can achieve everything.”

“But that’s different when you’re a prince with dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and fine skill with the sword. Some fantasies are the basis of power.”

“Is that so…?”

“Lei! Maybe you’re not impressed, but stop by Antario bridge and ask anyone. There must be a hundred who would exclaim the prince is handsome!”

Of course, Arthur had the appearance of the main character, though it was still awkward to listen to.

‘Basis of power…’

When Kleio wasn’t convinced, Dione’s tone heated up.

“He’s not my taste, but he’s the type that will have a stronger impression as he gets older. It’s a face one should look forward to.”

“If it’s just his appearance, then isn’t the crown prince fine too? Hmm.”

“Ah, they can’t compare. You can’t like a person who makes it seem that looking up at them would be blasphemy.”

Dione was busy looking around. Then, she lifted a jeweled opera glass as if watching some opera performance.

“The next duel hasn’t even started yet. Is there something there?”

She explained as she watched people through the lens.

“It’s more fun for me than some sword fight. In the afternoon, you can see quite a few things differently than in the morning. There are some aristocrats, some radicals, some members of the parliament even. None have expressed support for any prince yet.”

Looking at the end of Dione’s gaze, there were a few men dressed in relatively modest clothes with trimmed hair and beards, awkwardly gathered in the back row.

“There’s Geston Palach of the People’s Union Party. When I was in school, he was an activist with the flag. He left before the organization became radicalized.”

“It’s surprising to see a former activist in a place like this.”

“I mean, isn’t there a high probability he’s checking on the lottery ticket he bought?”

That meant Arthur. He could sense the complicated calculations behind Dione’s eyes.

“Nothing has started yet.”

“You have to buy a ticket to see what will occur.”

“You already bought a joint one with me. Still, I will be responsible for any damages, so don’t worry.”

“What is that? I have to write a special new contract.”

Dione laughed, patting his arm, but Kleio was serious. The story had to reach the right ending. Otherwise, the world would end. This was the turn of the century. There were people who wanted change, and there were those who didn’t want any. Now that the spark of revolution had faded from inside Albion, there were those who turned their eyes to transforming the system from the inside. For that, they needed a central point.

Arthur was a symbol that deserved such attention.

8) 「Winter」, Alfred Tennyson.