By Zephyria 
Hugo rubbed his lips, lost in complex thoughts.
‘The Servan Clan had their hands in this too?’
Based on the current circumstances, it was natural to assume that they had erased the records to register Leonardo as a member of their family. However, looking deeper, while the Servan Clan lacked nothing financially, they weren’t particularly powerful in terms of authority. They didn’t possess a political heavyweight capable of arbitrarily deleting immigration records, nor were they known for having an extensive network of connections.
In the first place, if they had such power, the end of the Servan Company Commander would not have been so tragic.
Then who on earth had erased Leonardo Blaine’s records? Or rather, was it correct to assume they were erased at all?
Even assuming it was a simple omission from a different perspective, there were many points that didn’t make sense.
‘He has a face you could never forget once you’ve seen it; how could it be omitted… No, I’m not the one to be saying that.’
Suddenly recalling his own time-limited task, Hugo frowned. Even he couldn’t remember the past when he had met him.
Hearing his superior’s soft sigh, Flynn spoke again.
—Division Commander?
Falling back into the labyrinth of his thoughts, Hugo decided to seek another way. If he abandoned official routes, there were plenty of ways to peer into the past.
Hiding the bleakness of a truth that felt just out of reach, he spoke to Flynn.
“Flynn, you may return now. Good work. It wasn’t entirely without gain.”
—What… gain?
“That the immigration office is hiding something from us. And that Leonardo has been exposed to the sight of those in power since he was quite young.”
—Then are you certain the records were erased? By those powerful people?
“Not certain. Perhaps they were never recorded from the start.”
As he spoke, Hugo looked up and glanced behind the back of the sofa. There was no one else in the Legion Commander’s office but himself.
“Like me.”
Gabe had long since returned to the aides-de-camp’s office connected by the side door. Nevertheless, whenever he brought up such topics, he found himself instinctively checking for any presence. Wary even of the streaks of light filtering through the curtains, Hugo lowered his voice further.
“The Marshal might know something. He receives updates from immigration periodically.”
—Ah, that’s true! Even now, he occasionally takes the fleet out toward the Firmaze waters, right? He rescues people from Bermuda and helps them with the entry procedures.
“Yes. I’ll ask him about that separately later, and we’ll discuss the details once you return. The meeting hasn’t finished yet.”
—Ah, my apologies. Please go back in. I will return quickly as well.
“Right.”
The conversation with Flynn ended there. The light on the Magic Tool sensor went out, and Hugo slowly leaned his head against the back of the sofa. His blue eyes gazed up at the dim ceiling.
A golden streak of light crossed the center of the ceiling, winding its way along the surface of the antique decorations. Much like ‘his’ life.
“…Just what kind of life has he lived?”
Whenever he tried to find out about Leonardo, a strange sense of dissonance lingered and grew. Today, he felt as though he had taken another step closer to that dissonance. He feared that if he were sucked into the center of it, he might face a truth he couldn’t handle.
The times he was mature beyond his years, the times he was as sensitive as shattered glass, and the times he smiled brightly like a pure child. Every time he discovered a different side of him, Hugo suspected that Leonardo had gone through many things he knew nothing about. However, as he captured the damp, gloomy circumstances surrounding Leonardo one by one, the reality of not being able to keep him right before his eyes felt suffocating.
What if he had been captured by some sinister force and was in danger somewhere beyond his sight…?
“…….”
Suddenly, Hugo’s eyelids twitched. The muscles around his eyes and forehead, which had been smooth, gradually stiffened. It was because the cases he had been seriously digging into in the small conference room just moments ago flashed through his mind.
There was no change in his expression, but the pupils in his blue eyes contracted minutely.
“Bermuda.”
Hugo muttered that word of love and hate as he straightened his upper body. His gaze naturally drifted to one wall, tracing the afterimage of the moment they had tried to extract Leonardo’s Magic Power in the Council’s ward.
The image of him lying on the bed, pale-faced and convulsing, flickered in his mind.
“Magic Power.”
Then, Meterion, who had hovered around Leonardo from the peninsula expedition until relatively recently.
“Noble Faction.”
The single common denominator linking the two.
“Etaid.”
Finally, its most powerful use came to mind.
“Amplification.”
That mineral, said to have an amplification effect, was what Leonardo had been searching for since the entrance of the peninsula. At the time, after hearing Flynn say the reason for searching was something stuck in his throat, Hugo had guessed the mineral’s use, but he couldn’t grasp anything other than the amplification of Magic Power.
But if Leonardo had been used by the Noble Faction, or if he shared their goals…
Around then, Hugo’s gaze instinctively shifted to the watch on his wrist. The second and minute hands moved regularly, tracing their orbits with a rhythmic tick-tock. Though not a loud sound, it pressed urgently against his eardrums as if scratching them.
‘Surely not.’
It was all just a hypothesis.
However, Hugo immediately stood up and strode toward his desk.
He flung open the top right drawer. Inside, frequently used pens, seals, and memo pads—items used during work—were neatly organized. And amidst them, two objects that didn’t fit were mixed in.
One was a photograph of Leonardo standing in the half-destroyed Northern Grand Plaza, and the other was the only Communication Magic Tool that connected him to the boy.
Hugo stared at the melancholy Gold Eyes in the photo and snatched up the Magic Tool. The first emotion to settle in his fingertips was, ironically, concern; the second was longing, and the third was doubt. Like a night plagued by a headache, he almost pressed the button immediately, but for some reason, his finger lacked the strength to do so, and he hesitated. It was because the flooding thoughts were questioning him.
If the preceding hypotheses were all true, what should he do then?
To the man who was his benefactor, yet might become the destroyer of order,
‘Can I remain fair and just until the end?’
‘The name of the Empire will be “Laina Rogia”.’
A sanctuary where the fresh light of nature poured in. Or rather, a warm palace that looked like a sanctuary. Light filtering through the glass ceiling brilliantly illuminated the marble floor covered in carpets. The interior was radiantly bright. This was because the owners of the palace had loved the sun for generations.
There, blue eyes narrowed in disapproval while staring at a man who was more like the sun than the sun itself.
‘Is that the best you can do?’
‘Ah, why? Do you have a better idea?’
‘I thought you had some grand ambition when you said you were founding an empire. In times like this, you should either create an entirely new national name, or at least make it “Rogia Laina”. Since you are the one asking me for annexation.’
Between the grand, snow-white pillars sat an indoor garden that uniquely looked as if the outdoor landscaping had been moved inside. In the garden, hydrangeas and baby’s breath, looking as if blue powder had been scattered over them, bloomed profusely among the neat greenery. In the center, two young men faced each other across a stone table, sketching out the future. Though it seemed their disagreement was far from being resolved.
‘Hmm, that’s a fair point. But “Laina Rogia” just rolls off the tongue better.’
‘You’ve already made up your mind, so what is the intent behind asking me? Does my opinion even matter?’
‘Of course. You are a precious person who might become the Emperor; you must participate in the great task of naming the empire.’
The man with Gold Eyes spoke and smiled as brightly as the penetrating natural light. On the parchment held in his two hands, “Laina Rogia” written in the ancient language shimmered. The midday sunlight broke into fine pieces over the national name and the blonde hair, scattering as if solely to make one person shine.
The blue eyes couldn’t pull away for a while, but then the man turned his head away with a cold face.
‘At this point, no one knows whether the nations will be integrated or not. So don’t assume that I am the Emperor. I have no desire to stay as a hostage in the land of Laina, get caught up in some cunning scheme, and return to my homeland as a corpse.’
The Gold Eyes, which had been focused, flickered toward him upon hearing the stern voice. A sharp edge emanated from his straight profile. It suited his clean and firm impression, but it wasn’t welcome.
A sigh escaped from red lips.
‘With me here, who would dare harm you? And as for the integration, we can decide that right here, right now. If possible, a national name starting with Laina, ruled by an Emperor from Rogia, would be a beautiful picture.’
‘I think it would be fine as long as the national name isn’t Laina Rogia.’
‘…How stubborn. How did I end up with someone like this….’
The golden eyes crinkled in dissatisfaction.
However, the face soon relaxed into a gentle arc, and he then murmured leisurely, as if he knew everything.
‘If you disliked it that much, you should have killed me back then.’
At the answer, the shadows in the blue eyes deepened. The gaze, clear as if the sky were cast within it, rolled sideways bleakly.
Within it, the blazing midday sun reflected. The attractively curved golden eyes were so dazzling that the man unconsciously frowned deeply. He responded with a cold gaze, fearing that he might come to agree with the foolishness of the owners of this palace—whom he had regarded as enemies his whole life—who tried to imprison the unreachable sun by their side.
‘The one who kept me alive when I was dying… was you.’