By Zephyria 
When Richard was twenty… I was fourteen. It was right before my Debutante.
I couldn’t believe it. Beneto Loki Sheeran, killed by his son’s mere intimidation?
Wasn’t Beneto still robust and dignified even when I graduated?
No, he was the very picture of an arrogant Emperor when I received the Ranunculus he sent with Ruben in Yulan. He already possessed a perfect Empire that moved and lived according to his will. Or so it seemed…
Gano Paquin continued.
“Richard… apparently didn’t inform the Emperor immediately. Instead, he calmly waited until the scandal could have the greatest impact on the Emperor, expanding his own influence. Targeting the media first was part of that plan.”
“You mean.”
“When the Second Prince was absent and all attention in the capital was focused on me, he demanded the Emperor make a choice. Would he lose all the honor and glory he had accumulated, and even his second wife, or would he return to a time before his birth and live another life well?”
It was a preposterous story, unbelievable even to a dog.
Beneto himself probably didn’t fully believe it either.
But in the end, he let go of the Empire he cherished so dearly. I know too well the agony of choosing death for the sake of one’s honor. In my past life, I too believed it was better to die righteously than to live shamefully.
Of course, I am different now. I don’t want to see the tears of those who would grieve my loss, so I want to live properly, even if it’s shamefully, at least as much as an ordinary human. Given Beneto’s temperament, he might not have kept anyone he grew attached to for long.
“Perhaps, even his final memories…?”
“What I read was the memory of a secret letter Beneto sent to Lucilla. In the midst of it all, Beneto created an opening to help Lucilla escape with the Divine object. The Emperor must have thought Richard wouldn’t undermine his own legitimacy with baseless rumors after his death. And indeed, that’s what happened.”
“…”
“Lucilla didn’t grasp the situation until she received the Divine object and the secret letter from the Emperor’s hands, but she must have soon realized the Emperor was preparing for death. It seems Lucilla is currently in hiding with the heir of Grimsvein.”
“…With that one girl?”
“No, with a knight named Matt Nico, and his parents as well.”
…Matt Nico was Lucilla’s close friend and a knight from a collateral branch of Grimsvein. I had often heard that Matt Nico’s mother was a master of concealment. How many people was she destined to hide in this life?
Everyone who heard the story wrung their hands in distress.
“What is this… not even Countess Daisy.”
“It’s truly a love like war, like war…”
“Love? Is it…?”
Amidst the chatter of Mage Boulder and Hugh Benson, Leon’s bewildered voice chimed in. It was such a preposterous story that even Leon, who usually didn’t involve himself in such conversations, was stunned.
Gano Paquin, having finished his explanation, shifted from his deep recline on the sofa and sprang up like a ball bouncing on the floor. Since everyone was somewhat drained, they merely lifted their heads to look at him. Gano Paquin, with one knee raised as if about to sit backward on the sofa, turned to Spiritus.
“Right, you and the portal!”
Ah.
Yes, there were more than one or two things I needed to ask about. I pressed my temples with my thumb and forefinger, my mind a jumble of complex thoughts, and examined Spiritus. She was still lounging lazily in her usual relaxed posture, and she even covered one ear as she looked at Gano Paquin, who was shouting incessantly.
“Uh, why is that?”
“How would I know that? Did you teach him? That kind of thing?”
“What do you mean, ‘that kind of thing’? Teaching him to write is the same as me teaching magic.”
Yes, the Ninth God wasn’t created, but born.
Unlike other gods who gained self-awareness in their adult forms, the Ninth God, born small, was immature in many ways. Most beings, whether gods, humans, or beasts, tend to feel affection for the young, barring special circumstances.
Therefore, the gods taught the immature Ninth God various things until he grew up.
The God of Records taught him to write, Oasis taught him to swim, and the Sea Turtle taught him to sing. And Spiritus, he said, taught him magic.
“How could I have thought of teaching magic to humans? It’s because someone else had learned it first. He was a god and lived eternally, so he could reach the 10th Circle at a leisurely pace. He couldn’t use draconic language because he wasn’t a dragon.”
“However, I heard Wesley Kiadris is a Grand Sword Master.”
“Him? Did you see him wield a sword?”
“…That.”
Indeed. I had never seen it myself. Maelo Sanson had acknowledged his martial prowess, but there was no record of him sparring with Wesley Kiadris after he became a Grand Sword Master. I seemed to recall hearing that Wesley didn’t visit Maelo often…
What did Maelo Sanson say about Wesley? My memory was hazy. It was too long ago.
Gano Paquin sighed deeply and interjected, “The sword was taught by the sun. Though I heard he had no talent for it.”
“Still, his original body was that of a knight, so if he learned the basics from the sun, he’d be competent. If he’s found almost all the remaining fragments now, he’ll be at least as good as me.”
I recalled the thrilling spar with Spiritus.
In that spar, where we were mindful of each other’s lives and the state of those around us, I had the advantage in speed. But thinking of her pulling out the sword I had embedded with her bare hands sent a shiver down my spine.
I asked again, for confirmation.
“So, beyond that portal, was it always the Ninth God, Wesley Kiadris?”
“Probably? If what you saw was truly a two-way portal, only he can use it. It twists and connects space itself, a feat beyond the mana capacity of humans.”
“Then, if I find a portal later, I should just jump in.”
“Into the heart of enemy territory?”
I tried to answer with the most nonchalant tone possible. I looked at Spiritus with a steady gaze. Her characteristic smile, twisting one corner of her lips, always seemed condescending, as if she looked down on everyone before her.
“You two will come with me, won’t you? Spiritus, you might be able to intervene with the portal.”
“Well… yes. I’m faster at manipulating and weaving spell formulas than he is. But there’s something to consider.”
“…Something to consider?”
“There might be earthquakes, but I’ll tell you then if it’s possible or not. If half the world is destroyed, it won’t just be him making a fuss.”
“…”
It seemed it wasn’t something to be taken lightly.
Still, it was a great relief to have at least an outline of the path to finding Wesley Kiadris. In any case, by finding the black magicians and cornering them until they wanted to flee, we could jump in with them when they opened a portal and meet our enemy.
Or perhaps Wesley was already near those black magicians. Hugh Benson had mentioned that they, whom he couldn’t find even in the Magic territory and couldn’t see with the Eye of the Sun, were hiding in Dunmel Canyon. Now that we could use Spiritus’s portal, that didn’t seem difficult either.
Mage Boulder, who had been quiet until then, slowly got up and approached Spiritus. I saw he was kneeling down. The dragon, still in her relaxed posture, merely rolled her eyes to look at the frail mage.
“Um, can I learn too?”
“You? You can’t. You’re 7th Circle. Your body would break first.”
“But, even if it’s not divine energy, there’s something similar in my body…”
“Being able to withstand primal mana is different from having a body capable of using high-level magic. You know that well, so why are you saying such things?”
“Eeeeng.”
“…What is this?”
“Eeeeeeeng.”
I averted my gaze from the painful scene.
My throat felt dry, so I picked up my teacup again. Just then, a light presence was felt. Only Boulder among us would have noticed the approach from down the corridor. I put down my teacup and glanced at the group.
“He is my younger brother. May I let him in?”
If we had been in the middle of a deep conversation, I wouldn’t have thought to ask permission. Isn’t Michael too young to hear about the dark underbelly of the Empire? I had kept him in the hallway even when healing Asdel, worried he might spread false rumors among the other children.
Since a few in the group nodded their permission, I waited for the knock and opened the door.
“Excuse me. I came to see if your presence might be causing any inconvenience to the esteemed guests.”
Michael, taking two steps inside, seemed to have already received healing magic. The child’s round eyes were calm and gentle. His eyes, which had been red and swollen from crying earlier, had settled down peacefully. His composed expression and his uncomplaining demeanor were strangely unfamiliar.
Hugh Benson, one of our group, answered.
“No, we are resting well thanks to your concern. If Young Master Ernhardt’s brother needs something, shall I bring him now?”
“No, that’s not why I came.”
Indeed, Michael did not look in my direction. Regardless of whether I felt proud of him standing there gazing at the crown of my head, he made eye contact with everyone in the room, as one often does when giving a speech, and then looked back at Hugh Benson.
“There was something I was told to relay, which I couldn’t in my haste.”
“You mean something you couldn’t relay?”
“The Second Prince asked me to tell you this if I met you and your companions before him in the capital. Are you perhaps passing through the capital?”
…Ruben?