Chapter 124

“N-no, I’d be fine. I—I think I could…defeat you before…that happened…” Monica pointed at a nearby tree and used unchanted magecraft. A spear of ice rammed into the middle of its hefty trunk like a wedge, carving into the bark. The black cat opened his golden eyes wide. Monica fidgeted with her fingers some more. “Your black flames take time to use,” she said. “So…I think I could, um, shoot you between the eyes before you managed to, uh, get them out.” It wasn’t a threat. For Monica, it was just the truth. The black cat cocked his little head, mystified. “Wait. Then why’d you save me?” “Huh? Ummm… Because you looked…like you were in pain.” “Anyone ever tell you you’re a real weirdo?” “Aww…” Monica knew she didn’t fit in with other people. But to have a dragon point that out to her was too much. She fell silent, unsure of how to feel. The black cat stared up at Monica with his golden eyes. “I see,” he said. “You’re not scared of black dragons, and you even climbed inside my mouth! But you’re scared of humans… Yeah, you’re weird, all right. And you know what? I like weird people. You keep things interesting.” “Oh, um, okay…” “That settles it. I’m gonna let you have me as a pet.” Monica was silent for a few moments. Once she’d processed the black cat’s declaration, she muttered an awkward “Huh?” “You want me to get off this mountain, right?” the cat continued, as if this was all very logical. “Um, yes.” “But I don’t have anywhere else to go. Oh, woe is me! Humans are driving me from my home for stupid human reasons!” “I guess you, um, have a point.” “Since you’re the one driving me out, you’ve gotta take responsibility. Make me your pet!” Monica got the feeling he was trying to coax her into agreeing. But she was weak-willed and had a hard time voicing firm objections at times like these. As she stammered and said more ummms and wells, the black cat jumped onto her shoulder and poked her cheek with his paw. “Dragons are absolutely obedient to anyone stronger than them. And you’re stronger than me, so I’ll make you my master. You should be honored!” I wonder if “absolute obedience” means the same thing to dragons as it does to humans, she thought as he continued to squish her cheek with his paw. As Nero finished his explanation, Felix put on a gentle smile. Despite his expression, however, it was clear that he was very confused. “I heard the Black Dragon of Worgan filled the air with eerie howls night after night…” “Yeah. ’Cause my throat hurt.” “Then you weren’t calling out to your pterodragon followers and telling them to attack?” “Nah, it was more like, Aaagh! This hurts so freakin’ bad! Ever since then, I always take the bones out of birds before I eat them.” Monica wanted to hide in shame. The Silent Witch hadn’t exterminated the Black Dragon of Worgan—far from it. She’d only removed a bone stuck in its throat. Felix viewed the Silent Witch as a hero. He must have been so disappointed in her. Monica used her feather pen to write a few more words. “Will you report me?” “No.” There was no hesitation in Felix’s response. “Nobody else could have saved a dragon and made it their familiar. I have no less respect for you now that I know the truth. It’s just… How to put it? I suppose I have a different impression of dragons,” he said with difficulty. “You think way more highly of ’em now, right?” said Nero smugly. How can you be so confident? thought Monica. Felix was probably thinking the same thing. It was much more likely he’d begun to see dragons as “surprisingly silly.” With a wry grin, Felix turned to Nero and asked, “May I assume you harbor no malice toward humans?” “Yep. I barely care about humans to begin with!” Even after being driven from his mountain home, Nero was completely unfazed. He didn’t seem the type to hold grudges. Of course, despite his claim that he didn’t care about humans, he had recently taken a real interest in human culture and art—mainly adventure and detective novels. “Can you use your black flames even in human form?” Felix was referring to the powerful flame breath that had made black dragons so infamous. No flames were stronger; they could incinerate cursecraft and defensive barriers alike. A few centuries ago, a select few mages had become able to use those black flames themselves, but these days the art had died out, and its use was forbidden. In fact, it was one of the greatest taboos for mages, right up there with resurrecting the dead and controlling the weather. If Nero was able to use his black flames in human form, not even Felix would be able to turn a blind eye. But Nero quickly shook his head and denied it. “Nah. Gotta be in my original form for that. If I could bust that stuff out in human form, I would have been doing it in secret for ages now.” “…I suppose that’s true.” Nero wasn’t lying. In human form, his physical abilities were impressive, but he couldn’t fly or breathe black flames. Apparently convinced, Felix flashed a smile at the uneasy Monica. “No need to worry, my lady. My lips are sealed. This will be our little secret.” “Thank you,” she wrote. Monica sighed in relief. She’d accomplished her first objective—getting Felix to stay quiet about Nero’s identity. But she couldn’t let the conversation end there. She had another goal. I want to know what he’s hiding. She moved her pen swiftly, meaning to take over the role of questioner. “I have something I’d like to ask as well.” “…About the night I confronted the cursed dragon?” Monica nodded. She intended to ask why he’d slipped out of the estate that night, but before she could put words to paper, Felix started to explain. “That night I felt awfully uneasy. I was worried that maybe a single gunshot to the brow hadn’t actually killed the legendary cursed dragon… I became so concerned that I slipped away to get another look at its remains. When I reached them, the dragon began to move, so I confronted it. I’m truly sorry for going off on my own and causing you so much trouble.” Felix’s expression was extremely apologetic. He probably did feel guilty about the curse infecting Monica. …But he was hiding something. “Why didn’t you take an escort?” “Because if I had told someone about my fears and asked them to come with me, they would have thought me a coward. Everything was to preserve my own honor and pride. Again, I’m very sorry.” He’s lying, Monica realized intuitively. But she didn’t have enough cards in her hand to make that accusation. She thought back to the night in question—to Felix’s behavior. He’d said something. “My lady! It’s cursecraft. There should be a shamanic tool somewhere in its body!” That’s it, thought Monica, her feather pen moving again. “How could you say for sure that the curse affecting the dragon was cursecraft?” Even Monica, one of the Seven Sages, couldn’t tell the difference between a naturally occurring curse and a man-made one. How had Felix known that it was cursecraft? The prince didn’t seem particularly ruffled. Instead, his expression was uncertain. “Well, I wasn’t sure, actually. But I once saw a shaman using cursecraft on a criminal… And I thought it seemed similar.” Felix had probably considered what Monica would ask him and prepared answers in advance. Every time she pressed him on something, he slipped away. Is there anything else I can use? Monica was bad at negotiating, but she tried hard to think of something she could do to gain a foothold. However, before she could make her next move, Felix casually embarked on a new thread. “By the way, Lady Everett.” Immediately, Monica looked up and met his gaze. His beautiful eyes, blue with just a drop of green, were narrowed into a smile. “Would you happen to have ties to Serendia Academy?” he asked. “…!” She was so startled that her shoulders jerked. Felix noticed, and his smile deepened. It was as if he already had his answer. …Oh no! As Monica began to panic, she could hear the Barrier Mage Louis Miller laughing at her in her memories. It was back when he and the Artillery Mage had dragged her into that card game. “My fellow Sage. You might want to fix that habit of jumping out of your skin whenever something unsettles you.” He’d been right. And he’d said something else, too: that the game started before one even got to the table. Unlike Monica, who had come to this negotiation unprepared, Felix had thought things through beforehand. He had strategies for how to avoid Monica’s questions while still getting the information he wanted out of her. “Lady Everett, you once stopped Cyril—one of our students—when he lost control due to mana poisoning, didn’t you?” That’s right, she thought. Nero had run into Felix that night. She gulped behind her veil, then moved her hand—which threatened to tremble—and wrote a few more words. “I just happened to be passing through.” “I see.” Felix immediately dropped that line of questioning. She’d thought he would press her for more information, so this came as something of a shock. Instead, he bowed politely. “Please allow me to thank you for that. You saved the student council’s secretary.” …What? Monica was silent, but she froze for a moment. Felix could sense her confusion. …Oops! She paled, flustered. Still smiling, the prince continued. “Oh, my apologies. He’s not the secretary, actually. He’s the vice president.” Every student at Serendia Academy knew that Cyril Ashley was the student council’s vice president. But people on the outside—especially the Silent Witch, who had little social interaction—would have no idea. It would be strange if they did. And yet Monica had reacted to the mistake. He knows… He knows the Silent Witch is at Serendia Academy! The prince couldn’t quite conceal the hint of joy in his blue eyes as he gazed at her. “Oh, but you’re still recovering. I shouldn’t keep you. I’ll be taking my leave, then… Please take care of your left hand, my lady.” With a considerate smile, Felix rose. But no matter how gentle or beautiful his expression, Monica could only quiver in fear. She hadn’t gotten Felix to tell her any of his secrets, and yet he’d gotten all the information he’d wanted from her. The prince had won this negotiation, and Monica had lost. After Felix left the room, Monica slowly slid off the couch. “Waaahhh! I messed everything up… Stupid, stupid, stupid…” Nero, who was standing behind the couch with his arms folded, hadn’t quite grasped the situation. “Mind explaining?” he said. “He knows! He figured out that the Silent Witch is at Serendia Academy!” “Wh-what?!” If she’d known this would happen, she wouldn’t have bothered trying to awkwardly prod the prince for information. She should have just gotten him to keep quiet about Nero’s identity and left it at that. Now she was filled with regret. Monica could barely talk properly in the first place. How was she supposed to match a skilled diplomat like Felix? She began to sob. “I wanted to learn his secrets, but instead he learned one of mine!” Once winter break was over, Felix would surely begin searching for the Silent Witch at the academy. Her mission wasn’t supposed to end for another six months. What was she supposed to do now? “I wanted to ask how he knew it was cursecraft affecting the dragon, and why he snuck out by himself that night… Aww…” Seeing Monica looking down, Nero said casually, “I mean, the guy’s got a contracted spirit with him. He probably knows a lot. And if he’s got a spirit on his side, he wouldn’t need an escort.” “…Huh?” Monica didn’t understand what Nero was saying. She slowly rose from the bed and looked up at him. “The prince? He has a contracted spirit?” “Yeah, like I said. That white lizard you see next to him sometimes. I’m pretty sure that’s a high water spirit.” “Wait, wait, wait…” This was the first Monica was hearing about Felix having a contracted spirit, though she did vaguely remember Nero saying something about a lizard. I think he said the prince tried to use a lizard to figure out his secrets…but then our conversation got interrupted. Still, that didn’t make any sense. How could Felix have formed a contract with a high water spirit? Contracts with high spirits required several things: the spirit’s consent, a gem to serve as the contract stone, the knowledge of a high mage, and great mana capacity. Fewer than ten mages in the kingdom were contracted to a high spirit. And even if Felix did meet all those conditions, there was another thing stopping him from forging a contract with a high water spirit. “Ummm, Nero, humans are born with an affinity for one specific element… You can’t make a contract with a spirit of a different element. The same goes for spirit king summonings.” For example, Monica’s strength was wind. She could summon the King of the Wind Spirits but not the other spirit kings. “Then the prince’s must be water, right?” said Nero. “No, I think his element is actually…earth.” Nero frowned dubiously. “But you’ve never seen the prince use magecraft before. How do you know?” “His name—his middle name. It’s Arc, right?” In the Kingdom of Ridill, there was a custom of working the name of the spirit king matching a baby’s elemental affinity into the child’s middle name. It was like a prayer for the spirit king’s protection. One example close at hand was that of Neil, the student council general affairs officer. His full name was Neil Clay Maywood. His middle name, Clay, was derived from Archraedo, the King of the Earth Spirits. “Felix’s middle name, Arc, comes from Archraedo. So I think his affinity is earth. He shouldn’t be able to form a contract with a high water spirit…” “Yeah, I’m not really following you. But can’t your element change as you grow?” “People generally inherit it from one of their parents, and according to research on the subject, it never changes.” Monica’s father’s research backed up the claim that genetic factors were involved in a person’s magical abilities. The book Felix had bought her at Porter Used Books touched on this idea as well. “Still don’t get it,” said Nero. “Is that just, like, how it works?” “A fire dragon can’t suddenly turn into a water dragon overnight, can it?” “Oh, yeah. I guess you’re right.” He nodded, then put a hand to his chin in thought. “Then maybe his middle name is just a coincidence and not related to his element or whatever.” “I somehow doubt that royalty would give their child a middle name that had nothing to do with their element…” “But hey, it could happen, right?” It was so simple for Nero—he didn’t care much about names to begin with. But to Monica, something definitely felt off. What if this has something to do with why he can’t use magecraft in front of others? Ever since the cursed dragon incident, Monica’s questions and doubts about the second prince had slowly begun to expand and grow. His strange attitude toward the dragon. The high spirit he wouldn’t tell anyone about. His fixation on the throne. But why should she expose his secrets for the mere sake of her curiosity? She was only meant to guard him—none of these things were any of her business. She shouldn’t pry into his affairs just because she wanted to know. …Or at least, that was how she felt at the time. Ahhh, it was just as I thought! Felix left the Silent Witch’s room feeling like he wanted to dance. His heart was pounding, and he was shaking with glee. Ever since he found out that a Spiralflame—a magical item used for assassination—had been planted at the school before the festival, he’d had hope. But when he saw how ruffled the Silent Witch had been just now, he became sure of it. Felix’s beloved Silent Witch was at Serendia Academy. …I must meet her. I want to see her face, if I can. I want to hear her voice. A smile threatened to form on Felix’s lips, but he resisted it and headed for his quarters. On the way there, he spotted a man sitting on the floor, knees to his chest, and stopped. The man held a golden staff and wore an extravagant robe embroidered with gold thread. And from his hood, Felix could see tufts of purple hair sticking out—a very unusual color. It was Ray Albright of the Seven Sages—the third Abyss Shaman. What was he doing here in the hallway? Did he feel unwell? “…Ahhh, I want to be loved, I want to be loved, I want to be loved…” Felix had witnessed the shaman begging various maidservants at the royal castle for affection on several different occasions. Oh, it’s just the usual, he thought. “Excuse me,” he said. “You must be Lord Albright, the Abyss Shaman, yes? Are you feeling unwell?” Ray slowly looked up and set his gaze on Felix. Then a moment later, he covered his eyes. “Your royal aura is destroying my eyesight…” Felix decided he should ignore about 90 percent of what the man said. He had no intention of accusing him of rudeness. After all, the king had known what sort of personality he had when he’d made him a Sage. “Lord Albright, your arrival has truly saved us. I feel very reassured to have a curse expert around… And because you are such an expert, there is something I wish to ask of you.” At this, Ray moved his hands slightly and looked up at Felix through the gaps in his fingers. “Is it possible to control the mind of a creature with cursecraft?” asked Felix. “…That isn’t what it’s meant for.” Ray slowly stood up. From beneath his unkempt bangs, his eyes—pink, like gemstones—stared at Felix with scorn. “Cursecraft isn’t meant for manipulating others. It’s for making them suffer. If you want to control people, that’s what mental interference magecraft is for.” “…A reasonable assertion.” “If someone is trying to use cursecraft to control living creatures, they are utterly unfit to be called a shaman. They’re nothing but trash.” From a layman’s perspective, controlling someone and causing them to suffer were equally awful things to do. But shamans seemed to have different ideas on the matter. So this is the kind of power being used to make me king… Duke Clockford’s path for Felix Arc Ridill was soaked in blood and lined with sacrifices. And Felix no longer had the option of turning back. Not anymore. “Thank you for your wise words, Lord Albright. I will take them to heart.” With that, Felix turned his back to Ray. The flames of obsession flickered in his eyes as he stared ahead. There was a wish he wanted to grant. It didn’t matter what he had to sacrifice, what he had to give up, or what was taken from him. …Wait for me. It won’t be long now. On a whim, he glanced out the window. It was still afternoon, and the stars were not yet visible in the winter sky. But even so, Felix could imagine it—that starry sky so loved by his friend, in which the constellations of heroes twinkled. I will make sure your name goes down in history…Arc.