Koch gritted his teeth.
He could no longer hide it.
But revealing everything meant risking the Second Prince being branded a traitor—a serious situation.


“...I will tell you everything. Only...”
“Is there still something holding you back?”
“...That magical artifact Wingester created... it was something his grandfather researched long ago.”
“Huh. So he continued his grandfather's research. That's a commendable story.”


Koch revealed a truth he had never wanted to tell the prince, who seemed to be enjoying himself.


“…That magic tool was an object His Majesty the current King deemed sacrilegious and had ‘disposed of’ along with his grandfather.”
“…….”


Only then did Griphellos’s expression turn grave.
He never imagined the magic tool he’d been about to touch was a forbidden item that had fallen out of favor with His Majesty and been disposed of.


“Wait a moment. Then how did Wingester inherit that research?”
“...I don't know that either.”


He had a vague idea, but unless he was certain, there was no need to bring it up.


“It is strange indeed. If true, it means I've stepped on a massive landmine...”


Griphellos fell into deep thought.
He had no intention of abandoning that magic tool.
It was far too useful to give up.


That magical artifact that allowed Wingester, with his low magical aptitude, to fight on equal footing with the descendants of the Seiz family, combat mages of the highest caliber.


With just that in hand, he could make his plans a reality.


“...I must consult the records of the Arcane Veil after all.”
“Your Highness?!”
“If I suddenly bring up that magical artifact, I'll surely be suspected.”
“What do you mean...?”
“By consulting the records of the Arcane Veil, I will create a ‘precedent’.”
“......!”


Koh immediately grasped the meaning behind Prince Griphellos's words.


By accessing the records of the Arcane Veil, he would create the ‘cause’ of having learned about that magical artifact, thereby establishing the conditions to speak to the king.


“Are you sure this is wise?! If anything goes wrong…!”
“I know. But I believe it's worth the risk to obtain it. That magic tool….”
“Why are you so fixated on it….”


Before Koch's pleading, Griphellos flashed a triumphant smile.


“The creator, how is Wingester’s aptitude for magic?”
“……!”
“Right. Mass-producing and distributing that magic tool… would turn everyone in the kingdom with low magical aptitude into warriors.”
“Th-that’s…”


Above all, the troops trained that way would naturally become his own forces, Griphellos’s own army.
It would be the ultimate trump card to instantly overturn the feeling of always being overshadowed by his brother due to his lower magical aptitude.


“Anyway, thank you for the information, Professor Koch.”
“Ah, not at all...”
“Then you may leave. I must immediately attend to His Majesty.”
“……!”


Several hours later.
Griphellos knelt on one knee at the center of the audience chamber before His Majesty.


“I wondered what could be so urgent that you requested an audience so suddenly... What is your purpose in bringing up such a story?


The current king was one of the world’s few 8th Circle Masters, a formidable figure who had strengthened his royal authority through an iron-fisted rule that valued tradition.


Though his prestige had been tarnished by the recent defeat in the local conflict with the Maritime Kingdom, his presence as monarch remained formidable.


“Recently, while reviewing the Academy's annual graduation thesis collection to discover young talent, I learned of individuals whose whereabouts are unknown or who vanished along with their research.”
“......”
" While investigating them, I thought perhaps records might remain within the Arcane Veil...“


Thud.


A middle-aged mage among the ministers seated to the left struck the floor with his staff, voicing objection.


”Your Majesty! This cannot be! The Arcane Veil is an organization directly under the King's command alone! Even His Royal Highness the Prince violates the principle!"


Griphellos gritted his teeth inwardly.
He was one of the high-ranking officials who strongly supported Henkepallos, the First Prince and his elder brother.


“Enough. The Prince is speaking.”
“Hah! My apologies.”


Fortunately, the King's intervention forced him to back down, but he could feel the King's piercing gaze fixed on Griphellos, clearly displeased.
Griphellos, however, paid no heed and continued his speech.


“Therefore, by examining the records of the Arcane Veil, if there are any researchers whose crimes were not severe and who could contribute to the kingdom, I wish to give them an opportunity to redeem their disgrace.”
“……!”


The expressions of the high officials from the First Prince's faction listening nearby instantly twisted.


Griphellos's current statement was an act directly contradicting the king's decision—attempting to bring back and utilize those whom the king had branded as disrespectful and punished.


“How dare such disrespectful words!”


The representative of the First Prince faction, that dignitary, could not contain himself and raised his voice.
But the King, with a cold, steely demeanor, slammed his fist down on the armrest of the throne.


“Enough!”
“……!”


The dignitaries, unable to press further under the King's thunderous rebuke, bowed their heads and crouched low.


“Griphellos.”


The king's voice carried a cold, settled fury.
This was the critical moment.


The slightest slip of the tongue could make Griphellos a traitor.
Griphellos swallowed hard, desperately selecting his words.


“...Yes. Father.”
“Do you understand the full meaning of what you just said?”
“...Yes. I understand perfectly, Father.”


The slightly furrowed expression on the king's face eased just a little.
Unlike the First Prince, who excelled solely as a mage, the Second Prince, while perhaps lacking somewhat as a mage, surpassed his elder brother in nearly every other aspect.

Therefore, when he declared his intention to compete with his elder brother for the position of Crown Prince, the King readily accepted it.


Though he valued tradition, he had come to believe that determining the Crown Prince solely based on magical aptitude might not be ideal for the kingdom's future.


“...Then you are confident you can persuade me?”
“...Yes.”
“...Go ahead.”


The expressions of the First Prince's faction grew anxious.


Here we go again.
Time and again, the treacherous Second Prince had persuaded the king, silencing the First Prince's faction's opinions.


It would have been better if he had failed, but infuriatingly, the Second Prince's policies were all sailing smoothly.
It was obvious this would happen again.


“I believe these matters were indeed disposed of after rigorous examination based on tradition... but I also believe they too devoted themselves to such research for the sake of the kingdom.”
“......”
“...Just as people need tolerance, tradition too requires such generosity.”


The king began to ponder, stroking his chin at the prince's plausible words.
The ministers listened, inwardly gnashing their teeth, searching desperately for any flaw to seize upon.


“Then, even if they hold values contrasting with tradition, if we can rid them of the stigma of heresy and guide them to loyalty to the kingdom, they could surely become a future strength for the kingdom.”
“...Is that what you wish to do?”
“Yes. I intend to incorporate their research into the Royal Magitech Research Institute, which His Majesty has just granted permission for.”


The king slowly began to grasp why this bold second prince had suddenly proposed building a Magitech research institute.


Clearly, since he couldn't match his elder brother as a mage, he intended to gather those with low magical aptitude and use the new field of Magitech to boost his own standing.


It was puzzling that he, who rarely entertained such bold and risky ideas, had made such a significant move this time.
Was he aiming for something?

A deep, amused smile spread across the king's lips.


“...Very well. I grant permission.”
“......! Your Majesty! I am deeply honored!”
“But!”
“......?!”


Griphellos hurriedly bowed low at the king's firm voice, which added a condition.


“…The Magitech Research Institute must undergo regular inspections by the Arcane Veil.”
“……!”
“Under that condition, I can grant permission. What do you say?”


It meant monitoring through the Arcane Veil to ensure the research wasn't misused.
As a prince, there was nothing wrong with that.


“I am deeply honored!”
“…Very well. I will issue a separate order to the Arcane Veil.”


Griphellos' fist, clenched as he exited the audience chamber, was drenched in a clammy, cold sweat.
This crisis had passed.
From now on, he could steer matters as he wished.


“…Your Highness.”


Senior officials of the First Prince’s faction, who had just exited the audience chamber, called out to him.
When he turned, they wore blatantly displeased expressions.


“This is blatant tyranny. You must know that.”
“That is precisely why I sought His Majesty's permission.”
“…….”


They stared at each other with dry eyes, then promptly turned away.


“...I wonder what Henkepallos would say if he heard of this.”
“......”


He paid no heed to the officials' words.
Even if it wasn't them, his brother would find out eventually.


His brother's support base was that solid, as his ascension to the 8th Circle after their father was all but certain.
He knew full well there were supporters for his brother within the Arcane Veil as well.
The prince, who had gone directly to the Arcane Veil, was guided by an officer to the archives.


“Is this the place?”


Towering bookshelves lined the room, densely packed with moldy-smelling books.


“This way.”


Following the officer's lead, he arrived before a bookshelf in the left corner.


“You need to check the items on this shelf.”
“What's on the other shelves?”


The official stepped in front of the prince, who had absentmindedly glanced at the adjacent bookshelves.


“What's this?”
“...His Majesty ordered that you may only view materials related to Magitech.”


So that's how it is.
His father truly was no pushover of a king.
Meaning he mustn't touch anything unrelated to Magitech.


“If His Majesty said so...”
“Thank you for your understanding.”


Thus, under the officer's suspicious glare, he began flipping through the books.


Surprisingly, many were fascinating. As the prince briefly skimmed each one, the officer watched him suspiciously.


“...Have you seen these records before?”
“Of course. That is my job.”
“Then have you ever thought the contents within were a waste?”
“......”


The official slowly shook his head at the prince's question.


“That is not our concern.”
“...I see.”


The Arcane Veil. A professional answer.
He simply wasn't granted the authority to think about it.
His sole duty was to record and manage the gathered intelligence.
The prince began poring over the records once more.


Certainly, definitely, somewhere within these pages lay the name he sought.


-To be continued-

Just as he was about to press further on the matter, the conversation was interrupted when the waiter brought out a lavish spread filling the table.


Wingester wanted to keep talking without even picking up his cutlery, but the prince paid no mind and began eating first.


“...What? Since this table was prepared for you, eat your fill.”
“Uh... Ah... Yes. I'm deeply honored.”


Wingester, belatedly realizing he had been rude to royalty, finally focused on his meal.


Shortly after the meal ended, the prince dismissed the guard mages surrounding them with a wave of his hand.


Since he'd said it was a serious matter, it was likely not something they should hear.


“Right then, shall we get down to business?”
“......”
“No need to look at me like that. It's really not such a terrible story.”


Second Prince Griphellos, observing his gaze, realized that his usual sly, evasive tactics wouldn't win him any favor here.


He knew well that with such an upright young man, an honest, direct approach was most effective.


“I'll try to keep it as simple as possible so you can understand...”
“......?”
“...If you haven't considered your future path, would you consider joining my service?”
“...?!”


Wingester flinched at the utterly unexpected statement.


He had clearly expected to be reprimanded about the sealed magic tool, yet surprisingly, the other expressed a desire to take him under his wing.


“That... is an honor, but...”
“Right. You must be wondering why?”


His gaze shifted again, landing on the Barrett Staff protruding slightly from behind Wingester's back.
Wingester felt a chill run down his spine once more and swallowed hard.


“That staff of yours... is it? That magical artifact was quite intriguing. Would you like to study it properly under my command?”
“......!”


Did he know?
This magical artifact, the Barrett Staff, was firmly sealed by someone and had been abandoned for decades in the Academy's old storeroom. It was his grandfather's legacy.


“That is...”
“Is there something troubling you?”


Should he be honest with him? Or should he just refuse outright?
Either way was difficult.


The First Prince might be one thing, but the Prince Griphellos before him was no pushover.
Once something caught his eye, he wouldn't let it go easily.


“Hmm... Seems you find it difficult to answer?”
“...I'm sorry. I'm not sure if I should even speak about it...”


Seeing Wingester bow his head, cold sweat beading on his forehead, the prince instinctively sensed there was something seriously wrong with that magic tool.


Not a flaw in the artifact itself, but a ‘political’ problem entangled within it.


That meant Wingester, a mere academy graduate, was caught in a dilemma where speaking up was problematic, and staying silent was problematic too.


If Griphellos himself could resolve that problem, he could secure this talented young man entirely for himself.


“I see. Since this promising young talent seems to have a difficult problem, I'll look into it with all my might.”
“Th-that is...!”


That's Prince Griphellos for you.
Seeming to have grasped the very point that troubled Wingester, he rose abruptly from his seat with a look of conviction.


Then, pointing a finger at Wingester, he declared.


“I don't care for half-measures. So I want to make this clear right now.”
“……!”
“If I solve whatever problem you have with that magic tool, you'll join my service. How about it?”
“Guh...!”


Wingester bit his lip, deep in thought.
Refusing would surely bring some form of retaliation from him.
But accepting meant following Prince Griphellos, which was a hesitant prospect.


Wingester was content with modest dreams: commercializing the Barret Staff to earn money and provide his parents with a comfortable life.


Even if he aspired further, it only went as far as wanting to improve the Barret Staff's performance to make it more useful, perhaps venturing out as a mercenary or adventurer.


To him, the prince's proposal was a choice that would drag him into the future power struggles of the royal family, far removed from his own dreams.


The current king had five children, and the only two vying for the position of next crown prince were Prince Griphellos before him and the first prince, Prince Henkepallos.


“What are you agonizing over?”
“I... am not suited for politics...”
“I see... Following me seems to entangle you in politics, making you uneasy, I suppose?”


Griphellos smiled inwardly with satisfaction.
The more he observed this young man, Wingester, the more he saw the very figure he had desired.


He possessed overflowing talent: crafting a staff resembling the infamous gun that had brought the enemy nation notoriety, and perhaps even succeeding in developing a lightweight mana concentrator that could profoundly influence the kingdom's future mages.


Yet despite such talent, he possessed an upright character, pursuing only the simple dreams of an ordinary citizen, devoid of ambition or lust for power.


Griphellos slowly approached Wingester and placed a hand on his shoulder.


“I'm not saying I don't understand your predicament. I'm currently competing with my brother for the position of Crown Prince.”
“......”


The prince pulled a document bearing the king's seal from his robes and presented it before Wingester.


“What is this…?”


It was the king's authorization for establishing a Magitech research institute directly under Griphellos.


“I don't possess the same extraordinary talent as my brother, the Grand Mage. In some ways, my situation resembles that of citizens like you… those lacking aptitude.”
“…….”


Griphellos continued the conversation, trying to form a sense of kinship by emphasizing their similar circumstances.


“So, while I was studying administration and politics, I learned about Magitech a few years ago.”
“Magitech, you say.”
“Yes. It was disheartening. That such a promising technology had been suppressed at the bottom, bound by tradition until now...”
“......”
“So last week, I persuaded His Majesty and secured permission to establish this research institute. I'd like you to join us here.”


Wingester was quite shaken by the offer to be employed not as a political pawn, but as a researcher at the Magitech Research Institute the prince sought to revive.


Unlike private deals, where the risk of being swindled or having technology stolen was considerable, serving under the Second Prince, a man of formidable skill, was trustworthy.
Above all, there was the honor of being personally appointed by the prince.


“Of course, I don't intend to force you, but I must admit, your talent is tempting.”
“......”


Wingester, who had been silent, raised his hand lightly and asked a question.


“Why me?”
“?”
“The winner of the magic duel was Romulus. He also created an excellent magic tool.”


The prince shook his head at Wingester's question.


“I've studied Magitech and magic tools for years. By observing their use, I can roughly gauge the level of a magic tool.”
“……!”
“Romulus... that sword-like thing made by the youngest of the Seiz family? It's just a simple item where they shortened the handle part of a staff and enlarged the mana sphere into a sword shape.”


With just a brief glance, he had pierced through the essence of Romulus's Slash Staff.


Wingester felt cold sweat trickling down his body as he gripped the Barret Staff tightly.


“But your staff... to be honest, even I still can't figure out how it works. That's precisely why it intrigues me.”
“……!”


The prince patted the shoulder Wingester was leaning on a few times in encouragement, then said he could leave for now and called the guards back.


“Let's talk again soon. Wingester.”
“...Yes.”


*


Griphellos, having sent Wingester away, returned to the palace under the escort of the royal guard.
Several courtiers who followed him cautiously approached and relayed the discussions that had taken place while he was away from the palace.


“Understood.”


After grasping the general gist, the prince dismissed them and ordered the guard to bring Professor Koch.


Sitting face-to-face with Professor Koch, who had come, he brought up the matter he wished to confirm.


“Apologies for summoning you so suddenly. There's something I absolutely must hear from you.”
“Heh heh heh... What could Prince Griphellos possibly want from a mere mage like me...”
“Regarding a student named Wingester Mustang, it's just that...”
“......!”


Griphellos instantly noticed a faint glint of murderous intent in the old mage's eyes, and his smile deepened.


He was undoubtedly aware of something concerning Wingester.
He had already obtained the basic information from his younger sister.


“It's not bad news. There's no need to be so tense.”
“I-I'm sorry.”
“No, no, I'm the one who should apologize for bringing this up so suddenly.”


Koch cleared his throat with a “Khm.” and began speaking.


“...How much does Your Highness know...?”
“Oh...?”


The prince instantly realized Koch was hiding more than he had anticipated. He began calculating how to extract everything he desired from this seasoned mage.


“I was merely checking the Academy's collection of graduation theses to find young talent. Among them, I found an intriguing paper. Upon investigating, I learned that young man even engaged in a magic duel with the youngest of the Seiz family. So, I went to meet him myself.”
“……!”


Koch felt a secret relief.
It seemed he still didn't know about Wingester's grandfather.
Then, the matter of the magic tool—Wingester's true Achilles' heel...


“And during that duel, I saw him use an intriguing magic tool. That confirmed it. This one must be recruited by me.”


Koch's heart, which had just relaxed, began to tighten again.
Of all things, he had witnessed the Barrett Staff and taken an interest.


If he handled this poorly, not only Wingester but his entire family—and worse, Koch himself—would face severe repercussions.


“I merely sponsored a talented young man.”


If he tried to explain his relationship with Wingester, his grandfather would inevitably come up.
And once the prince heard about his grandfather, he would undoubtedly investigate him by any means necessary.


“Hmm... Is that truly all? If he's a talented student, aren't there many at the Academy? Take the youngest of the Seiz family, for instance. Quite impressive.”
“Students with exceptional mana aptitude have many excellent teachers at the Academy. I merely strive to take an interest in students who show promise among those who lack such aptitude.”
“Indeed, a commendable mindset for an educator.”
“I'm flattered.”
“So you truly have nothing further to say about this student, Wingester?”
“...Yes.”


Despite the prince continuing to press him with a meaningful gaze, Koch calmly bowed his head.
The prince sensed he was no pushover and decided he needed to change tactics.


“I see... Then I suppose I must go see His Majesty.”
“May I ask why Your Highness has such interest in that student?”
“...I wish to appoint him to a position of trust, but it seems there's some issue I'm unaware of. He just hemmed and hawed, unable to give a clear answer.”


If contact had already been made with Wingester, the situation would become far more complicated.
Koch's heart began to race.


“In what capacity do you intend to appoint him...”
“His Majesty has just granted permission to establish the Royal Institute of Magitech. I've been reviewing the Academy's graduation theses for years now, seeking to discover talented Magitech engineers.”


At first glance, it sounded tempting, but there was a crucial problem.
Wingester's grandfather, the originator of the Barrett Staff, had been labeled a subversive by the current king's judgment decades ago and ‘disposed of’.


Given the nature of the matter, it was handled secretly to prevent the repercussions from reaching his family.
If this fact were to surface during the prince's discussions with the king about recruiting Wingester...


“That... is good news for Wingester, I suppose...”


The prince was certain.
Koch was growing anxious.
The seasoned Archmage's eyes were trembling faintly.


“Indeed. That is why I intend to petition His Majesty for permission to review the records of the Arcane Veil.”
"Ah, the Arcane Veil...?!


Gasping for breath, Koch's breathing became irregular. Griphellos wore a victor's smile.


“Now, let's confirm one more thing. Merely out of an old woman's concern, mind you.”
“……!”
“...Regarding Wingester, is there... anything else you know?”


-To be continued-

Wingester gritted his teeth, completely unwrapping the cloth and pointing the Barrett Staff at him.


“Armor alone won't stop this...!”
“Hmph.”


Flutter.


Romulus also unraveled the bundle of cloth he had strapped to his back.
Inside was something he hadn't expected at all...


“...A sword...?!
”Yes. A Slash Staff."


A sword with a long magic stone used as its entire blade, featuring a large cylinder resembling a mana concentrator mounted on the hilt.
It was essentially a staff transformed into sword form.


“...You've made something interesting.”
“Heh, you won't find it interesting once you've tasted it.”
“As the old saying goes, ‘The sword is mightier than the fist, and the gun is mightier than the sword’!”


Thwack!


Wingester didn't hesitate, firing a ball of flame straight at his head.


“How pathetic!”


Romulus immediately swung his Slash Staff downwards.


“Lightning Slash-!”


Following the blade's trajectory, a heavy lightning strike accompanied by intense sparks sliced the fireball clean in two with ease and surged toward Wingester.


“?!
”How's that! This is the difference in skill between you and me!"
“Guh...!”


He belatedly activated the defensive magic embedded in his gauntlet, but...


Zzzzzzz-!


“...!?”


The intense lightning strike sliced through the gauntlet and Wingester himself, obliterating even the defensive magic he had managed to cast.


The shattered gauntlet fell to the floor. Wingester, bleeding from his severed wrist and trembling from the lightning's shock, realized.


Romulus's sword-shaped staff was fundamentally different from Wingester's Barrett Staff.


Unlike Wingester, who entrusted his entire combat magic activation to his Barrett Staff to compensate for his low mana aptitude, his Slash Staff was, after all, just a simple wand.


Meaning the magic he just took was, without a doubt, developed specifically for that wand by Romulus himself, who was chanting and casting it directly.


“What... the...!”
“That magic tool of yours was clearly designed to rapidly fire off fourth-circle spells, right?”
“......!”


Romulus flashed a victorious smile.


“...Mine is fifth-circle.”
“Gah... Damn...!”
" And one more thing. The ‘Slash Magic’ I just cast... that's the culmination of my graduation thesis—it slices through all kinds of anti-magic treatments and defensive spells, along with the caster, and attacks."


Wingester stared down at his gauntlet, lying pitifully on the floor.
That meant Wingester had no chance of winning in a direct confrontation.


“…Surrender, Wingester. You have no chance.”
“…….”


Romulus finished speaking and stood comfortably, his Slash Staff gripped firmly.
Wingester was no longer a threat to him.


“Keep trying. I hope you surprise me in our next duel.”
“...I'm not some damned motivator for you...!”


Wingester was genuinely enraged.
Gritting his teeth, he glared at Romulus, unleashing all the venom he held in his eyes.


“...That's not what I meant.”
“But that's exactly what it means!”
“......!”


Wingester had read ad nauseam in his favorite collection of hero tales that murder holds no justification.
But that was a separate issue.


Wingester's own pride, his dignity, was being threatened.


“Romulus…!”
“…….”
“I will… kill you!”


Wingester pulled something from his waist pouch and began sprinting.


It was clear he had no chance in a direct confrontation. Under these circumstances, exploiting his opening to inflict a fatal wound was his only option.


“I told you it was useless!”
“Dieeeee!”


Clank.
Romulus saw it.


Wingester had removed the concentrator from his Barrett Staff, then inserted the heavy-looking object he'd taken from his pocket—three concentrators arranged in a triangle.


“You…!”
“How about this!!”


Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!


Without a moment's pause, three rapid shots aimed at vital points.


The barrel glowed red-hot as if screaming, but it didn't matter.
No matter how powerful that Slash Magic was, a single cast couldn't block all of them.


"... Foolish boy.“
”……!“
”Lightning Slash… Triple Fold!"


Swish! Swish! Whack!


As if waiting for it, Romulus sliced through all the magic bullets in three consecutive strikes, shattering them and rendering them useless.
Moreover, that slash charged straight towards Wingester.


“Triple Chain…!”
“…….”


He never expected that magic to be used as a Triple Chain.
Wingester gritted his teeth and drew another trump card from behind his waist.


The sample blueprint Grandfather had brought from the Maritime Kingdom, the part attached below the barrel.


Click.


It snapped precisely into the groove prepared in advance on the new Barrett Staff. It was a sharp bayonet.


“GRAAAAAAARGH!!”


After using every physical enhancement spell he possessed, he additionally wrapped mana around the blade of the bayonet and swung it.


Clang!


He barely parried and deflected two slashes with the bayonet.


But...


Thwack!


“Guhh...!!”


Wingester couldn't react in time to the third slash. His abdomen was sliced open, and he was flung to the floor.
Just as he forced his paralyzed body to rise, a cold sensation touched Wingester's hair.


“......”
“That's enough. Wingester. You've lost.”
“...Do you think... I'll... give up...!”
“......”


Gripping the drawn blade, he tried to force himself up, but his paralyzed legs refused to obey.


“Why are you being so stubborn? Is your life worth so little?”
“You... you're the one to talk about the value of my life?!”
“……!”
"I can't... lose to a young master like you! "


Wingester finally rose, clutching his trouser hem, and though staggering, gripped his Barrett Staff firmly.


He absolutely could not lose.


The Barrett Staff in his hand held not only Wingester's own will, but also the life, honor, and pride of his grandfather, whom he respected beyond measure.


To lose while wielding this was something Wingester could never accept.


“What the hell is driving you like this...?”
“It's none of your business... someone like you. . .”
“…You won't yield even if it kills you?”
“Of course not…!”


After watching Wingester like that for a moment, he shook his head and sighed.
Then, he lightly planted the blade of his Slash Staff into the ground and crossed his arms.


“...I lost.”
“What...?!?”
“So, let's call this duel my defeat.”
“Don't be ridiculous!”


Wingester, enraged, staggered forward and grabbed his collar.


“You... you intend to insult me!”
“No. Not at all.”
“Then why the hell...!”
“......”


Romulus sighed and avoided his gaze.


“...Because I'm not prepared to ‘kill’ you.”
“......!”
“Clearly, if this continues, you'll never give up and keep attacking me. Right up until the moment you truly die....”
“......”
“I have no desire to fight you that far. So, I concede defeat.”


Hearing Romulus' explanation, Wingester gritted his teeth.


This bastard is trying to maintain his stance as a rival of goodwill, even against an opponent who seeks to kill him.


“...Damn bastard.”
“......”
“...It's a draw.”
“What?”
“This duel... is a draw. A draw that might as well be an utter defeat for me.”
“......!”


Romulus helped Wingester, who had finally collapsed to the floor, back up.


“...Sorry.”
“Don't apologize. Damn you...!”
“......”
“Next time, I'll definitely break that pride of yours...”
“Anytime. I welcome your challenge whenever you throw it down.”


The princess, who had been watching the two from afar, cautiously approached.
She had been worried, but it seemed things had been settled, barely.
She was secretly relieved that Wingester hadn't stepped onto a dangerous path, thanks to Romulus.


Clap. Clap. Clap.


“...An excellent duel. And excellent magical tools.”


From behind a tree trunk a short distance away, someone emerged, applauding.
That figure, with the blue-silver hair characteristic of the royal family, swaying slightly in the wind...


“…Griphellos…Brother?”
“Elmaread. It’s been a while.”


The one who stepped out was the Second Prince, Griphellos, currently vying with the First Prince for the position of next Crown Prince within the kingdom.


Beside Griphellos, Romulus's father also accompanied them, dressed in full uniform.


“Ah, Father?”
“...You did well, son.”
“......!”


Romulus's face twisted as if he might cry, but he immediately realized he was in front of the princess and prince. He gritted his teeth and held back his tears.
His heart was pounding with emotion, having finally received praise from his father after being treated like a good-for-nothing all this time.


“Romulus. If it's alright, I have something important to discuss with Wingester... Would it be acceptable if I took him away for a moment?”


Griphellos gestured to Wingester, seemingly interested in him, indicating he would take him away.
Wingester forced himself upright, supported by another, and faced the prince.


“May I ask why you wish to take me...?”
“...I thought you'd already know.”


Wingester felt a chill run down his spine.
The prince's gaze was fixed precisely on the Barrett Staff in his hand.


Wingester swallowed hard and cautiously hid the Barrett Staff behind his back.


“Well then, I can assure you it’s not bad news. Won’t you come with me?”
“…Is that… an order…?”
“No. It’s a ‘suggestion’.”


The prince's gaze implied that refusing to follow him now would lead to greater trouble later.
Though renowned as a tactician, rumors suggested he possessed a ruthless side, willing to use any means to achieve his ends.


It was called a suggestion, but refusing would surely bring misfortune.


“...Understood.”
“A wise young man. Does anyone object?”


No one present dared refuse the Second Prince's will.
The prince ordered his two escort mages to support Wingester and bring him forward.


*


After descending the mountain, they headed to an upscale restaurant near the palace.


“Why here of all places…?”


Prince Griphellos sat across from him, leisurely reading the menu.


“Your Highness…?”
“Would you join me for a meal first?”
“……!”
“I hope it suits your taste….”
“Why would you suddenly invite someone like me….”


His counterpart was the Second Prince, renowned for his cunning.
For such a man to invite him to dine without preamble meant he surely desired something from Wingester.


“I vaguely recall the magic tool you used.”
“……!”


Wingester, feeling burdened, rose to avoid him, but his body faltered and he sat back down.


“Hehehe, a wise young man indeed.”
“...Gulp....”
“I'm sorry to bring this up when you're injured and in pain. But I wanted to handle things before word spreads.”


Though he couldn't read his intentions, his instincts warned of danger.
He wanted to refuse the meal and storm out immediately, but the other already held his vital points.


The initiative was firmly in his hands.


-To be continued-