Six months ago. The royal training grounds had been transformed into a maelstrom of terror and chaos.
The Royal Rank Magic, Elysion, dwelling within Princess Irene had spiraled out of control, and its unchecked power was currently tearing through the arena.
Even the Royal Guard couldn't get close. The Court Mages were doing everything in their power just to protect themselves.
Everyone present felt the looming shadow of death, and everyone was on the verge of abandoning the rampaging Second Princess to her fate.
Irene herself, scorched by the overflowing mana, had already accepted her end.
At that moment—
"Clench your teeth, Your Highness!"
A single boy leaped into the eye of the storm.
Claude von Einhart. At the time, he was the eldest son of a ducal house who had already made a name for himself as a notorious rogue.
Amidst the thrashing mana, he tightly clenched his fist and—
"Gah...!"
Without a shred of hesitation, he drove his fist deep into the princess’s stomach.
The air was forcibly expelled from her lungs. The sheer impact knocked her unconscious, and the rampaging mana instantly dissipated into mist.
...When she came to, Irene found herself cradled in his arms.
The moment she opened her eyes, she understood his intent. Magic cannot be maintained without a conscious anchor. He had intentionally used brute force to snuff out her awareness and stop the catastrophe.
There must have been others who thought of the same solution.
However, no one else had the audacity to strike a member of the royal family in front of the entire public.
No one except him.
"Wh-why...?" Irene asked through her hazy consciousness.
Claude was already famous as a troublemaker. Perhaps that was why he hadn't hesitated to hit her.
Still, a question remained.
If he had made even the slightest mistake, he would have been caught in the magical feedback and died. Irene couldn't understand why he would take such a reckless risk.
"Aren't you... afraid of getting hurt?"
Socially. Physically.
He had stood to lose everything.
But he only gave her a faint, self-deprecating smile.
"I’m terrified. But I couldn't bear to watch it happen."
His eyes seemed to be fixed on some distant future, looking far more mature than his years.
"Regaining lost trust is an arduous task. For Your Highness—who is so deeply beloved by the people—to lose everything over a mere magic rampage... I couldn't stand the sight of it."
He gently brushed back Irene’s disheveled bangs.
"I don’t want you to walk the same path I do. Please, stay as you are—a good princess who never betrays the people’s trust."
Those words were like a blessing, etched forever into the depths of Irene's heart.
"Phew..."
Standing by the window of her office, Irene let out a small sigh.
Unconsciously, her hand moved to her abdomen.
She traced her fingertips over her stomach, feeling the spot through the fabric of her dress.
It was the exact place he had struck her six months ago.
There was no scar, of course. Yet, if she closed her eyes, she could remember it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. The impact, the numbness that had surged through her body, and—the eyes of the boy who had saved her.
It had hurt. It was a searing, agonizing pain.
It was the first time in her life she had ever experienced the sting of violence.
Yet, strangely, the memory wasn't unpleasant.
"...Claude."
Just the other day, her best friend and childhood companion, Celestia, had warned her:
—That man is dangerous. You must stay away from him.
Celestia’s eyes had been filled with a grim intensity. It was hard to believe, but rumors suggested Claude had been complicit in her kidnapping.
But to Irene, it didn't add up.
Had the boy who risked his life to save her truly fallen so far as to become a common villain?
Or—was he deceiving even Celestia?
"I don't care how much you act the part. I won't forget."
Irene gripped her stomach tightly.
This pain, at least, did not lie. She wouldn't be satisfied until she unmasked the man who had given it to her.
"Just you wait. I’m going to peel off that mask of yours... and drag your true nature out into the light."
With her resolve hardened, Irene glared out the window.
Was that man acting the villain somewhere at this very moment?
I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead...!
『You! You, you, you absolute moron!』
Help me, help me, help me, help me!
『Endure it! Endure it, endure it, endure it!』
"Guaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa—!?"
『Claudeeeeeee!』
I lunged sideways with every ounce of strength I had and tumbled across the stone floor.
A split second later, a barrage of Dark Lances impaled the ground where I had been standing.
...That was way too close.
Cold sweat poured from my body.
I was just trying to train like I always do. How did it turn into this?
『No, this was definitely not your usual training...』
Well, sure, I tried something a little different...
During the fight with Luxion, I got my first real look at the Second Rank Magic, Gate. Up until then, I’d only known about Second Rank spells from textbooks, but after observing it in person, I had a hunch that I could pull it off.
So I tried it, and I failed miserably. For some reason, the Gate ended up pointed directly at me, and I’d spent the last few minutes frantically dodging the infinite stream of Dark Lances it spat out.
I nearly got skewered by my own magic.
But wait...
This could actually be perfect for training.
『Hey, you idiot, stop right there. You’ll actually die next time.』
Hmm...
No! I’m doing it!
『But why...』
Don't look so exhausted. I have a reason.
Do you remember what Luxion said? He said his rank in the Order was "Feather."
How high up do you think a "Feather" is?
If the guys in the indigo coats are the rank-and-file grunts, then he’s obviously above them. But would any organization give their highest-ranking members a name like "Feather"?
『...True. The fact that he’s out in the field personally suggests he isn't an executive.』
Right?
My guess is that Luxion is actually on the weaker end of the Order's hierarchy. If that’s the case, I need to start panicking. It’s possible that the Order’s Apostles are all Second Rank magic users at the very least.
『...It won't matter if you die before the war even starts. I’ve never heard of anyone firing a Gate at themselves on purpose.』
I don’t want to die either. If you have a better idea, I’m all ears. Until then, let’s stick with this method.
『I suppose there’s no helping it...』
Anyway, time for a break. Even if I’m in a hurry, I can’t keep redlining my body forever.
『On another note, what are you going to do about Irene? At this rate, she’s going to keep coming after you.』
Ah, I’ve already got a countermeasure for her.
『Oh?』
Irene is the type who won't listen once she’s set her mind on something. Rejection just makes her more stubborn. If I push her away directly, she’ll just chase me harder.
So, I’ll use a third party to cement my bad reputation. I’m going to fill in the outer moat and trap her.
『A sound strategy. But who is this "outer moat"?』
Irene mentioned him herself, didn't she? Prime Minister Logen.
『...I see.』
He’s the man entrusted with the kingdom’s internal affairs. I’ve never met him personally, but my father told me about him. Apparently, he’s an incredibly stiff, meticulous, and upright man.
Irene said the Prime Minister is already wary of me. I’m going to use that to my advantage. I’ll act like the most arrogant, insufferable noble imaginable right in front of him.
Once I do, Logen will undoubtedly warn Irene about how dangerous I am.
『A princess and a prime minister have deep political ties. He would indeed serve as an effective moat.』
Exactly.
With that decided—let's go pay a visit to Prime Minister Logen.
『Even if you are the son of a Duke, is it really that easy to get an audience with the Prime Minister?』
Hey now, Zest. Don’t forget my role. I’m a villainous stepping stone.
『Hmm?』
If they try to turn me away at the front door, I’ll just smash through the windows!