Several days had passed, and by the time the commotion in the Baldur Mountains was being discussed throughout the Imperial Capital, the Imperial Castle had descended into a state of daily uproar.
It was only natural that the center of this unprecedented disturbance was the prestigious Imperial Academy, a name known across the world. There was no way such an incident would not become a major scandal, and every available resource was being poured into investigating who had orchestrated it and to what end.
Ironically, this had fostered a cooperative relationship between the political factions that had never existed before. The parents of the examinees who had participated in the final exam for the Special Merit Class—the pride of the Academy—shared a common fury that transcended their partisan ties. Their anger was directed squarely at the Academy’s Board of Directors, which was currently facing a grueling inquiry.
Naturally, some sought to hold the Academy Principal, Chronoa Highland, accountable. However, she had already left the country on official state business before the final exam even began. Furthermore, an entry found in the Board’s meeting minutes proved she had argued for removing the Baldur Mountains from the list of testing sites. This shifted the focus of the investigation toward those who had moved behind the scenes after her departure.
"I heard a rather interesting story, Edgar."
Marquis Ignat spoke as he walked down a corridor of the Imperial Castle, having just left a massive conference room. Usually, this was a solemn space where even whispers were rare, but now the hall was thick with the sounds of agitation.
Edgar, following closely behind, narrowed his eyes against the morning sun streaming through the windows. "By all means, my lord, please share it."
"Of course. I only learned of it today, but apparently, a noble on the Board of Directors was found dead in his home."
"...Hmph. Would that be the same noble who performed the final inspection on the Magic Ship Lady Fiona boarded?"
"As sharp as ever, Edgar. Yes, that's the one. He reportedly took his own life with poison. It seems he died before the incident even came to light. The knights have already swarmed his manor to gather information."
"They likely won't find a thing."
"I suspect you're right. The level of meticulous preparation suggests he planned to die from the very start."
The Marquis stopped, leaning his back against the wall and crossing his arms. "I'm told the corruption within his house was quite extensive, but the most curious detail is his expression. They say he died with a smile on his face."
"As if he had no fear of death at all."
"Exactly. Or perhaps he was simply happy. If the man had a master and this entire disaster served that master’s ends... well, he might have felt that dying for the cause was a supreme joy. Wouldn't you agree?"
"It sounds as though he was a loyal retainer on par with myself."
"Haha, quite so."
The Marquis laughed, but his body began to radiate a dense, chilling aura akin to bloodlust. Despite the smile remaining on his lips, the sheer weight of his presence made passersby catch their breath in instinctive fear.
"It seems we’ve entered an era where one cannot even trust their own faction."
This was the grim reality. The culprit behind the recent chaos had targeted an exam where stakeholders from both the Hero Faction and the Imperial Faction were present, showing no bias in their destruction.
"—The Demon King Cult, was it? That was the name mentioned by the adventurer who saved Lady Fiona," Edgar noted.
"Yes, the adventurer. He claimed he'd overheard the name at the Guild. It was a useful tip; we’ve confirmed their existence on our end as well. Now we just need to catch their tail and make contact... though the real problem starts after that."
The Marquis recalled his recent conversation with his daughter with a faint, knowing smile.
'I'll ask you one more time, Fiona. You were saved by an adventurer, and Asval’s end was essentially self-destruction, correct?'
'Yes. It is exactly as you said, Father.'
'...I see. And since then, your power has settled significantly. Is this also certain?'
When Fiona had returned to his side, he had been overcome with relief just to see her alive. But as a father, he couldn't ignore the dissonance in her story. He realized instantly that she was intentionally hiding something from him. Everything was playing out exactly as the boy, Ren, had anticipated.
'Good grief... both my daughter and that boy are quite sloppy.'
'Father...? What did you just say?'
'It's nothing. I was just murmuring how glad I am that you're alive.'
Exiting the memory, Marquis Ignat let out a weary sigh. "She’s quite the airhead for my daughter. If I were to demand an official report from the Clausel knights, they would be obligated to tell me the adventurer's name."
"It is as you say. Perhaps Lady Fiona—and the young man in question—were simply too exhausted to think it through. Or perhaps he had no intention of hiding it from you in the first place."
"It’s likely the latter. He probably trusted me to catch on. He likely asked Fiona to lie because he wanted some time to himself before the inevitable fallout."
The Marquis didn't mind the deception. He saw no reason to suspect Ren of being involved with the Cult. He chose to respect the wishes of the person who had saved his daughter not once, but twice.
"Eventually, a report will arrive through Baron Clausel—framed as information gathered by the Clausel knights. That boy wouldn't make a mistake in his judgment there."
There was no need to rush the matter with Ren. The Marquis decided to focus on what he could do now. He had information, and more was arriving daily from the ongoing investigation in the Baldur Mountains. For a man like Ulysses Ignat, that was more than enough to work with.
"I have no more business in the capital. There are more important things to do than bicker over who to blame. Shall we go, Edgar?"
Edgar, having served the Marquis for many years, felt a faint sense of unease. He had expected his master to bury at least a few nobles before leaving. Instead, the Marquis had been unnervingly quiet. While he had made the necessary inquiries regarding accountability, other nobles had been far more bellicose in their rhetoric.
"Are you certain, my lord? I thought you would leave more of a mark before we departed."
"Hmm... I have my thoughts, but this whole thing is just a farce. Without more information on the Cult, any move just becomes a game of shifting blame. It’s a waste of time. I’d much rather get back to Fiona’s side."
But he wasn't without a plan. Ulysses Ignat had a very specific goal in mind.
At that same moment, in a different wing of the castle, a young man and woman were walking down a corridor.
The boy had dignified features and silver hair; he looked to be roughly the same age as Ren. The girl beside him was similar in age, but she was clearly not human. She was a mixed-blood of the Cait Sith—a race of cat-like humanoids.
"So that's how it is, nya."
"What do you mean, 'that's how it is'? Stop skipping the details and explain it again."
The silver-haired boy sighed at the girl’s casual tone, an exasperated look on his handsome face. "There was an inscription on the body of the Director who committed suicide, right? Start from there. Continue."
The mixed-blood girl gave a sheepish grin. "Nyahaha..." Since she inherited mostly human traits, her Cait Sith heritage was only visible in her cat ears and tail. Combined with her refined features, she was undeniably charming. However, the silver-haired boy reached out and lightly pinched her cheek.
"Wh-Why was I pinched, nya!?"
"Because your attitude is lax, you fool. Besides, it didn't even hurt."
"True, nya. As expected of Your Highness! Your control over your pinches is a work of genius, nya!"
"Be quiet. I don't want to be praised for that. Just get on with it."
The girl cleared her throat, dropping her playful demeanor. Her expression became serious and her voice turned formal. "The inscription on the Director’s body contained traces of mana identical to those found in the subordinates of the Demon King in ancient times, nya."
"So they are either remnants of the Demon King's Army or those seeking his resurrection."
"That is the most likely conclusion, nya."
"...This is troublesome. If there are people in this country seduced by the Demon King's power, I can't even trust my own faction's nobles."
"What will you do then, nya?"
"The answer is simple. I must gather trustworthy allies to hunt down those siding with the Demon King."
He spoke with conviction, but the girl groaned. "Finding people who share Your Highness's ideals and are capable of acting on them sounds like a tall order, nya."
"Without allies, I can achieve nothing. If the Demon King is truly involved, the burden is too heavy for me alone. If I try to take this on by myself, I’ll likely just be devoured in the end."
"True, Your Highness! But while you're looking for allies, I really wish you'd finally choose an exclusive knight, nya!"
"I’m trying, but I haven't found a knight I actually get along with. It can't be helped."
"Sigh... this is why people gossip about how you swap out your Royal Knights like old socks, nya. Spare a thought for your poor attendant's feelings, nya."
The silver-haired boy sighed once more as they walked on.
"Now that I can no longer trust the Imperial Faction itself, I need precious allies who share my convictions," Marquis Ignat said.
Hearing this, Edgar allowed a faint smile to cross his face. "Fufu..."
"Hm? What's so funny, Edgar?"
"My apologies, my lord. I simply never expected to hear such words from you. However, I believe your instincts are correct."
Ulysses gave a self-deprecating laugh but didn't disagree. "It will be difficult, though. There aren't many nobles with the right mindset. Finding someone who truly shares my goals feels like a challenge."
"Indeed. If the Demon King Cult is our enemy, we need someone we can entrust our lives to. They would need to be brilliant, of course, but also possess an iron will. Even as I say it, I realize how much I'm asking for."
Ulysses walked in silence, pondering the future. It was a problem that would define the rest of his life. He nodded at Edgar’s words but couldn't shake the feeling of urgency. He thought of Chronoa, but he needed more than just her.
Was there anyone out there who was strong enough to stand beside him? He felt a sense of crisis regarding the Cult that he had never experienced before. He wondered if such an ally would ever simply appear before him.
"Nevertheless, I must find allies."
He had Baron Clausel for now. Whether the Baron would truly share his aspirations remained to be seen, but as he voiced his desire for more—
"Good grief... I only wish I could find an exclusive knight alongside the allies I seek."
A voice rang out from around the corner ahead. Ulysses and the owner of the voice rounded the bend at the same time, nearly colliding.
"Oh?"
"Hm?"
Following Ulysses’s surprised blink, the silver-haired boy let out a grunt of confusion. The two men stared at one another.
They had seen each other many times within the castle walls, but in this moment, they shared a prolonged silence. They looked into each other's eyes, searching for the intent hidden in the depths of their pupils.
"—Well, well. If it isn't Prince Radius."
"—So it was you, Ulysses."
Even after greeting each other, the silence stretched on. Both realized that their previous conversations with their attendants had likely been overheard, yet they continued to probe one another's expressions. Despite standing before Ulysses Ignat—a great noble so powerful that most avoided him—the boy called Radius did not flinch. He stood his ground with regal dignity, meeting the Marquis's gaze without blinking.
"Do you have a moment?" Radius was the first to speak.
"I was planning to return to Eupeheim immediately, but if it is an invitation from Prince Radius himself, I shall accompany you anywhere."
Radius gave a sharp nod and began to walk. Over his shoulder, he asked, "If your daughter had died... what would you have done?"
"Are you referring to the recent disaster? Or perhaps the time the Imperial Family refused to provide the materials needed for her treatment? —Prince Radius."
"The latter, obviously."
Edgar felt his heart hammer against his ribs. He was terrified his master might answer with total, unvarnished honesty. But the Marquis spoke as if they were merely discussing the weather.
"I cannot deal in hypotheticals regarding recent events. However, if Fiona had lost her life due to that earlier refusal... I would never have forgiven the Empire. Nor the Imperial Family."
"And what would you have done in your rage?"
"It is only an assumption, of course... but I would have wished for the total collapse of the Leomel Empire. To achieve that, I likely would have taken the life of the Third Prince—you—the man rumored to be the next Emperor."
"M-Master!" Edgar hissed.
"It's fine," Radius said, stopping in his tracks to look Ulysses in the eye. "If anything, that answer tells me exactly how you feel about me."
Radius paused, his gaze intensifying. "But listen, Ulysses. Don't you think we could join forces for a common goal? Even if you harbor a grudge against me and my family?"
"...Oh? Are you not afraid that I might drive a blade into your back?"
"If my actions also serve your daughter’s interests... well, knowing you, I am certain you would choose the most advantageous path."
Another silence followed, lasting several minutes. They simply stared at one another, saying nothing. Their attendants stood frozen, barely daring to breathe or even blink as they watched the tension crackle between the two powerhouses.
"—You are the very first person to speak so boldly to me, Your Highness."
Ulysses reached out his hand. Radius took it firmly.
In the story Ren knew, these were the man who took a life and the man whose life was taken. It would be some time before Ren learned that, in this world, those two had joined hands.