The Editor Is the Novel’s Extra

For eternal peace (1)

The city’s borders in the distance began to turn black and white as the midday sun lost its sharpness. Kleio immediately knew why. Arthur’s life was being threatened. His heart pounded in his ribs; his mouth grew dry. There was quite a distance between the north gate and the parliament. He could only wonder what Arthur was going through in that cold basement right now.

‘He said he wasn’t going to kill Arthur. What’s going on?’

Kleio stood up. Even Separation couldn’t prevent his anxiety. As his cup rattled off the table and hit the ground, Melchior smiled as if he found it refreshing. His gaze moved from Kleio and slowly turned outwards through the window, into the apocalyptic landscape where even the river had stopped flowing.

“The knowledge that only you and I have in this world….”

When Arthur had been injured a few years ago, even Isiel had stopped with the world. Now, however, Kleio didn’t have time to talk about it with the crown prince. He took a few moments to consider the shortest path to the basement at the north gate, then prepared to jump through the window.

Shaaaa-

The energy of healing magic activated in an explosion as Perception extended to his limit.

‘Ah… whoo!’

Was his desperate mind amplifying the power of Promise? The ring on his finger heated up, revealing a hazy remnant of letters in front of Kleio. He detected simple healing magic that even a 3rd level wizard could cast, but the ether being used was from one who was very skilled. The user began the magic formula at a minimal level, then increased the intensity to make up for the low level.

Without worrying about Kleio, who was pale and covered in a cold sweat, Melchior poured more lukewarm tea into his empty cup.

“Will you go? It’s alright, but be aware of one thing: it is the first time someone who has been awarded a capital defense medal has been involved in treason. It will be an event that will remain in the kingdom’s history.”

The wizard, his hand on the window, quickly regained his reason. It was thanks to Separation that he held his reins a beat later.

“If the strongest attack wizard in the Dernier continent and the commander of the northeast defense forces joined together to instigate a rebellion, there would be enough grounds to put up the agenda of depriving Arthur’s succession to the Royal Advisory Committee.”

Kleio unconsciously ground his teeth. Trying to persuade this man was useless. Melchior knew better than anyone to think that this meeting was for the excuse and accusations Kleio had put forward.

‘Because it’s not anyone else, but it’s a work he designed himself.’

Now it was clear: Melchior planned to draw support away from the northeast defense forces even though he knew about what Cruel was doing in the first place. It was a move to disqualify Arthur from competing for the throne. How many years had it taken him to form that plan? How many lifetimes? Kleio had to focus not to be overwhelmed by that terrible patience.

“According to what you said, is the investigation still underway? He was involved in charges of treason, but you’re torturing the prince, not the suspected lead instigator.”

“Are you an advisor? You’re too talkative, Sir Kleio. The director of the bureau, who was interrogating him on these serious matters, seems to have lost her composure in the process. Look, didn’t she stop it with healing magic right away?”

Melchior raised his hand to point outside the window as if to show off the miracle of regeneration. In reality, the context was the opposite. Melchior ordered the destruction, and Arthur’s resilience had brought it back.

Nevertheless, the crown prince’s actions were deceptively persuasive.

“Look, the river flows once more.”

The sky had turned blue again, and the river was flowing as usual toward the open sea of Memoria. Kleio remained silent at the dramatic presentation, finding the behavior shallow and insulting. He pretended to be calm, hanging onto Separation.

“Indeed.”

Melchior frowned at the calm response.

“…Hmm, how can Arthur not question your coldness?”

‘It sounds like he has an answer, but in fact, he’s seeking one. The pretext for devising something more insidious than these treason charges to be thrown out.’

Instead of getting caught up in Melchior’s mischief, he cut to the point.

“For what purpose are you dealing with Arthur so harshly? It’s assumed that the student’s testimony won’t be necessary to determine Viscount Kision’s fate. Also, you cannot know that his own choice was to protect his country primarily.”

He spoke provocatively, suppressing his desire to rush to the north gate and destroy the prison. If he did that, Arthur would be unable to take Albion’s throne. Arthur could be hurt, but he couldn’t let his honor fade. Kleio had to save him, but to do that, he first had to know Melchior’s intent.

“To interrogate Arthur, it would be the correct procedure to also go after Duke Cruel, who had impeded support for Viscount Kision. What do you really want to get from him?”

“Are you truly curious about it?”

“It looks like you’re hoping to get the joy of answering.”

The years of accompaniment with this dreadful human gave Kleio a sort of intuition. Unlike the others, the crown prince hadn’t received the grace of oblivion. Knowledge had isolated him, and solitude drove him mad. Were he not born with great strength and will, the crown prince wouldn’t have even been able to fulfill his role. Nevertheless, the crown prince, who had reached the limit, sought understanding from Kleio from their first encounter.

“Ahaha! Yes, I don’t even know if I’ve been looking for that joy all this time. I like that simplicity. Yes, I will answer you.”

His bright turquoise eyes with a hint of scarlet shimmered with joy under his lashes.

“There’s only one thing I ask Arthur – a [Covenant] of allegiance.”

Unfiltered words sprang up in Kleio’s mind.

‘Did I misunderstand this motherfucker’s words?’

A loyalty [Covenant]. If he made one with Melchior, Arthur would be unable to pursue the throne at all. What excuses could be made for someone torturing people to force them to such an unreasonable demand?

“Oh, don’t look at me as if I’m so evil. You can’t blame me. What on earth could I do to scare him away? It is you, Kleio Asel.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He arrived at the north gate first and saw you being dragged out of the wagon. It must’ve been an impressive scene, as it’s been a pretty helpful basis for persuasion.”

Kleio felt dark and dizzy that he, not anyone else, had become a threat to Arthur’s life and future. Melchior’s smile only deepened.

“Ask yourself who you are. Even though you have the power to drop spears from the sky and fire, you aren’t obligated to a covenant. If so, wouldn’t it be a countermeasure to impose a covenant on the one you’re in good faith with?”

Kleio noticed the blush of joy on the prince’s cheeks.

‘He’s trying to blame me for Arthur’s pain with that little speech.’

Kleio wasn’t naïve to be shaken by that. If he were caught up in his guilty and self-pity, then he would make more mistakes. Kleio carefully chose his words.

“You think that I would betray my country. Where did you get such an idea? I’m a knight of Albion, and I will be loyal to God and the state.”

Melchior’s charges were absurd. The Goddess had entrusted the future of the world to this kingdom, so how could he abandon his Promise and duty? Not that he could explain that to Melchior.

“I’m not questioning your loyalty. But, understandably, such doubts are possible.”

“If you want me to prove my loyalty, shouldn’t you command me to perform a [Covenant] instead of torturing Arthur for one?”

“Certainly, you maintain your composure better than Arthur. But I have no mind to demand a [Covenant] by hurting you.”

Kleio understood the prince’s intent. This life aimed to gauge what kind of things those who belonged to God could do by allowing them to enjoy freedom. For the prince, life wasn’t a one-time event but an eternal cycle.

“But Arthur didn’t know about it, so I was able to have my youngest brother sit quietly in a chair in the dungeon of the north gate. Did that answer the question?”

He threatened Kleio’s comfort and demanded a [Covenant], then told Kleio he was using Arthur as a hostage. Melchior was trying to create a path where Arthur and Kleio would lose their heads for each other.

‘Even if that plan fails, he can gather information by how we behave… Based on that, he can come up with a subtler plan next time. I can never escape.’

Suddenly, the prince turned his head to stare into the air as if waiting for some sign. But there were no signs, only silence. Melchior sighed sadly.

“…I gave him a great opportunity to serve with all his sincerity, but, well, he hasn’t yet decided to prove his authenticity.”

Melchior smiled calmly.

“Isn’t the person to blame not Sir Kleio? Arthur’s suffering comes from God. You must be a divine messenger who manifested only for my younger brother. Whether the arrival is fortune or anger cannot be determined by human methods.”

Melchior remembered the night his agents dragged them in. His feet had been exposed, his body clothed in nothing more than pajamas. The hero’s face grew pale, stained with pain and fear, helplessness, sorrow, and anger.

‘Though it is a tool of God, the role of the tool depends on its use.’

Melchior, who was living his ninth life, was happy about the existence of this wizard. A pure friendship that had never existed in Arthur’s life, a weakness that the person born as the protagonist couldn’t defend.

“I really enjoy this moment. Until now, in his life, there was no object that scared him. His co-workers would die or live for the cause, so that didn’t change anything if they fell. Rather, they were proud of their courage not to fear death. For example, the daughter of that exiled noble.”

Kleio didn’t know the contents before the 8th manuscript, but he could take a guess at the past.

‘Those things can never be changed.’

Since all of them had gathered by their own will, they would’ve valued the survival of their choice and not the lives of the individual. Hence, Melchior didn’t consider Cel, Isiel, Lippi, or Leticia. He instead waited and devoted his time to searching for changeable elements.

Melchior did whatever it took to break the conditions given to him. He had no time for conscience, and taboos of fraternal murder didn’t block his path.

Kleio let out a deep sigh as he considered the terrible single-mindedness the prince had.