The Magician Who Rose From Failure: Volume 5 E-Book

Gamei Hitsuji

• Herausgeber: J-Novel Club
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: The Magician Who Rose From Failure
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 326

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

After a war of twists and turns and a brief convalescence, Arcus is finally ready to return to Lainur’s capital. There he’ll meet Ceylan’s father, King Crosellode, and be rewarded for his valiant efforts—although he’s not the only one due for an audience with the king.

While rumors about Arcus continue to spread, the Empire evaluates its own part in the war. Will the nation remain a sleeping lion, or begin plotting its next move? And what of the cryptic quest to seek out an emerald on Chain’s behalf, which Arcus received in a dream? Without any clues as to what it might mean, he hardly knows where to begin. But one thing’s for sure: he’s going to be busy for a long while yet.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Cover

Prologue: A Late Start

Part 1: The Gazing Kings

Part 2: The Celebration

Part 3: Charlotte’s Sword

Epilogue: When Arcus Made [REDACTED]

Afterword

Glossary

Color Illustrations

About J-Novel Club

Copyright

Landmarks

Table of Contents

Color Images

Prologue: A Late Start

As Chain made her parting request, Arcus was overcome with drowsiness; as quickly as he lost consciousness, he woke up. His head felt oddly clear under the circumstances; he experienced none of the typical weariness of the freshly roused.

He looked up to see an uninspiring ceiling of cloth, and deduced he was in a tent. His body was laid on a makeshift bed, and white curtains cut off much of the surroundings. A small Sol Glass stood on a simple stand next to his pillow, filling the space with an abundant glow despite the lack of natural daylight.

Arcus made to get up.

“Unngh... Can’t...move...”

His body refused to listen to him. It was a struggle just to roll over. The curtain flipped open as Arcus bewilderedly considered his next move, revealing a woman in a white robe.

“My, I see you are awake.”

“Um, yeah...” Her gentle tone caught him off guard.

“Don’t force yourself to get up. May I ask you to keep resting?”

“Sure...”

“Thank you.” The woman stepped forwards and let the curtain fall back behind her. From what Arcus could tell, her body was slender beneath the robe. He would guess she was in her thirties. Her blonde hair was tied up behind her head in a simple ponytail, and there was an air of cleanliness about her.

She was careful in the way she came in and the way she treated the objects around her, and yet Arcus caught glimpses of haughtiness in her actions, painting a very strange picture indeed. He couldn’t shake the impression that she resembled a career woman from the man’s world.

Regardless of his impression, from her white robe he could tell she was a healer from the army tasked with subjugating Count Nadar.

Arcus was covered in wounds when he collapsed; she was probably the one who had treated him. He belatedly picked up on the strong scent of medical herbs from the air around him.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” replied Arcus.

“Can you tell me your name?”

“Yes, I’m Arcus Raytheft.”

“Thank you. It looks like your memory hasn’t suffered at all.”

Word of his waking must have reached other healers—they began hurrying in and out of the tent. One went to send word outside. One came with a pitcher of water and helped him to drink. One took his pulse; another came to wipe his neck and face. Each worked with the utmost diligence.

“Um, why is everyone giving me so much attention?”

“His Royal Highness wills it.”

“O-Oh...”

Arcus shrank back, a little overwhelmed by the idea. The healer didn’t react, instead picking up a form and asking him a brisk series of questions. For a while it seemed they would never end.

“Can you move your left arm?”

“My left arm? Uh...”

It was only then that it all came back to him. His use of Spinning Barrel during the fight against Dyssea had pushed his left arm past its limit. He tried to move it then, and his hand too, worried he’d caused them permanent damage.

“Ugh...”

As he’d half-expected, his fingers and elbow merely twitched a little.

I guess I went too far...

Arcus glanced at the doctor, a message that his arm would move no further.

“I see,” she murmured. “We have done everything in our power to treat you. However, by the looks of things, you won’t have lost all movement in your arm permanently. We’ll have to be patient and continue to treat you until you are fully healed.”

“Okay...”

It was a little unnerving that magic wasn’t enough to fix his arm completely, but it was good to know the damage wasn’t permanent. Arcus supposed he should count himself lucky that they managed that much. It was still moving a little, which meant his nerves were still sending the right messages. As long as it could heal enough, he’d make do somehow.

He was a magician, after all.

I really need to brush up on my healing magic.

His thoughts were interrupted by a thick hand sweeping away the curtain.

“Huh. You really are awake.”

“Uncle...”

That hearty voice signaled the arrival of Arcus’s uncle, Craib Abend. He was dressed, as usual, with a military jacket slung across his shoulders. He stepped into the partition without waiting for anyone’s permission, and Arcus caught a whiff of cigar smoke.

The healer looked less than pleased with his intrusion. She shot him a rotten scowl. Craib brushed her off with an awkward chuckle. Noah and Cazzy came in behind him. They were both dressed in their usual uniforms. They received no glare from the doctor—likely because they looked much neater than Craib.

“Good morning, uncle.”

“‘Good morning’?” Craib looked inexplicably exasperated.

Arcus turned to the doctor for help, but she averted her gaze like she had no idea what his problem was. Was it not morning anymore, perhaps?

While the doctor pretended she hadn’t just greeted him in the same manner, Noah spoke up. “Master Arcus, it is already the afternoon—a full week since your incapacitation.”

“I ain’t ever seen nobody sleep that long! Gotta say I’m impressed, Master!” Cazzy cackled.

His servants were acting like nothing was amiss; Arcus felt reassured.

The healers left them be, at which point Craib flumped down in a chair.

“I’ve been out for a week?”

“Yeah. We thought ya weren’t ever gonna wake up!” Cazzy said.

“Indeed.”

“You sure like to cause trouble, kid.” Craib sighed.

Arcus laughed nervously.

“It’s nothing to laugh about. Once you’re dead, you’re dead—and you can forget about all the stuff you wanted to do with your life.”

“Yeah. I do try to keep that in mind.”

“I sure hope you do.”

Craib’s lecture barely lasted more than a scant few sentences. He must have known Arcus had little choice than to do what he did. But Arcus was grateful that he cared enough to warn him in the first place.

“It seems about time that I ask for a bonus,” said Noah. “You pay me far too little for the amount of stress you cause.”

“Sorry for making you worry, but I don’t think that’s a real reason for a bonus...”

“I’m employed to carry out errands on your behalf. You never mentioned mental anguish when I signed up.”

“I swear you’re gonna bleed me dry, Noah...”

“Ya had us fightin’ hard too and all. I’d expect a little extra for that, yeah?”

“This sounds like a slippery slope. You’re not gonna start asking for bonuses for every little thing now, are you?”

“Oh, great idea! Ya sure are cunning! I like it!” Cazzy cackled.

Arcus shook his head. “Uncle, how goes the war effort? I gather it should be nearly over by now, if it isn’t already.”

“That’s what you wanna know right off the bat? Eh, I guess I get it though.”

“Please tell me.”

“Lemme start by saying it’s over. The subjugation forces won.”

“Really? Thank goodness.”

“Obviously. I mean, it was won the second I showed up,” Craib boasted, puffing out his chest.

Noah readjusted his monocle, as a hardened aide would, and launched into a more detailed explanation. “After the battle on the plains, His Royal Highness’s troops pursued the fleeing Porque Nadar. The final stage was a siege, but Nadar was already weakened from all the fighting. His stronghold fell within two days. Lady Louise took his head.”

“So that’s how it all ended, huh?”

He could suddenly hear Deet’s cry in his head, outraged that his mother took the biggest prize for herself.

Cazzy scratched at the back of his head awkwardly. “We did have a couple of close calls on toppa that, though...”

“But nothing major?”

“Nothin’ major,” he confirmed. “I was sure those Empire soldiers were gonna give us some trouble after they showed up, but in the end they up and left once we were done on the plains.” Cazzy’s lips stretched into a cheerful grin. “I heard ya fought real hard. The imperial guard were really praisin’ ya, y’know.”

“Oh, um...”

“You gave them Empire soldiers and the Black Panther Cavalry a run for their money, yeah? Not many people can say the same!”

“I was just...focused, I guess. His Royal Highness was there too.”

“Focused? Getting outta that pinch was no small feat. His Royal Highness wasn’t even hurt—and it was all down to your protection. That’s a massive achievement, Arcus.” Arcus’s uncle, usually so strict, lavished him with praise. He always came down hard on Arcus when they trained together, so now he felt extra self-conscious.

“It’s not like you to praise me, uncle.”

“My, are you trying to make Craib look bad? Come on, own up.”

“I was being serious. Stop messing around, idiot.” Craib gave Noah a light punch to the head. Cazzy was doubled up with laughter, and much to Arcus’s satisfaction, he also received a punch. “You guys think you’re funny, huh?”

“Sorry. I’m really not used to you praising me like that though,” Arcus said.

“It’s my policy to give praise where it’s due. You did something incredible out there, and it’s only right that I recognize you for it.”

“R-Right.” Arcus quickly changed the subject before his embarrassment became too obvious. “By the way, what happened to Eido?”

Eido had turned on his co-conspirators to save him and Ceylan at the very end; in turn, Ceylan had said that he would spare Eido from the punishment his prior actions had earned. Arcus needed to know how the situation had resolved in his absence.

Craib looked to the side and jerked his chin. “He’s over there.”

“What?”

Noah opened the curtain wider, revealing Eido. He was as lean as ever and wearing his usual hat. Arcus wondered how long he’d been standing there without him realizing.

Craib shrugged with a sigh. “You coulda just joined the conversation, y’know.”

“You were talking among friends. I didn’t want to interrupt.” A thin smile rose to Eido’s lips.

“You don’t have to be that polite. Jeez.” Craib clicked his tongue.

“I heard that His Royal Highness knows Eido. You sound like you know him too, uncle.”

“Yeah. I had the displeasure of meeting him when the capital was all in a mess.”

“We used to fight, then go out for drinks. We didn’t talk much—but it looks like he’s changed since then.”

Craib frowned back at Eido, as if to try and shut him up. Arcus remembered Craib talking about running away from home—or something along those lines—when Eido first showed up. Arcus wouldn’t be surprised if Craib didn’t like to talk about that time of his life.

Eido took up a position in front of the bed. “Arcus.”

“Yeah?”

“I got in your way during this fight. And now I stand here. I want to know how that makes you feel—honestly.”

It was a pertinent question—he’d stood in their way as an enemy before, and only came here at Ceylan’s bidding. It was no wonder he wanted to know where he stood with Arcus.

It wasn’t just Arcus’s eyes which widened in surprise—those of his other visitors did too.

There was a pause, until Craib scratched the back of his head like he was fed up. “Why you gotta be so serious all the time, huh?”

“There are some answers you’ll never find unless you ask for them. Don’t you think it makes sense?”

“I guess...”

“Please, Arcus. I’d like to hear your answer,” Eido pressed.

There was only one thing for Arcus to say. “I don’t...really think anything about it.”

“Are you sure? I may have come willingly, but do not forget that I was set against you for a time.”

“But you rescued us in the end. That makes us even, right?”

“Only because of His Royal Highness’s ridiculous logic. My aid says nothing about me; I was simply swept up in the situation.”

“Like my uncle said, you’re being very serious about this, and now you’re pushing it even more. I think everyone just wants to call it even at this point. Pretend it never happened. That’s the best we can do now.”

No one here was going to criticize Eido, nor try to drive him away. If everyone was willing to settle things by leaving them unsettled, then what was the use of Eido trying to pin the blame on himself?

“Okay...” Eido finally dropped the subject.

“What are your plans now, Eido?”

“I will remain with you for now. There are questions I need to ask of that man.”

No doubt he meant King Shinlu; there were mysteries still to settle concerning the grim day when he’d driven Eido and his men from the capital.

“My uncle should know what happened too,” Arcus said.

“Indeed. However—”

“I can’t be the one to tell the story. It should come from him.”

“Really.”

“Yes,” both men replied at once.

Was it stubbornness, or just reticence—on both their parts?

Noah shook his head disapprovingly, while Cazzy laughed as he always did.

“Uncle, why did you come as reinforcements?”

“It was on His Majesty’s orders. The Empire was acting fishy, so I was sent to go check it out.”

“You make it sound like His Majesty sent you for a walk...”

Still, Craib was a powerful enough magician that perhaps overthrowing a whole army was equivalent to a leisurely walk.

“Apart from the magicians who came first, weren’t the others split to keep an eye on the Han Tribe and Granciel?”

“They were, yeah. No one really knew where the suspicious movements were coming from.”

“You have to deceive your allies before deceiving your enemy...”

Arcus knew that phrase well from the man’s world, but it was never used in its proper context. This was probably the first time he was truly experiencing its meaning for himself.

The arrival of reinforcements to the subjugation force would have been felt across the entire army. It would have moved differently in its marching and fighting on the field—something which in itself would allow the enemy to sense the reinforcements were on their way. It seemed that the king had kept word of the reinforcements from Ceylan to prevent that.

“What a fascinating turn of phrase. It describes father’s plan perfectly.”

A sudden voice from the other side of the curtain made Arcus jump. Craib, Noah, and Cazzy sprang to their feet, then put their arms to their chest and bowed to greet the noble visitor. They held themselves like they had steel rods in their spines.

Only Eido didn’t react—Arcus still wasn’t sure of his status in society. He turned so he was facing where the visitor would come in, his gaze slightly raised.

The white curtain flipped open, revealing Ceylan. His face was covered, as usual, by a black veil. His headpiece was elaborately decorated, and it resembled that of a Chinese priest. Not his ears, nor his hair, nor the sides of his face were visible. Only the area around his mouth, where the stitching was thinner, gave glimpses of what was underneath when the light hit it. Coupled with his dazzling robe adorned with dragons stitched with golden thread, he gave off a truly magnificent air.

“Y-Your Royal Highness!” Arcus gasped, unable to conceal his surprise.

“I heard you had regained consciousness.”

Arcus couldn’t believe Ceylan had come all the way here just to see him; it was unthinkable.

Eulid Rain, head of the imperial guard, opened the curtain wider to grant Ceylan a path inside. The prince sat down in the seat Craib offered him.

“Please accept my apologies for the state I am in, Your Royal Highness.”

“It is quite all right. You sought to protect me, and your body has paid dearly for it. I must atone for what I have put you through.”

“Please, sir, perish the thought.” It made Arcus uneasy that he couldn’t even bow his head.

Ceylan brought his face closer. “How is your physical condition? I hope it is nothing too serious.”

“I am not in pain, but I am finding it difficult to move, likely because I have been still for a long while.”

“And your left arm?”

“I can barely move it. The healer says we will just have to see how it responds to ongoing treatment.”

“I see.” Ceylan looked like he wanted to say more, but he was keeping quiet.

If Arcus had to guess, it was something along the lines of “sorry.” But, the prince being who he was, it wasn’t a sentiment he was at liberty to voice.

The royal family—particularly Ceylan and Shinlu—had absolute authority in the kingdom. They couldn’t apologize or do anything to acknowledge failure. The royal family, like all the hosts of divine spirits and phantoms, could do no wrong. If they lost that status by apologizing, they would instantly lose their influence and fall from that position.

Arcus turned to Eulid. “Lord Rain, how are the guards who were with us faring?”

“They received healing almost immediately, and so everybody who survived the encounter is still alive. They will be reinstated, so long as they make an adequate recovery.”

Arcus nodded. The state of the rest of the imperial guard had been on his mind since he awoke. He knew that most of them had suffered severe wounds during the fighting, but it was a relief to know their lives were not in danger. He allowed himself a sigh of relief.

“Sir. It is nearly time,” Eulid said to Ceylan.

“Oh. It is later than I thought. I must go ahead to the capital; however, you should take as much time as you require for your recovery. I shall order the healers to keep treating you with extra care.”

“My gratitude knows no bounds, sir.”

Ceylan chuckled. “You seem to be running short of ways to express your gratitude.”

“Yes, sir. It frightens me to think I may have to resort to the same idiom twice.” Arcus joined in with the joke.

Ceylan’s tone suddenly changed, as did his attitude. The prince’s majesty started to weigh on Arcus all at once. “Arcus. Allow me to thank you once again.”

“Your words are wasted on me, sir.”

“You need not be humble. We would likely have fallen short of victory had you not been here.”

“I am just glad you are not hurt, sir.”

Again, Ceylan laughed. “Me too. I shall speak with you again soon.” He stood up. “Arcus. I look forward to counting on you again.”

“Thank you, sir. I shall work as hard as I can to meet your expectations.”

“And expect from you I shall.” Ceylan turned to Eido. “And you, Eido? Will you come with me?”

“I think I’ll stay with Arcus until he has recovered. I’ve caused him no end of trouble; it’s the least I can do.”

“Hm. You certainly are a serious man. But if that is what you wish, then I will leave Arcus in your hands.” Ceylan gave a satisfied nod before stepping through the curtain with Eulid.

Oddly, Arcus felt as though he had not been as nervous around Ceylan as before.

Eulid stopped all of a sudden and turned to Cazzy. “Cazzy, have you thought about what we discussed?”

“Oh, that? Yeah, um, sorry, but I’ll have to pass.”

“I do not have to ask for your reasoning, I suppose. It is him, isn’t it?”

“I dunno how my master’ll mess up if I leave him alone, so yeah. I’m sorry.”

“It’s quite all right. I knew you would refuse. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” With that, Eulid was gone.

“What’s he talking about?” Arcus asked.

“He asked me to become a magician for the imperial guard after the battle on the plains. Said they didn’t have enough supporting magic users. I thought he was just sayin’ it to be nice, y’know?”

“I guess he was serious.”

“Sounds like it.”

When Arcus had split with Cazzy on the plains, he’d asked his servant to go and assist the imperial guard; it sounded like he had been helpful. Cazzy was indeed skilled when it came to supporting magic. Arcus doubted there were many in the kingdom who could match him.

“Are you sure you should’ve turned him down?”

“Are ya kiddin’? The imperial guard’s fulla stuffy nobles. I’m a commoner. I don’t wanna suffocate, thanks.”

“How peculiar,” said Noah. “You do realize you are surrounded by nobles, even in your current position?”

“You don’t think of us as nobles?” Arcus prompted.

“If ya want me to think of ya as a noble, you should act like one! Feels like I’m messin’ around in the Institute all over again.”

Arcus let out a lighthearted laugh.

As things calmed down, he was suddenly struck by Ceylan’s words again.

“I look forward to counting on you again.”

“He’s gonna count on me...again? What does that mean?”

“What it sounds like, right?” said Craib.

“I would say so too,” Eido agreed.

“Indeed,” Noah said.

“You’re one popular kid, huh?” Cazzy cackled.

It seemed that Arcus’s future was set to become even busier.

Part 1: The Gazing Kings

The room was outsized by the standards of the military establishment—wide enough to accommodate tens of people, its high ceilings held up by thick pillars. Two large fireplaces were set deep within it.

In the room’s four corners were metal fixtures engraved with seals to keep the room warm, and a golden chandelier hung from the ceiling, embedded with Sol Glasses imported from the kingdom. Sculptures of creatures described in the Ancient Chronicles stuck their heads out from the walls, and the prevailing color of each banner and tapestry was black.

A huge throne sat at the center of the room, three levels high, and on its back were crossed battle flags depicting three-headed snakes with glittering, violet eyes.

This was the throne room of the Eldyne Stronghold in the Northern Confederation’s Darnénes Territory. It was currently occupied by one man and one woman. The woman sat on the throne, leaning her arm on the armrest and propping up her chin. The man stood one level below, carrying documents.

The woman was Meifa Darnénes, leader of the stronghold, known within and without the Confederation as the Iron Rose. She was only just in her twenties, and her features still had a childlike glint to them. Her wavy, dark blonde hair fell beneath her shoulders, and her purple eyes sparkled like amethysts in the exact same shade as the snakes behind her. Her delicate skin was snow-white, like it had never seen the sun, and she wore black gathered gloves and a black dress. Her eyes were closed as if she were sleeping; in truth, beneath her serene exterior, vast mental machinery churned.

The man was one of her subordinates—her eyes and ears for all matters of concern, both foreign and domestic. He looked frivolous for a confidant, like he found it a chore simply to stand there and lacked all motivation. His face was covered with stubble, and there were the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes. While he waited for Meifa to speak, he scratched at his head listlessly, sending flakes of dandruff fluttering through the air.

“It would appear our plan failed,” Meifa remarked stiffly, her husky voice pleasant to the ears.

The man flicked through his documents at his own pace. “Indeed. Ceylan Crosellode noticed our plan the moment he was caught in Porque Nadar’s trap, went straight into Rustinell and put together his subjugation forces there. Then he...uh, one moment please...met Nadar’s army on the plains, won that fight, and...that’s about it.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s a good story, isn’t it? Maybe Ceylan was very lucky, or there was some unknown force involved, or maybe his victory was prearranged. Anyway, it was a flawless victory; almost suspiciously so. That comeback was praiseworthy indeed.” The man let out an undignified laugh.

Meifa sighed, sick to death of hearing variants of this same story. “I suppose the dust has settled now that everyone is calling it the natural outcome.”

“Would that mean Your Excellency foresaw all of this?”

“I did, yes. Not that they would detect the plan ahead of time and fall back, but a small-time noble who can’t bring himself to go any further than embezzlement or smuggling has no chance of defeating a Crosellode. Else Rihaltio or Barbaros would have captured the kingdom long ago.”

“What about the lion hidden within that horde of pigs?”

“If those leading the pack were mostly imperial soldiers, things would be different; the majority of them belonged to Nadar. Soldiers like that could never follow the lion’s directions perfectly. Pigs will always be pigs. There’s no beating a dragon for them, whether they ally themselves with a lion or not.”

“Ah, now that makes perfect sense.”

Meifa glared at him. He was a noble; he should have been able to see that much for himself.

“Is that all you came here to speak about? I fail to see how that warrants taking up my time.”

The man’s expression softened, and his listlessness vanished. “No, there is more. Something unrelated which I would like you to hear, ma’am. Actually, this is the real reason I came to see you. Apparently, an incredibly powerful spell was witnessed on the plains.”

“A spell? Magic is the kingdom’s strong point. That doesn’t sound particularly noteworthy to me.”

“That spell apparently broke through the Empire’s cutting-edge defensive magic with ease and wiped out the entire magical unit, including the cavalry.”

“You mean to say it is a threat?”

“The way our spies speak of it, it is magic of unmatched ferocity. It conjured stones from aether that blew holes through the soldiers, their horses, and their armor.”

“That sounds like the same type of magic you see everywhere.”

Her confidant shook his head. “Our spies report that, if an entire troop were to use that horrifying spell, their opposition would be pulverized to the last in an instant. The arcane infantry division was torn apart fast enough as it is.”

“Hm?”

Though he tried to explain the magnitude of the spell, it seemed Meifa was struggling to comprehend. The power of a spell was judged based on its appearance and range. It did sound like a powerful spell, but nothing that the stronger magicians in the Northern Confederation couldn’t match.

It was hard to draw any conclusions when she didn’t know how strong the new defensive spell used by the imperial troops was, but it sounded to her just like any spell the kingdom’s state magicians might use—in fact, it would be stranger if they hadn’t used such spells. She was having a hard time pinning down why her confidant seemed to think it so dangerous.

“This is serious,” Meifa’s subordinate pressed. “I’ve brought a magician who fought on Nadar’s side.” He signaled towards the room’s entrance.

A single magician stepped into the throne room after a brief pause. When he had reached the confidant’s side, he faced Meifa, took a knee, and bowed deeply.

“So then, Magician. Describe for me the spell.”

“Yes, Your Excellency! It was an offensive spell which fired fist-sized black stones without pause. Most terrifying was its speed and penetrative strength. It broke through the defensive magic that even the kingdom’s staple Flamrune could not. The shield and the bodies of the magicians behind the barrier were full of holes, and—no, the magicians were completely torn apart.”

“A defensive spell that can hold up against Flamrune, you say? That sounds like a threat indeed.”

It wasn’t clear whether Meifa was referring to the defensive spell or the spell that penetrated it. Perhaps it was both.

Flamrune was Lainur’s offensive workhorse. Every magician in their army used it, so to have a spell capable of blocking it would put any belligerent opposed to them at an advantage. But according to this magician, said counter was already irrelevant.

Meifa’s dark blonde eyebrows twitched. She seemed more interested in this topic now than she had been a short while ago. “In terms of strength, the kingdom’s state magicians should be superior to its army—and yet you seem so frightened of this particular spell. Is there anything else adding to its threat?”

“Yes, ma’am, there is. While I’m uncertain of the details, it seemed this spell was frightfully economical. I believe even your average magician would hold enough aether to be able to use it.”

“Did you learn of the incantation? Would you be able to recreate the spell yourself?”

“My apologies, ma’am. We did not hear the incantation, and none of us were able to recreate those black stones.”

“I see.” Meifa turned her gaze from the magician back to her subordinate. “If what he says is true, we may well see this spell cast in formation soon enough. Supposing it really is more powerful than Flamrune, I agree it would be dangerous.”

“Yes, ma’am. Our forces have only just updated our defensive magic, and those reinforcements were based on the kingdom’s Flamrune and the Empire’s Burning Laughter. If we now have to go back in light of this new spell...” The confidant let out a deep, exhausted sigh. More information would be required to craft defensive magic capable of dealing with this new spell, and his head felt heavy enough as it was.

“Are we sure it’s a new spell?”

“We believe it to be a secret technique. Reports say it was only used by that specific magician, so it’s unlikely to be an official military spell.”

“Has the spell’s caster been identified?”

“Yes, ma’am. The name was, um... Yes, it was Arcus Raytheft.”

“Raytheft? From House Raytheft in the east? As I recall, that house lies under the authority of the Cremelia House.”

“Yes, ma’am. I am not sure what reasons a Raytheft would have for getting involved in the war, but there was no mistaking that silver hair and those red eyes.”

Meifa raised an eyebrow. “Silver hair and red eyes...”

“Yes, ma’am, those are features of the Raytheft family which have been passed down in the eastern part of the kingdom for generations. Some say they can be traced all the way back to The Spiritual Age.” The man waited for a response, but there was none. Meifa seemed to be deep in thought. “Ma’am? Is something the matter?”

“I heard there was some trouble involving a scheme concocted by a group of older men on a recent visit to Lainur.”

“Yes, I know the one. The one where they were trying to pick a fight with that sprite? It sounded suicidally foolish to me. Of course they failed.”

“A hex fiend appeared then.”

“...Huh?” The man’s jaw dropped and didn’t go back up at first, like he had dislocated it—but then he recovered and smiled faintly, like the subject of the conversation had shifted to matters of fiction. “Strange name for a creature, isn’t it? More than trouble, it sounds like it’s got the power to destroy a whole country.”

“There was a hex fiend.”

“U-Um, begging your pardon, ma’am, but a creature like that would have annihilated Lainur’s capital...”

“Yet it didn’t. There was a magician who managed to put a stop to it before things went that far.”

“A state magician?”

“What do you think, Lox? What have we just been speaking about?”

“Wait, not this Arcus Raytheft?!”

“It would appear so.” Meifa nodded quietly.

Lox stared at her. “B-But ma’am...”

“He’s too young?”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean, when I checked... He’s not much more than twelve.”

“Yes... That would make sense, given his height at the time.”

“What magic did he use to drive away the hex fiend, ma’am?”

“It was like...a pillar of light. It reminded me of the Light of the Heavens recorded in the Ancient Chronicles.”

“One of the Ten Fables from the first Chronicle, yes? He’d be good enough to be a state magician with a spell like that...”

“Considering his age, there has to be some sort of trick to his skills somewhere.” Meifa suddenly realized she knew very little about the boy herself. “Is this Arcus Raytheft the son of the Raythefts’ head? Or is he a son of Crucible?”

“According to what I found, the main family has a son around his age.”

“We can assume he will inherit the house, then.”

“It’s not quite that simple, ma’am.”

“No?”

“This doesn’t make a lot of sense, but this Arcus boy was apparently disinherited by the main family.”

“A boy of his talents? Why? Even his servants are supposed to be highly skilled!”

“Accounts indicate that his aether fell short of the family’s standards.”

“Well, I do recall his servants mentioning something along those lines, but even then it sounds absurd!”

“Maybe, but such are the facts. I barely understand it myself.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense compared to what I saw! The magic he used must have required a substantial amount of aether.”

“Quite right, ma’am. If this boy is capable of recreating spells from the fables, then it’s simply impossible for him to have been disinherited for ‘lacking aether.’”

“Perhaps it is disinformation. They are concealing his real strength until he is old enough.”

“I thought so too, and so I looked into it, but the more I did, the more evidence came out that it’s all true.” Lox threw his hands in the air, a sign of surrender. “There’s something else. Nadar’s revolt was detected as early as it was because of this Arcus Raytheft. Ceylan himself apparently thanked the boy for his actions at his audience with the nobles, and even asked him to stay by his side on the battlefield.”

That was enough to make even Meifa visibly aghast. “What on earth is the Raytheft House thinking? Wasn’t the previous head of the Raytheft family mediocre as well?”

“They say Crucible was disinherited too. I suppose not only was he mediocre, but they failed to see his true potential. It’s a common tale among those who value aether above all else.” Lox turned around suddenly and glared at the pillar closest to the door. “Who’s there?” He focused his aura, sharp as a blade, towards the space behind it.

A moment passed, and then a solitary figure appeared: a young man in a tulip hat. He wore a cloak and a large curved blade on his hip. On his back was a knapsack. His eyes were narrow as thread, and it was nigh on impossible to judge what he was thinking at first glance, a feature which only worked to make him more suspicious. He was grinning, completely unaffected by the hostility Lox threw at him.

His name was Gilles, a man acquainted with Arcus and his companions from a chance meeting in Rustinell.

Meifa turned her violet gaze towards him. “Gilles.”

“Nice to see y’here as always, Ms. Meifa. How’s things? All good?”

“I see your habit of showing up wherever you please hasn’t changed.”

“I’d prefer y’to call it bein’ carefree. ’Specially when I said I was comin’ ’n’ all,” Gilles said smugly, leaving Meifa with little room to respond as she’d like.

“Enough of your idle chatter.”

“Oh, yikes. I think my balls are shrivelin’ up.” Gilles wrapped his arms around himself and shivered dramatically.

An eerie spark flashed across Meifa’s violet eyes. Gilles’s expression stiffened, and he hurriedly jumped out of the way.

“Uorgh!”

The floor just in front of his feet turned black as mill scale. The hardened black crackled and swelled slightly before freezing in place.

Gilles, who only just managed to escape it, peered down at the solidified mass. “Huh. Petrifyin’ Iron, izzit, from the Ancient Chronicles? Bone-chillin’.” He prodded at the floor with a curious toe. There was no fear in his actions, just admiration in his voice as he grumbled.

“What are you here for, Gilles?” Meifa asked.

“Nothin’ in particular. Just heard y’guys were talkin’ ’bout Arcus, but I kinda flubbed the timin’ and ended up just kinda standin’ there, y’know.”

Lox scratched his head. “It’s quite the bother for you to come in without permission.”

Meifa narrowed her eyes. “You know about Arcus Raytheft?”

“Ran into him a while back, didn’t I?”

“Oh yes?”

“What, yer curious now? Guess y’would be. Arcus is a real fascinatin’ kid.”

“Enough of that. Tell me about him.”

“Y’hear ’bout the magicians in the kingdom gettin’ all powered up lately?”

“Of course I have. It’s the very reason I sent spies to Nadar’s side.”

“Oh yeah? Whatcha find out?”

Meifa looked to Lox, a signal for him to answer the question.

“We confirmed that the proficiency of the kingdom’s magical troops had improved considerably compared to before.”

“Thought so, yeah.”

Lox shot Gilles a sharp look. “What has this got to do with Arcus Raytheft?”

“They say he’s the one who made whatever it is makin’ them magicians so strong. Not managed to dig out more than that.”

“It’s that tool of his, isn’t it?”

Gilles’s eyebrows shot up. “Y’know somethin’?”

“I know there is a tool of some kind. I did not know who made it, and I certainly did not expect it to be him.”

“I gotcha. Guess y’got this story pinned down more than I have.”

“I should like to know where you came across this information.”

“Now there’s a question. Y’know the secrets I keep cost way more than my wares.” Gilles guffawed, sidestepping Lox’s inquiry.

“I would like more information, Gilles. How much?”

“Sorry, lady. This info ain’t for sale.”

“Are you sure? You would be making quite the profit.”

“Yeah, I know. But Arcus is my best bud, y’know? ’N’ my heart’s pure as the melted snow up on the Cross Mountains. ’S no way I’m gonna rat him out!”

“You’ve already told us quite enough that I believe it counts as ‘ratting him out.’”

“Naw, this much’s fine.”

“I wonder about that.”

“I just came to tell y’this stuff ’cause y’always treat me so nice. Didn’t seem to faze y’much, though.”

Meifa let out a noncommittal hum.

“Welp, me ’n’ Arcus’re gonna go get fired up in some business negotiations.” Gilles rearranged his knapsack and hopped once. Waving at the pair, he opened the door to the throne room and slipped out.

“Send a messenger to the Kingdom’s order ceremony as planned. Give them a letter and a gift to congratulate them for their victory.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Meifa rested her head on her hand once more, and closed her eyes as though drifting off to sleep.

The central throne room was awash with dazzling color. Jewelry set with gold and silver gemstones covered every surface, the carpet was woven with high-grade fabric from the maritime nation of Granciel, and a sheer silk veil hung down from the ceiling, acting as a partitioning curtain. The potted plants—pineapple-like specimens imported from the southern Hanai Archipelago—lent an exotic air to the room, and stones mounted with iridescent crystals limned the silhouettes in the room with wavering light. Mysterious aromas rose up from oil lamps, adding to the fantastical atmosphere that enveloped the whole room. For a throne room, it was almost too splendorous—the whole place lacked majesty.