The Editor Is the Novel’s Extra

What to do

Geheim’s body, no longer breathing, vanished like the corpse of the demon, scattering red dust around them. Only the blood left on Kleio’s hand seemed to prove Geheim had ever existed. The three boys sat in silence for a moment. Then, Fran’s gray eyes flared behind his glasses.

“What more do you know about this? You’ll have to explain it right.”

Kleio, his ether worn down and ready to collapse, couldn’t afford to answer Fran. He felt blood trickling down the back of his throat as he gritted his teeth. Just seeing the message of Promise made his head ache. Arthur, noticing Kleio’s condition, quickly moved to support him.

“What I can tell you is that I, too, have been attacked by those red-eyed assassins over the past year, and only very recently did those attacks stop.”

After hearing Arthur’s brief explanation, Fran bit his lip tightly to suppress his desire to ask more questions.

“…If so, the one who tried to kill Geheim and did such an experiment to create the Hydra Poison may not be a villain that the police or the Defense Forces can capture.”

“Yes.”

Arthur had a bitter smile. Before the police or the Defense Force knights can take control, they had to determine whether they were in collusion or not. Fran, quick to notice that, began to speak, but the subspace around them began to deteriorate before he could let out a sound.

[Unique skill: Foreground]

[―Remaining time/time limit:

00:00:01/00:30:00]

The three were back in the dusty tool closet. The door opened above them roughly.

“Here! There are survivors!”

.

.

.

Sometimes, even his trash stamina could benefit him. From the moment the police discovered them, Kleio had several nosebleeds. At the scene of an unprecedented incident in which a singer had been attacked during the performance, they found the prince of the kingdom, the youngest son of the Asel family, and the eldest son of a count. The reality was he was a bloody leftist, but at least that was his appearance on the outside.

‘Well, society is good when it comes to those benefits.’

The police took Kleio and his party to school at Arthur’s imposing request, not even stopping to ask for their testimony. The three had a good chance to match their stories as they waited in the infirmary for Zebedee. Fran turned to Arthur first.

“I’m sure the police aren’t capable of solving the case. The bodies of the assassins will be handed over to the Defense Force, but can they dig anything out of it?”

“No, from what I’ve seen, the etheric levels of those red-eyed assassins are temporary. After death, they appear like normal humans.”

Fran didn’t ask how they had learned that. Rather, the conclusion was already obvious.

“Let’s cover it first.”

“Francis, there are times when we agree.”

“Don’t talk and listen carefully. There will be witnesses who will say that you jumped onto the stage to save the soprano, and Asel cured her. Wrap it up as the heroic actions of a student from the Defense Force.”

Arthur nodded as Fran spoke low and quickly.

“The police know that we were running around the theater, so you can tell them that we were running around looking for clues and heard the turmoil. While blocking Geheim, unidentified assassins suddenly attacked, and while Geheim fought them, we hid.”

“Then, they won’t find Geheim’s whereabouts from us.”

“Right. But they’ll have a lot to ask, so don’t think of getting away.”

“Alright, from now on, let’s try our best to become outstanding students of the Defense Force.”

“Damn, somehow, this guy…”

Fran agreed with Arthur while clicking his tongue. It was a usually futile combination, but when focused, they were a force to be reckoned with.

“Lei, did you hear? They, let’s get it right.”

Kleio nodded, leaning against the bed. Shortly after, Zebedee, who ran with the wind, cured the three boys while making a fuss. The captain, sent directly by Lundane’s security chief to hear their testimony, waited for them to receive treatment. Meanwhile, the eastern sky began to brighten. It was a long night.

***

Two weeks passed following the incident, Kleio provided the inside story to Isiel, Cel, and the twins. The serial killings around the opera theater had stopped entirely. The police didn’t admit that Geheim was connected to the previous murders, in defiance of Fran’s report. Geheim was, however, wanted for the attempted murder of the soprano Lily-Rose. It was a warrant that would never be resolved.

.

.

.

Following those crazy days, Fran, Arthur, and Kleio were the first to meet up together.

“The police tried to cover up the existence of the serial murders. At first, I thought it was to hide their incompetence, but at this point, I have doubts there isn’t some political pressure. Which one is it?”

“I’m thinking of investigating that from now on. A prince is a prince, so we can squeeze something out of them.”

Kleio filled in the missing pieces.

“And the Defense Forces should also be investigated.”

All the byproducts that had appeared from the beast had been recovered by the Defense Force, with the exception of the mana stones. The ‘new sample’ Geheim had heard about was

“It wouldn’t be difficult to enlist a wizard or two to acquire the demon’s blood. Had they used a new sample to complete the Hydra’s Poison, they would no longer have to mass-produce incomplete, red-eyed assassins.”

“To think I was a trash-can for their experiments. It’s terrible.”

Hearing Arthur’s murmur, Kleio meticulously formed a [Soundproofing][Shielding] formula around them once more. Although Fran’s room was in a remote place, he didn’t want to take any chances. Three weeks had passed since the incident, so Fran must’ve had enough time to think. He reached the point right away.

“The queen and the prince?”

“Does it make sense to separate them?”

“It does. We’ll be able to figure out where to dig into.”

“The answer will put you in danger. Fran, stop at this point.”

“Don’t bullshit! I must reveal the truth, for the innocents who have died!”

Fran struck the table, irritated. Arthur, unshaken, responded as calmly as before.

“From your political standpoint, the ruling class and the princes must be overthrown eventually. From here on, it’s the realm of my battle, and for you, it’s just a battle for your own interest.”

Fran turned pale at Arthur’s words.

“Francis Gabriel Hyde-Wight, I, Arthur Riognan, speak with faith. I also want to disclose the truth and want to reveal it. For those who have died unjustly. As far as my abilities will reach, I will definitely do that.”

“Riognan…”

“But I don’t have clear evidence that Aslan has done anything and under no authority to investigate. This isn’t something I can achieve in a day or two, and it’s not going to be just a year or two. So, I’m sorry, but please wait.”

Fran looked terrified as he glanced back and forth, his jaw bulging. After a while, he spoke again.

“…If I come to you with solid evidence, can you make them pay for their sins?”

“That’s what I will do. But you have your own ideas to pursue. You don’t have to go back on your ways because of me.”

Fran was an intelligent boy.

‘His goal is to get rid of them, whether it’s Aslan or Arthur. He should try to establish a republic as it is.’

It was unbelievable that he was told by a member of the royal family to continue to pursue his revolutionary ideals, but the boy laughed in vain as he might fall.

“The three princes of the Albion kingdom are completely cursed.”

“Hahaha. Well, I hear that often.”

Arthur smiled with his mouth wide open.

“Are you not afraid of experiencing the same fate as the royalty of the Carolinger kingdom?”

“If the people are willing, wouldn’t we have to accept such an ending? It is the result of reigning as a king. Thinking the rule that everything in the world requires a price doesn’t apply to nobility is a naïve conclusion.”

Fran stopped and stared at Arthur, who met his gaze. Kleio knew even without turning on Perception that something had moved in that moment.

[―User’s narrative involvement increases.

Cumulative rate: 29.7%]

‘Huh, will it rise just by observing?’

In order not to disturb the two, Kleio wondered if he should perform the [Soundproofing][Shielding] magic for the third time.

‘It’s an almost majestic atmosphere…’

Promise took its name from the muse of history. Here, he was watching the progress of the narrative that would be named as history for many others. It was a task inherent to history to find associations between separate events and to point at a cause in the past, granting an order to successive events.

‘If Arthur has a biography written of him in the future, this scene will be treated as important.’

Arthur was keen on the trend of the times. It may be that he understood instinctively that the future of the world would reach a point that wasn’t for kings and princes. He would be a great king, but he had a foreboding that he wouldn’t be the king of an eternal dynasty.

‘This story refers to the original world, so it’s only natural. Even if magic heals wounds and swordsmen can hit harder than a cannonball, the conditions to continue the monarchy can’t be created.’

Why did the author conceive a story of the war between princes in such a period of time? While Kleio was lost in thought, the two boys remained silent. Finally, Fran scattered that long silence.

“I don’t support you. I’m just helping temporarily because revealing the truth is more important. Speak in good faith; I will find you clear evidence of their sins.”

Unless they killed everyone involved, there was evidence to be found if they looked hard enough.

‘Though the process will be difficult…’

Fran was determined, but Arthur tried to deter him.

“Francis, you are already responsible for another job.”

“I’m no longer with the Flag. I’ve gotten more attention than necessary, so now is the time to head underground.”

“!!!”

“But with the rest of my comrades, I’ll help you investigate the victims.”

Fran’s words were a mix of half resignation and determination. The comrades who needed to be saved were, and everyone else was removed.

“I don’t know if I deserve your faith, but I’ll do the best I can.”

Arthur had a serious expression. He knelt down on one knee, putting his hand over his heart. Even on the cloudy winter day, Arthur’s dark golden hair glowed like a halo. Even Fran stopped for a moment as Arthur’s power was on display. It was a form of persuasion that surpassed reason, all based on a simple gesture.

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