「UTILITY MAGIC DEPARTMENT — PRIVATE SUITE」
D-DAY!
AN HOUR BEFORE THE CEREMONY
The common sitting room had grown quiet after G6 finished explaining the Queen's request. All three were already dressed in their adventuring attire, but neither man appeared ready to regard the morning as the beginning of another ordinary assignment.
Lord Zen sat opposite her, his astonishment gradually giving way to disapproval. Edmund remained beside him, visibly uncomfortable for a different reason.
"So… the reason Her Majesty has been so complacent toward you is that you are a wielder of the mythical affinity, Cryomancy?"
G6 had kept the bargain from both men until that morning. Explaining it had required her to tell Lord Zen something the Queen, Leo, Edmund, Tina, and Lilia already knew—and something Daunt had since learned as well. His lessons in Mana Form had exposed him to an unfamiliar discipline, but they had given him no reason to identify the separate affinity concealed within his captain.
"I am quite knowledgeable about the hearsay surrounding Cryomancy," Lord Zen continued. "One can find replica texts on the subject in Omnia. But to think…"
He stopped, then looked directly at her.
"Never mind that. Why would the Queen ask you to 'clean up'? Has she finally lost her touch? Must she now drag you into their political world?"
"I find it amusing, too. She doesn't really know if I'm capable. She's just following speculation and a hunch based on that book and her observation of me. Pretty brave, no?"
"Lady Reise," Edmund interjected, "you said the mythical affinity requires cleansing to rank up, correct?"
"Yes. That's the gist according to that book she gave me."
Lord Zen's attention lingered on her. Among the accounts he had encountered was a recurring claim that death and rebirth preceded the acquisition of Cryomancy. He had understood it as ancient theory, the sort of passage scholars argued over because no living practitioner could answer their questions.
Now G6 sat before him, discussing it with the same indifference she brought to most inconveniences.
Did Lady Reise… perhaps die once? Lord Zen wondered.
The question remained unspoken. Whatever the texts meant, this was not the moment to mistake an inference for an answer.
"Captain, do not trust the Queen too much. After all, she remains a woman upon the seat of power."
"Isn't it thanks to that seat that you were able to reclaim your rights and now roam freely around the Collegium?"
"I was grateful for Her Majesty's assistance. However, it became transactional the moment she demanded something in return."
Lord Zen's voice cooled.
"That gratitude has since vanished. I merely see her as a person to whom I owe a debt. I have never trusted her."
"Hmm. Amusing."
G6 leaned back in her chair.
"You're quite smart, Zero. No wonder she had her eyes on you. Anyway, cleaning out some pests isn't that bothersome."
"I do not understand you, Captain."
Lord Zen studied the composed face across from him.
"I will not ask why you are so unrestrained in the act of killing. I can tell you are not the type of person who harms others without valid reason. You may be known as a sheltered and spoiled noble, but I have always believed every person has their own story…"
"However?" G6 asked.
G6's expression had not changed. The prompt made him lower his gaze briefly, considering whether to continue, before he met her eyes again.
"What is your purpose, Captain—no, Lady Reise? Why are you so restless? Why do you act so… occupied, in a way that is almost too chaotic to follow? I do not understand why you go out of your way to venture. It feels new to you, and yet it does not truly seem to amuse you."
Edmund said nothing. He had followed her beyond the palace, fought beside her, and accepted a place at her side without finding a satisfactory answer to the same question.
G6 remained seated through a long silence. Then she rose and walked to the window, where sunlight spread across the floor beneath her boots. She folded her arms and leaned her head against the frame.
"Life as a noble, all of this… it feels suffocating. So, every time I walk outside these massive palace walls, I feel free. I also want to know what's out there. I'm looking for something, even though I don't know what it is."
Neither her face nor her voice offered much feeling.
"At least, that's what I keep telling myself."
She turned toward the two men.
"I was never taught how to rest. I only knew one purpose for my living, and in the blink of an eye, I was stripped of it. I've been trying to find a new one, but the truth is, I have no plan to change that old purpose, either. It's too late to look another way. It's already become my entire being—a part of me that's indispensable. So, instead of looking for a new purpose, I'm just going to continue to live for the old one."
Edmund watched her without moving. She had spoken more plainly than he had expected, yet the explanation left him with no clear picture of the life she meant. What he could see was how little comfort she took from describing it.
What exactly is this purpose that made you this way? Edmund wondered.
Lord Zen remained equally silent. He had asked why she kept searching for something, and she had answered by telling him that she intended to return to what she already knew.
"Don't fret about the Queen using me. She would never fathom what will happen to her, if she is."
The stillness in G6's expression hardened.
"I won't think twice the moment I'm betrayed. Politics? Authority? I don't care about such things. I live by my own rules."
'Live by my own rules'? It means she doesn't care about political fallout, Lord Zen thought.
He released a heavy breath and rubbed the back of his neck. Whatever remained behind her explanation, questioning it further would not change the commission awaiting them.
"So, how do you plan on disposing of this criminal?"
Edmund gave him a small smile. Lord Zen had not offered loyalty or approval, but he was no longer discussing the problem as someone standing entirely outside it.
"Well, I practiced a lot over these two days to perfect this," G6 said. "You'll like it, too."
"Captain, you are not thinking of openly attacking with your Wind affinity, are you?" Edmund asked.
"Of course not. The Three Pillars will be present. I won't do anything that could point a finger at Duke Worthon."
It would be bothersome if it led back to me.
"That is the right call," Lord Zen replied. "So, how will you do it? Will you be coming to the Grand Arena? If so, they are likely all already there."
"Nuh-uh. Do you know the Grand Arena's greatest weakness and the public's hunger for a spectacle?"
Both men shook their heads.
"The arena is wide open to the sky, and their hunger for publication will cost them."
G6's mouth curved.
"Approximately, from the sky, the Grand Arena is one kilometer away from here."
"You are saying… you will attack from the sky?"
"Exactly. Thanks to me being overqualified, it feels like cheating."
She looked through the window again. When she continued, her voice had dropped almost to a whisper.
"Oddly, I always feel this immense prowess came with a greater price."
On the roof above them, Daunt lay with his head raised toward the distant mountains. He had returned from his aerial scouting in time to hear the conversation, and G6's final words reached him through the open window.
Poor soul… I hope you are strong enough to handle it, Daunt thought.
The breeze moved through his fur while the room below fell quiet.
「MAIN PALACE — GRAND ARENA」
THE CEREMONY'S OPENING
The royal dais remained empty as the nobles filled their designated sections. Some greeted their neighbors with the satisfaction of people certain of their place; others watched the entrances, their formal composure unable to conceal every trace of anxiety or resentment.
From the highest seat in the Court House bleachers, Marquess Vinesthorne surveyed the gathering with restrained pleasure.
Ha… To think the King would hand over the criminal so readily, without deeper inquiry… The timing is impeccable, the Marquess thought.
A herald's announcement carried across the arena.
"The Three Pillars have arrived! His Grace, Duke Worthon; His Grace, Duke De Lune; His Grace, Duke Nocturne!"
A single trumpet blast accompanied their entrance. Heads bowed along the three Dukes' route as they crossed toward their seats of honor below the dais.
Marquess Vinesthorne followed them with his eyes, his attention lingering on Duke Worthon.
Once I perfect the artificial mage process within our bloodline… I will dismantle the Worthons first, he thought.
Four trumpet blasts interrupted the murmuring that had begun to return.
"Their Royal Majesties arrive! Accompanied by His Highness the Crown Prince and His Highness the Second Prince!"
The assembly rose. Beneath the rows of bowed heads, the royal procession ascended to the dais, where the King and Queen took their thrones. Crown Prince Amir and Prince Dio remained beside their father.
Once everyone had settled, Setros, Head Justice of the Royal Court, stepped forward.
"Now that all esteemed parties are present, I shall preside over the judgment of the criminal who has held this kingdom in fear, who has slaughtered the innocent without remorse. In the name of God Eldrin, no sin shall be hidden, no lie permitted in this sacred proceeding!"
"Bring forth the criminal," the King commanded.
The gates opened with a low groan. Silver Company escorted the prisoner into the arena, his exhausted frame enclosed in heavy, rune-carved chains. He shuffled between the knights, his eyes moving restlessly over the gathering while his teeth ground together.
"Die. Die. Die."
The word emerged in a guttural rasp, repeated without any apparent acknowledgment of the people watching him.
Crown Prince Amir leaned toward his brother.
"He is utterly lost. And that viper claims he can make him talk?"
"I cannot fathom what Mother is thinking," Prince Dio replied.
Setros continued through the charges, his voice carrying above the prisoner's muttering. The nobles listened until he reached the decision that had drawn so much interest to the ceremony.
"It has been revealed that the criminal is an artificial mage, granted Invisibility through forbidden blood infusion. Given the grave and perilous nature of this blasphemous practice, the Royal Court has ruled to spare the criminal's life until the source of the stolen Neviden blood is uncovered."
The Head Justice turned slightly toward the Court House seats.
"In accordance with this agreement, custody shall be transferred to the Head of the Upper Court House—Marquess Gerard Vinesthorne."
He faced the throne.
"Does Your Majesty concur?"
"I concur."
The King's voice revealed nothing.
"Then let the ceremony proceed. As Head of the Investigation, His Highness Prince Dio Einston shall transfer all authority to the Chief of Silver Company, Rarlen Vinesthorne."
Chief Rarlen stepped forward and knelt before the dais. The smile accompanying his bow was restrained only enough to satisfy the occasion.
Duke Worthon glanced toward the Queen. Duke Nocturne's attention followed, while Duke De Lune made little attempt to disguise his expectation. The princes were watching her as well.
Queen Euphelia kept her posture composed beneath their scrutiny. She had assured them that someone would handle the matter, but G6 had sent no word since accepting the commission. As Setros waited for the next part of the ceremony, the Queen's fingers shifted against the arm of her throne.
"Your Highness, if you would."
Prince Dio descended the dais. A royal attendant followed with a velvet pillow bearing the scroll of decree, and he took it with a reluctance his formal movements did little to conceal.
I do not know your scheme, Mother, Prince Dio thought. But I pray you have not miscalculated.
He stopped before the kneeling Chief.
"I, the Second Prince and Head of the Royal Investigation, hereby transfer all authority in this matter to Chief Rarlen Vinesthorne of the Silver Company."
Across the arena, members of the Vinesthorne faction exchanged looks of scarcely restrained triumph.
This is profoundly wrong, Prince Dio thought as he extended the decree.
「ABOVE THE PALACE GROUNDS」
G6 had watched the opening through her mana-made scope. As Prince Dio began the formal handover, she let the viewing construct dissolve and folded her arms, remaining comfortably settled on Daunt's back.
"Are you enjoying the show, Reise?"
His voice rumbled beneath her.
"Immensely. They're doing the hand-off now. Look at the Queen's face."
A short laugh escaped her.
"She's practically vibrating."
"Sly creature."
Daunt sounded more pleased than reproachful.
G6 unfolded her arms and drew out her mana. Crimson gathered between her hands, taking the familiar shape of the CheyTac she had spent the preceding days refining. Wind settled into the combined application as she brought the finished weapon against her shoulder.
"You know, I drilled this shot for two days straight."
A subtle shift of her weight prompted Daunt to adjust beneath her. She settled behind the rifle's scope.
"What, precisely, is your intended outcome?" he asked.
"Hmm… something memorable."
The arena sharpened within her sight. She could distinguish the Queen's fingers tapping against the throne and Prince Dio releasing the scroll into Chief Rarlen's hands.
Rarlen rose, turned toward the prisoner, and began crossing the short distance between them.
"Alright. Showtime."
The amusement left G6's face. Her shoulders settled, and the small adjustments of her hands stopped as her attention narrowed completely.
Cold gathered at the barrel. Frigid moisture spiraled around its tip, whitening into hoarfrost as she shaped the spell through the weapon. Even Daunt felt a shudder pass through him at the change in her concentration.
She aligned the crosshair on the prisoner's back, over the position of his mana core. A slow smile returned to her mouth.
"Target locked."
G6 pulled the trigger.
Fracture Point left the barrel in a silent, concentrated line of absolute cold. It crossed the distance and pierced the prisoner's back, striking through to the mana core around which the unstable, infused power circulated.
Chief Rarlen was two steps away, one hand half-extended, when the man shattered.
Flesh froze and broke apart with the bone beneath it. The body disintegrated into crystalline fragments, a fine pink mist spreading with the spray of blood and unrecognizable viscera. Gore struck the arena floor for ten feet around the place where the prisoner had stood.
Rarlen took the full force of the spray.
Blood covered his face and silver uniform, carrying fragments of tissue across his chest and sleeves. He recoiled, and his boot came down on something semi-frozen that crushed beneath it with a wet crunch.
For a moment, he could only stare.
A gasp traveled through the nearest rows. Beyond them, nobles rose or drew back in their seats, unable to understand what had happened before the sight forced its meaning upon them.
On the dais, Queen Euphelia had gone white.
The King turned toward her, as did the princes and the three Dukes. The glances lasted scarcely an instant, but she could offer none of them an answer. She had commissioned the death of the prisoner. She had not imagined this happening before the entire court.
Her hands tightened around the arms of her throne.
"INTRUDER! SHIELD THEIR MAJESTIES!"
Duke De Lune's roar cut through the stunned assembly as he moved toward the dais. Prince Dio, who had just turned back after the handover, took the remaining steps and joined Crown Prince Amir before their parents.
The three Dukes formed a defensive line below them.
"FIND THE ASSASSIN!" Duke Worthon commanded.
He raised his hand.
"Whisper of the Gale."
Wind swept through the arena and rose above the walls as he searched for movement, sound, or any trace of the person who had struck.
High above, G6 watched the response with a satisfied smirk.
"I did not anticipate you choosing such… theatrical brutality."
Daunt began a slow banking turn.
"Is this a message for the Queen?"
She lowered the weapon and leaned forward to pat his head.
"Mission accomplished. Let's go."
Daunt released a huff that sounded almost like a sigh. He carried her away from the arena and began descending toward the rendezvous where Edmund and Lord Zen waited.
Wind caught G6's cloak and drew it behind her as the palace shifted beneath them.
Audience impact. That's what makes a performance unforgettable.
「GRAND ARENA」
Chief Rarlen's legs had given way.
He knelt in the blood-darkened sand, holding his hands before him as though he could not recognize them. They trembled violently. When he tried to speak, only a broken whimper emerged.
The metallic scent of blood spread through the arena while the knights searched and Duke Worthon's Wind continued moving overhead.
From the dais, Prince Dio turned his attention from the possible approaches to the place where the prisoner had stood. The attack had been precise enough to kill one man in the middle of the gathering, yet violent enough to leave his body scattered across the ground.
His mother had promised that someone would handle the problem. The outcome answered that promise too closely for him to dismiss the connection.
He looked toward her.
Queen Euphelia met his gaze. The first shock was giving way to comprehension, though it brought little relief.
Was this your message to me, if I did not keep our bargain… G6? the Queen thought.
"This is an outrage!"
Marquess Vinesthorne had risen from his seat.
"A direct attack on the Royal Court itself!"
His anger carried across the arena, sharpened by the destruction of the prize his son had scarcely begun to claim.
The Five Angels approached the dais after their search. Captain Kepler bowed without allowing his attention to remain lowered for long.
"Forgive us, Your Majesty. We can find no sign of an intruder."
"The shot came from above," Duke Worthon said.
His searching Wind dispersed the worst of the lingering haze, but his expression remained grim.
"But the trace… it vanishes. It is as if the wind knows something, and yet knows nothing."
"What is this?"
Duke Nocturne had approached the edge of the carnage, carefully avoiding the scattered remains. He extended a hand above the crystals still visible among them.
They were disappearing without melting, thinning into pale smoke.
"This is not natural frost. This is… a profound absence."
Crown Prince Amir looked from the scene to his parents.
"Mother, Father, it would be wise to retreat inside the palace. If the attack came from above, it is not safe here."
"That is indeed the right decision," Prince Dio agreed.
"I shall escort Their Majesties inside," Captain Kepler offered.
"That would be most appreciated, Captain Kepler."
The King rose and took the Queen with him.
"After you have examined the scene, join me in my study—together with the Three Pillars."
Both princes bowed. Captain Kepler accompanied the monarchs from the exposed dais while the remaining officers continued overseeing the arena.
One of Marquess Vinesthorne's servants reached Rarlen and helped him stand. The Chief submitted without resistance, his blood-soaked hands still trembling as he was led away.
His father approached Duke Nocturne.
"We will be taking the remains…"
"No. You are not."
Crown Prince Amir had descended with Prince Dio and stopped beside the Duke.
"Marquess, the prisoner was killed in the King's presence. The Crown will investigate this attack. Your custody is denied. This is an order."
Marquess Vinesthorne looked from the Crown Prince to his brother. Neither moved aside.
"I understand, Your Highness."
The answer came through clenched teeth. He withdrew, leaving the remains under the attention of the princes and the Pillar heads.
The nobles were ushered from their seats. Their whispers grew as they approached the exits, each frightened account acquiring another speculation before it had left the arena.
Crown Prince Amir looked once more at the blood spread across the ground.
"The one who did this… is no human."
Prince Dio stood beside him in silence.
「KING'S PRIVATE COUNCIL CHAMBER」
The heavy oak door closed behind the last of them, shutting out the movement in the corridor.
Maps and treatises lined the chamber, familiar records of a kingdom whose security had seemed considerably less uncertain before the ceremony. The King stood by the hearth with his back to the room. Crown Prince Amir leaned against the mantel, arms folded, while Prince Dio remained near the window.
The three Pillar heads had taken their seats. Duke Worthon's fingers moved against his chair's arm in a silent, agitated rhythm. Duke Nocturne appeared occupied with what he had examined in the arena, but Duke De Lune watched the Queen without looking away.
She sat with her hands folded too tightly in her lap.
Duke Worthon broke the silence.
"Your Majesty. The… resolution of the criminal. Was this the 'handling' you spoke of in our prior council?"
Everyone turned toward her. The King did not, though his shoulders visibly tightened.
Queen Euphelia drew a slow breath.
She had asked G6 to kill the prisoner. No poison had been discussed, and no discreet method had been agreed upon. Admitting the true terms now would expose the girl and the bargain, leaving the Queen to explain why she had entrusted such a commission to her son's fiancée.
She steadied her voice and chose the lie.
"No. It was not."
Her gaze held Duke Worthon's.
"My intention, as I discussed with the subject I commissioned, was for a subtler intervention. A specialized toxin, administered after the transfer, to degrade the blood's magical viability for study. Slow, untraceable, and deniable."
The memory of Rarlen standing inside the sudden spray of blood interrupted her composure. She moved one hand, unable to finish the gesture.
"This… was not subtle. This was a grotesque public execution."
The King turned from the hearth.
"Then who? And why in such a manner?"
"The 'why' is perhaps clearer than the 'who,'" Duke Nocturne replied. "It was not merely an execution. The body itself appears to have been the target."
He looked toward the princes.
"Blood and tissue remain, but there is no intact subject to examine. Until the remains have been studied, we cannot know what can be learned from them. Such violence may have been intended to make the evidence useless."
Prince Dio turned away from the window.
"You believe it was the source, then. The one who created the artificial mage in the first place."
"It would explain the choice of target."
Duke De Lune brought his fingers together.
"We assumed the mastermind wanted the criminal back to silence him. But what if their greater fear was not his words, but his body? The physical evidence of their blasphemous craft? Our public handover presented a final opportunity to destroy it before the investigation could proceed."
Crown Prince Amir straightened from the mantel.
"Then we may be dealing with an entity—or a faction—with not only heretical knowledge, but access to a mage of terrifying precision. One capable of executing a single shot from a position none of us could locate, with a cold affinity I have never seen recorded."
"A caster who left us no trail I could follow," Duke Worthon added. "It speaks of a profound, and deeply hidden, expertise."
The Queen listened with her heart pounding.
They were assigning the attack to the unknown people behind the blood infusion, drawing the two events together through a motive that made sense to them. It was far more convenient than the truth she had refused to give.
She schooled her face into an expression of grim agreement.
"Then our adversary is even more ruthless and capable than we feared. They are not merely hiding in the shadows. They are willing to strike at the heart of a royal ceremony to protect their secrets."
"Not only are they blasphemous, but to have the audacity to attack before the King…"
Duke De Lune's gaze shifted toward his sovereign.
"Just who is this dangerous entity?"
"It changes everything," the King said. "This is no longer merely a manhunt for a rogue alchemist. It threatens the security of the Crown and the kingdom itself."
His voice grew harder.
"The practice of artificial mage creation is bad enough. If its architects command such power—and are willing to use it so brazenly…"
He left the implication unfinished.
Prince Dio continued watching his mother.
Her horror in the arena had not looked feigned. He could believe that she had not anticipated the method, but the outcome had accomplished precisely what she wanted. The prisoner was dead, the Vinesthornes had lost custody, and the research they intended to conduct had been violently disrupted.
The coincidence was difficult to accept without reservation.
Queen Euphelia met his attention briefly, then looked back toward the King.
"Then our response must be equally serious," Prince Dio said, drawing the room's attention away from her. "We must assume the enemy is within our walls, or at least has eyes upon them. The investigation must continue, but now its primary objective is to find the source of this magic, not just the blood."
"For now, we keep this confidential," the King replied. "And it becomes one of our highest priorities."
His gaze passed over the council.
"Just who do these people think they are, to wreak such havoc in my kingdom?"
The three Dukes acknowledged the order. As the discussion turned toward the investigation and the palace's security, Queen Euphelia allowed herself a shallow breath.
Those responsible for the infusion remained unidentified. Now the council was placing another figure beside them: an unseen caster powerful enough to strike during a royal ceremony and disappear before the kingdom's foremost defenders could find them.
No evidence yet connected the two. The Queen offered no correction.
G6 had fulfilled the commission, but the manner of its completion had created a problem far larger than the prisoner. The immediate questions were turning toward the unknown attacker, giving the Queen room to conceal her own involvement. How long that would protect her—or where the investigation might lead once it began—was another matter.
You chaotic, brilliant, terrifying girl, Queen Euphelia thought. What have you truly set in motion?
Beyond the council chamber, accounts of the carnage were already passing through the palace and into the Capital. The witnesses could describe the shattered prisoner, the blood covering Chief Rarlen, and the royal family withdrawing beneath guard.
None could name the person who had done it.
—To Be Continued…—