The Editor Is the Novel’s Extra

Kuaahhhhh!

A crimson ether swirled around the boy, roaring. Rosa’s gray hair fluttered wildly in the wind, one version of her covering Arthur while another Rosa defeated Pierce’s alter egos. She cut off one’s hamstrings, pushed a blade through another’s ribs, and stabbed the third in the neck, causing all three to scatter into gray ether quickly. It was at an unbelievable speed that deceived the eyes. Cel grabbed Isiel, who tried to jump in to protect her lord, even though her own life would be in danger. Rosa swung her sword in the midst of a bright red ether.

“Pierce, how the hell did you get so low?!”

It was the first time in twenty-seven years that Rosa spoke plainly to Pierce. In this urgent situation, her normal tone came out. Pierce, whose sword was forced lower by her, frowned without a drop of sweat.

“What are you saying… Ugh!”

Pierce hurriedly clasped his head, looking like he was being electrocuted as a headache rocked his mind.

“Those days, you weren’t vile enough to persecute a child. Yet this…!”

Pierce felt a strange sense of stupidity as a wave of déjà vu washed over him. This same scene seemed to happen before when she put herself before him to protect someone she thought was innocent. The emotion in her eyes was clear anger as he looked at her, unable to remove his own gaze from the old and glorious knight. However, Rosa had no personal relationship with Pierce; she was just a leader who had lost her position. Pierce ignored the confusing emotions as he pretended to be calm, despite the war of memories heating up his head.

“Professor Rosa, I will not rebuke your rudeness. I, too, went a little rough.”

“…”

“But, how can you become a knight of the kingdom only when you fuss about a minor flesh wound? You’re too protective.”

Pierce raised his ether, flicking Arthur’s blood from his sword before he sheathed it. Arthur’s wounds weren’t as shallow as Pierce claimed. Her lips pressed tightly together; Rosa stared at Pierce with her remaining eye. Arthur could plainly see that she was struggling with her anger as she crossed her arms.

“Professor, just a moment, please.”

Arthur stood up quickly, putting himself between the two swordmasters.

“Thank you, Sir Pierce. It was a good lesson.”

Then, he flashed a smile, making it look like a flawless finish at first glance. The battle ended with the appearance that the third prince was taught by the knight commander. As expected, the swordmaster Pierce overwhelmed the third prince, but this work brought him no joy. Pierce glanced at the stands, where there were sparse attendants now, and even Aslan’s seat was empty. He didn’t have any more time to spend on such frivolous things.

“Well, let’s see each other again. May you work hard.”

The snowfall grew stronger as Pierce turned to the waiting attendants with his cloak. Arthur, who remained standing, fell like a puppet with cut strings as soon as he moved out of sight. Isiel was the first by his side, followed quickly by Zebedee, who had heard the news, and the out of breath Kleio.

It was a day of constant blizzarding.

***

A week later, a graduation ceremony was held. The snow that began to fall on the day of the finals didn’t stop until the ceremony. Some of the students who hadn’t yet returned home to the unusually heavy snowfall paralyzing carriage traffic in Albion had stayed at the school or gone out to pubs in the city to drink. Among such students were Arthur, Cel, Kleio, and Fran.

Lundane, with the festival of lights right before them, had a thrilling atmosphere about it, both east and west of the river. Drunkards sang on the snowy roads, and the shops were lit up brightly until late into the night. At an expectedly noisy pub, Cel was seated with arms crossed at a corner table.

“Hey, sit down and drink. Don’t bother about escorting.”

Arthur tried to stand up, but long legs stretched out to block him.

“Hey! What about an escort? I just came out to drink.”

“Isiel went alone, right?”

The snow had piled up outside of Lundane as well, and it was said that an avalanche had occurred in the Kision estate, so Isiel had rushed back to the estate to help her father. Although he had a male son, Viscount Kision had always treated Isiel as his successor, and she was quick to hurry back. Arthur was planning to stay in the school dormitory for a few more days, on the other hand, until he fully recovered. The trauma inflicted by Pierce was something even Zebedee’s magic couldn’t heal all at once. To make matters worse, Arthur’s condition was worse due to ether depletion.

Arthur had been bed-ridden for three days after that, despite his usual strength and stamina. The Angellium twins had returned to their estate, so Cel, who was based in the capital, took Isiel’s place. Of course, Arthur had said they were worrying too much.

“Now assassins aren’t knocking on my door every night!”

“There are still a lot of people who want to stab you once. At the graduation ceremony today, Ras could only think of your face. Even after obtaining a senior graduation certificate, he was furious with you.”

“Well, now he’s an apprentice knight of the glorious capital defense knights.”

“Do you know the honor of those knights? There’s one in particular who won’t hold back even against students.”

“When we graduate, we’ll end up in compulsory service anyway, but it was harsh.”

Cel chewed over Arthur’s words before snatching a glass from Kleio’s hand as he carried two pints of dark beer to the table.

“Hey, it’s overflowing. Lei, give me that.”

“There are too many people.”

“Yeah. What kind of conversation are you having in this noisy place?”

Fran, who followed Kleio, slumped two more pints on the table with a worried expression. Arthur grabbed one for himself.

“Thank you, Fran!”

“I just carried them; Asel bought them.”

“He has a lot of money, but he tells me to buy the drinks.”

“I’m not getting a pension by paying for your liquor, Arthur.”

“Well, let’s say this is congratulations that you’re the top magic score.”

“Anyway, the total ranking is 10th.”

Besides Arthur, most of them had barely crossed the failing point. The subject of swordsmanship, which had grown more difficult, had become a problem for Kleio, affecting his average score. Of course, it didn’t matter since his grades were no longer at stake. Exemption from compulsory service was based on the ranking of the practical courses as a fourth-year, so he didn’t have to worry about it right now. Rather, the most worrying thing now was Fran, who took an indefinite leave of absence. Cel and Arthur were scrambling to find a way to leave for a moment, so Arthur said he was heading to the bathroom, and Cel followed.

“Are you going to follow me to the bathroom?”

“There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Hey!”

With that, Kleio had a chance to say what he wanted.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, thanks.”

Fran, who had laid down his position in the Flag, had no more reasons to attend the Defense Force school. Kleio had transcribed everything he read in the 1793 journal in the King’s library, including the contents of Ezra’s stylus, and handed it over to Fran alone.

‘The one person who will never abuse it is this kid.’

After collecting the data, Fran decided to uncover the background of the human experimentations into the red ether as soon as the heat died down, so he was headed for the city of Pesseln. That was the place where the deceased opera singer Geheim claimed he had been kidnapped. Apparently, there were union members Fran could reach there.

“If you need anything, please contact me through the mailbox without delay.”

“Yes, Asel. You can spend some money.”

“Yes, so don’t worry about it. Save your troubles and spend money if it can solve your problems. Don’t do anything too dangerous.”

“I know you’re worried about me, but why does it sound so unlucky when you say it?”

“Well, do you think it is capital achieved by exploiting people?”

“Ha.”

Fran emptied his pint quickly, and Kleio followed a second after. The quality dark beer started flowing through his veins and warmed him, making him feel a little better.

“Fran, in your eyes, I’m the son of a capitalist clinging to an illusion of monarchy.”

Fran grabbed his empty cup with narrow eyes. It seemed like he couldn’t even imagine what Kleio was saying.

‘It’s nice that this guy’s expression is easy to understand.’

“Someday, there may be an era when republicanism becomes the main identity of the world, but it will be difficult for that to take root in Albion right now.”

No matter how small, a ship with a hole would sink. Fran knew that better than Kleio.

“I know that the three-way system is by no means a complete solution, but this land cannot be the Republic of Carolinger or Krater. Our revolution isn’t red, and that’s not bad. Is blood necessary for progress? Isn’t a slow step still a step?”

“…You speak the same things as Robert.”

Robert, who suffered from the great purge of Carolinger’s dictator Victoire Morrow, must’ve distanced himself from radicalism.

“In fact, I think the possibility of a bloody revolution in this country is very low, and I think that’s fortunate. I don’t want a history that demands life as if for granted.”

‘Looking at it, the author modeled Albion after a country that didn’t have a revolution in modern times. It means that Fran will have a long path in the future… Please work hard with the union organization.’

It was something hard for Fran to imagine, but Kleio saw it off in the future.

‘The National Socialist Workers Party had gained power through elections!’

He remembered the contents of the supplementary textbook for his modern European history class, which seemed vague even through Memory.

‘The world’s progress is good, but… As much as possible, I want nothing major to happen while I’m here.’

That was why he bought land and wanted to settle down. Fran, who considered it for a while, opened his mouth after a time.

“You were the one who lives with that ideal.”

“I’m thrilled you know that now.”

“If you were just one of the conformists, I wouldn’t have bothered with you.”

“I know, but it’s okay to trust the guy I’ve chosen.”

“…I’ll watch and think.”

“Then, another drink?”

“I’ll take another dark beer.”

“It’s good.”

Arthur, who arrived back at the table, raised his hand.

“Oh! I’ll have another one too! Dark beer!”

What had Arthur done? His hair was turned upside down, and his clothes were mottled with snow and mud.

‘What happened to you?’

Cel, following after Arthur, complained as well.

“The just prince couldn’t bear to see a lady troubled by drunks, and, though it was hard on his body, saved her…”

“I see.”

“In the end, I did the work, but Arthur got the thanks.”

“Hey! If you’re a knight, you can’t leave stuff like that.”

“I don’t mean to let it go, but you were vomiting blood just yesterday!”

Cel flicked the back of Arthur’s head.

“To treat the injured like this…”

“Drink some more. Yes, if you pass out, I’ll drag you back to the dorm.”

“That’s a good idea. Then, I’ll buy the next cup! Cel will have dark beer too. What about you, Lei and Fran?”

“I’m the same.”

Fran replied a beat late.

“Dark beer for me too.”

“Yes, four glasses! I’ll bring it all at once, look!”

Cel, forced to escort Arthur, collapsed in her seat.

“What can you even do with that skill? Become a bartender?”

“You don’t know when such a trick will be useful!”

Fran’s gaze was fixed on Arthur as he headed towards the bar. Kleio laughed, and Fran turned to him with a frown. In the end, this kid also had to reevaluate Arthur. Then, Clio’s Promise began to shine.

[―User’s narrative involvement increases.

Cumulative rate: 30%]

[Bound Item: Clio’s Promise]

[―With the increase of the narrative intervention degree, the Bind Item function will be opened.

*The utilization rate of the belonging function is proportional to the narrative involvement.]