NOVPUBAmong the nobility, the tale of the First Princess’s shadow was quite well known.
After Marquess Teppern—the de facto head of the military—was mysteriously killed in his own fortress-like estate, his military faction splintered into pieces.
But the sharp-witted nobles didn’t miss where that power eventually ended up.
‘That would be the First Princess, Aileen von Exilion.’
Freuden couldn’t help but sneer inwardly.
Officially, Teppern’s death was attributed to natural causes due to old age, but no one truly believed that.
That was likely the turning point.
The moment when the First Princess, who had talent but lacked loyal subordinates, began to truly reveal her capabilities.
With overwhelming charisma and a razor-sharp mind, the First Princess skillfully manipulated the nobles, gradually interfering in financial affairs and succeeding in things even the current Emperor had failed to do.
Even the nobles who had once regarded her with suspicion had no choice but to pledge their loyalty in the face of her ironclad will.
It wasn’t just her competence—it was also because they knew what happened to those who tried to oppose her.
The First Princess, whom everyone had once thought powerless, possessed a dagger sharper than anything else.
And that dagger lurked quietly in her shadow, waiting to be wielded.
One wrong word, one slight misstep, and that blade could suddenly appear at your throat.
Naturally, the nobles were terrified.
Can’t you just defend yourself?
Her opponent was the very person who killed Marquess Teppern.
A man so paranoid that he maintained ironclad security even while eating, because of the many enemies he had made.
And yet, he died.
Not while out in the open, but in what was supposed to be the safest place of all—his own estate, his own room.
His corpse was found alongside the bodies of his most loyal guards.
It was only natural that the Princess’s shadow came to reign as a source of fear among the nobility.
There hadn’t been any new sightings of that shadow since that incident, but all the nobles knew the truth.
If she wished, the First Princess could draw that dagger from the shadows at any moment.
And so, without interference from anyone, Aileen von Exilion slowly and methodically expanded her power, eventually securing her place as an unshakable absolute ruler that no one could defy.
Having heard the entire story, Rine couldn’t help but be shocked.
She’d always heard people say the First Princess was dangerous and terrifying, but as a commoner, she’d never had any idea there was this much behind it.
It suddenly became clear why Erendir, despite being a princess, was treated the way she was.
“Senior... you’ve really been through a lot.”
“You’re the only one who truly understands me, Rine!”
Erendir hugged Rine tightly with a moved expression. Rine squirmed like she was suffocating.
Freuden sighed and intervened.
“That’s enough. Rine looks uncomfortable.”
“Hmph! That’s not true, right, Rine?”
“Y-yes~.”
“See! She says she’s fine!”
“...Haa.”
Freuden felt a headache coming on.
At the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder—how on earth had Rine gotten close to that stubborn Princess?
He was well aware that Third Princess Erendir had failed countless times to make friends at Seorn, but that didn’t mean she just latched onto anyone.
Given Rine’s personality, she’d be a good match for Erendir in terms of getting along, but still...
‘...How did Rine manage to approach the Third Princess?’
Normally, a commoner wouldn’t even be able to look a princess in the eye, much less speak to her.
Even in Seorn, where everyone was supposedly equal, the remnants of the class system remained—and Erendir wasn’t just a noble, but royalty.
Just saying hello to her would’ve been a challenge.
‘Or maybe... not entirely?’
Thinking back, when Rine had first met him, she had been nervous, sure—but she had still answered every question sincerely.
Realizing that now made him let out a bitter chuckle.
“Let’s not drag this on. The food’s going cold.”
“Ah! You’re right. Let’s eat first and talk after!”
“...So it suits your taste, then?”
“Hmph. I suppose I have to admit it. The Ulburk family’s chefs are quite skilled.”
That was my cooking, actually.
Freuden didn’t say it aloud. It was one thing that they had discovered he tended the flowerbeds—but he wasn’t ready for them to know he cooked, too.
And so, the meal resumed.
Unlike the earlier silence between Freuden and Rine, now Rine and Erendir chatted away cheerfully.
Erendir, naturally, led the conversation.
Freuden, slightly saddened by how noisy his once-quiet refuge had become, decided to let it slide, finding it oddly satisfying in its own way.
Before long, Erendir’s stories reached the topic of the Kunst incident.
“You have no idea how terrible it was at the Kunst Auction.”
“What?! Wait, senior—you were caught up in that incident?!”
“Oh?”
Freuden, who had only been half-listening, suddenly perked up with interest.
Erendir seized the chance and launched into a dramatic recounting of what happened that day.
When she got to the part about the monster from Jévaudan, Rine inhaled sharply.
“It was truly horrific. It looked like it had crawled up from hell itself. Beast heads all over its body, and the three main heads let out this dreadful roar...”
That part wasn’t exaggerated in the slightest—it was all true.
Even now, Erendir could vividly remember the scene every time she closed her eyes.
“Sometimes I still can’t believe I survived.”
“But I’m so glad you’re okay, senior.”
Hearing that, Erendir felt her heart pound.
A friend—her first friend—was listening earnestly and worrying about her.
This, right here, was the academy life she had always dreamed of.
“So what happened to the monster? Was it really killed? Or did it escape? I heard the knights defeated it—is that true?”
“Ah, that...”
Erendir hesitated.
It was officially announced that the monster from Jévaudan had been defeated by the Rederbelk-based Clockwork Knights.
But in reality, it had been taken down by a man named James Moriarty.
And that name was still being kept under wraps.
Because Casey Selmore didn’t want it known.
—Your Highness. The truth behind this case must not be revealed yet.
—...Are you telling me I should keep the truth hidden?
—I understand how you feel. Following one’s sense of justice is commendable. But Your Highness, the current climate is dangerous. Look.
After the incident, the Kunst Auction Hall had become a wasteland.
Injured people. Civilians still trembling in fear.
—People are scared. If they learn ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ that the one who defeated the monster is a newly emerged criminal figure, their fear will only grow.
—So you’re saying the best way to calm the public is to claim the knights handled it, rather than the actual culprit?
—Sometimes, a comfortable lie is better than a painful truth.
Erendir had no counterargument. Even she had to admit—it was the only viable option in this situation.
—And if rumors about James Moriarty and his organization spread, they’ll just sink deeper into the shadows. We’ll never find them again.
—...I understand. I won’t speak of it.
—Thank you.
Recalling that conversation, Erendir gave Rine her answer without hesitation.
“Of course. The Clockwork Knights of Rederbelk took care of it.”
Even as she said it, her conscience ached—but it couldn’t be helped.
She had planned to keep it vague and move on, but suddenly remembered something.
“Oh, right! Now that I think of it, I’m pretty sure I saw Professor Ludger at the auction that day.”
From afar—and only in passing—Erendir couldn’t be completely certain, but she was convinced there was no way she’d fail to recognize that distinct presence.
“Huh? Professor Ludger?”
“Ludger Cherish?”
Neither of the two listening had expected that name to come up in this conversation. Their interest was instantly piqued.
“Mm. I’m pretty sure it was him. That unique aura of his is impossible to hide.”
“But why would Professor Ludger be at a place like that?”
“Well, there’s no real reason a professor can’t go somewhere like that, right? I mean, he showed up to work just fine afterward, so maybe he just stopped by briefly and left early.”
“Still... it just doesn’t seem to fit.”
“You think so?”
“Yes. Professor Ludger doesn’t strike me as someone who’d be interested in luxury goods or jewelry.”
It was true—he did give off that impression.
But Erendir wasn’t quick to agree with Rine’s comment.
After all, a person’s surface didn’t always reflect what lay beneath.
“Come to think of it, Rine, didn’t you get a framework evaluation from Professor Ludger? How was it?”
“Oh, that? Surprisingly, it wasn’t anything special.”
“Didn’t he call you aside before, too? During the Elemental Manifestation practice?”
That was when Freuden, who had been quietly listening to their exchange, cut in.
“Wait a moment, Rine. Are you saying that teacher Ludger personally summoned you?”
“She did,” Erendir replied on Rine’s behalf, puffing up. “You have no idea how worried I was about her at the time.”
Freuden’s gaze shifted toward Rine’s school bag.
He was suddenly reminded of the book she had tried to hide from him when they first met.
That book... I thought it looked familiar.
A vague recollection tugged at the edge of his mind—he felt like he was just on the cusp of remembering something.
Then Rine spoke up.
“Oh, by the way, did you guys know? Apparently, there’s this thing called a magazine that’s become really popular among the students lately.”
“A magazine? Ah! I think I’ve heard of that.”
Rine pulled it out of her bag with a flourish and showed it to them.
Freuden’s gaze momentarily flicked toward the bag again, but once Rine presented the magazine with a triumphant “Ta-da!”, he had no choice but to look at it.
The magazine was exactly what it sounded like—a thin booklet filled with various content.
Its cover was cluttered with garish illustrations, and in bold letters, it read: Issue No. 1.
“What is that?” Freuden asked.
Rine beamed and answered, “It was recently published in Rederbelk. It’s not an official publication, so it’s pretty thin, but it’s filled with really fascinating stuff.”
“Fascinating content?”
“Oh my. Don’t tell me you, Freuden, haven’t even heard of the student-popular magazine making waves lately?”
Erendir grinned as if she’d finally found a chance to get one over on him. Freuden groaned and shook his head.
He hadn’t noticed it before, but now that her formal demeanor had faded, the Third Princess’s true personality was proving exhausting to deal with.
“So, what exactly is this glorious ‘magazine’ of yours supposed to be?”
“Think of it as a book filled with miscellaneous stories. Like a newspaper, but with all kinds of tidbits crammed into it.”
“Then how is it any different from a newspaper?”
“Oh, it’s very different. Newspapers are usually run by publishing companies, so they often distort facts or present things to suit their agenda. But this magazine approaches stories with a more neutral perspective. That means the people behind it really put in the effort to keep it balanced.”
“That’s it?”
“Of course not. The real reason this magazine is getting so much buzz is because of the short stories featured in the latter half!”
Freuden gave an indifferent shrug, unimpressed.
But unlike his reaction, those short stories were enjoying quite a boom among the students.
Most published books on the market were either overly formal or so verbose and complex that even nobles—who tried to read them out of a sense of duty—often gave up halfway.
It was the same with literature.
But the short stories in the magazine were the opposite.
They were brief, crisp, and fast-paced—praised for being easy and fun to read.
Recently, even noble students had started reading them one by one after hearing the rumors, and their popularity was rising rapidly.
Compared to convoluted literary works, these simple, intuitive stories were far more entertaining.
And some of them ended right at the climactic moment—leaving readers desperate for the next issue.
These days, it’s always something, Freuden thought. Maybe I should give it a read too.
He filed away his thoughts on the magazine for later.
Then, suddenly, a name came to mind, and his brow furrowed.
Ludger Cherish.
That name had been cropping up a lot lately.
The only time he’d seen the man in person was at the dueling arena—and even then, from a distance. He hadn’t paid much attention at the time.
The one thing that stuck in his memory was that Ludger Cherish gave off an intensely solemn vibe.
Until now, he hadn’t thought much of it.
But hearing that name mentioned so often recently made him mentally revisit the image of Ludger’s face.
And then...
He found himself overlapping it with a face he’d seen before—somewhere.
That professor... I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere else before...
Freuden’s gaze sharpened.
