Sometimes, absurd rumors spread like wildfire, and they can get quite hefty. Especially when there’s even the tiniest hint of truth behind them.

“The chess depicted in ‘Through the Looking-Glass’ is Harren Kingdom chess! Isn’t this proof that the author Homer is from the Harren Kingdom?!”

“That’s ridiculous! To claim the Empire’s great sage is a Harrenite over something so trivial? Are you out of your mind?”

At first, it was just a joke or some baseless speculation. Honestly, saying someone is from the Harren Kingdom just because of a chess rule is nonsense. But you know how these rumors work; they often start from little jokes like that.

“Thinking back, the mystical vibes in Homer’s literature are pretty similar to Harren Kingdom myths.”

“Exactly! The perspective on the soul in ‘The Sorrows of Young Werther’ perfectly fits when interpreted through the doctrines of the Eastern Church, which is mainly believed in the Harren Kingdom!”

Before long, people started piecing together evidence to support the rumor. Literature brings new perspectives on life, and if you’re determined to find evidence in it, you can dig up all sorts. Plus, testimonies from fans who had actually seen Homer in the flesh added more fuel to the fire.

“Author Homer was super exotic and handsome! He had this Eastern mixed-blood vibe, you know? And he was always surrounded by this noble and dignified aura.”

“Could it be that Author Homer is actually a mixed-blood from the Harren Kingdom?”

His exotic looks, mixing the past and present, were enough to bolster the speculation about his heritage. Some even went as far as to say:

“In the Harren Kingdom, it’s common for dethroned royals to change their identity and seek asylum in the Empire. So, could that be…?”

“Gasp.”

The rumors kept snowballing. And the central character in all this was…

“My son.”

“Yes, Father?”

“People are saying you’re the mixed-blood descendant of a royal who sought asylum from the Harren Kingdom.”

“…Yes.”

“That would make me the ‘royal who sought asylum from the Harren Kingdom’ then…”

“Haha…”

“I’ve never even been outside the Empire, let alone to the Harren Kingdom.”

“Yes…”

He quietly munched away at his meal, trying to avoid meeting his father’s gaze.

* * *

The head of the Fríden household was your classic slack-off. His hobbies? Gossiping about the central nobles, causing a ruckus in the council, and feigning illness to skip events whenever the capital sent out invitations.

He got the title of Count Fríden simply because he was the late Count Fríden’s one and only son. In every sense, he was the epitome of a born slacker. Once, he even attempted to hand off his title to his younger sister only to be shot down by the Heraldry Office.

“Why am I considered royalty of the Harren Kingdom? My capable second son?”

“…I have no idea either.”

“Are you mixed-blood?”

“No.”

Count Fríden didn’t genuinely feel offended. This was just… teasing. The head of the Fríden household was the kind of father who enjoyed poking fun at his son.

“I don’t mind you wandering around writing after downing weird potions, but don’t start pulling tricks with our family lineage.”

“Yes…”

“It could stir up some diplomatic troubles with the Harren Kingdom, plus it makes me feel weird too. You ungrateful child.”

“No, Father. I never claimed to be from the Harren Kingdom myself—”

“Whoa. Now you’re talking back to your father? Oh dear, the great sage and author Homer raises his voice, and here I am, a powerless noble, forced to shut my mouth. I’m afraid you might even write some nasty things about me in your novel.”

“…”

He almost said something but ended up just shutting his mouth and picking up his spoon. He wasn’t certain if the soup was going into his mouth or nose. He just wanted to chow down quickly and retreat to his room to write.

“Now you’re acting like you didn’t hear me… Oh, what can you do, old age and all… When I kick the bucket, pass down the Count title to Eric. That ungrateful second kid can take care of himself.”

“Brother, congrats on becoming the head.”

“Yeah, thanks, little bro. So, when’s your next masterpiece coming out?”

“Don’t know.”

“Raising kids seems pointless.”

“Tsk tsk, the kids learn from watching you because you’re such a slouch. How have you reached this age and still not grown up?”

Their father sulked and lowered his head, while their mother clicked her tongue at him. Just another ordinary day in the Fríden household.

* * *

Rolls Camel was a stutterer. Her mind was swimming with countless snippets of language and poetic inspiration, but the challenge was translating that into social language. So, she couldn’t help but stutter.

If she were asked to recite poetry? No stuttering at all; she could do that perfectly. Storytelling? She could go on for hours.

“I-I-I, I’m, fi-fine! S-Sponsorship is just, to-to-too much—”

“Please, there’s no need to be so tense. We’re only here to support Camel’s artistic activities. We won’t demand anything special in return.”

“Th-th-that’s, uh, I—”

Talking to others felt like climbing a mountain for her.

Understanding what’s called ‘social language’ was especially tough. Rolls Camel’s speech was pure primal noise, refined rhetoric for art, and a complicated yet intuitive puzzle.

Being told to speak with an eye on how others might judge it? That was definitely a tall order.

“If you can’t decide right away, just take a look at this document first.”

“Ah, ah! Yes, yes!”

“Haha, I’ll take my leave then. I’ll come by again sometime.”

“Y-yes, yes…”

Rolls Camel read the document the patron’s representative handed her and tossed it straight into the trash.

Then she quietly flopped down on the sofa, staring at the patterns of the world.

The wood grain of the table, the dust dancing in the sunlight, the shimmering mana from a broken magic tool. Just gazing at those made her feel a bit at ease.

But there was something that brought her the most serenity.

“Haa… I want to play with the kids…”

Kids. Especially innocent little girls.

Rolls Camel adored those girls. Not in a creepy way, mind you.

On a more spiritual level, she felt profound comfort only when chatting with young girls.

Maybe it was because Rolls Camel’s linguistic sense mirrored the carefree way children express themselves.

If needed, they would freely invent new words, spin chaotic stories all day, prioritize their own feelings above anyone’s judgment, and react honestly, loving or hating everything.

Children were the purest essence of innocence. At least, that’s what Rolls Camel believed.

“Ugh…”

She yearned to play with the kids, but she knew she had to be cautious.

Adults judged the world through their narrow perspectives, hurling disrespectful evaluations and assumptions left and right.

There were plenty of rude folks who thought she was a weirdo for wanting to play with kids.

It was dreadful. Nowadays, some even blabber about the great author ‘Homer,’ saying he’s some mixed-blood from Harren or a hidden royal.

People had this foolish belief that great writing talent could only spring from noble blood.

“I want to see Author Homer…”

In that sense, Author Homer seemed to view the world with a much clearer lens.

Not that you could tell just by reading his works—no, that wasn’t the point.

It was more about his attitude and reactions. Author Homer didn’t possess any of the usual prejudices or biases that people had.

He let a stutterer co-author with him and chuckled heartily at her praise of a girl’s innocence, showing neither noble arrogance nor artistic pretentiousness.

He was strangely rational.

Thus, he came off as pure.

A pure and great intellect.

That’s how Rolls Camel perceived Homer.

“I wish I could be a great writer like Author Homer…”

While staring vacantly at the world’s patterns, Rolls Camel suddenly jumped up and headed for her room.

She was determined to write. To become a great writer, she first had to start being a writer.

* * *

“President.”

“Yes! Author!”

“I’ve been hearing strange rumors floating around the Empire lately. Please make our official stance clear. All the gossip about the ‘royalty of the Harren Kingdom’ is just baseless nonsense.”

“Got it!”

From a marketing standpoint, it wouldn’t hurt, but there was no need to let potentially messy rumors linger.

Such things needed to be squashed early on.

So she tried to head them off proactively through the publishing house.

[Harren Royal Spokesperson: “Author Homer’s works breathe the traditions and spirit of the Harren Kingdom. No comment on the rumors regarding Author Homer’s royal lineage.”]

…She was a step too late.