On the day of the Empire Academy’s end-of-term ceremony.

In a café within the capital, a group of nobles—each of some influence in the Empire—had gathered for a meeting.

Among the many cafés in Chaldea, one called “Empire’s Garden” was popular for its setting. While the first floor was open to the public, the second floor had enclosed spaces designed for discreet meetings.

“We finally have enough people to put that arrogant man in his place.”

“Finally, we can teach those lowlifes a lesson.”

The ones who had rented out the entire second floor of Empire’s Garden were none other than members of the Empire’s Parent-Teacher Association.

Their recent gatherings had been fueled by their frustration with the public criticism that the nobles had been facing, especially due to the ongoing serialization of The Count of Monte Cristo in Manafia. Their goal was to get manga banned throughout the Empire.

“It’s infuriating enough that commoners are learning to read through these comic books!”

“Exactly! Just recently, one of them dared to question the terms in their tenant contracts—it’s absurd.”

“And it’s not just them. Even some of the new nobles are using the content of these manga to incite the commoners!”

In the past, perhaps nine out of ten commoners—or nearly all, with very rare exceptions—were illiterate.

Because of this, nobles would routinely cheat commoners out of their rights, using forged contracts or outright lies.

Though the commoners might have suspected deception, they couldn’t protest, as they couldn’t read the documents they were signing.

But recently, with more people learning to read, often motivated by a desire to read manga such as The Kingdom of Ice, things had started to change.

While many still relied on others to read for them, there was an increasing number of people who had learned to read for themselves.

Where once a literate commoner was rare, it was now increasingly common to find them in most towns.

These literate commoners began helping others understand contracts, making it harder for nobles to cheat them without facing consequences. In fact, some nobles had even ended up paying penalties for breach of contract.

But that wasn’t all.

“Nobles must prove their nobility by fulfilling their duties. Can we truly call those who ignore their responsibilities, seeking only their privileges, ‘nobles’?”

Some of the new nobles had begun spreading messages like these, in partnership with merchant groups, directly to the commoners.

The radical and dangerous implications of these messages had angered some nobles, but there was little they could do.

The criticism wasn’t aimed at the Imperial Family but at specific noble factions.

“It targets only a corrupt few! Are you perhaps feeling guilty?”

If the accusations had been against the Empire itself, they could have charged the speakers with treason. However, since the attacks were directed at only a few nobles, there was little grounds for complaint.

Moreover, they couldn’t simply suppress these critics by force, as the new nobles were well-established, with wealthy merchants backing them.

“We’ve already garnered the support of over fifty nobles for our cause.”

“Finally, we can summon them to the ‘Agora’!”

But these nobles weren’t just sitting idly by.

They had formed the Empire’s Parent-Teacher Association to gather like-minded nobles for one purpose.

‘Agora.’

As a traditional form of debate that had been part of the Empire since its founding, an Agora could be convened with the consent of at least fifty nobles.

If fifty nobles agreed, they could formally request that the Imperial Family open an Agora on a specific topic.

This was considered a sacred right of the Empire’s nobles and was often used as a way to voice grievances to the Emperor.

Because of the risk of straining relations with the Imperial Family, Agoras were rarely convened.

However, since this Agora would target Rupert Somerset personally rather than the Imperial Family, there was no concern about upsetting the royal court.

Still,

“Remember, when the Agora is convened, one of the two sides must fall.”

When an Agora was convened for a dispute between nobles, the situation became more severe.

The Emperor and three of the seven Great Nobles would be appointed as judges.

In the vast circular arena where the Agora took place, both parties would present their arguments before the judges and the audience.

The judges would then deliberate, and their decision, once ratified by the Emperor, would determine the victor and the defeated.

The victor of an Agora could demand anything from the loser—except their life. This right, which went beyond Imperial law, was effectively an extralegal authority.

Throughout history, the losers of Agoras had met with dreadful fates.

For instance, in the most recent Agora, the victor confiscated the title and wealth of the loser, reducing him to poverty.

Subsequently, the defeated noble was beaten to death by a mob of commoners harboring grudges against him, an event that had been widely reported.

“We need to gather every bit of dirt on Rupert Somerset—the negative influence of manga on the Empire, his behavior, and any skeletons from his past. Not a single detail must be overlooked!”

Even though Rupert had the favor of the Imperial Family, the nobles of the Parent-Teacher Association were emboldened, knowing that the Emperor could not reverse an Agora’s decision.

“We’ll leave him breathing, and that’s it! Hahaha!!!”

The nobles’ laughter filled the private room on the second floor of the café.

The Empire Academy’s end-of-term ceremony.

Most students went back home when the break began.

However, those in difficult circumstances sometimes stayed in the dorms.

One student remaining at the Academy was Wolfgang, a member of the Music Department, though his situation was somewhat different.

As the second son of Baron Amadeus, Wolfgang wasn’t particularly powerful, but he still enjoyed the privileges of nobility, lacking nothing in his daily life.

He hadn’t gone home for the break out of embarrassment.

“Damn it… If only my arm were fine.”

From a young age, he had loved music and naturally gravitated towards various instruments.

Gifted with talent, Wolfgang had learned many instruments and earned a reputation in high society.

His violin and piano performances were so moving that he received invitations from both noble ladies and gentlemen alike.

It was only natural that he would be accepted into the Music Department at the Empire Academy.

However, he ranked dead last in the recent midterms.

Bam!

He slammed his palm onto the piano keys, producing a jarring sound.

He wanted to smash the piano with both hands, but he couldn’t.

Because he no longer had a left hand.

–No!

Before he entered the Academy, he had suffered an unexpected accident.

If a cleric or a potion had been available sooner, he might have saved his left hand, but it was too late, and it couldn’t be restored.

Unable to play instruments anymore, Wolfgang turned to composition when he entered the Academy, but that was no easier.

He needed to test his compositions by playing them, but since he couldn’t, he always had to rely on classmates to play his pieces.

Initially, they were willing to help, but they gradually found him bothersome and began to avoid him.

Unable to play or compose as he wished, he fell into a spiral of despair, which naturally affected his grades.

So Wolfgang chose to stay alone in the dorms over the break, rather than return home.

“I can’t give up like this.”

He knew, more than anyone, that music was his calling.

Though he could no longer perform, he believed he could still compose, so he steadied himself and began writing down the notes.

“Come to think of it… There was music in that Manga Club piece.”

He recalled the shocking work from the recent end-of-term ceremony, which had left the audience in awe.

He had seen it himself, and the impact of that experience lingered in his mind.

The combination of vividly moving images and the harmonious melodies had struck him like nothing he’d ever felt before.

“The music was great, but it felt a bit heavy.”

The Manga Club’s animation, The Sylvania Music Band, had a lighthearted tone, but Wolfgang found the accompanying music slightly too dense.

Was it really necessary to build such a thick harmonic texture with multiple instruments?

If it had been up to him, he would have made it more refined.

He envisioned a simpler melody that seemed easy to listen to but would later develop into lively, intricate variations.

Inspired, Wolfgang began jotting down the notes with his remaining hand.

He felt a near-certainty that this would be a great piece, and the sense of accomplishment kept him going, making him lose track of time.

“I need to play it now…”

With the sheet music complete, Wolfgang looked at his right hand.

The piece he had written, though it seemed simple at first glance, relied on complex variations to bring out a lively character.

Playing it with one hand would be impossible.

Had it been during the semester, he might have reluctantly asked his friends for help, but now that no one was around, that wasn’t an option.

♪♫♬

Nevertheless, determined to hear his creation, Wolfgang began to play with one hand.

He managed the initial melody, but as the piece grew more complex, his timing and notes faltered.

“Damn it!”

Frustration surged as he realized he couldn’t even play his own music.

With no one around, he vented his anger with a shout, feeling like he’d burst if he didn’t let it out.

Creak.

But one thing didn’t go as he expected—someone had heard his frustrations and his rough attempt at the piece.

Someone else was still at the Academy.