The woman despised the press.

She detested journalists who acted as if they were the very embodiment of justice, often overstepping bounds with their rudeness. The way they wielded information like power and adopted a double standard, acting as though they belonged to the upper echelons of society, was particularly irksome. However, she did not deny the necessity of their existence. So, she read the newspapers daily, sorting out those she would eliminate and those she would continue to observe.

And now, the woman had decided to spare one particular media outlet she had recently considered exterminating.

"Isn't it charming that they've written such a pleasing line?" She mused, glancing at the article.

It was a third-rate article filled with flattery for the royal family, but its framing of the White Lion as a paragon of justice and its relentless criticism of mages seemed to give the publication a reprieve for another year.

…though next year might be a different story.

"Your uncle seems to be up to something amusing," she said.

"Oooh?"

She chuckled. "Not those useless fools bound to you by blood. How could they dare to call themselves your uncles? No, I mean Ihan, the only one this mother acknowledges as a true friend. Although he may not share our royal blood, he is a sworn brother that I have recognized. You must always show him respect when others are not watching, Arthur."

"Aaawuu."

"Are you interested too? Your eyes are sparkling. Well, I can't blame you. I'm excited to see what kind of battle my sworn brother will be waging."

"Oooh?"

"My dear son, remember this: watching the blood feuds of warriors is a thrilling break from monotony. I sometimes relieve my stress by observing such duels. Or perhaps, if someone dares to harm you, cutting off their head could be an interesting experience. It's a good method for a future king to relieve stress. There are times in this position when I wish to rip off a few heads myself…."

"Ooooh?"

She whispered sweetly to the child nestled in her arms, although the content seemed questionably unfit for a child’s moral education. Luckily, he was not yet old enough to understand her words.

Just then, the only person in the royal household who could offer a word of reproach spoke up.

"That is hardly the kind of thing to say to a child, Princess."

She turned toward him with a playful smile. "Albert, your footsteps are still silent as ever. Be mindful of that, or you'll frighten Arthur."

"I think he’ll find you more frightening than me in due time."

"What did you say?"

Albert, her butler, shook his head with a knowing sigh. He wondered if it was truly ethical to let the child stay near such a fearsome princess.

"You’ve been going out more often lately."

"I have my duties, after all."

"Always complaining."

"Hardly. Investigating lions in the heart of the northern lands is no small task, I assure you."

She, Princess Isis Ired of Pendragon, narrowed her eyes. Normally, she would brush off such complaints, but she could see the undeniable fatigue on Albert's face. For an Aura User of his caliber to appear this exhausted, his complaints were clearly not exaggerated.

"The North, troublesome as always."

"Perhaps you should leave that beehive alone instead of disturbing it."

"I have thought of that, but I do prefer to burn hives that bother me."

"...I wish you could temper that aggressive streak of yours."

"I’ve lived my whole life like this; leave it be."

If something bothered her, she would burn it down—honey or not. Ruthless and ever-efficient, her nature was undeniably harsh.

Of course…

‘She has softened a bit compared to the past.’

Isis had endured bloody family conflicts with her siblings since birth. Betrayed by those she trusted, chased by assassins more times than she could count. If she had retained any kindness in such an upbringing, it would’ve been suspicious.

Thus, she didn’t hesitate to spill blood or exile her siblings from the palace. Yet, recently, she seemed softer, perhaps thanks to a newfound friend who brought her more joy than the insignificant riffraff ever could.

Albert allowed his gaze to linger on the newspaper spread on the table.

There was an article featured prominently on the front page.

‘Heh.’

Albert chuckled to himself before speaking.

"I heard about it. He’s been quite lively, hasn’t he? Youth is indeed a wonderful thing."

"I might agree if anyone else old said that, but it doesn’t resonate coming from you."

"I’m not as young as I once was, I assure you. But, my lady, don’t you plan to intervene?"

"Why would I?"

"Oh."

Had it been her usual self, she wouldn’t have tolerated the presence of a mage, especially not one running rampant. It might even interfere with the mission she had assigned him. But this time, she was uncharacteristically calm. Undoubtedly, the mage annoyed her.

"Albert, you do know me well."

"Then…"

"But I will not get involved this time."

"...?"

Albert looked puzzled at her unexpected declaration. Was it possible that she was simply content to leave things as they were? But her next words clarified it for him.

"If I were to interfere, it would rob my sworn brother of the chance to raise his reputation."

"..."

"If he can build some fame from this opportunity, then it is to our advantage."

"Ah, you’re thinking of your brother."

Only then did Albert understand her reasoning.

"That fool undervalues fame. Despite his accomplishments, he remains content to live in obscurity. I can’t understand it."

"Hmm."

"What is that look for?"

"Nothing, I was just thinking you’re still in the bloom of youth, Princess."

"Enough with the nonsense."

"It’s just something I was thinking."

Albert now fully understood why she was refraining from intervening, even with a mage involved. She held knights in high regard and had always been dissatisfied with his low profile.

So, she wouldn’t interfere with the war game. It was a rare opportunity for his reputation to spread.

‘They call them fans, right? Noble ladies who support unknown actors, hoping they’ll succeed.’

Wanting to see her favorite performer succeed—some might call it fanhood.

‘Ah, our princess still has some innocence left after all.’

Albert felt pleased.

Though…

"Hmph, what a curious thing."

"Ooh?"

"Arthur, it will soon be time for us to venture outside again."

"...?"

"It’s going to be quite fun."

Albert’s view of her so-called ‘innocence’ was, for most, a harbinger of catastrophe.

 

Four days later, news circulated that the crown princess, Isis, was planning a visit to the academy.

"...Haah."

A boy sighed. He looked sullen, his disheveled hair and dull grayish locks adding to his gloomy impression. His very aura screamed, ‘Don’t come near me,’ and it was clear that people instinctively wanted to stay away.

And yet…

"Derek? Derek, where are you?"

"..."

"Aha! Found you!"

"!!!"

Recently, Derek, the boy, felt that his solitary lifestyle was under significant threat.

All because of a certain girl who had taken to staying close by and interfering in his affairs.

Despite his best efforts to remain hidden in the dense foliage, his attempts were easily thwarted by the keen-eyed girl with a ponytail.

"Lady Karin, um, why are you looking for me again?"

"To have lunch together, of course. We’re friends, aren’t we?"

"Why not eat with someone else? You have plenty of other friends."

"Those are followers. I don’t have that many friends."

"..."

Did she really just say that?

"Besides, my neck hurts from looking up at you. Would you come down? I even brought lunch today."

"I-I don’t mind coming down, but please don’t touch my hair this time."

"Alright, I promise."

"...Alright then."

With a swift motion, Derek leapt down from the branch. His movements were so light, he seemed like a flying squirrel, and the girl’s eyes sparkled.

‘That’s not your average agility.’

A freedom in his movement that even the academy’s cadets couldn’t replicate. Even on the day they met, she had sensed something extraordinary, and the more she got to know him, the more his unusual qualities stood out.

Yet, what caught her attention even more…

Swoosh.

"Y-you promised!"

"Well, a girl’s mind is like a reed, isn’t it?"

"...!!"

The moment he landed, she moved beside him and brushed his hair aside, revealing his bright golden eyes. Hidden beneath his disheveled gray hair, his eyes held a mesmerizing beauty that could have even captivated a woman.

‘Such beautiful eyes.’

Eyes so enchanting she couldn’t help but want to see them again and again. And occasionally, the glimpses of his extraordinary nature only drew her in more. She’d gladly set aside her followers for a chance to be with him.

"Derek, have you thought about tidying up your hair? I could introduce you to someone."

"I’m really fine, Lady Karin. It grows back anyway, and I take good care of it."

"What about tying it back, then?"

"Why bother?"

"..."

Sometimes, this relentless darkness of his was tiresome.

Karin Alencia de Guinevere puffed her cheeks in frustration.

 

‘She’s exhausting.’

Derek found her burdensome. He couldn’t help it. As he had told her the day before, he’d never had any experience with women. To him, they were wild beasts, impossible to grow accustomed to.

If he had to compare, they were like lions or bears. Having one lingering nearby left him as stiff as prey before a predator. He’d sweat bullets, considering where to hide next.

But then, Derek was reminded of something else that kept bothering him.

‘They said the cadets who went for training with him would be back today, right?’

The source of all the buzz at the academy—the reckless warriors challenging a mage to a war game. Criticism was heavy against the swordsmen cadets, and everyone was dismissive.

But Derek didn’t see their actions as foolish. Under the right conditions, a warrior could certainly defeat a mage in a war game.

‘If they have the right piece, their chances of winning increase.’

Of course, he was the only one who knew about the existence of that hidden piece. And he was curious. If Ihan Turtle, the instructor, had the same knowledge as he did, then…

‘Could he be like me, involved with the game? Or perhaps he’s aware of the original story?’

Derek’s speculative hunch—maybe, just maybe, Ihan was also a person who knew of the game or the original plot.

And if that was the case…

‘This is my chance to confirm it.’

One of the hidden pieces to defeat a mage—the Mage Hunter’s Musket.

A musket created by an alchemist who had dedicated his life to killing mages. It boasted both a long barrel and immense power, with the added advantage of magical resistance.

If the swordsmen cadets returned with muskets strapped to their backs, that would confirm it—he wasn’t alone in this world.

As Derek entertained this small glimmer of hope…

"Hm? There, the swordsmanship instructor is back. Looks like they’ve returned."

"Where?"

"Over there."

"...Ah, finally, ……uh?"

What… is that?

The academy’s main gate. Since it was lunchtime, the cadets gathered there to use the lawn as their dining area. They were the first to notice the return of the instructor and the cadets.

However, in an instant, an awkward atmosphere settled over them.

"...?"

The cadets looked like they had seen something they wished they hadn’t.

And Derek…

‘Is... Is one of the available classes… Berserker?’

He blinked, wide-eyed, at the sight of the eighteen cadets, all clad in bearskins.