The Editor Is the Novel’s Extra

Chapter 186



Chapter 186

Servant, coachman, prince of errands (1)

Cel emptied her teacup, then explained about the processing of the Nodus mansion incident.

“A man came from the Home Affairs Bureau and told Daria to keep quiet and somehow settled the fleeing civilians. Fortunately, they hadn’t seen what Hester did. However, vice-captain Ezra Sergey was disciplined, and the current investigator is Captain Daria Isai.”

“Because of Hester?”

“Yes. In addition to the issue of supervisory responsibility, there are those dissatisfied that Ezra’s journey has continued…I think he’ll have to be proactive for a while.”

“Work is getting tangled up.”

“If you’re a vice-captain, that’s normal.”

It was natural that Kleio hadn’t been able to find the one that had stolen the demon blood, no matter how much they had investigated. They had known each other well and worked together for a long time, but no one in the mobile research branch had realized what was happening.

However, Hester Ward was wanted as a deserter, not as an accessory to an illegal magic experiment that had killed people. The desertion of a soldier resided surprisingly low in public attention. The announcement itself was taken care of by Daria, but the military had decided it was impossible for the 7th level wizard to be pursued.

“That glamorous beauty with the bronze-colored hair became a completely different person within a few days. She’s like a ghost of a bureaucrat in a military uniform. She still works well, but her smile is lost, and her hair was burnt.”

“Well…if your best friend and coworker betrayed you like that, it would be a big blow.”

“No.”

Hester Ward was a suspicious woman. As it turned out, the aristocrat who leased the Lamor mansion turned out to be Hester’s half-sister, who wasn’t actually pregnant and had also suddenly gone missing. The children of the aristocratic family that kicked off the investigation were treated as permanent disappearances, but some families seemed to welcome the disappearance of their trouble. Madame Lamor was crushed in the collapsing mansion, and Guilard’s body had no remains. Apparently, the house of the Eclipsi family had been struck by lightning.

As soon as Kleio had awoken, he posted a written report to the crown prince. No matter how ill he was, he had a job to do. Besides, he had to avoid any suspicion that he was hiding details about the case. Therefore, he also didn’t forget to enclose the details of expenses used in the investigation process. It was practically tyranny that he was forced to use private costs in this way. After that, Cel had taken care of everything that required attendance. Given that the Defense Force and Home Affairs Bureau were working together and still couldn’t catch Hester’s tail, she must’ve fled abroad.

‘If you were experimenting with the poison, she would surely move on to Mainrat, where Aslan and Juleika are located.’

The problem was how to find a 7th-level wizard who used incomparable magic in Mainrat, the second largest territory of Brunnen. It had been a very messy finish. Neither Aslan’s experiment, the mansion bombing, nor the golems in the middle of the capital had been recorded in the last manuscript at all.

‘It seems that he knew about Hydra’s poison and Guilard, but Melchior didn’t know the variable called Hester.’

Melchior wasn’t all-knowing or all-powerful. He, too, couldn’t respond to unexpected situations that weren’t in the last manuscript he had experienced many times. The crown prince couldn’t know the inner story of this case and of the prophet’s visions.

‘Though it’s now an ultra-large case. Golems were released in the capital, after all.’

The disaster wasn’t just a crisis in state management but an opportunity for Melchior to garner public sentiment and, at the same time, punish the silent. Now there was another problem, however, and it was that Aslan now had a terrifying invention, in an almost complete form.

‘A level 7 wizard.’

Even in Albion, there were only three wizards at that level. He had heard two of them were specialists in healing and construction, whereas the third was a hermit who kept to themselves. Now, there was one capable of using exceptional attack magic and raising their level with a strange hex. Kleio rubbed the ring on his hand unconsciously.

“Now, I understand all the measures the Defense Forces came up with. Then, let me know what Arthur is doing.”

The two wizards, who had finally woken up, couldn’t sit down and calmly sip herbal tea. Cel smiled and crossed her arms, rethinking whether she should tell Kleio something.

“Oh, our youngest prince is busy these days. Thanks to him, I haven’t seen Isiel’s face for nearly a week.”

“…What is he doing?”

“Saving people.”

“What, and how is he doing that?”

“Well, Sir Kleio, you haven’t finished your treatment yet. Can I tell you something that hurts your mind? If you don’t know, it will help you recover in both body and spirit.”

“Speak quickly; I think it’ll be worse for my heart to hear later.”

Kleio had been in a dire state only two days ago, given the shoulder wound he had suffered. Until then, he had done little other than drink plenty of fluids and sleep. Cel was the first to see Kleio properly standing up today. He had been cut off from outside news under Mrs. Canton’s meticulous care as well.

“The whole capital is infested with stories of our prince. In every pub, there are some who use his name.”

Cel pulled out a tabloid newspaper and a coarse copy from her pocket.

-Evening Star-

-Servant, Prince of the Coachman

-Prince Arthur Riognan dropped a bombshell at the witness stand in the ghost mansion case!

‘Do you know the price of bread and tea leaves, respectable chairman?’-

Kleio’s gaze focused on the headline, which was a mix of four kinds of typefaces, before eagerly snatching up the newspaper.

“Suddenly, he’s wearing a suit and giving a speech at Congress?”

“It’s a lot to explain. There were only four deaths, but there were a lot injured. However, the best healing wizard in the country was occupied in caring for a seriously injured disciple. So, the rest of the wounded went to the healing division ran by Captain Yetzkel of the Capital Defense Forces. That’s the start.”

Without raising his head from the newspaper, Kleio mumbled.

“…Ether can’t be lacking just because the dean healed a piercing wound.”

It was a habit of Kleio, which Cel knew well now, to act like it wasn’t a big deal even after nearly dying.

‘Where does he get that bad habit?’

Cel cheerfully continued.

“Yes, there was no shortage of ether. Your fracture was roughly fixed by vice-captain Ezra. However, given the amount of blood you had lost, they were preparing to reserve a gravestone for you.”

“Hey, aren’t you exaggerating too much?”

“Well…it was a shock that would’ve shortened a certain elder’s life expectancy. Even though the injuries were erased, there was a long list, including fractures, bruises, and cuts.”

Kleio was struck speechless, so he focused on reading the newspaper. Kleio’s experience was too little to imagine that his injuries could be the grief of others.

Cel finally turned the conversation back to the subject at hand. Director Yetzkel, the healing department, and Professor Maria had been dispatched to help the seriously injured. However, the next order was the problem. The nobles were given priority to the magic team, and the workers wounded were sent to the charity hospital to wait for treatment. Healing the nobles that could afford not to work for a couple of days and neglected those who struggled to continue if they missed work for even a day was a response that was considered absurd.

However, since the servants had weak power and couldn’t have their voices be heard, it was viewed as a small complaint from some people. But Arthur wouldn’t let things go that way.

“The newspaper claims that our prince stood up for their livelihood.”

“Then Arthur overthrew the Senate committee and turned the capital upside down so that the servants would receive the same healing magic as the nobles?”

“It’s summed up like that. Look at the illustration; it’s awesome. There, the chief illustrator’s younger brother worked as a cook at the Lamor mansion. As a result, he put in some serious effort.”

Kleio took a closer look at Arthur’s speech, which spanned four columns between the article and the headline. It was a very well-characterized illustration. Nevertheless, with a wiser and more ambitious impression than he actually exuded, he seemed to overwhelm the entire committee by himself, not wearing the royal family’s fancy robes but in a simple black jacket. The scene of the congressman depicted as being dragged away by the congressional guards was full of liveliness.

‘It’s good that the prince grew up well, but isn’t it too sudden? Why are you doing this all of a sudden?’

As Lundane’s second-largest newspaper was covering him in this way, the third prince could no longer be seen as an innocent young man specializing in martial arts. He was a prince who knew the lives of those at the bottom as if he had experienced them himself.

People didn’t want those like them to rule; they wanted the nobles to understand people like them. Arthur Riognan was the ideal royal family member that the crowd would envy even into the future. Where had the guy who was limping with his sword until yesterday come up with all these thoughts?

‘Arthur also gave a speech in his previous life, just before the decisive battle.’

However, the speed of change was different between the last reading and this time. Arthur might’ve reached his abilities as a leader worthy of the ninth world.

‘He’s a natural politician.’

And Kleio was a bit shocked to learn that Arthur’s hidden qualities hadn’t been seen before. They were together much of the time, after all, but admittedly he didn’t know what he was doing during the night.

‘I always thought he was pub-hopping and breaking curfew, but was he really not just drinking and playing?’

The words of the common folk completely cut off the tradition of great rhetoric. Arthur had invented a voice that sounded more genuine than any other of his time.

.

.

.

That morning, Isiel sat on a bench in the auditorium room next to the senate hall, staring at her lord with confidence. The design of the seating, where the table and chairs were one level higher than the testimony seat, was designed to press the witness. Arthur stood alone, facing all members of the board at the testimony stand. His wide and straight back didn’t shrivel even with the five members of the committee before him.

With his limbs relaxed, Arthur met the faces of those around him. He had neither speeches nor memos written down before him as he took off his hat to show respect to the committee. A few seconds later, the clerk, who had fallen still, asked Arthur to testify, repressing the thought it was somehow disrespectful to speak such an administrative statement to the prince.

“This is the testimony of His Highness Arthur Riognan’s recount of the mansion collapse incident. This is a reference item for calculating the compensation amount, reinforcement of documents 3-4.”

Of course, Arthur wasn’t standing there to inform them of how the mansion collapsed.

“Thank you for the opportunity to speak with Honorable Lord Verme, the Minister of Commerce, who is the sponsor of legitimate economic activities.”

Arthur started with fire.


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