“It’s landing, it’s landing, it’s landing!”
“It sure is!”
The airship was touching down. The two, who had grown tired of sightseeing in the sky and had been nodding off, pressed themselves to the window again.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!”
The airship slowly descended onto the runway, then shuddered with a loud thud—! Epherene and Allen’s bodies bounced, and before long, a flight attendant knocked.
—Professor Deculein. We have arrived.
I 「Encrypted」 the go board again. Rising to my feet, I called Epherene and Allen.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
The moment I opened the door to the VVIP room, the flight attendants and captain were lined up in the corridor. I walked between them with practiced ease, while Epherene and Allen followed awkwardly behind.
“……Wow.”
The instant we stepped off the airship, the scenery filled our vision.
Allen exclaimed in admiration. Epherene’s mouth also fell open. The “Round Table” was that unusual a space.
“What is all this…….”
The Round Table was, quite literally, a round table. A wide, circular space shaped like a plate. Beyond the horizon, a pink sunset dyed the world, and the glass floor dazzlingly reflected that light.
“Hey, Deculein.”
Then someone called me. A familiar face was approaching from the far side of the runway.
“Oh. Leafy came too?”
It was Ihelm. He waved as though pleased to see us.
“Oh, seriously. Because of you, everyone at the Magic Tower calls me Leafy now.”
Epherene glared at Ihelm with dagger-like eyes. Ihelm smirked and shrugged.
“It’s nice, what’s wrong with it? Much better than Epherene.”
“What’s wrong with Epherene?”
“I told you, didn’t I? It’s not exactly a good name. Anyway.”
Ihelm turned back to me.
“Deculein. They’re calling for you at the Round Table’s Grand Assembly Hall. Leafy and you, Assistant Professor, follow me. Deculein, you go that way.”
At those words, Leafy—no, Epherene—and Allen tilted their heads. I spoke to the two of them.
“Do that. I’ll go alone.”
“Ah. Yes…….”
“Take care~”
Snap, snap—Ihelm snapped his fingers as he spoke.
“Follow me, you two chicks.”
“What? Who’re you calling chicks…….”
* * *
「Glass of the Round Table」
A restaurant with an antique signboard.
Inside, decorated all in white, classical melodies flowed through the air, and in the few seats available sat famous mages one would recognize by face alone.
“Oh…… Assistant Professor. Look at that person. He’s the head of the Zoble School.”
“Ah, you’re right! Was that Mage Traje?”
Epherene and Allen took their seats while looking over the faces around them. Perhaps thanks to Ihelm, not even three seconds passed before a waiter approached.
“I will take your order, Count Rewind.”
“Ah, yes. First, a 33-year Fondreux. And Parma soup with Gersol. What else came in today?”
“Yes. Slehan and Roahawk—”
“Roahawk?!”
Epherene’s eyes widened. Ihelm and the waiter both turned to look at her in silence for a moment.
Then Ihelm spoke again.
“Right. Got it. Let’s have the Roahawk steak.”
“Yes. Also, a specialty from the Volang territory……”
While Ihelm ordered, Epherene looked out the window. She was embarrassed that she had reacted to Roahawk.
Was this what they called an unconditional reflex, or an unconscious reflex, or whatever……?
“Ahem! So this, this is the Round Table~”
An island of glass located somewhere on the continent, in the middle of the sea. The scenery of the Round Table was fascinating no matter how many times one looked. Every direction was flat like a round table, and it endlessly reflected every source of light.
“It’s a bizarre place.”
Ihelm, having finished ordering, spoke. Epherene quickly asked.
“Can they do the Roahawk?”
“Yeah. I ordered the biggest one.”
“…….”
Nice. Epherene clenched the fist she had hidden beneath the table. It probably wouldn’t be as good as 「The Pig’s Flower」, but still, it was Roahawk. It would be delicious.
“Anyway, as you can see, this Round Table is an artificially created magical space. It has everything—restaurants, houses, bookstores, and so on—but I don’t like coming here often.”
“Why?”
“Because this place is a hotbed of checks and restraints. If you’re doing well, you get properly envied and resented. There are also a damn lot of old geezers.”
“Ah…… But why was the professor suddenly invited?”
“That’s right. It was too sudden.”
Epherene asked. Allen also nodded, curious. Ihelm smiled faintly and took a sip from his teacup.
“Because of that bastard Deculein’s achievement.”
“……Pardon?”
“How much do you know about the Round Table?”
“Just…… a place where magic schools gather?”
If knights had “styles,” mages had “schools.” Officially, only three schools could exist per magic category, and the Round Table was said to be a gathering of those schools.
“Correct. It’s where a total of twenty-four schools gather, but they’re quite exclusionary. They extremely hate the founding of new schools.”
“Why? Isn’t it good if a new school appears?”
“……Simple-minded brat.”
Ihelm shook his head.
“Only twenty-four. Only twenty-four. In this Round Table, there can only be three schools per category, twenty-four in total. A school that falls behind gets knocked out.”
“……Ah!”
Only then did Epherene and Allen realize.
Officially, only twenty-four schools could exist.
“Then……”
“Yeah. That’s why Deculein was called here.”
Clack—Ihelm set down his teacup. Twisting his lips, he said,
“On the Floating Island and here at the Round Table, the potential of Deculein’s thesis is slowly being proven. Ah, should I call it the Deculein–Luna thesis?”
“…….”
Epherene closed her mouth. Ihelm continued as if it were no big deal.
“So there are many schools sweating bullets right now. Which category Deculein’s thesis gets assigned to is important, and when he gets recognized as an Elder is important, but most of all…… why did he publish the thesis without telling them? That’s the most important part.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“The Round Table is a society of old fogeys. And being treated as the head of a school at the Round Table has enormous value, you know? If he’d told them in advance, then even if they were going to be expelled, they could’ve sucked out as much as possible right up until the end. Why didn’t he give them time for internal discussion? That kind of thing.”
“Ah…….”
It was an easy explanation to understand. As Epherene and Allen listened, the appetizer was brought out. It was Gersol Parma soup.
Epherene asked,
“Then why didn’t Professor Deculein tell the Round Table beforehand?”
“You know that bastard’s personality. Confidence that might be recklessness. Self-esteem that might be arrogance.”
Ihelm smiled faintly. Then he murmured in a tone mixed with a sigh.
“He’s trying to bring down the Round Table’s rigid order. It’s a thesis he published without offering the Round Table any kind of hostage, so it’s a proper rebel’s dynastic revolution.”
Epherene and Allen’s eyes grew round. As though amused by their reaction, Ihelm lifted his spoon with a smile on his lips.
“You probably didn’t know. But once you’re at Deculein’s level—or ours—every single action, statement, and gesture carries political intent.”
“Hmm…… I guess so.”
“This is practically no different from a declaration of war. Things will get quite interesting if he becomes an Elder, won’t they? I never dreamed I’d say something like this, but at times like these, he’s a reliable bastard. I hate the damn old men of this Round Table too.”
At that moment, Epherene caught the aroma of the appetizer. She was startled. It felt as if the tip of her nose were melting.
Seeing her expression, a smile rose to Ihelm’s lips.
“Eat. Enjoy it for now, but be careful. Before long, a storm will gather around Deculein as well……”
* * *
I arrived at the waiting room of the Round Table’s Grand Assembly Hall. I did not know what kind of meeting this would be, but just then, a quest notification appeared.
[Status Quest: The Round Table’s Check]
◆ Acquired qualifications for the quest “Ascension to Elder”
It seemed to be the first button toward becoming an Elder. Like Chairman, “Elder” was also one of the fairly major achievements.
“It seems to be Deculein.”
Then someone called me from the far side of the waiting room.
A woman still clad in a robe, still speaking in questions.
It was “Carla.” I looked at her.
“You came here too?”
“I seem to have read your thesis well.”
“Thank you.”
Carla nodded and held something out to me. It was a letter.
“Could it be a letter from Rohakan?”
“…….”
I tucked the letter into my coat and asked back,
“Is that all?”
“The people of the Round Table seem very angry. They might even try to kill you.”
“Is that so?”
The Round Table was not a particularly good group. If anything, they could be called an obstacle to clearing the main quest.
“It doesn’t matter. I won’t die.”
“…….”
Carla said nothing. She merely sat on the sofa in the waiting room. Then she began eating the snacks on the table.
I watched her stuff them into her mouth like a hamster, then asked,
“Is your business finished?”
“It seems so.”
At that moment, the door to the waiting room burst open. Beyond the threshold stood a group of mages.
“Professor Deculein. It is time for the meeting.”
A middle-aged man who seemed to be their leader spoke with a stiff face. I rose from my seat and followed him.
Tap, tap—
Their footsteps were quick, but my stride was leisurely. I had no intention of losing my dignity by trotting along like them with their short or stout bodies.
However.
“No.”
The middle-aged mage suddenly turned to me. His name was probably “Debrun.”
“Come on already! What are you doing, moving so slowly?”
“…….”
All the mages stopped. I steadily met their gazes.
The stillness was thick. The silence was long.
At last, I approached them first and spoke.
“……Debrun.”
“What? Debrun?”
“I can forgive you for opening the door without manners. No, I do not wish to lose my dignity by bothering to point it out. However.”
I walked slowly. My shoe heels pressed down upon the floor.
“When a lowly thing that does not know its place fails to recognize goodwill and crawls upward.”
Step— Step—
Only a single set of footsteps rang through the corridor, and the mages of the Round Table, one by one, began to hide the hostility they had been displaying with their eyes.
They were afraid. Truly like vermin.
“I do not feel like tolerating it that far.”
I drew up before the middle-aged man and looked down at him. I made him lower his upturned eyes.
“Know your place. If the likes of you acts any more insolently than this, I may kill you.”
* * *
……Having finished her meditation, Sophien sank calmly once more. At last, the peace named “sloth” had come, and that sloth soaked into comfortable contemplation.
She lay on the bed and looked at the snow globe. Snow was falling inside the glass sphere. Staring at that tiny tremor, she thought of Keiron and the Giant.
“……A Giant.”
Ancient rulers who possessed infinite lifespans and potential approaching that of gods.
Yet nowhere in the continent’s literature did there exist the truth behind the disappearance of the entire race, their sudden extinction. They had merely fallen into the phrases of myth that minstrels recited by the campfire.
Tick— tock—
However, Sophien had met a Giant’s eyes. She had discovered part of a race thought to be extinct.
There had been unfathomable depth in his pupils. It was a soul that had seen through the origins of the world, the universe, and all things. He had undoubtedly touched “truth”……
Tick— tock—
The Giant and the snow globe. And Deculein and Keiron.
Sophien searched through her memories. She recited to herself the curse given to her, the authority known as “Regression.”
Tick— tock—
Before long, a certain place rose in her mind.
The Imperial Palace Library. The place where the entire history of the continent slept. And yet, it was an unexplored land that Sophien had not visited even once.
“I never thought I would do this in my lifetime.”
Sophien rose from the bed. She immediately opened the door to the dressing room.
Inside, it was filled with garments presented by the nations and families of the continent. After scanning them with her eyes and deliberating, she put on a hooded robe.
She left her bedchamber and went down underground.
Two knights stood before the doors of the dark library. The two seemed to recognize the Emperor and opened their eyes wide.
“……We greet Your Maj—”
“Keep silent.”
“…….”
That was the end of it. The two knights said nothing more, and Sophien opened the library doors.
Creeeeak——
Through the gap that was revealed, the first thing she saw was the librarian. A short old man. He was organizing books, feeling along the shelves.
Though the master of this Imperial Palace had entered, he did not acknowledge her.
No—he could not. For the librarian, Lexil, had already gone blind.
“Hey.”
Sophien spoke. The librarian tucked in his wrinkled hands and turned toward her. It seemed he had sensed something from her unusual tone and presence.
“……Your Majesty?”
“Right. Are there any books on the continent’s legends or myths—particularly those related to giants?”
“Ah……”
Lexil quickly bowed at the waist.
“Yes, Your Majesty. There are. I shall guide you.”
“Good.”
Sophien followed Lexil. The corridors of the Imperial Palace Library were long. The entire space was filled with nothing but books, paper, and wood.
As she walked, taking in the countless volumes, a question suddenly came to mind.
“Librarian. Has anyone besides Us visited this library?”
“Yes. Indeed, Your Majesty. Quite often of late.”
“Who? Are outsiders admitted so easily?”
At that moment, the librarian’s steps came to a halt before a certain bookshelf. At a glance, it was a space filled with ancient texts.
Sophien looked up at the books, then listened as the librarian continued.
“It is Count Yukline.”
“……By Count, you mean Deculein?”
“Yes.”
At the librarian’s answer, Sophien let out a hollow laugh.
“Can you tell which books he read?”
“Yes. Of course, Your Majesty.”
When the librarian stretched out a hand, dozens of books came sliding over all at once. No doubt he had professionally learned magic for managing the library.
“Furthermore, there are also records of the thoughts he organized.”
“Thoughts?”
“Yes.”
Sophien asked back, her eyes widening in surprise. Lexil took out the books Deculein had read and placed them on the library table.
“When I lend out books, I receive permission for my magic. And as for what my magic is, it is the acquisition of the thoughts of those who read the books.”
“Acquisition of thoughts?”
“Yes. It is a magic that absolutely requires the subject’s consent, but the professor granted it readily.”
“……Good. Show Us.”
Deculein’s thoughts. What that man had been thinking as he read these books.
It seemed like it might be rather amusing.
“Was there anything unusual?”
“He was a very courteous nobleman.”
Lexil placed his hand on the books. Then he ‘copied’ the thoughts Deculein had held while reading them, just as they were.
This was the reason Lexil had been able to serve for so long as the Imperial Palace’s librarian.
Of course, it could not be activated without the other party’s consent—not merely verbal, but mental permission as well—but it allowed every thought the subject had while reading a book to be copied onto the pages.
Lexil was, in truth, the Imperial Palace Library’s one and only, yet certain, defense mechanism.
“Good. You may return.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
After Lexil left, Sophien picked up the thinnest book among the many volumes first—a poetry collection titled [The Bard’s Giant].
“Hmm.”
There was nothing much in this book. Like a book of lyrics, it merely recorded the bard’s songs as they were.
Therefore, there was nothing particularly special about Deculein’s thoughts that had been ‘copied’ onto the pages of this book, either.
Whether he had enjoyed them as though savoring them, or had stopped after reading only a few pages.
“There is nothing much here……?”
However, in the bard’s book, on its final page.
There were Deculein’s thoughts.
Several lines of feeling sat there, alone.
Sophien found the sentences somewhat difficult to understand.
─There is little to reference in the bard’s songs. No noteworthy facts, nothing at all. However, the final line of one song, the phrase ‘the giant and the emperor,’ troubles me. Lyrics close to a prophecy: the giant recognizes the emperor, and the emperor recognizes the giant. As I read those strange lyrics, for some reason, I find myself wishing for Sophien’s happiness…….
I find myself wishing for Sophien’s happiness.
The emperor’s eyes remained fixed, as though nailed to that single, unbearably arrogant sentence.