The Editor Is the Novel’s Extra

Ashen Flame of Revolution (1)

The Hall’s gallery was empty during the presentation ceremony. There were only a few attendees, including the chief of the royal court, to the ceremony. Apparently, the chief opposed the nobleman, but it seemed that Melchior pushed him with his unique skill. The official notice said he could invite his family, but Kleio hadn’t called anyone. Gideon and Vlad returned to Kolpos, and Grayer’s family was incredibly busy handling what they had acquired from Chentrum.

‘Besides… I’m not some high school student receiving a certificate.’

The awarding ceremony, in which the [Covenant] was omitted, was merely giving the status he had been informed of. He read aloud the sentences as directed, sat down when told to, then stood back up when instructed. As such, the ceremony ended quickly. The medal was held by a ribbon of three stripes of green, white, and indigo. The award itself was gold with a lion and a shield. Melchior placed the medal around his neck with a glove-wrapped hand.

“In this way, I bestow upon Sir Kleio Asel the Medal of Defense from the Albion kingdom, whose glory will remain eternal.”

‘This is really awkward.’

Melchior grabbed Kleio’s arm and helped him stand up.

“Well, are you ready then?”

“… Isn’t it all over now?”

“What are you talking about? The event has just begun. Now, you’ll be blinded, so prepare yourself.”

“Prepare…”

As the door to the Hall opened, a tremendous amount of light and noise poured in at once. The identity was the flashing of cameras and the questions from reporters. The flash cameras, lit with powder, were noisy as it felt like he had walked into the middle of a fireworks display. The front gate of the King’s Hall was crowded with reporters, photographers, and illustrators, despite the quiet that had remained throughout the ceremony. He later found out that the door of the King’s Hall had tiplaum embedded in it, with the magic formula [Soundproof][Shield].

“Sir Kleio, a word! You are the youngest to be awarded this medal…!”

“Do you have a personal relationship with Prince Melchior?”

“About the demon…”

Since there were newspapers, it was natural that there would be reporters, but this was something Kleio couldn’t even imagine. Unlike the fish-eyed Kleio, Melchior seemed used to it. He laid one hand on Kleio’s shoulder while his free hand gracefully waved.

“Everyone, please ask one question at a time. Mr. Magus from -Lundane Standard- first.”

***

Melchior was, indeed, a strange and terrifying man.

‘How is this man born from the royal family so skillful with the media? Nonsense.’

A photo of Kleio and Melchior appeared in most of the major newspapers. They were attempting to relieve the anxiety caused by the demon’s appearance with pictures of the boy hero who was gaining attention and popularity from the citizens. To make matters worse, the newspapers had even become a joke for the other students. In the afternoon after class, Kleio had gone to his parlor, where Cel began to laugh at him.

“Hey, Lei. Others would think you were completely Melchior’s thug.”

“Think whatever you like. I didn’t know that the photographers were waiting.”

“You’re a celebrity now, but you really have no clue!”

“It’s so bright and shaky that you can’t even recognize his face. Right, Lippi?”

“That’s right, Leticia. This picture is better.”

“It’s better, but not the same.”

Lippi looked closely at the newspaper she held. Leticia rubbed her chin and tilted her head.

“Do the newspaper illustrators have no eyes? Why are they drawing Lei like this?”

“Right? Lei is always crying.”

“This Sir Kleio in the picture is cool and dignified.”

The twins beat him clearly. Kleio took a big sip of whiskey from his flask; the peat scent was loosening his nerves. Of course, the Angellium twins, who cared not about mood, tugged at his collar and said whatever they wanted.

“What, you smell like alcohol!”

“Still, the medallions on the medal are cool! You have to wear this now!”

“My great-grandfather said that Leticia wanted this medal when she was younger!”

“Yes, yes, you can get it someday.”

“What, Lei. You answer completely randomly sometimes.”

“Right, I have no sincerity.”

At that moment, a knock sounded out on his door as Reuba poked her head in.

“Kleio?”

“Yes, sir?”

“This gift has just arrived for you from the royal family.”

“A gift?”

“It looks like food, but it’s too large to be sent to this room. Come and see.”

“Something to eat?!”

“What?!”

“Let’s go!”

The twins got up before Reuba finished speaking and grabbed Kleio’s arms. They dragged him down to the lobby on the first floor of the dorm, feeling like he needed more alcohol. That was because his eyes fell onto a box piled up like a wall. The dozens of boxes that held the royal family’s emblem and chocolates.

‘This feels like bullying.’

The delicious sweets were a response to his statement that he couldn’t wear a formal dress because it wasn’t the right size. It was a response that was almost humorous, but honestly, Melchior did nothing funny. Only the twins opening the boxes screamed with excitement.

“Butter toffee!”

“I want to eat oranges!”

“It’s good!”

Behemoth complained when he saw what they were eating, but he came to them anyway.

“I’m tired of sweets now.”

Kleio, who opened the box unenthusiastically, also felt like Behemoth. Of the dozens of boxes, he picked up one with lemon tarts and left the rest to Reuba.

“Teacher.”

“Yes?”

“Can this be shared fairly with the students, staff, and servants of the dormitory?”

“Oh, we can have this royal gift?”

“Of course. The crown prince must’ve sent this much so it could be shared.”

“Thank you for being so generous.”

It seemed to have increased the value of Melchior’s name needlessly, but it couldn’t be helped.

.

.

.

Kleio took a walk around campus with a box of pies in one hand and a flask in the other. Eventually, all the whiskey in the flask disappeared. He didn’t drink it all alone, however, as about half was stolen by Behemoth. The cat, having had his drink, vanished into the forest for his area inspection. The whiskey in Kleio’s blood was forcing him to have a positive mindset that he didn’t feel.

‘I can’t put it off any longer. I have to be careful with Fran.’

Today, he made a plan to go to Fran after asking Reuba where he was. Kleio, grasping his box of lemon tarts, took a step towards the north entrance of the dormitory.

‘When taming an animal, you must feed it.’

In the last manuscript, Fran very much liked sweet and sour things. He would have to appeal to his sense of taste. This new manuscript often changed the direction of progress, but the detailed settings remained the same.

‘Today, I have a decision to make with Fran.’

He had tried to meet with Fran several times after returning to school, but he slipped away every time. During his free research time, he always had a magic lab, but there was no one with him, so he just focused on magic practice. Thanks to that, he had almost completed [Fire of the Emperor Angel], which used cast iron as a medium with [Property Amplification], [Ignition], [Tracking], and [Acceleration]. Also, while crafting the mantra, he learned a strange thing. Curiously, the more quoted a sentence in the original world, the stronger the magical power when used as a mantra. It was most noticeable when he tried to use his [Defense] magic with a new mantra.

‘Perhaps because it’s tradition. I heard that quoting expressions from epic poems is one of the techniques of mantra writing… isn’t it a bit lax?’

It was a world where the more you knew, the more mysteries popped up, but now wasn’t the time to freely study while he waited for Fran. Solving the problem of permanently activating tiplaum’s ether was now urgent. It was a strategic resource that would determine the country’s fortune, and it must be fully utilized for Albion to dominate in the next war. Kleio was in a hurry since the story was progressing much faster than before.

‘At the time of the royal advisory committee, the Duke Cruel did the same thing, but the problem of processing the tiplaum was still unresolved. The person who solves it is Fran… It’s a big deal because this kid didn’t show any interest in research. By the way, why is his room so high up? Ugh.’

The room of the student Francis Gabriel Hyde-Wight was on the sixth floor of the dorm’s northern spire. Initially, it was a solitary room given to disciplined students, but Francis had told him he would take it over. Eventually, he climbed his way to the top of the spiral staircase.

‘What is this trash?’

It wasn’t easy to find the door in all of it.

“Fran, are you in here?”

A sharp voice could be heard among the tower of paper sheets stacked as high as Kleio.

“Who are you?”

“Kleio Asel.”

“Shove off.”

He was rejected. Kleio carefully avoided the paper stacks and books to climb into the middle of the mess, where Fran sat in an armchair with the fabric torn off.

“Someone told you to come in?”

“I was planning on coming in regardless.”

“Would that be ignored if I were a teacher or a prince? You seem to be obedient only to those in power.”

“Hey, I don’t know what you’re misunderstanding…”

“Your ether sensitivity is high, and your magical utility is excellent. Having impeccable qualities, Zebedee must’ve scouted you.”

What Fran seemed to be looking at were Kleio’s first-semester academic evaluation documents.

“I don’t know if you know, but the documents that record student grades and personal information are treated as official documents. If they are stolen or copied illegally, the culprit is subject to judicial processing.”

“Ha! Judicial processing? After getting a nice medal, you think you can do whatever you want? Get out.”

“I don’t want to be in this dump for an hour either, but I have to stay with you this afternoon.”

“Such force…!”

“If you don’t like your personal space being invaded, why don’t you come to the practice room? I called you a few times, but you never showed up.”

“Is the hero who defended the capital going to stoop to overseeing a student?”

Kleio sighed with a hand on his waist.

“Why are you trying so hard?”

“I have some lemon tarts here.”

He quickly opened the box, and a delicious smell started to waft out.

“Why did you bring that…!”

“They’re delicious. May I look around the room?”

Kleio, having opened the box in front of Fran like he was feeding a stray cat, looked around the room. The voice coming from behind him gradually turned into the sound of eating pastries.

‘Since the royal family sent them, they must be quite tasty.’

The heavy dictionary cover lying on the bookshelf seemed to be slightly dug in the shape of a revolver, but he pretended not to see it. Turning to the desk by the window, he saw a political pamphlet — a leaflet, and a statement scrapped with a stylus. Among the unfamiliar prints, there was also a copy of the so-called leftist magazine -Clarion-.

‘Let’s think positively. Maybe he’s doing good research. He’s a wizard. Other characters’ abilities remained the same, so Fran’s did too.’

Fran was also a wizard in the last manuscript, but not a high-level one. The greatness of Doctor Hyde-Wight lay not in magic but in magical science. Kleio struggled with the clumsy words in his heart.

“-Clarion-. Fran, do you read this magazine too?”

He had read it before. Its main contributor was Gibril Blanche.

-Prospects of the World Revolution – The Success and Frustration of Republicanism: A Review of the Carolingian Republic Revolution-

Fran had put a bunch of red pins into that page. Looking at it, Kleio noticed something.

‘The style is the same, but the arguments are different. Is this his writing?’

“No, Fran… You weren’t a reader, but a contributor… Oh, that’s great.”

This time, he let out a sigh that came from his soul.

‘Don’t be so eager!’