Chapter 25 – Who Do You Think You Are!? (1)

If you lack the strength, borrow it. A simple principle. Whether from a tool, the environment, the situation itself, or even by exploiting someone’s reasoning, emotions, or mistakes…

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“What in the blazes is going on here?!”

“Stop this instant!”

By the time Seras arrived at the library, chaos reigned.

“Ugh!” Even instructors attempting to restrain Cariel were being flung aside, baffled and disoriented.

Cariel sat astride the prone Prince Alessius, a fistful of fiery red hair clutched in one hand while the other rained blows upon the prince’s face. Anyone who dared intervene found themselves effortlessly seized—a hand, an arm, a leg, an ankle—and just as effortlessly thrown off balance, stumbling, collapsing, or dragged to the ground. Like toddlers taking their first unsteady steps, they crumpled, unable to maintain their footing.

“Your Highness!” More reinforcements rushed in, only to meet the same fate.

Some attempted to use magic, but hesitated.

“Are you mad?! What if you hit the prince?!”

“I… I can control it…”

“And what if that lunatic uses His Highness as a shield? What then?!”

“N-no! Surely he wouldn’t go that far…”

It was into this maelstrom that Seras stepped.

“S-Seras!” The sight of these panicked individuals, resembling helpless fledglings or frightened fawns, filled her with disgust.

“…” She paused, pressing a hand to her forehead. Perhaps she should have come sooner, intervened before things escalated to this point.

That’s irrelevant now. She pushed the thought aside. Dwelling on useless emotions or past mistakes was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

Seras leaned against a nearby window, observing the scene unfold with detached interest.

“Hey! Aren’t you going to do anything?!”

“Why are you just standing there?!”

These fools… individually, they were quite intelligent. Yet, as a group, they devolved into a senseless mob. This was why Alessius always emphasized the importance of controlling the masses. It was a recurring disappointment, a familiar sense of futility that intensified in moments of crisis.

“It’s out of our hands. What’s the point?” Even the instructors couldn’t stop him. What could she possibly do? It wasn’t that intervention was impossible…

It’s too late. Even if they managed to subdue Cariel now, it wouldn’t be seen as a heroic rescue. The moment had passed. More importantly, Cariel’s actions had made the situation unpredictable.

By letting things escalate this far, he’s made his intentions clear. He wasn’t just acting out; he wanted to make a statement, to ensure the incident would be widely known. This wasn’t about the engagement; it was something far more twisted. And the sheer ferocity of his actions made it clear that intervening now risked further violence.

I won’t get caught in the crossfire.

If Alessius perceived this as her inaction, would he forgive her?

It doesn’t matter. If he blamed her for his own humiliation, their alliance was already fractured. Even if he feigned forgiveness now, resentment would fester, eroding their bond. She hadn’t chosen to align herself with Alessius out of necessity; it was a longstanding alliance built on mutual understanding.

What about Cariel?

“…” There was nothing she could say. The damage was done. She’d made her choice long ago, choosing her sister, Eras, over him. Blood was thicker than water. For a pragmatist like Seras, there had been no other option.

“Hyaah!” The air crackled with the scent of burning mana. A crimson rope materialized, snaking out to bind Cariel’s right arm.

“…” Cariel finally looked up, his gaze shifting from the battered prince to the newcomer, his expression utterly blank. That chilling indifference sent shivers down the spines of the onlookers.

“…My, my. Things have certainly… escalated in my absence.”

The head librarian, who also taught magic at the Academy, surveyed the scene. His wrinkled face and white hair and beard gave him an air of dignified authority. He took in the wreckage—broken furniture, overturned bookshelves, scattered books—and sighed. At least the damage seemed limited to physical violence. Even finding solace in that was disheartening. He shook his head, then raised his voice.

“This is outrageous! What is the meaning of this disturbance?! Clean this mess up immediately! And as for those responsible…”

Snap!

“…?” When had he broken free? The magical rope vanished, and Cariel resumed his assault, as if uninterrupted.

The librarian’s eyes widened in horror. “C-Cariel! Cease this violence this instant!” Even the normally unflappable instructor seemed flustered, hurriedly casting another spell.

And at that moment, Cariel stopped. He closed his eyes, offering no further resistance.

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News of the incident spread like wildfire. By sunset, Alessius, having received treatment, was summoned to the Emperor’s office.

He stood before the imposing doors as the guards announced his arrival. Permission to enter was granted immediately.

“You’ve arrived.”

The Emperor stood behind a large, elevated rectangular desk, meticulously reviewing documents and stamping them with the imperial seal. The desk was arranged in a U-shape, piled high with paperwork.

“I hear you were quite badly injured. Are you alright?”

“…My deepest apologies, Your Majesty.”

“It’s enough that you’ve learned from this experience.” The Emperor’s voice was calm, even gentle. “I knew a day like this would come, when you would face a harsh defeat.”

“…”

“Cariel is a patient and forgiving boy, but even he has his limits.” Even so…

“I’ll admit, even I was surprised by how long he endured. Didn’t he say it himself? Adults tend to dismiss these things as childish squabbles.”

“…” Alessius stiffened. The Emperor had quoted Cariel’s words verbatim. He’d known… all along.

“But that comment about ‘crossing a line’… that was rather intriguing.”

“Tell me, Alessius. Do you understand what he feels toward you now?”

“…”

“Answer me. I won’t ask again.”

“Does he… hate me?”

“And who do you think is responsible for that hatred?”

“…I am.”

“Why do you think he chose to act now?”

“That…” Alessius hesitated.

The Emperor continued stamping documents, the rhythmic thump of the seal punctuating the silence.

Thump! “Do you not know?”

Thump! “Can’t you see even one step ahead?”

Thump! “Let alone two, or three.”

Thump! “Can you not even grasp the obvious truth staring you in the face?”

Thump! “Do you not see it?”

“Is it… because of the engagement… to my sister?”

“Wrong.” Thump! “It’s because you crossed a line.” Thump!

The Emperor paused, picking up a document that seemed to require closer scrutiny. He rested his chin in his free hand, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“So, tell me. What line do you think you crossed?”

“Was it because… I bullied him?”

“That’s been going on for years. Why now?” As expected. The Emperor knew. He’d always known. Yet he’d never intervened.

Because it was a childish squabble. A petty conflict between children. Even between those of royal blood. Even if it escalated into something more… it was still, in essence, a child’s fight. It would be beneath him, beneath his dignity, to interfere. There were those who prioritized pragmatism over pride, but such actions only revealed a fundamental misunderstanding of true authority.

When imperial power faltered, when the nobility’s prestige was threatened, it wasn’t brute force or direct confrontation that restored order. Those who resorted to such tactics only revealed their own weakness and insecurity.

“I could have stopped it. I could have ordered you to cease your behavior. But that would have been forced obedience, not a true understanding. Would you have truly accepted it? Internalized the lesson?” The Emperor’s gaze sharpened. “When my own father ordered my brothers to stop tormenting me, they didn’t stop. Not for a moment. Do you know why?”

“…No, Your Majesty.”

“Think before you speak. A thoughtless ‘I don’t know’ is unacceptable. I didn’t summon you here to hear such careless answers.” Despite the calm tone, Alessius felt a chill. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists, fighting to control the tremor that threatened to run through him.

“Do you need more time?”

“…No, Your Majesty.”

“Then answer me.”

“…”

“Well?”

He took a deep breath, stalling for time.

“…Was it because… Your Majesty… allowed it?”

“Why do you ask me? I asked for your thoughts. Is that truly your answer? Did I ask you to guess my intentions?”

“That…”

“Answer me.” The Emperor’s voice remained level, yet Alessius felt a blade at his throat.

“I…”

Tsk tsk. The Emperor clicked his tongue.

“Why hesitate over such a simple question? It’s because there wasn’t enough fear. Not enough terror.”

“…”

“I’ve given you a lesson. Now, tell me. What does it mean to have ‘crossed a line’?”

I don’t know. I don’t understand. Am I that stupid? He swallowed the words.

“Have you still not realized it?” Tsk tsk. “If it were Cariel, he would have understood my intentions without a word.”

“…” Again. And again. Cariel. Why did his father always praise Cariel above him? Was it overestimation? Or was it… him being underestimated? But one thing was certain: his father knew far less about Cariel than he did about Alessius.

“To underestimate him is a reflection of your own limited perspective.”

“…!!” It was as if the Emperor had peered into his very soul. He sighed, his expression a mixture of disappointment and frustration.

“That is precisely why you suffered such a humiliating defeat today. Powerless to even defend yourself.”

“…”

“Even an emperor can be felled by a stray arrow or wounded by a cripple’s spear if caught off guard.” And yet…

“Why were you so careless? So complacent? So convinced of your own invincibility?”

“That’s…”

“Speak clearly. Where did you learn to mumble?”

“My… apologies.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology. Why apologize to me? There’s someone else who deserves your apology.” The one you should truly fear and respect…

“Is not me. It is your own pettiness, your flawed character, your narrow vision, and your injustice that you should fear and despise.” Hate the sin, not the sinner.

“And yet, you’ve done the opposite. Why?”

“…”

“Have you gone mute? Why are you silent?” The Emperor’s gaze finally locked onto Alessius’s.

“Don’t feign incompetence. It’s a pathetic charade.”

“Look at me.”

“Did I ever expect you to be exceptional?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Then what did I expect of you?”

“…To hold my position. To fulfill my duty. To not shirk my responsibilities.”

“You’re good with words.”

“…”

“Both Elhermina and Cariel found their places without any guidance. Why haven’t you?”

Cariel? Why… why bring up Cariel again? What had that boy done to earn such praise? Whatever he’d accomplished in the past was irrelevant now. Past glory was no guarantee of present strength.

“I’ve indulged you. I’ve given you every advantage. And yet, you fail to understand. Tsk tsk.” The Emperor shook his head. “You fool. How much more must I spell out for you? If Cariel were even slightly more malicious, you would not have escaped unscathed.”

“Father! How can you… how can you say such things… to your own son?!” I am your son! Why…

“Both you and Cariel are like sons to me. The same goes for Luelde.”

“…”

“When Elhermina was too young, Cariel stepped in for her. No one asked him to. He did it of his own volition. He gathered everyone and convinced them it was necessary.” At such a young age…

“Did I ever pressure you to be like him? Not once. Haven’t I always told you to forge your own path?”

“I… I just…”

“I only ever asked you to cultivate character… and dignity.” Tsk tsk.

“Return tomorrow morning. I will hear your thoughts then.” He dismissed Alessius with a wave of his hand. “You are dismissed.”

“…” Even as the doors closed behind him, the Emperor continued working, the rhythmic thump of the imperial seal echoing in the hallway.

The image of his father, his words echoing in his mind, lingered as Alessius walked away. He felt a cold dread settle in his stomach.