I had known Reinhardt since he was a child.
Even back then, he was the same kind of person.
Determined.
Straightforward.
The sort who would keep charging forward as if the word
yield
had never existed in his vocabulary.
Unlike me, he had never cared much about status.
He never once looked at position, rank, or authority the way I did.
He wasn't the type to chase power for the sake of standing above others.
He wanted to become stronger.
That was all.
And perhaps because of that...
He was more sincere in his warrior code than I was.
Far more sincere.
...
We had fought over that before.
At the time, Reinhardt had been training again instead of attending his home lessons.
As usual.
The home tutor sat in the receiving room with an expression that had already grown tired from repeating the same complaint too many times.
"Even today, Reinhardt is not attending home tuition?"
His gaze drifted toward the empty seat beside me, then back again, as though hoping Reinhardt might magically appear out of guilt.
"At this rate, he will not be able to survive the society he has to go in future."
I let out a short breath, stood up, and said, "I will be back in a moment."
Then I headed straight toward the training grounds of our house.
Today...
I was going to teach him a lesson.
The training grounds were open to the wind.
Weapons racks lined the edges of the yard.
The packed earth had already been worn by countless footsteps, sword swings, and practice duels.
In the middle of it all...
Reinhardt was training alone.
Sweat covered his body.
His hair was damp and clinging to his forehead.
He moved with stubborn intensity, repeating the same motions again and again, never showing even a hint of exhaustion in his expression.
I stopped at the edge of the yard and watched him for a while.
...
Even now...
His effort was undeniable.
His eagerness too.
I clenched my fist.
It wasn't enough to be strong.
That was meaningless if he couldn't direct that strength properly.
Strength without purpose...
Strength without discipline...
It would only become waste.
I picked up a sword from the weapon store nearby and walked toward him.
"You have been training uselessly."
I raised my voice.
Reinhardt stopped mid-swing.
Slowly, he turned around and looked at me without saying anything.
His face was already slick with sweat.
His expression remained as unreadable as ever.
"...Tch."
I pointed my sword toward him.
"Let me teach you the difference in our power."
He met my gaze with that same flat, unresponsive stare.
"...Now come at me."
I wanted to provoke him.
And it worked.
He tightened his grip on his sword and marched toward me with all the force his small body could gather, as though he believed sheer will alone could bridge the gap between us.
So earnest.
So stubborn.
So impossible.
I thrust my sword toward the weak point between his weapon and arm, the gap where his guard was least stable.
The impact struck him cleanly.
He was thrown several steps backward.
I lowered my eyes toward him with deliberate arrogance, making sure he understood I was looking down on him.
Yet...
His face remained unchanged.
That dead fish expression of his didn't move at all.
He simply stood there and tried again.
Then again.
And again.
He attacked from different angles.
Different rhythms.
Different footwork.
But...
He didn't stand much of a chance.
Not against me.
Not then.
Eventually, he collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily.
Beaten.
Yet somehow...
Still staring at me with that same tenacity.
"You are amazing, brother."
His voice carried no resentment.
Only admiration.
I answered coldly.
"You are just weak."
"If you continue skipping class, then not only will you stay weak in terms of physical strength..."
"...you will also remain dumber than the other nobles."
I looked down at him from above.
There was a pause.
Reinhardt slowly raised his head.
Then he looked directly at me.
"...Then will you train me?"
He stood up again, sword still in hand.
His question irritated me.
His audacity always did.
"Don't we have an instructor?"
"Why do I need to train you anyway?"
I frowned.
"Also... what will you even do by getting stronger?"
Reinhardt didn't flinch.
He looked straight into my eyes.
His voice was calm.
Serious.
Unwavering.
"I want power enough to eliminate any threat."
For a brief moment...
I looked away from his eyes.
I knew where that conviction came from.
I understood it too well.
But...
"Hah..."
"You are still a kid."
I said it with a proud smile, carefully hiding whatever emotion had tried to surface.
Then I turned around and began walking back toward the classroom.
After taking only a few steps, I stopped.
"...Though, what do I have in return for teaching you?"
I asked while slightly turning my head back toward him.
Reinhardt began thinking immediately.
There was no bargaining skill in that expression.
No practiced answer.
He looked like he had nothing prepared.
And that was exactly why classroom education mattered.
It taught more than letters and arithmetic.
It taught negotiation.
It taught structure.
It taught the world.
I resumed walking.
"Well..."
"If you properly attend class..."
"...then perhaps I can think about training with you until you reach academy age."
Hearing that, Reinhardt looked away, trying to hide the happiness creeping into his expression.
"...Ah."
It was a tiny response.
Barely more than a breath.
Still...
I noticed it.
A faint smile tugged at my lips as I walked away.
...
"Brother."
"Brother."
"Brother..."
Valdrik opened his eyes.
White ceiling.
Soft bedding.
The smell of medicine lingered in the air.
He was lying on a bed in the infirmary.
For a moment, he remained still, blinking once as his mind finished crossing the boundary between dream and waking life.
Then he looked beside him.
Reinhardt was sitting there.
Waiting.
As though he had never left.
That was when Valdrik realized it had only been a memory from the past.
"...Ahh. Te...tee te."
Valdrik tried to sit up too quickly.
Immediately, Reinhardt leaned forward and supported him.
"You still need to rest, brother."
Valdrik clicked his tongue and shook off Reinhardt's hands.
"I'm fine."
"No need to worry."
He began gathering his things and preparing to leave the infirmary bed behind.
Reinhardt simply watched him.
He knew his brother's personality well enough not to stop him more aggressively.
He knew Valdrik would stand up no matter what anyone said.
"See you later, brother."
Reinhardt spoke as Valdrik walked away.
Valdrik paused at the door.
Then answered without looking back.
"Ah, later."
He left the infirmary with steady steps, pretending not to show the weakness his body still carried.
--------
The night streets echoed with the rhythmic pounding of armored boots.
A squad of **Knights of Order** raced through the dimly lit roads, their lanterns swinging wildly with every stride. The orange flames inside flickered violently, casting long, distorted shadows across the stone streets and abandoned alleyways.
Leading them was their commander.
Her silver armor reflected the pale moonlight with every movement, and the heavy cloak flowing behind her snapped sharply in the cold night wind.
Unlike the knights following her, her breathing remained perfectly steady despite maintaining a speed few could match.
She was desperately searching for someone.
No...
More than anyone else present, she wanted to find that person.
Every new corpse only deepened the hatred burning inside her.
The roads ahead split into several narrow alleys.
She immediately raised a hand.
"Split up."
Her voice carried the authority of someone long accustomed to command.
"Search every route."
"Pay attention to anything unusual. Even the smallest inconsistency."
The knights nodded without hesitation.
"Yes, Commander!"
They divided into multiple groups and disappeared into different streets.
The commander remained still for only a brief second before speaking again.
"It's already night."
"Don't let your guard down."
Her warning lingered in the air even after everyone had dispersed.
Silence returned.
Only the distant chirping of insects and the sound of footsteps echoed between the buildings.
Then...
"Aaaaaaah!"
A terrified scream erupted somewhere deep within the maze of backstreets.
Every knight stopped simultaneously.
Their heads turned toward the sound.
"It's coming from the four o'clock direction!"
One of the knights shouted.
The commander closed her eyes for a brief moment, estimating the distance.
Then she nodded.
"You all continue searching the surrounding area."
"I'll handle that location myself."
Without waiting for a response, she turned and sprinted toward the scream with explosive speed.
Her cape billowed violently behind her.
"The moment you stand before me..."
"...it will be your end."
She whispered those words only to herself.
---
Elsewhere.
Two knights who had separated from the main squad searched another district with their lanterns raised.
The streets were deserted.
Broken barrels.
Old crates.
Dark windows.
Nothing unusual.
One knight let out a slow breath.
"Nothing seems odd here."
His partner didn't answer.
"...Oi."
Still no response.
"Oi, are you listening?"
The first knight frowned and turned around.
His companion stood completely frozen.
His lantern trembled violently in his hand.
The light pointed toward something lying further down the alley.
"...What happened?"
The first knight hurried over.
Then he saw it.
"...Oi..."
His own words died in his throat.
A corpse lay collapsed against the stone wall.
An arrow had pierced directly through its skull.
Attached to that arrow was a wooden board.
A message had been carved into it.
Neither knight spoke.
---
On another street...
The commander found a corpse almost identical to the first.
She slowly crouched beside it.
Her eyes moved toward the wooden board hanging from the arrow.
It read:
**"What is the difference between justice, revenge, and management?"**
Silence.
Her fist slowly tightened.
The leather of her glove creaked under the pressure.
"As if you have the right to talk about justice."
Her voice carried barely restrained fury.
Before she could inspect the scene further, one of the communication crystals hanging from her waist began glowing.
A report.
Another corpse.
The description matched exactly.
She immediately contacted the nearby patrol.
"Secure this location."
"Do not touch the body until investigators arrive."
She stood up at once.
Then sprinted toward the newly reported scene.
"How long do you intend to keep mocking us...
...before you're finally satisfied, you monster?"
---
By the time she arrived...
Two knights had already secured the area.
They immediately stepped aside.
"Commander."
She walked between them and lowered her gaze.
Another corpse.
Another arrow.
Another board.
This one read:
**"I have no intention of being killed by a fool like you."**
For a brief instant...
Pure rage surfaced across her face.
Her jaw tightened.
The veins along her clenched fist became visible.
"...Commander?"
One knight called cautiously.
"Commander..."
He could tell she was barely containing herself.
"...Co..."
Before he could finish speaking...
She turned around and started walking away.
A few steps later, her walk became a sprint.
"Continue searching."
"Report every single thing you find."
Her voice echoed behind her as she disappeared into another street.
---
--------
Far away from those bloodstained alleys...
Inside the royal palace...
Warm golden light illuminated an extravagant chamber.
Every wall displayed paintings by renowned artists.
Ancient artifacts rested inside crystal display cases.
Decorative armor stood like silent guardians along the walls.
Even a single ornament inside this room could rival the value of an ordinary noble's estate.
At the center sat a young man upon an ornate chair crafted from polished silver and gold, its back embroidered with intricate golden threads over white fabric.
One leg rested casually over the other.
A wine glass slowly rotated between his fingers.
The deep crimson wine reflected the candlelight.
He smiled faintly.
"I heard you lost in battle..."
"...to a normal-class student, Valdrik."
The man spoke without even looking up immediately.
Valdrik remained kneeling.
His head lowered respectfully.
"Julian Morcant-sama..."
He couldn't find any words beyond that.
Silence lingered.
Julian finally took a slow sip of wine.
"Don't worry."
"I know your abilities."
"I have no intention of punishing you."
His expression remained relaxed.
"Though..."
"...it is certainly interesting."
"A person this useful was hiding among the common class."
He paused.
Another sip.
The crystal made a soft sound as he slowly rotated the glass again.
"Personally..."
"I don't have much attachment to my position."
"I believe we should use whatever..."
"...and whoever..."
"...can be useful."
He crossed one leg over the other more comfortably.
"But that doesn't mean everyone should be treated equally."
His tone remained calm.
Almost conversational.
"To maintain a kingdom..."
"...people must continue believing in their own doubts."
"Their own illusions."
"Their own models of reality."
"So long as none of them cross certain boundaries..."
"...the system continues to function."
He placed the wine glass gently onto the nearby table.
Then leaned forward.
"Though first..."
"...I need to know his limits."
"Depending on those limits..."
"I'll decide whether he should work beneath me..."
"...beside me..."
"...or..."
His smile deepened ever so slightly.
"...depending on his actions..."
"...whether he should become a cautionary example..."
"...or our common enemy."
His eyes shifted toward Valdrik.
"What do you think?"
Valdrik answered honestly.
"He is certainly much stronger than me."
"I don't know by how much."
"Our fight wasn't long enough."
"And..."
"...he was most likely holding back."
Julian's eyes widened slightly.
A genuine smile appeared.
"Hm..."
"He may be a much bigger fish than I originally thought."
He picked up the wine glass once more.
Silence settled over the room as he thought.
Then another subject entered his mind.
"Have the Knights of Order solved the serial killer case?"
"No."
"They haven't."
"But according to them..."
"...they're doing everything they can."
"I see..."
Julian slowly swirled the wine.
Then smiled.
"Then why don't we let Daimadō Mahō Gakuen's Student Council assist them?"
"We might obtain additional information about him during the investigation."
He looked toward Valdrik again.
"As I recall..."
"...your younger brother recently became his servant."
For the first time during the conversation...
A trace of panic crossed Valdrik's face.
Julian noticed it immediately.
"Relax."
"I'll try to spare your brother if things go south."
Valdrik lowered his head again.
"Thank you."
Julian merely smiled.
'Even if his brother dies...'
'...I still benefit.'
'The emotional attachment restraining Valdrik will disappear.'
'At that point...'
'...he'll be more vulnerable than ever.'
'Winning his complete loyalty would become far easier.'
'Either outcome benefits me...'
'Also... I need more data on this commoner.'
Julian thinks .
Julian quietly placed the wine glass back onto the table.
Then leaned comfortably against his chair.
His decision had already been made.
"Get him involved in this case."
His voice carried quiet authority.
Valdrik immediately bowed.
"Understood."
He rose, offered one final respectful salute to **Prince Julian Morcant**, and silently left the chamber.
The heavy doors closed behind him.
The room returned to silence.
Only the faint sound of wine swirling inside a golden glass remained.