Tales' Secret

Over the next twenty days, the capital's weather turned colder, and the winter season arrived.

Under Jinnie's ferocious training, at the cost of over two hours each morning and evening, and the necessary conditions of exhaustion, soreness, and aching muscles, Tales learned all three defensive stances, seven offensive stances, and one combined stance of Ancient Northern Military Swordsmanship. Only after his arms grew accustomed to the shape and weight of shield and sword did he finally switch to a larger set. According to Jinnie, he had moved from what she called "passive beating" into (still her words) "learning to be beaten."

"Before, you were the one getting beaten. Now, you need to know why you're the one getting beaten." That was the relentlessly strict Jinnie.

"Isn't it still getting beaten—hey, you haven't said 'start' yet—hiss!" That was the flustered Tales.

Under Gilbert's rigorous supervision, during his afternoon and evening cultural lessons, Tales also basically mastered advanced Common Tongue grammar and basic use of the ancient Imperial language. He began studying Starfall Noble Rhetoric and some necessary foreign language essentials (such as Far Eastern Proverbs and Elven Warnings), and through his tireless history lessons, he picked up basic knowledge of the Erroel World.

"In Starfall, a noble who cannot use ancient Imperial letters and classical grammar for rhetoric is unqualified. And Master Tales, I believe you'll need some time to familiarize yourself with the complex and varied ancient Imperial alphabet..."

The next second, watching Tales casually finish writing out the ancient Imperial alphabet, Gilbert sighed in frustration and tossed his teacher's dignity into the Ending Sea:

"...Uh, well, let's move on to the next chapter: basic ancient Imperial rhetoric."

In Tales's eyes, aside from that pony that delighted in throwing him off, and the bizarre noble etiquette, there seemed to be nothing left to trouble him. Even the Corleone Blood Race trio and that little girl Grand Duke hadn't come to bother him.

So... Tales nodded inwardly: it was time to explore the mysteries surrounding himself.

One afternoon when the weather was a bit warmer, Gilbert, clutching books and a walking stick, saw Tales standing on a chair in the study, searching through the heavy bookshelves. He couldn't help asking curiously:

"What are you looking for, my young sir?"

"Ah, Gilbert, give me a moment—following this alphabetical order, it should be here... Hey, why is this one so thick..."

Gilbert chuckled softly, walked to the shelf, and helped Tales, who was still low on energy after that morning's sword practice, pull the thick book out from between its neighbors.

"Thank you, Gilbert. Ah, that's all the books I need." Tales tiredly tossed the heavy tome onto the cedar desk, lining it up with the few already there.

"These are..." The Middle-Aged Noble stepped closer and read the titles on top: History of the Crescent Star Family, Starfall Royal Genealogy, Collection of Starfall Decrees and Royal Edicts, 10–612, Starfall Court Collection, along with several others, and the newly acquired Chronicles of the Starfall Kings.

"These are books I found by using the letters and words I've learned these past few weeks—ones that might record my family's history. I plan to study them slowly once I can read fluently." Tales scratched his head, a little embarrassed. "After all, being the only son of my father and knowing nothing about the Crescent Star, the royal family, or my blood relatives—that doesn't seem right."

Gilbert raised an eyebrow slightly, but then relaxed: recalling their conversation in the secret chamber, he knew he should never underestimate this young sir's adaptability and precociousness.

"Especially after hearing you talk about the 'King of Revival,' Tomond, and Lady Jinnie telling me about the Former King's eldest son—my uncle, His Highness Middil."

Tales spoke excitedly as he organized the books on the table, casually stacking a few volumes beneath the others.

The boy continued: "So I've grown even more curious about the Crescent Star and the family I come from."

Gilbert looked at Tales, smiled, and nodded slightly.

He didn't notice the slight irregularity in Tales's breathing.

"Your eagerness to learn and diligence truly hearten me... Lady Jinnie told you the story of the Former King's eldest son?"

"Mm, though not much," Tales nodded, pushing the books aside. "I know roughly that Middil the Brightstar was a good man with a gentle smile, and seemed very popular."

To Tales's surprise, Gilbert's eyes dimmed, as if stirred by some memory: "Far more than just popular..."

But he quickly recovered, nodding thoughtfully: "You probably won't find any records about him—after all, he was never Starfall's king, and he didn't die long ago."

Tales's eyes darted, and he naturally flipped open a book to cover the spines of the stack beside him, feigning curiosity: "In that case, Gilbert, did you know him? In your impression, what kind of person was my uncle, His Highness Middil?"

Gilbert paused briefly, then sank into thought, no longer paying attention to the pile of books at Tales's hand.

"His Highness Crown Prince Middil..." After a few seconds, Gilbert sighed softly, his tone nostalgic: "Back when the Former King Eddie was sixty, he was already assisting in state affairs. No one doubted then that he would be another Wise King after Mindis III."

"He oversaw foreign affairs for a time, and I was fortunate enough to work under His Highness."

"Back then, due to poor cooperation with my colleagues, I botched the task of receiving the Steel City delegation: I used a Crystal Goblet bearing the Holy Tree Emblem to entertain the Dwarf prince from the Hall of Kings."

"At the time, His Highness Middil used witty words to persuade that furious prince: the appearance of the Holy Tree goblet at the banquet was meant to commemorate the prince's Grandfather, who had once repelled the Holy Tree Kingdom's army."

"And I could only hang my head in shame."

"Afterward, His Highness Middil naturally didn't punish me—as benevolent as the rumors said—but he personally handed me that Holy Tree Emblem Crystal Goblet and said to me..."

At this point, Tales watched in amazement as Gilbert, his voice thick with emotion, repeated the words of the former Crown Prince:

"Gil, this Crystal Goblet is now worth the friendship between Revival Palace and the Hall of Kings—this is a debt you owe the kingdom. When you have accomplished enough merit to offset that value, return this goblet to me to clear your debt."

Gilbert gazed into the distance, silent for a long time.

Only Tales remained, relying on the stories Jinnie and Gilbert had told him, trying to sketch in his mind the image of that uncle: a prince of superb skill and noble character.

A few minutes later, Gilbert mused on: "The world says he was kind-hearted and gentle with others, but to us officials, His Highness's talent and wisdom were no less than his character and temperament."

"It's hard to imagine how one person could be both benevolent and dignified, both gentle and decisive—but His Highness Middil was exactly that kind of man," Gilbert set down the book, clasped his hands behind his back, admiration shining in his eyes. "It sounds exaggerated, but even now, I feel that the people of the Starfall Kingdom didn't deserve such a fine prince."

"It's a bit early to say this now," Gilbert seemed to snap back to reality, fixing a burning gaze on Tales. "But if possible, Master Tales, I hope you can also take His Highness Middil as your model."

"Starfall needs such an heir." Gilbert's serious, earnest look made Tales start slightly.

Just then, Tales remembered something.

"Gilbert, my uncle..." Tales lowered his head, hesitated a moment, then looked up again. "How exactly did he die?"

"You only said he stood alone with his sword, fighting alongside his guards at the palace gate."

Silence.

"Ah..." Gilbert closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh before speaking: "In the Year of Blood, he ordered the guards and soldiers to withdraw, walked alone into the crowd, and quelled the crisis of the mob storming the palace gates without a single soldier, without a single life lost."

"Unfortunately, though his guards reacted in time, assassins long hidden among the mob had prepared six poisoned daggers and knives for him—I was buried in my ever-worsening diplomatic work then. By the time I learned of the royal assassination... ah."

Tales looked into Gilbert's eyes and remained silent for a long time.

The boy once again recalled the story of Prince Midir that Jinnie had uncharacteristically told him a few weeks ago.

Especially her final two sentences:

"Tales, I know what Gilbert said to you today, and I don't know what you think of it yourself—but I still remember a letter Prince Midir once gave me. I only wish to pass it on to you unchanged:

Lady, I pardon you out of admiration, not pity.

I admire your courage to break free from the restraints and shatter the shackles.

But since you have made your choice, do not hesitate. Do not weakly return to that birdcage that once suffocated you—do not let the cage of your spirit lock away the wings of your freedom, nor sacrifice your true self for illusory rules.

I sincerely hope and bless you, may your life from now on belong only to yourself.

P.S. Best of luck in the Alert Officer qualification exam."

Tales was lost in thought, pondering the meaning of these words—under what state of mind had a crown prince, born into what he himself called a "birdcage," spoken them?

It wasn't until Gilbert called him back from his memories and daze, beginning their afternoon lessons.

As Tales listened to Gilbert explain the four different tenses of the Common Tongue using ancient proverbs and verses as examples, his gaze flickered to the stack of books at his side.

He hadn't told Gilbert the truth just now.

He wasn't looking for the Brilliant Star's family history, nor did he want to learn about his saintly uncle.

What Tales was searching for was information on the Elementalists.

From his very first day at Mindis Hall, Tales had been planning to investigate the matter of "Elemental Power." After the unstable but effective explosion at Weed Manor, his desire to uncover the secrets within himself had grown more urgent.

And the history of the Ending War that Gilbert had recounted, along with his attitude toward the "Scourges"—Elementalists like Echeida—only made him more alarmed.

Though... Tales whispered to himself: Yordel might have heard his conversation with Echeida.

The three books—Chronicles of the Ending War: Heaven-Shattering Earth-Rending, From the Final Empire to the Starfall Kingdom, and Cahill Ye Luo's Travelogue: Supplemental Collection of the Great Sundering's Past—were his true targets, hidden among many deceptive history books: the truth about the Ending War and those "Scourge" Elementalists.

In any case, until he ensured his safety, it was best not to reveal the secret of the strange "Elemental Power" inside him to anyone. Now that he could read and write, starting his investigation through books was the safest approach.

At that moment, following Gilbert's instructions, Tales began copying noble phrasing in different tenses.

Beneath his feigned ease and naturalness, he silently prayed that Gilbert wouldn't come over to personally browse these books, would leave after the lesson, and wouldn't offer to help him carry the books back to his room.

If all went smoothly and this peaceful life continued, perhaps he would soon make progress on the matter of his own secret.

But Tales would soon learn that for someone like him, a peaceful life was always just an illusion.

For instance, what Tales didn't know was that not far from Mindis Hall, a meeting concerning the secret he harbored was unfolding.

And his secret was on the verge of exposure.

Beneath the shade of a tree, Yordel stood silently, seemingly waiting respectfully for the person inside the pitch-black carriage ahead. But anyone who had seen him fight would know that Yordel was in a state of high alert, ready to strike at any moment.

"Long time no see, little Yordel."

With a hoarse, aged voice, an old figure trembled as he stepped down from the carriage door pushed open by the King.

Though Yordel's Extreme Realm perception had already told him who the other person in the carriage was.

But when he actually saw the man in person, Yordel couldn't help but frown behind his mask.

This was an old man in a simple black robe, leaning on a black wooden cane. His hair was sparse and gray, his face lined with wrinkles, yet his features were ordinary and unremarkable—unable to leave an impression even on the most perceptive observer.

"Won't you greet your father?" A voice, aged and hoarse, as if nurtured in darkness for years until it held no trace of emotion, slowly rose from the old man's throat.

In response to the old man's question, Yordel remained silent.

The old man grinned, revealing a toothless gum: "Well, I'd almost forgotten. Even though you carry my blood, your surname is Gato, not Hansen."

Yordel still made no move.

"I just returned not long ago," the old man said, seemingly long accustomed to Yordel's attitude, unperturbed as he continued.

"And my children brought me the results of the investigation in Red Quarter, along with an interesting matter."

Yordel still didn't reply.

The old man let out a soft laugh and spoke slowly:

"The Air Elementalist, Echeida Sackern, whom the Secret Section has pursued for twelve years without a trace, has been confirmed to have returned to the capital and appeared in Red Quarter."

Behind Yordel's mask, the gears began to turn, unnoticed.

"Though the Blood Bottle Gang is a gang he founded with that murderous madman of his kind, the renowned Air Elementalist's personal visit clearly wasn't just to wipe out the Brotherhood and clip the Black Sword's wings."

Yordel said nothing, but the gears behind his mask turned faster and faster.

"Don't be nervous, Mr. Gato," the old man said, letting out an unpleasant laugh with his hoarse, aged voice. "I'm just following His Majesty's orders to look into how you managed to seal an Elementalist while carrying the royal bloodline."

Yordel's head snapped up!

On his mask, a pair of Crystal Lenses instantly shifted from dark to bright yellow, fixedly staring at the old man in black.

"That mask is still as annoying as ever. I suggested long ago that His Majesty get rid of it..."

The old man in black, leaning on his cane, acted as if he hadn't noticed the gaze from behind the lenses.

He tottered up to Yordel and let out two unpleasant laughs:

"So then... as one of the bearers of the legendary anti-magic armament, the Supreme Sword Shield, Mr. Yordel Gato."

"Can you explain to me what exactly happened to the Air Elementalist on the night of the incident?"