Over the next twenty days, the weather in the Royal Capital turned colder, and winter arrived.
Under Jinnie's fierce training, Tales spent more than two hours each morning and evening practicing. After exhausting himself until his back and waist ached, he finally learned all three defensive forms, seven offensive forms, and one combined form of Ancient Northern Military Swordsmanship. Once his arms grew accustomed to the shape and weight of the shield and sword, he finally switched to a larger sword and shield. According to Jinnie, he had moved from the "passively getting beaten" stage—her words—into the "learning how to get beaten" stage, also her words.
"You used to be the one getting beaten. Now, you need to understand why you're the one getting beaten." That was the exceedingly strict Jinnie.
"But isn't it still just getting beaten—ouch, Lady, you haven't even said to start—hiss!" That was the flustered Tales.
Under Gilbert's strict supervision, Tales also basically mastered the advanced grammar of the Common Tongue and the basic usage of the ancient Imperial language during his afternoon and evening cultural lessons. He began studying Starfall Noble Rhetoric and some necessary foreign-language knowledge, such as Far Eastern Proverbs and Elven Warnings. Through his relentless history lessons, he also learned some basic facts about the Erroel World.
"In Starfall, a noble who cannot use the ancient Imperial alphabet and ancient grammar for rhetoric is unqualified. And, Mr. Tales, I believe you will need some time to familiarize yourself with the complex and varied ancient Imperial letters..."
The next second, after watching Tales casually write out the entire ancient Imperial alphabet, Gilbert sighed gloomily and threw the teacher's dignity into the Ending Sea:
"...Er, all right. Let's move on to the next chapter, the basic rhetoric of the ancient Imperial language."
In Tales's eyes, apart from the pony that took pleasure in throwing him around and the bizarre noble etiquette, there seemed to be nothing else troubling him. Even the trio of Blood Race from Corleone and that loli Grand Duke had not come to bother him.
So... Tales nodded faintly inwardly. It was time to investigate the mysteries surrounding me.
One slightly warmer afternoon, Gilbert, carrying books and holding his cane, saw Tales standing on a chair in the study and searching through the heavy bookshelves. He could not help asking curiously:
"What are you looking for, my little sir?"
"Ah, Gilbert, wait a moment—according to the order of these letters, it should be here... Huh? Why is this one so thick..."
Gilbert chuckled and walked over to the bookshelf. He helped Tales, whose strength had been sapped by his morning sword practice, pull the thick book from between the others.
"Thank you, Gilbert. Ah, there we go. Now the books are complete." Exhausted, Tales tossed the thick book onto the fir desk, arranging it with the several books already there.
"This is..." The middle-aged nobleman walked closer and saw the titles of the books on top: History of the Crescent Star Family, Starfall Royal Genealogy, Collection of Starfall Decrees and Royal Orders from 10–612, Starfall Court Collection, and several others, along with the newly acquired Chronicles of the Starfall Kings.
"These? I tried using the letters and words I've learned over the past few weeks to find some books that might contain the history of My Home's family. I planned to study them slowly after I could read them fluently." Tales scratched his head and said awkwardly, "After all, as my father's only son, knowing absolutely nothing about the Crescent Star Family, the royal family, or my blood relatives... That doesn't seem right."
Gilbert's brow lifted slightly, but he soon relaxed. Thinking of their conversation in the secret room, he knew he absolutely could not underestimate the little sir's adaptability and precociousness.
"Especially after hearing you mention King of Revival Tomond, and after Lady Jinnie told me about the Former King's eldest son—my eldest uncle, Prince Midir."
As Tales spoke excitedly, he organized the books on the desk, discreetly sliding several of them beneath the others.
The boy continued, "So I became even more curious about the Crescent Star Family, the family I was born into."
Gilbert looked at Tales, smiled, and nodded slightly.
He failed to notice the slight irregularity in Tales's breathing.
"Your eagerness to learn and diligence truly gladden me... Lady Jinnie told you about the Former King's eldest son?"
"Yes, though not very much." Tales nodded and pushed the books aside. "I only know that Middil the Brightstar was a good man with a gentle smile who seemed to be very popular with everyone."
To Tales's surprise, Gilbert's eyes dimmed, as if something had stirred a memory. "He was far more than popular..."
But he quickly recovered and nodded thoughtfully. "I'm afraid you won't find many records about him. After all, he was never the king of Starfall, and he died not so long ago."
Tales's eyes shifted. He naturally opened a book to block the spines of the stack beside him and said with curiosity, "In that case, Gilbert, did you know him? In your memory, what kind of person was my eldest uncle, Prince Midir?"
Gilbert froze slightly, then sank into thought, no longer paying attention to the pile of books beside Tales.
"His Highness Crown Prince Midir..." Several seconds later, Gilbert sighed softly, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "When Former King Eddie was sixty, he had already begun assisting with state affairs. At the time, no one doubted that he would become another wise king after Mindis III."
"He oversaw foreign affairs for a period, and I was fortunate enough to serve under His Highness."
"Back then, because of poor cooperation with my colleagues, I botched the reception of the delegation from Steel City: I entertained the Dwarf prince from Hall of Kings with a Crystal Goblet bearing the Holy Tree Emblem."
"At the time, Prince Midir used witty words to persuade the enraged prince that the Holy Tree Goblet had appeared at the banquet to commemorate the prince's grandfather, who had once repelled the army of the Holy Tree Kingdom."
"And I could only hang my head in shame."
"Afterward, of course, Prince Midir did not punish me—as magnanimous as the rumors said—but he personally handed me the Crystal Goblet bearing the Holy Tree Emblem and said..."
At this point, Tales watched in amazement as Gilbert repeated the words of the former Crown Prince in a voice filled with emotion:
"Gilbert, the current value of this Crystal Goblet is equal to the friendship between Revival Palace and Hall of Kings. This is the debt you owe the kingdom. When you have rendered enough service to repay its value, return this goblet to me and settle your debt."
Gilbert gazed into the distance and remained silent for a long time.
Only Tales remained, laboriously sketching the image of his uncle in his mind from the stories Jinnie and Gilbert had told him: a Prince who possessed extraordinary means and noble character.
Several minutes later, Gilbert continued pensively, "Everyone says he was kindhearted and gentle toward others. But in the eyes of us officials, His Highness's talent and wisdom were in no way inferior to his character and temperament."
"It is difficult to imagine how someone could be both magnanimous and dignified, both gentle and decisive—but Prince Midir was such a person." Gilbert set down the books and clasped his hands behind his back, admiration shining in his eyes. "It may sound exaggerated, but even now, I feel that the people of the Starfall Kingdom were unworthy of such an excellent prince."
"It may be too early to say this." Gilbert seemed to come back to himself. He looked intently at Tales. "But if possible, little sir Tales, I hope you can also take Prince Midir as your example."
"Starfall needs an heir like that." Gilbert's solemn, earnest gaze made Tales tremble slightly.
Just then, Tales suddenly remembered something.
"Gilbert, my eldest uncle..." Tales lowered his head and hesitated for a moment, then raised it and asked, "How exactly did he die?"
"You only told me that he fought to the death at the palace gates, sword in hand, alongside the guards."
Silence.
"Alas..." Gilbert closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh before speaking. "During the Year of Blood, he ordered the guards and soldiers to withdraw, then walked alone into the crowd. Without expending a single soldier or taking a single life, he quelled the rioters' attempt to storm the palace gates."
"Unfortunately, although his guards reacted in time, assassins who had plotted for a long time and hidden among the rioters had prepared six short swords and daggers coated in deadly poison. At the time, I was overwhelmed with my worsening diplomatic duties. By the time I learned that the royal family had been attacked... Alas."
Tales looked into Gilbert's eyes and remained silent for a long time.
The boy again recalled the story of Prince Midir that Jinnie had unusually told him several weeks earlier.
Especially her final two sentences:
"Tales, I know what Gilbert told you today, but I don't know what you think of it. However—I still remember a letter Prince Midir once gave me. I only wish to pass it on to you exactly as it was written:
Lady, I pardon you out of admiration, not pity.
I admire your courage to break free of restraint and shatter your chains.
But since you have made your choice, do not hesitate. Do not weakly return to the birdcage that once suffocated you. Do not let the cage of the spirit lock away your wings of freedom, and do not sacrifice your true self for illusory rules.
I sincerely hope for and bless your future. May your life from this day forward belong solely to you.
Best wishes on your Alert Officer qualification examination."
Tales was absorbed in pondering the meaning of those words. A Crown Prince born within the very "birdcage" he had spoken of—what state of mind had he been in when he said them?
It was not until Gilbert pulled him back from his memories and daze that they began their afternoon lessons.
As Tales listened to Gilbert explain the four different voices of the human Common Tongue using ancient proverbs and poems as examples, his gaze flicked toward the pile of books beside him.
He had not told Gilbert the truth just now.
He was not looking for the history of the Crescent Star Family, nor did he want to learn about his saintly eldest uncle.
Tales was looking for information about Magic Users.
From the first day he arrived at Mindis Hall, Tales had been planning to investigate "magic." After experiencing that unstable but genuinely effective explosion at Weed Manor, his desire to uncover his own secrets had grown even more urgent.
And the history of The Ending War that Gilbert had described, along with his attitude toward the "Calamity"—so-called Magic Users like Ashida—made Tales even more alarmed.
Though... Tales quietly told himself: Yordel might have heard his conversation with Ashida.
Chronicles of the Ending War: Heaven-Shattering Earth-Rending, From the Final Empire to the Starfall Kingdom, and Cahill's Travels: Supplementary Collection on the History of the Great Sundering were his true targets, hidden among the many deceptive history books. They concerned the truth of the Ending War and those "Calamity" Magic Users.
In any case, before ensuring his safety, it was best not to reveal to anyone the secret of the strange "magic" within his body. After learning to read and write, beginning his investigation through books was the safest method.
Now, following Gilbert's instructions, Tales began copying noble expressions in different voices.
Compared with his affected ease and naturalness, he silently prayed inwardly that Gilbert would not come over to inspect these books himself, that he would leave after the lesson, and that he would not help carry the books back to his room.
If everything went smoothly and these peaceful days continued, perhaps he could soon make some progress in uncovering his own secrets.
But Tales would soon learn that, for someone like him, a peaceful life was always merely a facade.
For instance, Tales did not know that not far outside Mindis Hall, a meeting concerning the secrets he had hidden was already taking place.
And his secret was in danger of being exposed.
Under the shade of a tree, Yordel stood quietly, seemingly waiting respectfully for the person inside the completely black carriage before him. But anyone who had seen him fight knew that Yordel was currently in a state of extreme tension, ready to attack at any moment.
"Long time no see, little Yordel."
As the old, hoarse voice rang out, an aged figure trembled his way down from the carriage door opened by the king.
Although the senses of the Extreme Realm had already told Yordel who the other person in the carriage was, when he truly saw the man himself, Yordel's brows still furrowed behind his mask.
It was an old man dressed in a simple black robe, leaning on a black wooden cane. His hair was sparse and gray, his face covered in wrinkles, yet his features were utterly ordinary and unremarkable—not even the keenest observer would remember him.
"Won't you say hello to your father?" A voice that seemed to have been steeped in darkness for years, until it had lost all emotion, slowly emerged from the old man's throat.
Facing the old man's question, Yordel remained silent.
The old man grinned, exposing gums with only a few teeth remaining. "All right, I almost forgot. Even though my blood flows through your veins, your surname is Gato, not Hansen."
Yordel remained motionless.
"I only returned recently." The old man seemed long accustomed to Yordel's attitude and was not offended in the slightest. He continued, "And my children brought back the results of their investigation into the Red Quarter, along with something interesting."
Yordel still did not reply.
The old man gave a soft chuckle and slowly said:
"The Air Elementalist whom the Secret Section pursued for twelve years without finding a single clue, Echeida Sackern, has been confirmed to have returned to the Royal Capital and was seen in the Red Quarter."
The gears behind Yordel's mask began turning, unbeknownst to anyone.
"Although the Blood Bottle Gang was founded by him and that murderous maniac of his kind, the famed Air Elementalist coming in person was clearly not merely to eliminate the Brotherhood and cut off Black Sword's wings."
Yordel said nothing, but the gears behind his mask began turning faster and faster.
"Don't be nervous, Mr. Gato." The old man let out an unpleasant laugh in his aged, hoarse voice. "I'm only following His Majesty's orders to investigate how you managed to seal a Magic User while carrying the royal bloodline."
Yordel abruptly raised his head!
The Crystal Lenses on his mask instantly shifted from dark to bright yellow, fixing their gaze on the old man in black.
"That mask is still as irritating as ever. I suggested long ago that His Majesty throw it away..."
The old man leaned on his cane, seemingly unaware of the gaze shooting at him from behind the lenses.
He trembled his way in front of Yordel and gave two unpleasant laughs.
"So... as one of the bearers of the legendary anti-magic weaponry Supreme Sword Shield, Mr. Yordel Gato."
"Can you explain exactly what happened to the Air Elementalist on the night of the incident?"