Chapter 259. The Academy Without Radel (2)
“Radel Silvert Cretian Followers’ Gathering?”
Second-year Transformation Magic major Jirko Reb frowned.
In his hand was a suspicious invitation.
He opened it, then froze when he saw the words written boldly at the top.
“Why would this be sent to ?”
Why on earth would it say followers of the 8th Prince?
Those words had absolutely nothing to do with him.
Yet the invitation was unmistakably addressed to him.
A first-year who claid to be the followers’ representative had personally handed it over just monts ago.
l“I apologize for failing to recognize you before. This ti, I will serve you properly.”
After saying sothing completely incomprehensible, the junior had emphasized that the eting must be secret, placed the invitation into Jirko’s hand, and left.
What nonsense.
For a mont, Jirko wondered if it was a case of mistaken identity.
But that junior was also a Transformation Magic major.
There was no way he wouldn’t know Jirko Reb, the top student of the second-year Transformation Magic departnt.
More importantly, Jirko recognized him as well.
That first-year had been the Transformation Magic representative during the last Academy sports tournant—
and one of the kids who had constantly followed Radel around.
Sure, it was true that Radel was technically his junior.
And yes, compared to other first-years, one could say they were sowhat connected.
But there was absolutely no personal friendship.
In fact, Jirko Reb had been making a conscious effort to avoid Radel within the Academy.
It wasn’t because he felt that he’d lose sothing again if they t.
Absolutely not.
“…Still.”
Jirko’s brow furrowed.
“I am a little curious.”
What kind of people were those annoying junior’s followers, anyway?
They were clearly not aboveboard.
If they were, they wouldn’t be inviting people in secret.
“Why all the secrecy?”
They were nothing like ordinary royal factions.
The more he thought about it, the more suspicious it beca.
“What do they even do at these etings?”
And then—true to a mage’s nature—the thing that tempted him most reared its head.
Curiosity toward the unknown.
***
“Tarun Venders? Why are you here…?”
Jirko Reb pointed at the man standing across from him.
Tarun Venders, a second-year Combat Magic major, looked just as stunned.
“Jirko Reb? You’re asking that?”
At the sound of his own na, Jirko flinched and pulled his hood down lower.
He had never imagined he’d run into another second-year who recognized him at a followers’ gathering.
After agonizing over the invitation, Jirko had ultimately given in to curiosity and co.
Only to discover Tarun Venders already there.
Both wore cloaks, but it wasn’t enough to fool fellow second-years.
Worse, they lived on the sa floor of the Blue Eagle Dormitory.
They weren’t close—just the kind who exchanged greetings in passing—
but each privately acknowledged the other.
> That guy climbs the Combat Tower every single day. He’s serious about magic.
> If you talk about Transformation Magic, Jirko’s the na that cos up.
Still, neither had ever expected to et like this.
Which ant one thing.
They were both here for the so-called Radel Silvert Cretian Followers’ Gathering.
A gathering this shady.
A royal faction, no less.
Jirko forgot his own situation and imdiately went on the offensive.
“Didn’t you say you’d never side with any royal?”
Tarun wasn’t impressed.
“And you? You swore you’d live and die for Transformation Magic. Why are you here?”
At that, Jirko realized they were in exactly the sa boat.
And worse—he had no real rebuttal.
He’d chosen to co here himself.
Still, being mistaken for a Radel fanatic was unacceptable.
“That’s… a misunderstanding.”
He tried to explain—
But at that exact mont, as the crowd seed to have gathered sufficiently, the followers’ representative Edward spoke up.
“Thank you all for attending once again! And now, let introduce a new follower—soone who willingly offered that precious artifact to Prince Radel!”
Edward thrust an arm straight toward Jirko.
Every hooded figure in the room turned to look at him.
‘N-no!’
Jirko scread internally.
Edward, however, was just getting started.
“Please give a big round of applause to our new comrade, who gave so generously to His Highness!”
Clap clap clap!
Thunderous applause erupted.
Tarun clapped halfheartedly, glaring at Jirko with eyes full of realization.
“Ohhh… so that’s how it is. You already gave him a priceless artifact, huh?”
So the purity Jirko showed toward magic—
Tarun had thought that was genuine.
Turns out, he’d been wrong.
Apparently, it was ambition toward power all along.
Jirko could read Tarun’s thoughts plainly from his eyes.
But it went both ways.
“You talk like you’re any different,” Jirko shot back.
“You’re here too, aren’t you? Sa as .”
Sparks of misunderstanding flew between them.
***
Clatter, clatter.
The carriage passed through the gate stone and rolled toward the Imperial Palace.
“What’s wrong, Radel?”
Inette asked, noticing his uneasy expression.
“Soone must be talking about . My ear’s itching all of a sudden.”
“About you? Of course they are.”
Inette smirked, counting on her fingers.
“The Horizon Knights incident, the alliance with the Lizardn, discovering a water source.
And even if they can’t talk openly because of magical restrictions, don’t you think they’ll gossip about your spirit too?”
Shartea, who had been silent, spoke up.
“The palace will start paying attention to you after this.”
“That much?” Radel asked skeptically.
Inette shrugged.
“Then why would His Majesty summon us? We solved a diplomatic crisis.”
Radel realized that the impact of this trip was far greater than he’d expected.
‘I just went on field training and dug so holes with captured Lizardn…’
If the Library Spirit hadn’t told him about the water source, it might have ended with returning the prisoners and nothing more.
But letting free labor go without extracting value?
That was unthinkable to him.
Then Inette said sharply,
“And don’t tell you didn’t do all this to get closer to the throne.”
Radel stared at her, baffled.
“Nope.”
His goal had always been simple:
to live comfortably.
Becoming Emperor had never crossed his mind.
‘And honestly, being Emperor looks exhausting…’
He recalled the mountain of paperwork on the Emperor’s desk.
Inette looked genuinely shocked.
“What? If you’re born royalty, becoming Emperor is the goal!”
But the other two royals in the carriage disagreed.
Radel and Shartea shook their heads simultaneously.
“Never thought about it.”
“Sa.”
Inette gaped.
Even the Third Princess?!
Shartea herself looked surprised by her own answer.
“…Now that I say it out loud, it really is simple.”
“Exactly,” Radel said.
“There are lots of royals, but only one Emperor. Not everyone needs to aim for it.”
Then he turned to Inette.
“What about you? Do you want to be Emperor?”
Inette hesitated.
She had always assud that was the natural path.
Winning or losing the succession was one thing—
but choosing a different road had never occurred to her.
“…Of course I do,” she said finally.
“But I won’t use underhanded thods. And beating weak opponents isn’t fun.”
Shartea snorted.
“Anyone listening would think you’re invincible.”
“What did you say?!”
The carriage erupted into chaos as Inette lunged at her.
Amid the noise, Radel sank into thought.
Attention.
Expectation.
Politics.
It was ti to start thinking seriously about how to handle the spotlight now turning toward him.
***
Jirko wasn’t the only newcor to Radel’s followers’ gathering.
The third-year seniors who had gone to the Horizon Knights practicum were there too.
They hadn’t had the courage to ignore the invitation.
After all, it bore the na Radel Silvert Cretian.
The very junior who had ruined their lives.
If they skipped it, who knew what retaliation awaited?
At least Radel himself wasn’t present.
But the people gathered there were unmistakably abnormal.
Everyone wore black robes.
Suspicious enough already.
And so didn’t even bother hiding their faces—
like Gusto, the apprentice holy knight, standing proudly in plain sight.
Having endured Gusto’s sermons in the desert, the third-years imdiately distanced themselves.
They had no intention of hearing another lecture praising Radel.
Nearby stood several large, intimidating figures.
The seniors drifted closer, hoping to blend in.
Then they realized who they were.
‘Wait… those guys…’
‘Yeah. It’s them.’
‘The first-years who said following the Prince would change their lives!’
Their eyes shone with pure, lucid madness.
Instinctively, the third-years wanted to get away.
And then—
The most suspicious figure of all appeared.
A person wearing a bear costu, arms crossed.
‘What… what is that?’
‘Why is soone wearing a mascot suit?’
‘I’m scared…’
This was a followers’ gathering?
The third-years huddled together, doing their best to stay unnoticed.
They hadn’t even fully recovered from escaping Radel—
and now they were surrounded by people who felt just as dangerous.
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