Scary Guy, Bad Guy, Reckless Guy (4)
Was the author… maybe one of my classmates? They'd know I worked at a publishing house—maybe that's why they sent the manuscript?
The thought hadn't crossed his mind before. The nickname and writing style both felt too old-fashioned. He'd never been close to his classmates, so he had no idea if any of them had ever dreamed of becoming a novelist.
Heat surged to his forehead. His heart pounded violently.
It hadn't mattered when he'd thought the author was a stranger.But now that he suspected it was someone he knew—his emotions tangled into something strange and confused.
And that wasn't even the only problem.
"Who is Archbishop Istoria?"
She hadn't existed in the previous version.
The answer came—not from his mind, but from behind him.
"The Archbishop was the last priest to possess holy power."
If a god were to speak, it would sound like that voice.
"Archbishop Istoria, who slumbered for thirty-two years, has now awakened—but she can neither speak, nor hear, nor see. Since the Goddess Mnemosyne's blessing has fully departed from the mortal realm, what remains of our faith is little more than a monument."
That clear, resonant voice made every word sound like part of a hymn.
"You may be too young to recognize her, Cleio Aser."
Someone who could suffocate others with presence alone stood behind him. Cleio's back stiffened.
His body defied his mind's command to move.Fighting against that invisible dread, Cleio forced himself to turn around.
And there he was.
Melchior Liognan.Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Albion.
Cleio's eyes widened in shock.
The black-and-white photograph from the newspaper hadn't done him justice.Of course it hadn't—
This was not a being that could be captured by mere light and shadow.
The face, laced with a blasphemous sense of otherness, lacked even the features that would define age or gender.Like an angel who carried merciless revelation, or a statue of a god carved in cold stone, devoid of warmth.
Could something like that even be called "beautiful"?
Humans were never meant to be shaped that way.Anyone who faced Melchior would be overwhelmed by his inhumanity.
Eyes that never blinked stared out from a face too flawless to belong to man.The outer rim of his pupils gleamed a bright bronze, shading into a pale orange toward the center.
Beneath lashes the color of molten gold, his gaze was both cold and radiant.
That faint vermilion at the heart of his pupils deepened as he looked directly at Cleio.
Cleio stumbled back as though struck.An alien dread crawled through his gut, scraping at his insides.
The Crown Prince of Albion was like a ghost haunting the screen of reality—a figure aware of the observer beyond the lens, returning the gaze from inside the frame.
The ring on his finger—Promise—flared with light.Familiar code flooded his mind.
[Unique Skill: Structural Insight]—A gaze that perceives the essence of all things.—The user can discern the target's true intentions upon eye contact.—Additional functions include viewing internal force, status, and past…—User may directly access the target's □□ through ◇spiritual link @#$◈…User: Melchior Liognan□Duration: ∞Additional Function Usage C□unt: [email protected]$#h…
A Unique Skill?!
That was as far as his thought could continue.
[—Melchior Liognan is a being partially involved in the world's composition.][—Due to conflict between Melchior Liognan's Unique Skill and the bound item "Promise," skill information cannot be acc$#^ess#@56□…]
Suddenly, gravity multiplied.
Cleio's knees buckled under a crushing weight.His entire body trembled as he gasped for air that wouldn't come.Cold sweat drenched his back.
A high-pitched, unending tone rang in his ears—
Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii—
It was like an ice pick stabbing through his brainstem.
Then, from the left hand braced against the floor, heat burst upward.
Promise shone so bright that its gold turned white—as though trying to protect him.
[Bound Item: □□□'s Promise]—A severe threat to the user's psyche has been detected. Unlocking Stage 4 Function: "Separation."—"Separation" isolates the user from Melchior Liognan's Unique Skill, "Structural Insight."—Melchior Liognan can no longer discern the item user's inner power, condition, or true intent.
"Huff—!"
Air rushed back into his lungs. His chest heaved desperately as he gulped in breath after starving for it.
The terror ebbed, replaced by a cold, artificial calm.
Melchior was still there, looking down at him.
From where Cleio sat on the floor, he could see the prince's gloved hands.
So that's why he always wears gloves—because of the stigmata?!
He'd thought it was just a way to emphasize the prince's meticulous nature.The manuscript had never mentioned the stigmata at all.
Damn it—couldn't the author have left a post-it about this or something?! Or did even the author not know? Is that it?!
"How is this possible…? How could anyone outside the bloodline of Liognan resist my sight?"
It was barely more than a whisper, but thanks to [Perception], Cleio caught every word.
So the skill didn't work on me, huh? Does that mean it doesn't work on his brothers either?
It seemed plausible. After all, his own Unique Skill hadn't worked on Arthur either.
The novel's title was The Princes of Albion.There were three princes in Albion.
At first, he'd assumed "the prince" referred to Arthur alone—but perhaps he'd been wrong.
Arthur, "deeply entangled in the world's composition," and Melchior, "partially involved in its structure."Different degrees, but similar implications.
The antagonist is as vital as the protagonist, after all. Then… does that mean even Aslan is immune to my skills? Great, things just got more complicated.
A heavy silence fell between the two.
Cleio exhaled slowly.Even after the fear had faded, the suffocating tension remained.
This man smelled faintly of blood not yet spilled.
Then, before his eyes, the Crown Prince extended a hand toward him.Cleio instinctively recoiled, as though from something dangerous.
Ah, shit.
By the time he realized he shouldn't have reacted that way, it was already too late.
When Cleio looked up, tense and wary, Melchior wore the gentle expression of a considerate young man—no trace left of the terrifying presence he'd radiated just moments before.
"It's late. You must be tired. Come, stand up."
Cleio reluctantly took the prince's offered hand.
"I've heard many things about you."
That's his way of saying the secret intelligence bureau knows everything, huh?
"It's an honor to meet you, Your Highness."
Cleio rose awkwardly, mumbling a polite greeting.
Melchior, still holding his hand, examined Cleio's face in detail—like someone searching for traces of a crime.
Cleio hadn't noticed it before because of how unreal the prince's features were, but he was tall and broad-shouldered.
Damn it, seriously… This body's supposed to be in its growth phase already. Isn't it about time I got taller?
At last, Melchior released him, continuing with a dignified smile.
"No need to be so stiff. You're my brother's close friend—so to me, you're practically a younger brother. May I call you by your name?"
"Of course. It would be an honor."
Melchior began asking casually about Arthur's school life and Cleio's magic level.
To an outsider, they would have looked like affectionate brothers chatting warmly.The prince's acting ability easily rivaled Dione's.
Maybe it's the voice. If I didn't know what was really going on, I might've fallen for it too.
Indeed, Melchior's voice was extraordinary.If this were the age of radio, he wouldn't even need to inherit the throne by forcing legitimacy—his voice alone could win elections.
He's wasted as a royal. Should've gone into politics instead.
Cleio answered absently, clinging to irrelevant thoughts.Otherwise, he felt as though Melchior would draw the truth right out of him.
He couldn't interrupt first or excuse himself, so he had no choice but to endure the prince's sudden late-night "parent-teacher meeting."
It went on endlessly.
"—But the stigma that appeared on my brother truly surprised me. It must be a sub-space generation skill, yes?"
"…Pardon?"
"You were attacked in the eastern backstreets, weren't you? I heard you had a rough time. I was worried you might still be unwell."
How much does this man actually know?
With a skill like Structural Insight, he could pry into any secret in the world.
Even knowing that Separation protected him from it, Cleio couldn't help but stay on guard.
"I was saddened to hear my brother was attacked by assassins—but knowing that a promising mage like you is at his side brings me great comfort."
His tone was tender, like a caring elder brother.His long lashes cast shadows over his eyes, deepening the illusion of genuine concern.
If those words were real, he would have assigned Arthur a bodyguard long ago.But neither in the previous draft nor the Final Manuscript had Melchior ever shown him such kindness.
As Cleio stared, momentarily entranced by the performance, a sharp pain stabbed through his skull—a migraine pressing like a thumb against his brain.
The Promise pulsed a vivid warning.
[Unique Skill: "□□□'s Allure"]—Bestows overwhelming charm upon the user, earning love and admiration.—Grants powerful persuasion to the user's voice.User: Melchior Liognan
Oh, hell—he's literally stealing hearts with his eyes open. What the hell is "□□□'s Allure"?
That name—□□□—like Promise and Palimpsest, clearly belonged to something beyond the story's boundary.
A structure that existed outside narrative law.Something Cleio, with his low level of narrative involvement, couldn't even fully perceive.
I thought only I—or the author—had that kind of authority. What happens when an in-story character gets a power like that?!
A heartbeat later, Promise responded—its reaction slower this time, as if even it struggled to counter Melchior's ability.
["Separation" isolates the user from Melchior Liognan's Unique Skill, "□□□'s Allure."]
Melchior clearly realized his skill had been blocked.
He looked straight at Cleio.
That gaze was fundamental—existential.
A figure written upon the ninth layer of the Palimpsest looked beyond the page…and met the eyes of the one reading it.
If a character becomes aware of the story's limits, doesn't that mean the narrative itself is breaking down? Can one NPC really fix that?
Cleio suspected all three princes were already partial regressors with fragmented memories—a corruption caused by the manuscript's endless rewriting.
And now this—"□□□'s Allure."
Cleio, too, possessed "□□□'s Promise,"but since he hadn't even existed in the original draft, it was unclear how he'd been integrated into the Final Manuscript.
Even so… if Melchior was a "being partially involved in the world's structure,"then perhaps he wasn't truly a character of this world at all.
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