—
It had been six hours since the baffling incident at the banquet. During that time, Gustave had been evacuated to the King's Keep — the most central and heavily fortified tower in the entire castle, complete with a secret tunnel that provided a quick escape route from the capital.
Alongside his two older brothers, Villem and Anséis, Gustave had been secured there under heavy guard.
He assumed his mother believed the sorcerer's grotesque transformation had been an assassination attempt orchestrated by an unknown enemy — a costly and desperate endeavor, given that it would have required hiring a sorcerer only to send him to his death.
That was why an emergency lockdown had been declared, throwing the entire capital of Lyria and Rivia into chaos.
But Gustave knew the truth: the real culprit was none other than himself. Though he lacked concrete proof, based on what he knew about sorcerers, Chaos, and the madness contamination described in Lord of Mysteries, he had a strong suspicion of what had truly occurred.
By understanding the habits and traditions of sorcerers — their tendency to manipulate and seize control of situations long before they unfolded — Gustave was able to simulate the sorcerer's mindset and deduce his likely intentions.
Much like what had happened with Philippa and Radovid V in the Witcher storyline, where a sorceress groomed a young prince into a puppet king, Gustave was ninety percent certain that this sorcerer had sought to manipulate him from an early age.
Given his extraordinary intellect and composure, it was obvious why he — and not his two older brothers — had become the target.
Taking into account the telepathic abilities common among sorcerers — Yennefer being a prime example of one who delighted in reading and influencing minds to her advantage — Gustave was absolutely certain that the prickling sensation on his forehead had been the sorcerer's attempt to invade his thoughts.
Unfortunately for the man, what he found inside was far beyond the comprehension or sanity of any normal mind — a labyrinth of grotesque madness, barely restrained by Gustave's sheer resolve and determination to keep it from breaking loose.
So when the intruder forced his way in, the madness Gustave kept suppressed seeped outward, corrupting the sorcerer's consciousness and driving him insane before he even had the chance to manipulate his target.
Coupled with the ever-present Chaos energy intertwined with that madness, it was only a matter of time before the sorcerer's mind — and body — twisted into a monstrous abomination.
"It's okay, little brother. When I become king one day, I'll hunt down every monster in the realm. And the one who sent the noble sorcerer to his death — I will eradicate every last one of them," Villem said, patting him on the shoulder with a confident smile.
Feeling the touch and hearing those proud words, Gustave chuckled inwardly at the boy's naïve bravado, knowing that, if Villem's life followed the same trajectory as in the original story, he would grow into a gutless and unwise man.
"Y-yes! A-and I'll be a knight — I'll slay those monsters too!"
Watching Anséis try so hard to appear brave, Gustave smiled inwardly in amusement. Unlike Villem, his other older brother would not grow up cowardly—he would simply be hopelessly dim-witted. Still, because Gustave had to maintain his act as an innocent yet precociously intelligent toddler, he simply nodded, let a few fake tears fall, and hugged them both tightly, pretending to seek comfort.
"I will believe in Big Brothers."
Creak.
The sound of the King's Keep gate opening echoed through the chamber. Gustave then saw his mother and father — the King — enter, the latter walking toward them on shaky legs. What his mother said next made him raise an eyebrow, finding the situation intriguing, for it meant he would soon meet one of the two protagonists of this world.
"Well then, boys," she said warmly. "Would you like to visit your Aunt Calanthe in Cintra? You could meet Pavetta's daughter. Or perhaps visit your Uncle Foltest instead? There will be a grand feast there — to welcome his new court wizard."
Villem's eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of seeing his distant cousin, the Lion Cub of Cintra, once more. He had also heard stories from his own retainers about his beautiful, silver-haired cousin, which only made him more eager.
Breaking free from Gustave's hug, he shouted, "I want to visit Aunt Calanthe!"
Anséis's eyes gleamed as well, though for entirely different reasons. The last time he had gone to Vizima, Uncle Foltest had secretly let him taste a "funny-tasting drink," and he'd even joined him on a hunt — something far more exciting than spending time with scary Aunt Calanthe, who was always angry.
So, with even more enthusiasm than his brother, he shouted back even louder, "No! Don't listen to him, Mom! Uncle Foltest is better!"
"No! Aunt Calanthe is better!"
"No! Uncle Foltest is better!"
"Aunt Calanthe!"
"Uncle Foltest!"
…
"Alright, alright," Meve said with an amused smile. "How about this — you three shall go to Cintra, and then invite Cirilla to join you when you visit your Uncle Foltest. How does that sound?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" they cheered in unison.
Amusement lingered on Meve's lips. She couldn't help but think how beautiful the innocence of children was — so blissfully unaware that by beheading a Ban Ard alumnus, no matter the reason, she had sown the seeds of internal strife within the realm. Strife she desperately wished her three sons would never have to experience just yet.
"Meve, Meve," the King stammered, "just as I said before, you should not have rushed to harm a dignified sorcerer. Now what will we do if Ban Ard comes knocking on our door? I haven't even quelled the unrest among the noble families after my ascension!"
Ptui.
"Dignified? What's dignified about those tower rats?" Meve spat. "They wriggle their way into courts, drain the royal coffers for their selfish experiments — and then we must pay the price even after they succeed to produce results."
She paused, then continued sharply, "If not for Gustave's abnormal intelligence, I wouldn't have spent a single coin to keep those scaleless snakes in my employ."
"Yes, yes, I know," the King muttered nervously. "But, but, you didn't need to behead him outright. You could've just had him apprehended, right?"
Meve turned toward her husband, fury flashing in her eyes. "Apprehend?! Did you not see it with your own eyes? Did you not read about those who transform into monsters — werewolves, werebears, werecats?! Now imagine something ten times worse — a sorcerer turned into such a beast! Do you not realize how dire this situation is?!"
"But—"
"Enough with this repeated pointless debate. I'm taking my sons now. Tomorrow, they have a long journey ahead."
As Meve lifted Gustave into her arms, he knew he had well and truly messed up this time — one look at his father's resentful eyes told him as much.
As for why his father's resentment had bloom that it was clearly visible in his eyes, Gustave could only assume it stemmed from the fact that, since his birth, the spark of romantic love between his parents had already faded — replaced by mere familial duty.
Meve, he suspected, believed that with his intelligence, the realms of Lyria and Rivia would be secure — unlike in the original timeline, where there had been no hope for Villem and Anséis, who were easily manipulated and used as pawns.
However, because his father was too dimwitted to understand her reasoning, he likely believed Meve's entire world now revolved solely around Gustave — ignoring her husband and their two other sons. That, Gustave concluded, was the reason behind the resentment burning in his father's eyes.
Fortunately, the man didn't have long left; in the original timeline, he would die just a few years after Anséis's birth. Otherwise, Gustave's life in the castle would have been far more difficult, living as Meve's favorite.
Thinking about that favoritism, Gustave's gaze drifted to Villem, who was now in tears, confused and frightened by his parents' argument.
'Let's just hope he doesn't grow to resent me for it', Gustave thought silently.
—
Entering his chamber once more with his pitiful retinue — consisting only of the four maids who had served him since birth and no one else — Gustave began to reflect on the earlier incident and the consequences of being separated from his overprotective mother, especially since he would soon be journeying beyond the kingdom.
Glancing back at his maids, who had no combat experience whatsoever, he knew that if any danger were to arise, they could do little to keep him alive. After all, it was reasonable that a three-year-old child with no authority or political influence would not be assigned guards or private soldiers.
However, the moment he revealed his extraordinary abilities — in order to digest the Beyonder characteristics more quickly — trouble would inevitably come knocking on his door one way or another.
The best example of this was the sorcerer earlier, who had tried to manipulate and groom him since infancy, intending to turn him into a puppet king — much like Radovid V in his early years.
Not wanting to remain defenseless, Gustave decided to come clean and reveal his extraordinariness to a few trusted individuals. That way, he would at least have some room to maneuver — unlike an ordinary toddler who could only eat, sleep, and play.
Turning toward his four maids, he said first, "Close the door. I want to have a serious talk with the four of you."
Frozen in place, Rosemary Hammer and the other maids stood speechless upon hearing the youngest prince speak fluent Common Speech. Normally, his pronunciation was a little off, as if he were still getting used to talking — but this… this was how an adult spoke.
"Don't just stand there! Quickly, close the door!"
Startled by the commanding tone, Rosemary flinched, as did the other three. They hurried to obey, though Delilah Loach reached the door first and closed it before any of them could.
"Hmm… The walls here do little to restrain acoustic resonance," Gustave murmured thoughtfully. "Come — to the study chamber."
Entering the study chamber while observing the reactions of his four trembling maids, Gustave couldn't help but sigh inwardly, knowing this was bound to happen. They were afraid — afraid of something that defied the norm.
What made it worse was that, unlike the people of his own Earth who would merely fear the supernatural, the people of this world resented anything that deviated from the ordinary.
Their society had been built upon centuries of battling monsters, and because of that, their tolerance for the supernatural was paradoxically higher — yet it also made them instinctively hostile toward anything unnatural, simply because it was different.
Before that fear could fade and transform into hostility toward what they might soon perceive as a freak of nature, Gustave decided to steer their thoughts elsewhere — to dispel their fear and redirect it into something advantageous to him, since he would need their adult freedom to act on his behalf.
Turning around, he said calmly, "As you four can already see, I am not your average toddler."
Watching them fidget, beads of sweat forming along their temples, and the faint movement of their throats as they swallowed nervously — all clear signs that they already suspected he possessed the mind of an adult, given that they were the ones who tended to his daily needs — Gustave continued.
"Hmm, how should I put it…"
Thinking far beyond Sequence 9, toward Sequence 1 and even Sequence 0 — where one must act like a god and embody the essence of their Pathway's angel — Gustave decided to fabricate a story that could at least justify his extraordinariness. Something that would allow him to be accepted within the norms of this society, especially by these four.
"By the exalted divinity of the God of Steam and Machinery," he declared, his voice calm yet solemn, "I am Gustave — His chosen, sent to illuminate this world's civilizations and guide them toward a brighter future. Be blessed, Rosemary Hammer, Delilah Loach, Brenna Est Est, and Mira Sailor — for you are the first four to witness the venerated Embodiment of Essence, Guardian of Craftsmen, and Brilliance of Technology: the God of Steam and Machinery."
After a moment of thought, he decided to create a special prayer to make his act appear more sacred. With a mock solemn expression, Gustave took a brass goblet from a small table and drew a gold coin from his pocket. Holding the goblet near his chest with his right hand, and the coin delicately between his index and middle fingers of his outstretched left hand, he intoned,
"Forgive me, my Lord, for Your angel has no brass ingot, and Your coin is not of copper."
Noticing the four women standing before him in stunned silence, Gustave smiled faintly and said, "Let us silently welcome His illuminating presence into our beautiful minds — together."
Inwardly, he wanted to burst into laughter at the sheer absurdity of his own theatrics, yet he managed to keep a perfectly straight face. In the quiet solitude that followed, the four maids awkwardly scrambled to imitate his gestures, their movements hesitant and clumsy. After five long minutes of maintaining the fabricated solemnity, Gustave finally broke the silence.
"With me. His Brilliance of Civilization."
"His Brilliance of Civilization," they echoed.
Putting down the goblet and coin, he then turned to face them. Gustave continued, "As you can see, I am not just an ordinary three-year-old child. I have been blessed by His Paragon with an intellect far beyond the norm — so that I may guide you, and the people of this world, toward what must come. The Third Conjunction draws near, and as His angel, it is my duty to prepare the world for what lies ahead."
With a radiant smile, Gustave reassured them, "So I hope you can understand the gravity of these circumstances — and keep silent about what you've witnessed, for the time to reveal it has not yet come."
"W-what must we do, Your H-highness? To serve the God of Steam and… Ma—Maca… macaniri?"
Amused, knowing that the term machinery was not yet common on this continent, he corrected Rosemary — the only one brave enough to speak. "Not macaniri, but machinery."
"Yes, Son of Steam— I-I mean, A-angel of Steam and Ma—Machi—Machinery."
[8th Madness Barrier: 5.7 → 3.5]
He opened his mouth to continue but suddenly stopped, sensing that the 8th Madness Barrier had dropped once again. Realizing that the title Son of Steam was likely the highest acknowledgment of his Savant nature, he assumed that was why his Beyonder characteristic had digested further.
Seeing that his four maids were still waiting in silence for his response, Gustave finally said, "Nothing unusual, really. Just as any palace maid would, you will follow the requests of royal blood — that's all. The only difference is that your duties have come a decade earlier, and you won't get the chance to care for a toddler as you should have."
"I-is that all? Your Highness doesn't need our hair, or b-blood? O-or s-sacrifices…?"
Giving Rosemary a strange look, Gustave shook his head. "No. His Brilliance requires no such thing. That would be barbaric and uncivilized — vile offerings unworthy of Him."
Thinking back to the fabricated ritualistic prayer earlier, and considering how he could justify obtaining materials for his experiments, he continued, "What His Brilliance desires is the advancement of civilization. Blood sacrifices achieve nothing except to insult His name."
"So if you wish to help," he added, "simply treat me as one of the scholars of Oxenfurt who needs materials for their inventions. Or better yet — become like those scholars yourselves, for that would be the highest form of worship to His Brilliance."
Squirming in embarrassment, knowing she was not particularly bright, Rosemary replied in a downcast tone, "But I'm not that smart, Your Highness."
Smiling radiantly, Gustave reassured her, "You needn't worry. Ignorance is only temporary. With proper guidance, even you can become like the scholars of Oxenfurt."
Now that the foundation for his maneuverability was set — and seeing that the four of them seemed to accept his extraordinary intellect — Gustave, without further ado, began preparing for what he truly needed: a means of self-defense.
"Now that introductions are out of the way, I need the four of you to…"
—