[261] The Truth Revealed (6)
The students stepped back without even noticing.
The old man's voice—frail enough to suggest he could be in his coffin by tomorrow—was louder than the young man's shout.
But once they understood the meaning behind his words, that surprised reaction seemed small by comparison.
The Kazra Kingdom lay north of the Kingdom of Tormia.
What business did a royal administrative officer, charged with carrying out the king's orders, have coming to a local school instead of the royal academy?
Their questions were answered by Ordos' next words.
"Is Arian Shirone here? If so, come forward at once to receive the king's command!"
As if it were a duty, the students began searching for Shirone.
But Shirone was nowhere to be seen.
Only after the initial flurry died down did a strange thought occur to them: why was Kazra's envoy specifically looking for Shirone?
Alpheas glanced at a nearby student. "Could you go fetch Shirone for me? It seems urgent."
"Yes? Ah, yes!"
The student dashed off.
Of course no one knew exactly where Shirone might be; searching the wide school grounds would be nearly impossible. But everyone was so unsettled they moved first and thought later.
"Arian Shirone! Is Shirone not here? It is the king's command! Hurry and come forth to receive it!"
Ordos shouted, voice sharp with impatience.
As the Kazra kingdom's envoy, he represented royal authority—no one present could rightly challenge him. Even Alpheas' standing in the mage community was still a position granted by a state; no organization could be above a kingdom.
And because it was, for all intents and purposes, the foreign king speaking through his envoy, the noble-born students—brought up on treatises of rulership—did not dare make a sound.
"Shirone! Come out at once!"
"Shirone has been brought here."
A beautiful voice cut through Ordos' metallic bellow.
Olivia, current headmistress of the Alpheas School of Magic, walked forward holding Shirone's hand.
Since Shirone always stopped by the Supernatural Psychical Science Research Club after class, finding him had been no trouble.
Iruki and Neid trailed behind.
Shirone looked around in bewilderment.
Nearly the whole school had gathered; ahead stood burly guards and a large carriage—people who, at a glance, radiated strength.
On the way over Olivia had only told him that someone was looking for him.
"Shirone, go speak with that man. He's the envoy from the Kazra Kingdom."
"—An envoy?"
Only then did Shirone start and look up at Olivia.
He trusted her now—she had looked out for him when Killain plotted against him—but being told it was the king's envoy made him nervous.
Olivia patted his back kindly. "It'll be fine. You'll see once you go."
Trusting Olivia, Shirone took a deep breath and walked toward Ordos.
Ordos glared at him with dead eyes.
They were empty eyes, yet it felt as if they pierced his brain. Shirone felt he couldn't tell a lie. Just as that thought crossed his mind, Ordos asked in his trademark metallic voice.
"Are you Arian Shirone?"
"Yes, I am."
"To lie here would be to insult the Kazra Kingdom! I will ask again: are you truly Arian Shirone?"
"Yes! I am!"
Without meaning to, Shirone shouted.
Even though they were speaking at close range, Ordos' barking tone felt excessive—but it worked. Shirone's face drained of color and his answers spilled out as if under hypnosis.
Ordos reached back to the scribe behind him.
The scribe handed him a scroll sealed with the royal insignia. Ordos unfurled it, thrust his chin up, and cried out arrogantly.
"Arian Shirone! Before I deliver the king's command, I will ask a few questions. Know this: answer falsely or commit perjury and your life may be at risk. Understood?"
"Yes, I understand."
Though Shirone resented Ordos' threats-first manner, he had to comply when it was the king's command.
And he had nothing to hide.
"Arian Shirone. Are you the son of the hunter living halfway up the Valley of Dawn, Arian Shirone?"
"Yes, that is correct."
"Are you the child Vincent Arian and Olina Arian picked up from a stable?"
Commoners did not typically have surnames of consequence.
That Vincent and Olina shared the Arian name simply meant they were of the Arian people. It was a minority lineage not widely known—an ethnologist would recognize it at once and know they were commoners.
Ordos showed no consideration at all in how he spoke of Shirone.
Even without being called "a child picked up from a stable," the whole kingdom knew Shirone's commoner background.
"Yes, that's correct."
Shirone answered with a sigh.
He could feel the students' disgusted stares; he had already steeled himself for it.
But Ordos persisted as if he took pleasure in shaming him, obsessively emphasizing the worst details.
"You were abandoned at two months and raised by the hunter Vincent, who lived on the mid-slopes of the Origin Mountains' Thorn Mine region. You were left at a stable. From then you learned hunting with your father. Later you worked as a menial servant for the Ozent household for two years, and, as their guest, you entered the magic school. Is that all true so far?"
One student burst out laughing.
"Puhahaha! A menial servant!"
The laughter died as every eye turned to him, but surely others were scoffing inwardly.
A menial servant in a noble house was the sort who scrubbed the floors.
Neid glanced around as if trying to memorize the face of the student who'd laughed. Iruki's expression soured at Ordos' line of questioning.
Shirone sighed again.
At first he had been too stunned to react, but now the reality of his situation settled over him.
Everyone was mocking him.
It was unbearable—friends who had laughed and joked with him only a short while ago now looked at him like an insect.
"Answer me, Shirone! Is all of this true?"
"Yes, it's true…."
At Shirone's words, the students murmured.
Most of it was derision and mockery; only a few looked at him with pity.
Kanis and Arin, listening from farther back, were among that small number.
"Surprising. Shirone was a commoner, huh."
"Hmph. So what? Nobles are unbearable. All they know is to shout their family name."
Kanis and Arin had no parents either—abandoned as children and raised in Ladum's underbelly—so they resented the nobles mocking Shirone.
"But there are exceptions. Iruki and Neid are decent, Dante's group seems upset too. Especially Dante—he surprised me. I thought he'd hate Shirone."
Arin's words carried weight; she had a knack for first impressions.
Kanis glared at Dante in annoyance, then shrugged. "Tch. What does origin matter to people obsessed with magic? That's how aspiring mages are. No—actually, it pisses me off. Born with a silver spoon and playing the martyr—who do they think they are?"
Arin snorted.
Shirone at least had the label "commoner"; they were rootless bastards without even that. Rough as Kanis' words were, it was clear she'd been shaken by how Dante judged people solely on their magic.
"Look—Amy's coming too."
Two girls sprinted toward them, breathless: Amy and her close friend Seriel.
The student sent by Alpheas had found Amy—Shirone's publicly known lover—first.
Of course Seriel, who always stayed by Amy's side, would be here for this absurd scene as well.
"Don't know! We'll see when we get there," Amy panted as they pushed through the crowd.
Now that Shirone's official lover had appeared, the students stepped aside without complaint.
"Shirone! What on earth is going on—!"
Amy pushed forward and then stopped short, stunned.
Numerous guards watched the area with murder in their eyes, and a shrill old man shouted. Shirone stood with his head slightly bowed, listening to the old man's words as if awaiting judgment.
Ordos' humiliation of Shirone escalated without restraint.
He began with stories printed in magazines, and when those were exhausted he listed private anecdotes collected through unofficial channels.
He spoke of Shirone living among migrant farming children and of wandering the mountains for days just to find a single meal.
To the students, it was all new and absurd. The more outrageous the details, the more the fact that Shirone was a commoner hit home.
The scroll Ordos held surely contained only the king's orders.
By now one could even admire the effort Ordos must have made to memorize eighteen years' worth of particulars.
Shirone felt his mind reel.
Having every private story exposed in front of friends he'd spent a year with was more humiliating than being naked.
"Is all of this true? Answer, Shirone."
Shirone was so worked up he didn't even realize his fists were clenched. When he finally gathered himself, he was on the verge of exploding.
He forced his breath under control and, as if resigned, nodded.
"Yes—the truth."
The students burst into laughter.
With the absurd interrogation continuing, no one held back now.
It wasn't a particularly funny story, really. But to those raised in noble houses, the past of Shirone—the top student of the advanced class—was irresistibly entertaining.
Seriel watched Amy with a worried expression.
She, too, had first read about Shirone's commoner background in a magazine. She'd been shocked and felt a sting toward Amy for not telling her sooner.
But Seriel chose to focus on what would make her happy.
She couldn't hate Amy and Shirone; the precious moments she'd shared with them mattered too much.
The other students had no such memories.
To them Shirone was an untouchable genius, and ideally someone whose misfortune would remove the inconvenient obstacle he represented from their lives—nothing more, nothing less.
"Amy…."
Amy finally snapped.
"You bastards! What's so funny about any of this?"
She rolled up her sleeves and strode toward the students.
She resented Shirone's friends who had stood by and let things come to this.
At that moment Ordos read the king's command.
"Arian Shirone, kneel and receive the king's command!"
Amy froze. Shirone dropped to one knee and listened as the scroll was read.
Ordos suddenly bellowed as if everything before had been a whisper. His voice tore through the air.
"By command of King Orcamp IV of Kazra! The deeds of Arian Shirone correspond with reports received by the Kazra Kingdom. You are highly likely to be the First Prince who fled during the kingdom's crisis eighteen years ago! Therefore we invite you to the kingdom—answer this summons willingly and prove your status as the First Prince! So commands King Orcamp IV!"
Iruki and Neid shouted at the same time.
"Whaaaat!"
The other students reacted with similar shock.
When the foreign envoy had come and delved into Shirone's past, they had assumed it was a simple recruitment offer.
It was rare, but nations sometimes recruited talent from abroad.
That Shirone might be of royal blood—that he could be a direct line of the royal family and, moreover, the First Prince—was beyond anyone's expectation.