Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Swift and decisive.
Robelia’s movements could be summed up with just that one phrase.
Using her intelligence unit, she immediately gathered evidence and identified the culprit, taking less than half a day.
Since an unprecedented incident had occurred—where a student had been attacked within the Cradle—Olga Hermod would naturally be involved as well.
However, she didn’t want to lose her prey.
So she devoted all her efforts to tracking down the culprit, more than ever before.
“Gah!”
The future swordmaster, Dietrich, was brought before Robelia in that state.
Kneeling, head down, completely subdued.
“We’ve captured him, Your Highness.”
“Yes, Ariel. Well done.”
Dietrich shuddered.
Even among first-year students, he was overwhelmingly skilled.
Despite being a recent entrant, he could already make half of the second-year students kneel before him.
Yet here he was, subdued without even putting up proper resistance.
‘So this is a prodigy from the House of Ether…’
Ariel Ether.
In Dietrich’s eyes, her power rivaled, or perhaps even surpassed, Robelia’s.
Her alien magic seemed to suffocate the very air around her.
Was this really a power that a human could wield?
Dietrich broke out in a cold sweat.
“So, you are Dietrich, yes?”
Flinch!
But Dietrich quickly realized he had no time to dwell on that thought.
A voice, chilling as if it were whispering directly into his ear.
Even with his head bowed, unable to look up, her presence pressed down like the very essence of a conqueror.
“Come to think of it… maybe it would have been better to eliminate you earlier.”
Robelia Vicious van Miltonia.
Dietrich could only tremble at her words.
“What do you mean…”
Crack!
Dietrich tried to lift his head, only to be instantly restrained by Ariel’s magic.
“…”
Robelia was considering whether to end him even then.
Yes, she had heard.
Hadn’t Johan told her?
‘A friend of the Cult…’
An ally of her enemy.
According to Johan, Dietrich didn’t yet know the Cult’s true nature, so if contact was necessary, he should approach cautiously.
And that was exactly what Robelia had done.
Had that been her mistake?
‘You trusted too much in the future you know, Johan.’
Johan had been stabbed by the very Dietrich he had defended.
In any case, there was only one thing Robelia could do for Johan.
After all, he wasn’t a man capable of revenge, nor even the type to think of it.
“I have a question for you, and I expect full cooperation.”
“Y-yes! I’ll tell you everything!”
“You could be a bit more stubborn, though?”
That would make the suffering last longer.
Robelia was in a foul mood. Eden had boasted that they couldn’t touch her, yet here she was, and what a mess it was.
For the sake of her pride, she couldn’t afford to do it sloppily.
“Why did you attack Johan?”
“Well….”
Dietrich was a model student.
At least when he entered the Cradle, he resolved to be exemplary.
Though he may have roamed the alleys before, he was not the type to repay kindness with enmity.
Thus, Dietrich disciplined himself, striving to be a model student so as not to bring shame upon the Cult, who had given him a chance.
Perhaps as a result, he became one of the most praised among first-year students.
Yet even he had one weakness.
“Long time no see.”
“Ah, senpai…”
It was Johan Dammus, the senior who had been gravely injured due to Dietrich’s mistake during the placement exam.
“Today… what brings you here?”
Dietrich had to be careful. Johan had not taken a liking to him.
Although Johan had accepted his apology for the earlier incident, Dietrich knew it was grudging.
Yet Johan never demanded compensation or imposed disadvantages. He simply kept his distance.
For Dietrich, this was unusual. Johan could have wielded his power and claim to seek revenge, yet he restrained himself.
‘Senpai is nothing like the nobles I’ve seen… This must be what a true noble is.’
Powerful, yet restrained.
Uninfluenced by emotion, capable of utmost self-control.
A true noble in both spirit and action.
He respected him.
Dietrich, unaware that Johan’s backing was the insane terrorist group Eden, naturally concluded that Johan’s conduct reflected true nobility.
“Could you help me? I have a difficult situation, and I need someone discreet and skilled.”
“Leave it to me, senpai!”
“I’m not asking blindly… Ah, thanks.”
Dietrich’s view of the nobility, previously tainted, was changing through recent experiences.
‘Yes, both the marquis and Senpai Johan… there are nobles worthy of the title!’
Though the former had been a puppet of the Cult, the latter acted for the greater good.
Trusting his own flawed judgment, Dietrich resolved to carry out Johan’s request without question.
As a result, Johan asked him to participate in a staged performance.
Dietrich followed without hesitation.
The only deviation from the original plan was…
“Senpai! Don’t worry! I’ll stab you without real pain!”
“No, wait I said—”
“One, two!”
Unlike Johan’s prior estimate, Dietrich’s mastery allowed him to execute it with minimal pain, making the staged act incredibly realistic—even deceiving Robelia.
Johan Dammus, supposedly attacked by an unknown assailant, was rushed to the ICU.
“…That’s the rumor I spread.”
“Are you insane?”
I had to explain myself to Robelia, who arrived after hearing the rumor I had intentionally leaked.
No need to ask how she knew to come.
“Senpai… I think I’ve been caught.”
“…”
Dietrich lay by her feet, ragged and beaten despite being unharmed.
Why did they treat him like a dog? And why act so friendly while doing it? It was unsettling.
“So… you staged this? Good to see you’re intact.”
Robelia smiled faintly, but it wasn’t a smile of relief.
“Even if staged, I got hurt for realism.”
“Of course.”
“Yes. I’m officially a patient. Even if I look fine, treat me with care.”
“Haha.”
“…”
Robelia’s weary laugh made me shiver.
“Why him?”
“Huh?”
“Why involve him? Wouldn’t that confuse things?”
“Ah…”
From Robelia’s perspective, knowing the Cult-Dietrich relationship, there was plenty of room for misunderstanding.
“…There was no other choice.”
I had recruited Dietrich for the staged act.
To make the act believable, I needed someone capable.
Someone who could ignore the chaos around them, act independently, and carry out the scene.
Few people fit the bill. Within the Cradle, probably only Robelia and her close aides.
Dietrich, still unaware of Eden and the Cult, was ideal.
The sharpest blade Eden had, yet unaware of the true stakes—I used him for the plan.
Eden’s blade is terrifying, yes? I asked him to stab as if drawing blood but causing minimal pain. He did it perfectly.
The bleeding looked real, yet the pain was minimal.
I fainted for realism, though. Dietrich’s precision was extraordinary.
“Sorry, senpai…”
“No, you were amazing! How can someone stab me and I barely feel it?”
“That’s because you were already half-unconscious…”
“What? I was talking then!”
“You were rambling because half your mind had gone.”
“…”
“Still, the plan worked. That’s what matters.”
Dietrich smiled innocently.
So I didn’t sleep through it—I passed out.
“Hey…!”
Before I could react, Robelia sighed, silencing us.
“So, what was the point of all this staged act? Didn’t it just make me play along with your false information?”
Power is frightening. The pressure is suffocating…
Well, it’s over now.
Even if she intervenes, it’s a separate matter.
I decided to tell everything.
“…The target planned to incite F-class students to attack other classes. But wouldn’t someone have doubted that?”
Even for violent students, attacking peers is extreme.
So the plotter would have planned it gradually, to erase hesitation.
“I acted to amplify those doubts.”
Last night, I had been attacked. I told people the attacker deemed weak people like me obstacles.
Not the full story, of course—no one wants to read a novel-length confession.
I spread rumors using Dietrich.
Result: rumors gained weight, my “attack” added credibility, and the falsehood became accepted truth.
Rumors alone are harmless, but with a real victim? Convincing.
“What happens if someone knows they were being incited, even by a group willing to kill classmates?”
“They’d be wary.”
“Yes. More than that, they’d suspect others for any hostile acts.”
Even students with insecurities would act cautiously.
I didn’t need to find the culprit—just stop the coup.
The F-class plot would collapse.
Even if they knew, suspicion would make them hesitate.
But they hadn’t lost their spy yet.
A Cradle spy of high caliber.
They wouldn’t risk losing that spy for trivial matters.
And I didn’t qualify as “trivial.”
“So they wouldn’t target me at the cost of a spy.”
“Normally, wouldn’t you go after the spy?”
“That’s someone like you, Your Highness.”
“Aha.”
Robelia admired my perfect plan.
“So the agitator of F-class… is none other than you.”
“…”
“If only nobles like you disappeared, this country might be more peaceful.”
Cold sweat ran down my back—not from the wound Dietrich gave me.
A few days later.
I miraculously recovered and returned to my studies.
Wearing the “setting” of the staged incident, I went back to F-class.
Thankfully, the atmosphere had returned to normal.
When students asked if I was okay, I gave a vague affirmative and sat down.
Peace had returned.
Still, suspicion remained for those I once suspected.
I observed those students carefully.
“Ah, yes. No, I was just misled, okay?”
Jeff busily explained himself to other students, still caught in my trap.
Still suspicious, but it no longer mattered.
And Melana—expressionless, observing me.
What’s with her? I pushed her halfway with suspicion, yet she keeps acting in ways that catch my attention. Better to avoid her.
Finally, the pink-haired student I had nearly been certain of…
“Hmm?”
She was nowhere to be seen.
With class starting soon, had she gone somewhere?
I asked others about her.
“Uh? Don’t know. Wasn’t she visiting another class?”
“She wasn’t in our class. Desk count doesn’t match, name’s not on our roll.”
“Now that I think, I haven’t seen her recently. Something’s up?”
A chill ran down my spine.
No one mentioned her name. Could she not even belong to a class?
Time to dig.
And she did not want to be noticed.
It was unsettling.
Eventually, I couldn’t fully disengage from this matter.
Driven by unease, I asked about the pink-haired girl.
Checking the rolls of other classes should reveal her, but… shockingly, no photo existed anywhere.
“What…?”
After searching every class, I realized she didn’t exist.
An outsider, perfectly evading Olga Hermod’s gaze—not a student hiding among them, but someone whose skill let her pass unnoticed.
Then it hit me.
“Whoa. Nice weather today, huh?”
A cheerful voice spoke as someone perched beside me.
Someone I had encountered, suspected, and feared countless times.
“Hi, Johan.”
“…”
The pink-haired girl spoke with a bright voice.
The difference from before was stark.
Her cotton-candy hair remained, but her cute face was hidden behind a mask.
A mask so familiar that realization left me horrified.
“Clown…”
The one who had protected me during the Eden attack.
Time and subsequent events had made me forget… until now.
“…Safe Clown.”
“Puhihi!”
The most dangerous assassin was right next to me.