The Model Student of the One-Eyed Kingdom (1)
For Caspar Hundert, a freshman at the academy, the Barhart Imperial Family was sacred and inviolable in every sense. In the past, House Hundert had served as knights protecting the common folk and shielding the kingdom from foreign threats. During the Hegemony War, when the four kingdoms clashed for dominance, his great-grandfather had lost his life, and his grandfather had lost an arm in the same brutal conflict. Yet what tormented them far more than those sacrifices was the royal family’s indifference.
At the time, the Barhart Kingdom had been riddled with corruption. No matter how faithfully one carried out their duties or how loyally they served, without offering bribes, their efforts went unrecognized. Despite his relatively young age, Caspar’s grandfather had been cast aside as “no longer useful,” left to spend his days drowning in drink and resentment. The one who summoned him from that pit was a boy king who had only recently inherited the throne. From the moment he answered that call, the fate of House Hundert was forever altered.
The boy king—later known as the Great Emperor—transformed the kingdom into an empire, purged the corrupt officials who had been devouring the realm, and filled those vacant seats with passionate, incorruptible talent. Having grown up listening to his grandfather’s stories, Caspar viewed Emperor Ludwig as a legendary hero straight out of myth. His desire to become a cornerstone for the empire only grew stronger with each passing day.
Simply being allowed to study at the academy the Great Emperor himself had established was an immense honor. But when Caspar realized he would be spending his days as a fellow student alongside none other than a member of the imperial bloodline—Ludwig’s own direct descendant—the wave of emotion that swept over him defied description.
Lyla Everblaze Barhart. She was the very ideal of a princess that Caspar had painted in his boyhood dreams. Beauty that deserved the term peerless. Charisma so overwhelming it could silence even highborn nobles without effort. Culture and talent that no one could rival. As someone enrolled in the Martial Combat course, Caspar had few opportunities to share classes with her, who studied Arcane Magic. Even so, merely hearing news of her from afar was enough to make every day feel worthwhile. To him, Lyla’s existence loomed that large.
And precisely because of that, the fury he felt upon learning—from a friend he had known since childhood—that some insignificant fly was buzzing around her was anything but small.
Chrome Midas. A commoner, not a noble. Not even an imperial citizen, but a native of Spero—one of the empire’s mere vassal states. Not the son of any renowned figure, but the child of a vulgar merchant despised by the people. Had Caspar encountered such a nobody outside the academy, he would not have spared him the slightest attention. The fact that this insignificant insect dared laugh and chatter with the princess of his ideals was, to Caspar, an unbearable humiliation and insult.
The only reason he had not drawn his sword immediately was a shred of pride that refused to sully the noble princess’s ears with such filth, and a faint self-restraint that would not allow bloodshed between students within the academy created by a great hero. Yet that pride and self-control were now being ripped out by the roots.
“…What did you just say?”
“I said it was the same as yesterday. During break, he latched onto Her Highness’s side like it was the most natural thing in the world and kept blathering on about trivial nonsense. Even when everyone around them was shooting him dirty looks, he didn’t bat an eye. I can’t tell if he simply can’t read the room or if he just has no shame whatsoever.”
Caspar’s friend, a scion of an imperial magic house and longtime acquaintance, clicked his tongue. His carefree shrug—almost as if he found the situation somewhat enviable—made Caspar explode.
“And you just watched it happen?!”
“What was I supposed to do? Her Highness was smiling and talking to him. Should I have barged in and told her she shouldn’t be speaking with someone like that?”
“If the problem is that she’s seeing it, then all you have to do is teach that insect his place somewhere outside the classroom!”
His friend stared at him in disbelief. “Are you out of your mind? You know perfectly well why everyone else is tiptoeing around and hesitating to approach her. Do you really think anyone would risk it when there are students loyal to the other grown imperial princes and princesses watching like hawks? Who wants to give them an excuse to find fault?”
“……”
“Princess Lyla’s position is unstable. And she knows that better than anyone. Right now she might be lonely in class and using that Chrome Midas fellow as a conversation partner, but eventually she’ll discard him herself. So—”
“Hey, where are you going? Hey!”
What cowards! Caspar’s chest burned black with rage. Unstable position? She would handle it herself in time? What kind of loyal subject forced the noble person they served to dirty her own hands cleaning up filth? At the same time, he was furious.
How dare he ignore my warning. A mere commoner from a vassal state, daring to disregard the words of a noble!
The reasonable observation that the message had contained no information about its sender—meaning Chrome would have had no way of knowing whether it came from an imperial noble or a beggar in the street—never even occurred to him. Reason and rationality were only meaningful when dealing with equals or superiors. They were not standards to be applied to an insect that did not know its place.
Whether it was unreasonable or simply misplaced anger, to Caspar, Chrome was something that should be crushed underfoot and killed if stepped on. He failed to realize how closely his thinking resembled the arrogant, corrupt nobility of his grandfather’s era—the very people he had once condemned as a child.
A murderous glint settled in Caspar’s eyes.
While walking along the academy’s landscaped promenade, Fiore opened her mouth.
“Miss Ligret. Has something happened recently?”
Ligret answered bluntly. “What do you mean, something?”
“Are you really going to play dumb? You’re the one who’s always stuck to my brother’s side, yet today you’ve been hovering around me all day like you’re expecting something to happen to me at any moment.”
Ligret shrugged. “If you’ve figured that much out, there’s nothing left to explain.”
Fiore tilted her head, puzzled. “Is it people from the Spero Kingdom? I didn’t think anyone inside the academy would be stupid enough to use overt force.”
“Then it’s one of two things. Either the culprit is even stupider than you expected, or they’re all talk and no bite.”
“Culprit, culprit… Did my brother receive some kind of threatening letter? And it mentioned me as well?”
“…You already heard the whole story from Chrome, didn’t you? Are you just pretending not to know so you can tease me?”
Ligret explained the situation, dumbfounded at how Fiore had instantly zeroed in on the heart of the matter after only a few exchanged words.
“Hmm. But judging by the content, shouldn’t you be guarding my brother rather than me? It practically reeks of personal grudge against him. I feel like I was just added as an afterthought.”
“He said it wouldn’t make a good picture if I stayed glued to him.”
“What kind of picture?”
“The one where we reel in the small fry that took the bait.”
“Don’t people usually call that landing a big fish?”
“Guess he didn’t feel like treating them as a big fish.”
Fiore fell silent for a moment, lost in thought. Just as she opened her mouth again—
“M-Miss Ligret! Miss Fiore! It’s terrible!”
Loto came sprinting from afar, panting heavily.
“C-Chrome! He’s… he’s dueling some noble right now!”
Ligret and Fiore’s eyes met. Apparently the small fry was making quite the commotion.
“Cease clinging to the side of that noble person, you fly-like bastard. If you ignore this warning, both you and your sibling will come to regret it.”
When Chrome first read the message, his immediate thought was, At least the sender isn’t anyone particularly high-ranking.
If the intent had truly been a simple warning, there would have been no need to provoke him with insults like “fly-like bastard.” On the other hand, if it was meant as a threat, the wording was far too crude. Either some idiot who couldn’t control his own emotions had sent it in a fit of rage, or someone who didn’t want to reveal their identity had tossed out a half-hearted probe.
The problem was that neither possibility was particularly pleasant from his perspective. He could understand the sentiment. To them, it must have been an eyesore to see some upstart merchant’s son hovering around a princess they themselves had to approach with extreme caution. But that was their problem. He had no intention of letting random people dictate who he could or could not meet.
So he had ignored the warning and waited for a reaction. The response came faster than expected. Which was fine. But—
“Stop loitering around Her Highness this instant, you piece of trash.”
“Reason? The mere fact that a commoner like you is sticking to her is an insult to Her Highness—and by extension, to the entire imperial family! Know your place!”
“Her Highness’s own wishes? You dare presume to guess what she thinks, you lowly cur?! Do you truly wish to die?!”
Whisper, whisper.
In the middle of a busy avenue frequented by students, Chrome stared at the living phonograph that kept spouting its lines without caring what anyone around them said and felt utterly dumbfounded.
What the hell is this guy’s deal?
By his own logic, what did a noble gain by publicly brawling with a commoner in front of everyone? And wasn’t he an academy student himself? Was he really allowed to throw around words like “lowly cur” so openly?
Suddenly, Chrome felt wronged. No matter how low-ranking, the guy was still a noble. Shouldn’t someone raised in a proper household at least think things through before acting? The standard villain playbook was to attack in secret where no one could see, apply pressure to his family’s merchant group to make him hesitate, or create some convenient pretext to corner him. That was how proper scum operated.
If this idiot charged at him like a rabid boar with bloodshot eyes, what was the point of all the preparations Chrome had made? The recording magic tools, the poisons and restraints meant to capture attackers, the deliberate decision to keep Ligret at a distance to induce carelessness—none of it mattered now.
Only then did Chrome realize a fundamental misconception he had been carrying.
He had known he was being underestimated. Or rather, he had thought he knew. But apparently there were people who looked down on him far more than he had anticipated.
“Why aren’t you answering?! Hurry up and admit your sin—”
“God, you’re so damn loud. I can’t even respond unless you say something that actually makes sense. You keep spouting nonsense and expect a conversation?”
“Wh-what?”
Chrome spat the words at the fool whose face was rapidly turning red.
“If you hate me that much, let’s settle this with a match. You self-proclaimed noble knight.”