The First Step of the Charge
"That was a productive conversation. Have a good night, Sir Julian."
The light from the communication orb flickered out. Prince Edmund stared at the darkened crystal for a long time. On the dining table, a half-empty soup bowl and breadcrumbs remained. The after-dinner tea had long since gone cold. The night in the detached palace was silent—a brief moment of peace that could only be enjoyed after the baby had finally fallen asleep.
Prince Edmund was accustomed to this kind of stillness. It resembled the silence immediately after the fighting stopped on the battlefield—a quiet that forced one to hold their breath, yet offered no relief from the underlying tension. The Prince let out a bitter laugh, realizing he was comparing childcare to war.
'Is this my new battlefield?'
It wasn't a bad battlefield, all things considered. He would have no complaints if he could just get a decent night's sleep. According to Julian's advice, however, this phase would only last a few more months. They said that once the baby passed the one-year mark, he would at least be able to "sleep."
Edmund took a sip of his cold tea. Beside the door, his adjutant spoke up.
"Your Highness."
Carlos Richter. The Prince's adjutant, the comrade-in-arms who had watched his back on the battlefield, and currently the Chief Staff Officer under the direct command of the Personnel Chief. Incidentally, he also doubled as the coachman who occasionally rushed to bring Julian to the palace.
"May I speak my mind?"
"Speak freely."
"It is a presumptuous question, but I am somewhat troubled by what Sir Nihilit said at the end."
"Which part?"
"The Knight himself said it. That he is only capable of tracking and dealing with black magic after the fact, not preventing it."
The Prince nodded at his adjutant's words. Indeed. Immediately after proposing a lecture on black magic defense, Julian had politely declined.
— "I am confident in tracking or responding to incidents after they have occurred. However, that is far from defense or prevention. Even so, are you sure you want to call it a 'Defense' class?"
Richter continued, "Of course, I do not doubt the Knight's abilities. He proved them during this recent incident. However, if the title is 'Defense' but the content is about 'response methods,' I worry it might cause confusion."
"Are you suggesting we change the title?"
"I apologize, but yes, Your Highness."
Edmund nodded. "Your point is valid. Titles are important. They set the direction for what is to come."
"Then..."
"That is precisely why I have no intention of changing it," Edmund said firmly. Richter fell silent. The Prince smiled at his adjutant's expression.
"Aren't you going to ask why?"
"Because there is no way to turn back Your Highness once you have made up your mind. I realized that back at the fortress charge."
"How cold. I was hoping for a hot-blooded loyal subject who would defy me and retreat."
"..."
The adjutant looked at the Prince with a face like he’d just bitten into a bug. The Prince waved a hand at him.
"Still, I suppose I must convince you so you'll charge with me again. Richter."
"Yes."
"Why do you think black mages are running rampant?"
The adjutant thought for a moment before answering. "Because they are difficult to track, and the defense systems against them are inadequate."
Black magic was impossible to defend against. If a fireball or a sniper shot came, one could block it with a shield. But black magic was not like that. It was stealthy, and above all, invisible. Since one could not know when, where, or how it would strike, response was nearly impossible. Furthermore, because the trajectory of the attack was invisible, tracking it after the fact was also difficult.
"Moreover, there are cases where it isn't even black magic, but merely a misunderstanding or simple bad luck."
Other reasons existed. In nature, fire does not exist without a cause. People do not freeze or get cut in half without a reason. But black magic was indistinguishable from nature. A person might fall ill due to a plague curse, but they might also just be unlucky. When one considered such things, tracking black magic was often nearly impossible. Richter was pointing to that reality.
"Correct. But that is a technical answer."
However, that was not the answer the Prince wanted. Edmund leaned back in his chair.
"I am asking about something more fundamental. Why is the Empire so helpless before black magic? Is it because we lack technology? Because we lack the budget? Of course, those are problems that must be solved eventually. But they are not the fundamental answer."
Of course, those were problems. But the moment he heard that Julian had tracked down a black mage in a single day, and heard the method he used, the Prince had focused on the root cause.
"The most fundamental problem is resignation."
"..."
"When people are struck by a black mage, they always say the same thing: 'It's impossible to catch them anyway,' 'They've already fled by the time we track them,' 'There's no way to stop it.' And what do they do after that?"
Edmund's fingers tapped slowly on the table.
"They give up, or they approach the case half-heartedly, already expecting to fail."
Richter listened without a word.
"The Academy incident was the same. Do you think the Principal and Vice-Principal were just lazy and handled it complacently?"
"...Was it not concluded as professional negligence?"
"It was negligence, yes. But we must understand where that negligence came from."
Edmund turned to look at his adjutant. It was a look of recognition. It was the look of a passionate man who, on the southern front when everyone else had given up, had shouted alone that they must retake the strategic point lost by their ancestors 200 years ago. It was the look of the apprentice knight who had scolded him, asking why he still couldn't shake off the helplessness of those days now that the fever that held them back was gone. The first image of the Prince that the adjutant had known was exactly that.
"If the intruder at the Academy had been a demon? If the students had been eaten by monsters? Would the Principal have reacted so complacently?"
"Certainly not," Richter shook his head. "He would have immediately established a combat posture and requested emergency support from the Knights."
"Exactly. No one reacts complacently to demons or monsters. Because there are methods to deal with them. Everyone knows they can be tracked, caught, and killed. And because there is hope."
Methods for dealing with demons and monsters had been established over a thousand years. Even so, there were occasional breaches in security. But whenever such things happened, they responded quickly. Not only because they knew the methods, but because they knew that if they hurried, there was hope.
Edmund pushed the empty soup bowl aside and said, "But black magic is different. It cannot be tracked, they have already fled by the time you try to catch them, and there is no proper way to stop it. There have even been cases where the truth was revealed, and it turned out not to be black magic, but just bad luck. It has been that way for decades, for centuries."
The Prince let out a deep sigh. "And during that long time, people learned. That it's useless to try."
"Your Highness. Are you saying the Principal's negligence is not his own fault?"
"Ah, do not misunderstand. I am not defending that man." The Prince waved his hand. "That was personal negligence, true. Even if the world made him that way, that fact does not justify his irresponsibility. However, what I am saying is that if we continue to leave the reason for that irresponsibility solely to the individual, the cycle will repeat forever."
Richter nodded. It was a nod of understanding. Edmund confirmed the reaction and remained silent for a moment. And when he spoke again, Richter noticed that the Prince's voice had changed.
"...It hasn't been long since I began to harbor these thoughts."
He suddenly placed his hands on the desk and covered his face with his palms. "When my wife lost our first child, I traveled the entire Empire, even personally, to find the cause."
Richter held his breath. The Princess's miscarriage. It was a story that could not be spoken of lightly even in the court. Richter was the same. Even though they were comrades who had watched each other's backs on the battlefield, he had never brought this up first. But tonight, the Prince had opened that door himself.
"When we lost the second, I called for healers. From before we conceived the third child, I had healers by our side."
Edmund's voice was low and flat. But that flatness only served to hint at the weight of what was pressed beneath it. "After we lost the third child, rumors began to circulate. That our couple was under a curse of infertility."
Richter could not bring himself to meet his eyes and bowed his head. But Edmund's recollection continued.
"Do you remember how the Imperial Family responded then?"
"...They formed an investigation team."
"The result?"
"..."
"As you know, the investigation team was disbanded after a month without any results."
It was an incident involving a war hero of the south and a Prince who held more influence than almost any other known member of the Imperial Family. "Do you know what's even more ridiculous? I, too, half-believed those rumors and investigated passionately."
Edmund let out a bitter laugh. "Think about it, Richter. Other royals are holed up in the palace. I am the only one who goes to the front lines, stands before people as the Personnel Chief. Being in a position to decide the appointments of countless nobles, I must have made no small number of enemies."
Edmund looked down at his empty teacup. "Where could there be a better target?"
Richter could not answer.
"I thought I was being rational. But how could I find someone who hadn't cast a curse?"
In the end, the investigation team was disbanded after a month without finding a single clue. That was when it started. The Prince's descent into helplessness.
"From then on, I only sought alcohol. What did it matter if it was a curse or not?"
And with him, those around him also fell into helplessness. "Everyone fell into helplessness. Since it couldn't be explained, they blamed it on black magic, yet didn't even think to look for the black mage. No one had the will to solve it."
At the time, the Prince was in a state of near-despair. After separating from his wife, he had simply intended to spend the rest of his life guarding the southern front. Then, a miracle found him.
"Then I met Sir Julian. With just a single pill, he solved all of our problems."
But Julian was different from those people. He did not give up, nor did he ignore his ignorance. He did not rule out the possibility of black magic, and after obtaining the certainty that it was not, he even solved it.
"He was free, all alone. He wasn't captured by helplessness. While everyone else had already decided on the answer of 'curse' and was only asking questions that fit that answer, he was charging forward alone. Just like I used to."
Edmund said, "I realized it then. Our greatest enemy is not the black mage. It is stopping our thoughts in front of black magic. Giving up on finding the cause. That resignation and helplessness are the very weapons the black mages use."
Edmund looked at Richter. "That is why I have no intention of changing the name of the lecture."
Richter's eyes trembled. "Knowing the response method leads directly to defense. The mere fact that they can be tracked will make the black mages shrink back, and people will no longer have to bow their heads."
Edmund asserted, "Therefore, Black Magic Defense. That name is correct."
Richter stood without a word. The Prince's gaze turned toward the hallway leading to the baby's room. "It's fine if we don't wipe out every black mage right now. It's fine if it doesn't end in my generation."
Edmund said, "To Aster. And to Aster's children. If I can just leave behind a world that does not bow its head before black magic, that is enough for me."
The Prince stared at the room where his baby would be sleeping for a long time. A long silence settled. Only the sound of the candle flickering could be heard. Eventually, Edmund withdrew his gaze from the hallway and opened his mouth.
"...Of course, it won't be easy."
The heat in his voice had subsided significantly. "The opposition in the Noble Assembly will be intense. Not only are we spending the budget to create a new lecture, but we are saying we will teach black magic as an official subject. Since the Great Sage destroyed the Magic Tower of Black Magic, black magic has been a taboo in this Empire. If I say I will bring that into the light, what kind of things will I hear?"
Edmund counted on his fingers. There was no shortage of opposition he could imagine. To teach the response method, one naturally had to teach the principles. And if one knew the principles? Someone would emerge who could also use black magic. Among them, some would abuse it. Perhaps some nobles would worry about this. Not every noble would oppose it, but he would face no small amount of opposition.
"I must also consider the opposition from the religious world. Will they say I am encouraging heresy?"
Richter listened without a word.
"There will be those who laugh at it, saying it's meaningless. Asking what a single lecture will change when we haven't solved the problem for hundreds of years. Saying that such bravado will ruin the Empire. At best, it will be cynicism; at worst, mockery. There were such voices before we retook the southern fortress."
Edmund gave a bitter laugh. "And." He took a breath and paused for a beat. "The black mages won't just stand by."
The Prince's eyes narrowed. "They are people who have been operating comfortably in the darkness until now. If someone steps forward to shine a torch into that darkness... they will try to cut off the hand holding the torch first. Including me."
Edmund said calmly. That calmness was similar to the expression he had when he was told he had to stand at the very front on the battlefield. It was a stoic resolve, knowing he might die, yet not caring. Edmund shrugged his shoulders.
"Still, I'm a person who doesn't know any other way than to charge."
Richter could not say anything for a long time. The candle on the table flickered. In the silence of the detached palace, Richter was recalling memories from far away. On the retreating southern front, this man had constantly been talking about the ancestors' fortress that they said had been lost 200 years ago beyond the horizon. Eventually, the strategic point was retaken, and Richter had not left this man's side since that day. And now. The Prince was saying he would charge once again.
"What will you do, Richter? If you really want to, I will let you step away from this."
At this, the adjutant gave a bitter laugh. "Your Highness."
"Speak."
"It is a life that should have been lost once during the fortress battle anyway."
For a moment, the corners of Edmund's mouth rose slowly. "...Good."
The Prince held out his empty teacup. "Then bring me another cup of tea before the charge. Honestly, I was so thirsty back then."
"Yes, Your Highness."
It was the moment Richter picked up the teapot. From somewhere in the detached palace, the whimpering of a baby could be heard faintly. Edmund's expression changed in an instant. He pricked up his ears and tilted his head toward the hallway. Even when he heard the flapping wings of insect-type monsters, he had not had such a fearful expression.
"...Did he wake up?"
—Waaaaaah!
"Oh dear. Another stomach ache? I must get the peppermint oil."
Grumbling, the Prince rose from the table. The adjutant followed his superior without a word.