The Fourth Princess
The scratching sound filled the room without pause.
One of the East Duke’s private chambers.
Books lined every shelf, turning the space into something that looked almost like a library.
And there, sitting cross-legged on a cushion, was a young girl.
Her small fingers moved with steady precision across a sheet of parchment, drawing a glowing magic circle.
Scratching… scratching…
“There.”
The girl finished the final line, then reached for the ink bottle and poured its contents across the circle.
Soil taken straight from the cursed fields.
She whispered the incantation, the syllables flowing through her lips.
Her mana stirred, and a faint pink light bloomed around her.
A faint blue shimmer rose from the parchment—then faded.
The soil beneath it remained unchanged.
“…Again.”
She exhaled a small sigh and reached for another sheet of parchment.
Scratching… scratching…
While the ink dried, her mind turned to the same worry she had carried for weeks.
The Black Land was spreading like a plague, and the villagers were beginning to tremble with fear.
“Again.”
She was about to start a fresh circle when the door opened with a soft click.
“Your Highness!”
The young maid burst in, eyes shining with excitement.
“The soil has recovered its original color!”
She announced, nearly bouncing on her toes.
“……What?”
The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.
The girl’s hand froze mid-motion.
“The curse has been lifted,” the maid continued, voice trembling with joy.
“The priests used divine power, and the land is pure once more!”
“Is that… really true?”
Emotions flooded the young girl’s face.
“The villagers are saying it was all thanks to the Empress’s kindness!”
“……Huh?”
Her voice cracked slightly.
The maid’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears.
“We have been praying so hard, and now… everything is better!”
She wiped at her own eyes with the sleeve of her uniform.
“……Did divine power really solve it?”
The girl murmured, half to herself.
She had never quite believed it.
Divine power belonged to priests and holy sites, not to a commoner’s guess.
Yet here it was—proven by the soil itself.
“……Who could have thought of that?”
Her small forehead furrowed in thought.
“A commoner… how?”
The question lingered, growing heavier with every heartbeat.
“It was the Empress’s personal guard captain,” the maid added excitedly.
“They say he suggested pouring divine power straight into the ground!”
“……The personal guard?”
The girl’s pink eyes widened.
“The Emperor’s bodyguard is a commoner?”
“Yes! And he’s incredibly powerful—stronger than half the nobles combined!”
The girl remembered the stories she had half-heard in the palace.
A commoner who wielded power no noble could match.
“……Is that true?”
She tilted her head, the idea spinning in her mind like a new spell.
“If even a commoner can see what the nobles can’t…”
Her fingers drummed against the parchment.
The scratching sound of the quill suddenly felt louder.
***
I sat at the head of the table, the East Duke’s study.
As if I had never left.
As if I had never been anything but Seriel.
When I first arrived here, the East Duke had lounged in my chair like he owned the place.
He even tried to seat me at the foot.
That arrogance had been too much.
I had drawn a tiny thread of mana, let the displeasure show in my eyes, and he had jumped up so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet.
“The land issue is resolved,” I said, voice smooth as silk.
Only to the captain of the Dark Blue Knights did I use the formal tone.
To this man I had no patience left.
He had once supported the second prince, and he still clung to Seriel like a parasite.
Watching him bow before me now was almost… satisfying.
“I… heard, Your Highness.”
“Heard what?”
“……Yes, Your Highness.”
He closed his eyes tight, as if daring me to speak louder.
“Yet for all this time you did nothing,” I continued, letting every word land like a judgment.
“The nobles in the East have abandoned their duties entirely.”
“I… that is not true!”
He wiped sweat from his forehead, though there was none.
“We tried every possible solution.
All failed.”
“And the memorials you submitted?”
“They… they were written by my deputy.
I did not know they existed.”
“Your deputy,” I echoed, tasting the word like spoiled wine.
“How convenient for a man of your standing.”
“I… I never intended—”
Sweat poured down his face again.
Soon he would be nothing but a puddle.
“Do you have something to hide?”
“H-hide?”
He squeaked.
“Not at all! Nothing at all!”
“The Black Knight?”
“Wh-what?”
“The Black Knight?”
I pressed, savoring the moment.
His face drained of color.
Every noble present did the same.
They avoided my gaze like guilty children.
This information had been mine alone to keep.
“If none of you know…”
I let the silence stretch.
“Then I may have to cut the throat of someone who displeases me.”
“……What?”
He blinked rapidly.
“I mean, of course no one knows.”
“The Black Knight… the Black Knight… the Black Knight.”
“That… that is not what I meant!”
His voice cracked.
I felt a small, genuine laugh rise in my throat.
These idiots had been hiding something all along.
Good.
Very good.
“Nothing at all,” he repeated, voice trembling.
“Nothing at all!”
“Hmm.”
I tapped a finger on the table.
“Then we shall see.”
“And,” I added, rising to my feet, “the tea is rather unremarkable.”
If Seriel were here, she would have said exactly that.
***
I had been given the entire three-story wing of the East Duke’s private residence.
How desperately he must have wanted to avoid me.
“Captain Ricarton, the princess has arrived,” the maid announced, bowing low.
I opened the door myself.
There she stood, small and straight-backed.
Black hair tied in a simple ribbon, pink eyes bright with curiosity.
The moment I saw her pink eyes, I knew.
Seriel’s bloodline, unmistakable.
I knelt, bringing myself to her height.
“Your Highness.”
“I am Silsian Adelin.”
“I heard you are acting as the Empress’s representative.”
“For now,” I answered with a smile, “I am simply Ricarton.”
“Then may I call you that?”
“Of course.”
I stepped aside.
“Please, come in.”
We sat.
The moment our eyes met again, I was struck.
The same flat, emotionless expression as Seriel.
I stared, unable to look away.
Silsian tilted her head, puzzled.
“Why are you staring?”
“Sorry,” I said quickly.
“You resemble the Empress so closely, I could not help it.”
“Really?”
She leaned forward, eyes sparkling.
“Then why did you come all the way here?”
“I thought you were still acting as her representative.”
“But you cannot order the Empress around, can you?”
“Hahaha.”
“Anyway, tell me—what did you discover about the curse?”
“I felt the corrupted mana directly.”
“Corrupted mana?”
“Something different from normal mana.”
“Like… ink in water?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Silsian stared at the table, then began chewing the inside of her cheek.
It was strangely endearing.
“And yet you decided to summon a priest immediately?”
“Of course.”
“Why not call a mage first?”
“Because I knew it was divine power,” she said simply.
“I had already considered that possibility.”
Silsian’s eyes widened.
The calm mask cracked for the first time.
“You… you are a 6-Core Knight?”
“6-Core Knight and 6-Class Mage,” I corrected with a grin.
“6-Core 6-Class?!”
She shot to her feet so fast I flinched.
I remembered that exact expression—the one Seriel had worn the first time I spoke of my power.
Then the whip would follow.
“……Why?”
Silsian tilted her head again.
“I thought you were going to hit me.”
“Hit you?”
“You said you were going to cut someone’s throat earlier.”
“Ah.”
I laughed softly.
The tension in her shoulders melted.
“Night is late.”
“I should go.”
“Thank you for coming without warning.”
“It is no trouble at all.”
“Shall I walk you out?”
“No need.”
“It’s my house, after all.”
I opened the door for her.
Silsian waved her small hand once, then disappeared down the hall with her maid.
She would grow into a good Empress.
Seriel would be proud.
I hoped so.
***
The next morning I went to the fields where the Black Land had first appeared.
An hour’s walk west of the East Duke’s estate.
“This is the spot,” Captain Oberton said, pointing at ordinary brown earth.
“You didn’t need to come all the way out here yourself.”
“I am here to attend the Empress’s representative,” he replied politely.
His age and gentle demeanor made the weight of his duty feel heavier than it should.
Over fifty, he reminded me of my own father.
I closed my eyes and placed my hand on the soil.
The corrupted mana was gone.
“Whose land is this?”
“It belongs to the East Duke,” the village elder answered.
“All the residents of Kalgart work it together.”
He wiped sweat from his brow and hurried after me.
My chest ached for him.
“Please take me to the village.”
I expected something—anything—but felt nothing.
The ground was clean.
Just like before.
While I questioned the villagers, one young man stepped forward.
“I saw a knight in black armor,” he said quietly.
“At night, when I was patrolling for the pigs.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“He was alone.”
“How tall?”
“Shorter than me, I think.”
His own height matched mine almost exactly.
“What was he doing?”
“He walked among the fields.”
“Then… disappeared?”
“Like the ground swallowed him whole.”
“Disappeared into the earth?”
“Yes.”
“I thought he was a ghost.”
“You were right.”
“He vanished right before my eyes.”
Other young men nodded in agreement.
I rewarded them with five gold coins each.
“Th-thank you!”
“Such generosity!”
“It is only what Her Majesty would want.”
“We are grateful!”
***
“I remember clearly—I watched his body sink into the ground.”
From the letter floating in the air before Seriel, Ricarton’s magic had recorded every word.
“You are doing better work than I expected, Ricarton.”
Upon reaching the East, you delivered such results in one day.
Even the imperial knight corps, combing the entire country for a month, could not have found the Black Knight’s trail.
This man had been sitting idle all this time, and the regret burned.
Seriel smiled, warm and proud.
Then she noticed the Grand Chancellor standing beside her and straightened her mouth.
“Cough, cough.”
She cleared her throat and looked at the reports stacked on the table.
Black land reports from every corner of the empire.
Two weeks after the East.
“His range is wide,” she murmured.
“He is either not alone… or he is a 6-Class or higher mage who uses teleportation.”
“Either way, it is unsettling.”
Seriel transferred a few lines of Ricarton’s report to parchment and handed them to the Chancellor.
“Immediately dispatch priests to every blackened field.”