Chapter 101
Chapter 101
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 101
Chapter Title: A Butterfly Flitting Through the Prison
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I never imagined it would turn out like this.
I figured the heartbroken black mage would lose all will to live and just collapse. Not hurl himself into suicide with an "I don't want to live, I should just die" explosion...
Still, I handled the cleanup diligently. I sifted through the wreckage of the blasted manor for evidence, kept the captured viscount and his greatsword thug alive for transport, and rescued the hypnosis victims I'd herded into one room.
By the time I was done, the Capital Knights had arrived at the manor.
"This must be the place—the source of the commotion."
Weeeeng, clank.
"...!!"
What the hell was that sound?
A deep, resonant engine roar echoed, stirring the soul of any man. And right before my eyes stood a squad of knights in powered suits, looking badass as hell.
Not the bulky type, but sleek and agile.
Ten knights stood in perfect formation, clad in pristine silver armor. The surfaces were embedded with dozens of layers of compressed magic, and the longswords at their sides were leagues beyond the magic swords I'd crafted.
How much did all that gear even cost?
Power source... personal mana, huh. Not mana stones supplying energy, but drawing directly from the wearer's internal mana. No average joe could handle that armor properly.
At their center, a middle-aged knight in golden armor issued commands. A squad guarding such a vast area wouldn't number just eleven, so this must be one detachment of the Capital Knights.
I hadn't expected them to look so tactical.
I seriously debated bolting right then. But if I did, the whole incident might get buried as "tragic viscount caught in black mage terror" or some nonsense.
There'd be back-and-forth over evidence and witnesses, dragging things out forever. So since I'd already kicked the hornet's nest, might as well stir it up more.
This called for a PR battle. I decided to fan the flames.
So I snuck Scarface Senior and the injured Pingbalrez out with the Tower Master, leaving me alone at the scene. Then I bellowed at the Capital Knights, who were assessing the situation.
"That viscount was in league with the black mage! I have proof of my innocence and evidence exposing his ugly crimes! I'll gladly accept punishment for the disturbance in the capital, but I acted solely out of conscience!"
I amplified it with a projection spell, booming loud enough for nearby nobles to hear my condemnation. That laid the groundwork for the PR war.
The knight in shiny golden powered armor straightened his ranks, raised an arm with its engine whirring, and asked. He looked ready to launch a rocket punch if I got cheeky.
"You done?"
"One more thing before I go?"
"Speak."
"As for that viscount—he harbored wicked intent and abused harmless magic for hypnosis! Secret documents I obtained show his next target was... Your Excellency!"
I based it on the viscount's ravings about "teaching so-and-so a lesson," but you know. I've got that condition. All I remembered was a kiwi-ish name and nothing about who he was.
So I fudged it vaguely. Tacked on honorifics at the end—they'd interpret it as the viscount targeting some high-up with his hypnosis app.
"Now you're done?"
"Ah, yes. That's it, sir."
"Take him into custody."
Mana-sealing cuffs clamped on. A quick scan showed they siphoned mana out and vented it externally—like endlessly bailing a flooding well.
I could probably slip them if I tried. But that'd bring the engine-punch flying, so I played nice.
And off to jail I went.
First time in a medieval jail.
I pictured drab stone walls and iron bars, but the capital's prison was different. Cleaner than expected.
Clean? It even felt luxurious. Spotless white floor tiles, a bed, books for killing time. The bedsheets were freshly laundered.
Golden Armor had Silver Armor escort me in. I asked the knight who brought me.
"Is the facility always this nice?"
"Yes. It's mainly for highborn folk or those acting on their orders."
The knight was polite and genteel. Hard to believe this was treatment for the suspect who blew up a viscount's manor. Why the kid gloves?
Theory 1: She's smitten.
The knight pitched her voice low to hide her gender, but my instincts screamed woman. Probably rocked dolphin pants.
If my fatal charm had melted this upright lady's heart, time to play the honey trap. I pondered which rofan male lead persona to deploy—gentle young master, maybe...
"We know about you. The Violet Magic Tower mage dispatched to the academy on Second Prince's orders, right?"
"Huh."
How do you know that? I stared at her.
I hadn't shown my face in public much, and my fame didn't shake the continent. When and how had she clocked me?
"You don't know much about the Capital Knights, do you."
"Ah, yes. I only recently caught the Second Prince's eye. Spent all my time researching in the tower till my assignment—I'm clueless about the scene. I'll remember your kindness, so could you explain?"
"No need. Just forget it. Favors and grudges alike."
What did that mean?
"The Capital Knights maintain security in the Crown Hall core. And the core is packed with high nobles or equivalent power players. Politics inevitably clash in our operations."
"I see..."
"We strive for utmost neutrality in our duties..."
Pieces clicked in my head.
When trouble hits a power hub, it's usually power vs. power. Cops show up, and it's instant turf war.
"My grandson-in-law's a prosecutor—you sure about this?"
"My kin's at a big law firm, Dad's buddies with a gold-badge bigwig—wanna test me?"
Full-on "you're in the wrong" showdowns with every connection flexed...!!
The Capital Knights, squeezed in the middle, had to stay politically neutral.
Luxury cells, prior intel on a fresh academy appointee like me—all part of that effort.
"I still can't forget that trivial case—a noble ditching pet waste on the street—escalating to official faction statements."
Now I got it.
Why the luxury jail: Reporting the viscount as a black mage meant Second Prince's side initiated. Mistreat his mage, risk backlash.
Why so meek: No title now, but who knows? Rude to his subordinate? Leverage. Better stay polite.
All evasion moves.
Forget favors and grudges... I read the subtext now.
"We just do our jobs—fight your own fights, please." Life's weary plea.
I entered the cell solemnly. Gotta stay quiet, no trouble.
I flopped on the bed and muttered.
"So friggin' bored..."
Blasted through the books already. Whittle some models? Too conspicuous. It's a prison, comfy or not.
Hammer out modeling here? Instant "jailed mage plotting escape!" misunderstanding. Plus flak for slipping cuffs.
So I lay still, but had zilch to do.
Normally I'd plan the next session, but zero motivation. Weird.
Maybe backlash from my new Heart-Shattering Mystic Arrow I whipped up and fired.
It compressed emotional data into an arrow. Players ride intense ups and downs in sessions—if hit all at once, lethal magic. Like Violet Tower Master's Info Bomb that nearly wrecked my sim world. Thank god Erel blocked it.
If firing hastily mixed in my emotions... explains this listlessness.
"Ugh..."
Pulled covers over my head. Sleep if nothing else—but eyes shut, tossing, mind raced.
Kicking blankets to kill time.
"...Sleep?"
"Tower Master?"
Her voice whispered in my ear. Peeked—there she was, snuck in and glued to me under the covers.
I poked my head out, checked the bars. No guard, but could return anytime—better hide. Ducked back in.
"How long you been here?"
"...Watching the whole time. W-What if they hurt you."
"I'd have name-dropped you to bluff through. Glad you're here—dying of boredom. C'mere."
"Eep...!"
Hugged her tight. Snuggled perfectly, like puzzle pieces locking. Always felt right. Soothing too.
"Th-They'll spring you soon. Yuria... said she went to tell. The Second Prince."
"Oh, really? Good. Just count down till release. Once out... hmm."
"Something you wanna do?"
Thump-thump. Her upturned gaze suggested she had ideas. Tickled her nape. Eyes fluttered shut—enjoyed it.
"What ya wanna do?"
"W-Well, um... We got dragged in, but originally, sightseeing. If time left... wanna keep going."
"Just us?"
"...Sounds nice. Hehe."
She beamed, burrowing deeper.
Black mage and Violet traitor leads—I'd dig till dead ends anyway. Plenty time after.
We whispered plans. Five hours subjective later, Second Prince came to bail me.
Two floors below the prison: Capital Knights 3rd Squad command post, hidden.
"Major magic-user holding cell 101, surveillance nominal."
"Target hasn't noticed the tap, sir!"
-So friggin' bored...
The mage's voice came crystal clear. All systems green. 3rd Squad Chief Ronald stroked his mustache smugly and bellowed a laugh.
"Uahaha! Mages think mana scans cover everything! They know zilch of science. Science!"
Secret in the bed frame's metal.
Sound traveled pipes physically spied his mutters.
Hidden lenses scoped the room live.
Pure science, zero mana. No one'd suspect the fortune sunk in—no mage grandpa'd spot it.
"So careless... Way too careless... Thought we Capital Knights were some power-kissing pushovers?! We'll exploit that gap! We're steel-clad law enforcers—!!"
Ronald hopped in glee. Loved crooks getting due punishment.
Best: noble pawn's tail cut, wailing "You promised to save me, master...!!" Power doesn't excuse crime—judgment falls!
Like this punk strolling into jail on Second Prince's clout!
"Unreported noble assault in Crown Hall—illegal! Manor blast, noise pollution, noble slaying—all crimes!"
"No viscount body found!"
"Noble kidnapping then—illegal!!"
Sure, Second Prince pulls strings, mage walks. One step back for two forward. Knights don't forget.
Past records (suspiciously thin), odd moves (instant Second Prince faction entry), academy sightings: elite secret agent forged by prince.
Super-legal status. Cherished blade? Prince'd yank from jail by any means. Fueled his fire more.
Tap intel, nail with charges!
Ronald clenched fist in resolve—then the unthinkable blared from the listener.
-Tower Master?
Silence.
"What..."
"What?!"
Command buzzed uneasy. Tower Master? Walking strategic weapons—safely stashed in towers?
Ronald grabbed the ear-on-speaker knight's collar.
"Tap lead! Repeat. Must've misheard. You were closest—heard clear! What'd he say?!"
"T-Tower... Tower Master! Clear as day!"
-I'd have name-dropped you to bluff. Glad you're here—bored. C'mere.
"Kyyyaaak!!"
Mage's voice sealed it. Psychotic hallucination? Data suggested otherwise.
Manor-level blast: unnatural conical spread, mana-warped trajectory. Few could pull that.
Mage from Violet Tower. Points to Violet Magic Tower Master...!
"Position report?!"
"None confirmed, sir!"
"Missing position report... Strategic weapon sneaked into capital?!!"
Thought minor Second Prince-Redburn spat—no. Prince played unpermitted Violet card!
Ronald sweated bullets.
"Second Prince... starting full war...?!"
No mere squabble. Prince drew sword. Shadow and light expansion—decision made.
"Ch-Chief! Then what do we Capital Knights prep for?!!"
"...Contact 1st Squad. Request Captain dispatch..."
"Sir, that'll... massive property damage again...!!"
"No choice! Apex monster needs matching monster! Mediate—no full war... At least no fights in Crown Hall!!"
Mediation needs power.
"Oh gods..."
Ronald prayed for Crown Hall's peace.