Why Is 'The Tyrant Crown Prince's Secret and Hot Obsession' Written in the Ancient Grimoire? (2)
Let's wind the clock back exactly eight months. It was roughly two months after I'd converted the Holy Sword into a five-gold glow-in-the-dark street lamp and pocketed a truly obscene amount of slush funds.
That day, I stood in the corridor outside the Archmage's office on the top floor of the Lumiere Empire's Imperial Magic Tower, clutching a thick stack of approval documents while enduring yet another tedious wait. Inside the Akashic Great Library—the heart of the tower and a sacred repository containing every scrap of magical knowledge the empire had ever accumulated—I was witnessing an absolutely farcical scene in real time.
"How do you find it, Lady Fiora? This is the very heart of the Magic Tower, where the truths of the continent lie sleeping. A most exalted space that only the successive tower masters of the empire have been permitted to enter for hundreds of years."
The voice belonged to Elias von Bergmann, the arrogant Archmage who normally looked at others like they were insects. Yet as he guided the Saintess Fiora, his tone dripped with nauseating pride and tenderness, like a peacock in heat fanning its feathers in full courtship display.
"Wow... there are so many books. The walls are entirely made of them!"
Fiora, dressed in a pure white gown, spun around the library with wide-eyed wonder.
"Indeed. Each volume here holds value equal to an entire major city. Allow me to show you my most prized original, specially for you, Lady Fiora."
Elias snapped his fingers elegantly in the air. The deepest sealing barrier dissolved, and a majestic ancient tome bound in red dragon leather with ornate gold embellishments floated gracefully down into Fiora's hands. It was the exact book Elias had dramatically presented on the communication orb earlier—the empire's national treasure number one, the Ancient Grimoire of Akashic.
"If you open this book, Lady Fiora, the spirits of mana will surely..."
"......"
Elias continued with brimming expectation. That was when the Saintess Fiora's expression began to stiffen slightly as she idly flipped the book open. Her gaze landed on the densely packed ancient runes and geometric magic arrays covering the parchment.
One second. Two seconds. Three.
"Ouch..."
Fiora suddenly pressed a hand to her forehead and let out a small groan.
"L-Lady Fiora? What's wrong? Is there something wrong with your precious body...!"
"Ugh... The letters are so cramped. They look like a bunch of wriggling black bugs dancing around. And it smells like old paper... Looking at these stiff books is giving me a headache like my skull is about to split open..."
Large tears welled up in her enormous eyes before plopping onto the parchment with a wet sound. The Saintess hurled the book to the floor, clutched her head with both hands, and began to sob.
"Hic... I like stories about handsome princes from fairy tales or beautiful fairies... Magic books are too stiff and have way too many words. I just can't get into them..."
An excruciating silence fell over the great library. The moment one of Fiora's tears hit the floor, Elias's expression transformed into something that could only be described as a yaksha risen from hell.
Was he furious that the Magic Tower's priceless heritage had been insulted by the Saintess's ignorance? Absolutely not. The main characters of this romance-fantasy world didn't bother with anything as rational as that.
"...How dare they."
Lethal mana leaked from between Elias's lips.
"How dare these worthless scraps of paper cause a headache for our noble Saintess?"
Whoosh—!
Jet-black hellfire—Hellfire—erupted from his fingertips. He wasn't angry that the tomes containing centuries of knowledge didn't recognize him. This was pure rage at the 'culprits' that had dared to hurt the head of the woman he loved.
"T-Tower Master!! Please calm down!! You mustn't!!"
"That is the essence of the 9th Circle left behind by the first Tower Master!!"
The elderly mages who had been waiting in the corridor rushed in, half-mad with panic, clinging to his robes. But nothing registered in Elias's eyes anymore.
"Shut up!! I will burn this blasphemous library that made Lady Fiora shed tears until not a trace remains, starting today!!"
Crazy bastard. He was genuinely insane.
I watched the spectacle from behind a corridor pillar, grinding my teeth. Those books represented the history of the continent. Each one was a treasure so valuable that selling just a single volume on the black market could buy an entire castle. Yet this deranged, horny mage was about to incinerate my potential 'retirement fund' simply because the Saintess had a headache.
I absolutely could not allow those books to turn to ash. Every last one of those prime assets was money I needed to take with me when I made my nighttime escape!
I took one deep breath, calmly stepped over the elderly mages who'd been thrown to the ground by their collars, and strode boldly into the great library.
"Tower Master!! Please quell your anger!!"
My resounding cry made Elias's gaze snap toward me. The flames flickered as if they might engulf me at any moment, but I didn't even blink. As a master of loyal subordinate cosplay, I put on an utterly tragic expression.
"What kind of worm are you? Do you have some complaint about me burning these blasphemous books?"
"I am Ilario Bern, a scribe from the Ministry of Finance! A complaint? Perish the thought! Those wicked bundles of paper that dared inflict pain upon the Saintess's precious body certainly deserve to be burned!"
"Then get out of my way."
"However, Tower Master! Would merely burning them truly wash away their sins? If you burn them, not a trace will remain to console the wounds the Saintess has suffered. True revenge would be forcing those arrogant, rigid books to submit forever to Lady Fiora's tastes, would it not!"
The flames flickering at Elias's fingertips faltered at my sophistry.
"...Submit?"
Got him.
I clasped my hands respectfully and turned toward Saintess Fiora with an exceedingly kind, sweet smile.
"Did you not say so yourself just now, Saintess? You prefer stories with handsome princes and fairies, sweet romance novels. In that case, we simply need to adapt those stale old grimoires into 'fairy tales and romance novels' that are easy and exciting for you to read!"
"What?"
"I call it the Grimoire Total Revision and Cultural Translation Project! We'll completely rework the contents of those books to suit the Saintess's tastes. For example, Ancient Demon Summoning could become When the Prickly Northern Duke's Beast Awakens! And The 9th Circle Abyss of Mana could be transformed into The Tyrant Crown Prince's Secret and Hot Obsession!"
I spread my arms dramatically, looking back and forth between Elias and Fiora.
"Just imagine it, Tower Master! The Saintess reading those novels in her warm bed each night, smiling as she thinks, 'Ah, these fascinating books were all specially adapted for me by Lord Elias.' She would be moved by your profound consideration every single day! That would be the most perfect and sweet punishment we could inflict on those insolent books!"
"...!"
At that moment, a massive flash of enlightenment crossed Elias's wavering pupils. Scholarly passion for knowledge? The dignity of an Archmage? Those concepts had been completely formatted from his mind. The only thing operating at full capacity in his brain cells was the vision of Fiora smiling at him from her bed while reading.
"Oh my..."
Fiora, standing behind me, clasped her hands together and blushed.
"You're going to change all of them into pretty love stories so they'll be easy for me to read? Really, Lord Elias? Then I'll read them every single day..."
Game over.
With that decisive blow from Fiora, the Hellfire blazing in Elias's hand went pfft and extinguished. He cleared his throat with an affected cough and looked down at me with the solemn expression befitting the continent's greatest genius.
"Ahem. What you say makes sense. A book should exist for its reader, after all. If a book dares to reject the Saintess, it is only right to rework its very essence and offer it to her."
Elias lifted his chin and commanded me.
"You said you were a scribe from the Ministry of Finance? Your idea is excellent. I will give you my full support, so take responsibility for removing every grimoire in this library to an external workshop and completely 'adapting' them to suit the Saintess's tastes."
"Yes! Your command will be carried out! Ah, however, the dragon leather cover and decorations on the Ancient Grimoire contain such unique magical power that dismantling and reprocessing them will require an enormous budget..."
I subtly offered the 'blank approval documents' I'd brought along. Elias didn't even bother reading the contents before scrawling his dazzling golden mana signature across them.
"Draw the budget without limit from the tower's special activity funds. However, if the Saintess ever grows bored or complains of a headache even once, I will hang your head in the public square."
"Of course! I will fill them with stimulating(?) content so fascinating that she'll stay up all night reading!"
I bowed at a perfect ninety degrees while screaming with joy inside.
That afternoon, I mobilized thirty cargo wagons from the Magic Tower and legally swept up ten thousand original grimoires containing the essence of continental magic. Just two months after legally fleecing the Holy Sword from the Imperial Knight Commander, I had now legally cleaned out the Magic Tower's vault from under the continent's strongest mage.
When the wagons arrived at the dark back alley on the outskirts of the imperial capital—where Clotilde was running her secret printing press—she came out to meet us and couldn't close her mouth at the mountain of grimoires loaded in the carts.
"Ilario. Are you actually insane?"
"Thank you for the compliment, Lady Clotilde."
"You cleaned out the entire Akashic Great Library? And Elias signed off on it himself? What kind of magic did you use?"
I jumped down from the wagon and gave the most expensive-looking red dragon leather grimoire a few taps.
"Magic? I simply attached a bell to the collar of a beast in heat. Now it's time to extract the valuable contents. Have the items you procured through those discreet social channels been prepared?"
At my question, Clotilde let out a dry laugh and threw open the iron door to the printing press's underground warehouse.
"Yes. Just as you ordered, I bought tens of thousands of third-rate hardcore 19+ romance novels that were rotting as unsold inventory in the back-alley publishers. I carefully selected the really nasty ones—the ones with illustrations so explicit that even noble young ladies read them in secret."
Inside the warehouse, mountains of books with provocative covers were stacked high. The titles were works of art.
The Hot Night of the Prickly Northern Duke, The Orc Chief and the Escaped Saintess, The Tyrant Crown Prince's Secret and Hot Obsession, and so on.
"Right, then. Let's call in the printers. It's time to begin the cover-swapping operation—stripping the precious leather covers off these noble grimoires and carefully pasting them onto those third-rate romance novels."
It was a magnificent three-birds-one-stone national treasury heist: curing the Saintess's headache, preserving the Archmage's dignity, and securing a fat retirement fund for ourselves.
After completing the cover swap on all ten thousand volumes, the 'erotic novels' were carefully sealed back inside the grand library a month later beneath their magnificent leather covers. Meanwhile, the real grimoires—now hollowed out—were safely transported to the neighboring Varcia Empire through Clotilde's smuggling network.
And now, back in the present.
In front of the open-air hot spring at the Varcia Empire resort, Clotilde pressed a hand to her forehead and shook her head, apparently recalling the absurd all-night cover-swapping operation from the past.
"To think that the 19+ romance novel whose cover we swapped eight months ago... is now the national salvation artifact that Elias is risking his life to retrieve."
"Life really is impossible to predict. Who could have known that among all those books, The Tyrant Crown Prince's Secret and Hot Obsession—the one with the absolute highest spice level—would end up inside the cover of the Ancient Grimoire of Akashic?"