Because Defying the Prince's Will Is Terrifying
"You wish to attend the academy of the humans?"
"Yes, Father."
Seated upon his throne, the King of Draikna looked down at me. I had requested this audience to ask his leave to enroll in the Academy.
This was the great hall where the Dragonians held their councils of state, and Father, seated upon the throne, kept his expression solemn and composed.
"You have scarcely returned from the subjugation expedition to the Western Demonic Realm. Can you truly depart again on so early a date? I hear, too, that an unpleasant incident befell you of late."
"You mean the assassins?"
"Indeed. Even if they did you no harm, it must surely have been a matter of some concern."
"The assassins were weak. Hardly worth concerning myself over."
The King held his tongue for a moment. Then, straining all the while to keep his gaze fixed down upon me, he went on.
"Very well. Since you take it so lightly, I will concede that they were absurdly weak assassins, and speak of it no further. But must you go to the Academy?"
He pressed me instead to learn whatever I wished here in the Draikna Kingdom rather than at the Academy: if I wanted to study combat, he would set Dragonian warriors and mages to my instruction; if I wanted to learn statecraft, he would provide tutors of his own.
But.
"I am not going merely to study, Father. I am told the Imperial Academy, an institution raised by human hands, counts socializing as half its purpose. I would take this chance to learn alongside the other races, and to come to know their cultures and their people for myself."
I said this while looking my father straight in the eye. The moment our eyes met, the King's gaze wavered helplessly.
"A fine argument. Your thinking is mature and your purpose clear—there is no reason for me to dissuade you. Very well, then. When do you intend to depart?"
"The entrance examination is next month, so departing this weekend should leave me ample time."
"This weekend, I see. Understood. In turn, there is something I must give you. Wait a moment."
Father turned his gaze upon the court magician standing in attendance to one side.
Something to give me? In truth, this seemed to be the real reason I had been summoned. He had yielded far too easily for a man trying to talk me out of the Academy. It seemed he had some other purpose in meeting me here.
Stealthily, gingerly, the magician drew out his staff while stealing glances at my face. Gathering his mana, he traced a magic circle in the empty air. Watching closely, I judged it to be a form of summoning magic.
Summoning magic takes time.
While I waited, I surveyed the great hall. Dragonian soldiers stood arrayed along both sides at even intervals. Befitting the elite guard of the royal palace, they held their spears upright and stirred not so much as a muscle. The air was solemn and steadfast. Not one face changed expression, even beneath my wandering gaze. Father, perfectly composed, crossed his legs and looked down over the hall. A majesty befitting a king's authority settled over the room.
Every one of them—these dependable warriors and their king—was remarkable. They were likely the only souls in the whole kingdom who did not fear me. My mother, my elder brother, my younger sister—all of them shunned me out of terror. That a king could sit so composed upon his throne, and soldiers stand so straight in my presence, was, to me, extraordinary.
"All is ready, Your Majesty."
"Good. Bring it here."
The magician bore a number of items to my father.
"Yes, these are the ones I prepared. Demesis, come up here. I have items to bestow upon you as you depart for the Empire."
"What are these?"
I ascended the dais and asked as I accepted the items my father held out.
"A Mana Suppression Bracelet and Cloak. The court magician devoted long hours to crafting them specially, to hold your excessive power in check. Whenever you leave the country, you are to wear them without fail."
"A mana suppression bracelet and cloak?"
"As you know, the other races are generally far more delicate than we Dragonians. Were you to roam about without restraining your strength, you could do them grievous harm. These are for everyone's sake—never forget to carry them on your person."
"I shall honor your wishes and make grateful use of them, Father."
I fastened on the bracelet the magician handed me and swept the cloak about my shoulders. Plain as they appeared, the items pressed down hard upon my aura. The mana that had dominated the great hall—so thick it stole the breath—thinned to a whisper. Somehow, the King's complexion looked much the easier for it.
"Very well, then. Return safe and sound. Cause no incidents, if you can help it. You above all must take care. And send word home regularly, do you hear?"
"Yes, Father. I understand."
I bowed to the King with the fullest courtesy.
"If there is nothing more, you may take your leave."
The King of Draikna, whom I revered beyond all others. He was the only one in the world who could hold a conversation with me this long. Affairs of state kept him busy, so I seldom saw him, but that he would take such care to provide for me on the eve of so long a journey—I was grateful.
"You there—all of you, withdraw. I would speak with the court magician in private."
Demesis had gone. The King moved to dismiss the knights and attendants standing throughout the great hall.
However.
"Forgive our discourtesy, Your Majesty, but our legs are not quite our own yet."
One of the knights standing quietly made his honest confession. The order to withdraw had been given, yet every man of them remained frozen stiff where he stood.
"Tsk, tsk. What a timid lot. Did anyone faint this time?"
"Hey—oi. Is everyone all right?"
Creak, creak. The soldiers moved their half-frozen bodies with great effort, checking on one another's well-being. Wherever Demesis passed, such traces were always left behind. The Dragonians, locked stiff with fear and unable to take a single step, warmed their limbs with mana and painfully worked the cold from their bodies.
"Hey, hey—snap out of it. This one's out cold again."
The knight of the weakest nerve had lost consciousness where he stood. Another knight slapped him across the face, and he was hauled forcibly out of the hall.
"Whew. Your Majesty—might I also have a short rest before we speak? My body has not quite loosened up."
As the great hall gradually emptied, the court magician, too, made his request of the King.
"By all means."
Having granted the rest, the King stepped out to the privy for a moment. Sitting across from Demesis for so long had left him desperately in need of relieving himself. He saw to his business quickly and returned to his throne. Seated once more, his expression was profoundly calm and settled—nothing like the face he wore before Demesis.
"You have returned?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The court magician, his color likewise restored to a healthy glow, entered the hall.
"Sending the prince off to a foreign land fills me with joy and worry in equal measure. Will he truly come to no harm?"
"Whatever do you mean, Your Majesty?"
"Do you ask because you truly do not know? The Gloria Imperial Academy. Is it a place fit to receive our prince?"
The King feared Demesis. Honestly, there was no reason not to. Demesis had been unusually strong and frightening even as a child, having inherited his dragon blood thick and pure—but after receiving the Dragon Heart from the Progenitor Dragon, he had become an entirely different being. It was as though a new Progenitor Dragon had appeared in the world. He fell short of the Black Ancient Dragon, the nation's legend who had emerged ten years ago, yet he possessed power that no ordinary being could hope to withstand.
Hoping to gauge that strength, they had attached him to the subjugation expedition to the Western Demonic Realm—and every last monster fled before him, leaving a new milestone in the nation's history: the first subjugation campaign ever carried through to its end. A neighboring kingdom, envious of the Dragon God's renown, had spared no effort in selecting one of the most celebrated assassins from the underworld's strongest guild and dispatching him in secret—and Demesis had pronounced him "an absurdly weak assassin" and sent him home alive. At the sight of Demesis lavishing hospitality upon the assassin and hoping aloud that he would come visit again, every Dragonian in the land shook their heads.
A Dragonian strong enough to be carved into history had been born—yet he was a being so terrifying that no one could bear his presence. The King, too, spent each day walking on eggshells, barely holding on to his dignity as a father and as the nation's king before him. In such a precarious balance, the news that he meant to leave for a foreign land to study was the last thing the King had wanted—but greater still was his dread of what might follow if Demesis were to misapply his strength at the Academy and cause a great catastrophe, and of the conflicts between nations such a disaster might ignite.
Had the world not only just found peace, after a hundred years of continental war? The emergence of the overwhelmingly powerful Demesis was like a nuclear bomb wandering the countryside, liable to go off at any moment. It was a mercy that he was free of greed and gentle of heart, but even so, a king's worries were beyond counting. And so the King had brought out the items he and the court magician had spent so long preparing—artifacts to control his mana and dampen his aura.
"The Empire boasts hero-class Swordmasters and Archmages renowned throughout the world. And the Hero's party, who distinguished themselves in the war against the demons, still safeguards the nation. Surely, for now, we may rest easy?"
"You know as well as I—there are few alive who could stop Demesis by force. That is a Dragon Heart bestowed by the Progenitor Dragon himself. Better to trust in Demesis's gentle nature."
For all his terrible strength, Demesis did not take life lightly. Everyone would give him a wide berth of their own accord, and he himself had no taste for strife—trusting in that, the King had approved his enrollment at the Academy.
"I will reach out to people in the Empire and urge the utmost caution. As it happens, the Academy's headmaster is a man of considerable flexibility—he will read our meaning correctly."
"Yes, do that. Explain in the greatest possible detail the danger the prince poses and every point that demands special care. No amount of vigilance can be excessive."
At the King's charge, the court magician nodded with earnest diligence.
"I cannot oppose the prince's will—but at the very least, taking pains to see that no disaster occurs is the best I can do as king."
Seated upon his throne, he let his eyes wander over the place where Demesis had stood. When Demesis said he would spare the assassin, when he said he would not punish the one who had commissioned the killing, when he said he wished to attend the Academy—the King had been unable to argue him out of a single thing.
Because defying the prince's will was terrifying.
A procession bound for the Academy was assembled. The entrance examination would be held in one month's time. By way of the Empire's western gate, the Imperial Capital—home of the Imperial Academy—lay less than two weeks away, but since they meant to arrive early and allow time to settle in, the schedule had been set generously, and they had departed well in advance.
Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop.
I sat in the carriage, gazing out the window. Every horse alive feared me, so riding alone was out of the question. From inside the coachman-driven carriage, I took in the passing countryside through the glass.
Whoosh, whoosh.
The horses ran fast, and the scenery before my eyes turned over in an instant. I watched it all with curious eyes.
This was my first time beyond the palace walls since the subjugation of the Demonic Realm. In my earliest years I had lived shut within the royal palace, and until I came of age I had lain abed day after day, learning to bear the Dragon Heart. The Demonic Realm had offered nothing worth calling scenery—only one dark, dreary stretch after another—so this was, in truth, my first real look at the outside world.
I gazed at the neatly kept road, at the green fields unrolling wide to either side, at the mountain ranges winding away in long curves. I was still committing each sight to memory, comparing them against the landscapes described in my books, when a band of strangely dressed men came galloping toward us on horseback. The carriage column I rode with was just then passing through a long and rugged valley.
"Hold! Everyone, halt!"
The knight commanding the column at its head reined in his horse.
"Bandits! Eyes front—prepare for battle!"
Bandits?
A smile spread across my lips at the prospect of this new event.