Old Man Matthew, who taught me and Kyle swordsmanship, was a mercenary and his favorite saying was, ‘Even if you are bitten by a ghoul, you will live as long as you are alert’. In fact, his right arm was bare from the elbow, a result of a stunt he pulled in the Hillesheim Forest, where ghouls lurked.
However, I was bitten by time, not a ghoul. I stayed up all night trying to think of a way to go back, making me completely forget about the letter of reflection I needed to submit to Illestia. In the morning, I rushed to write it during class time, but I was caught adding random Baby Gremlin theme song lyrics throughout my essay due to my careless writing.
“Hey, Dalton. Your passion for children’s toys really touched me.”
I was dragged into the student council room by Bolton in the middle of a swordsmanship class. As Bolton shoved me in and then disappeared with a respectful salute, Illestia’s sarcasm bombarded me.
“I’m glad you like it. Belle should be satisfied with that, right?”
“Haha, if it’s my Flora, then probably. But I don’t think Professor Humphreys would.”
I deliberately said it dubiously, but Illestia was no pushover after all. He cleared the papers piled up like a mountain on the table and gestured towards me. I slowly pulled out a chair, remembering the last time I sat across from Keran Illestia, who wasn’t him.
“So I thought I’d teach you how to write a reflection letter.”
“I didn’t know that the Crown Prince of Illestia was well-versed in self-reflective essays enough to teach anyone. Have you used them frequently?”
“Well, I was raised by my mother, who spanked me on the buttocks while teaching me.”
I never thought I would learn undisclosed information about Kaitlyn the Great, even after coming to a different world. I sighed and accepted the bundle of papers Illestia held out. It was the reflection letter I submitted this morning.
As I read through it carefully, I realized that it was indeed poorly written, even though it was my own work. The lyrics of the song that I forcefully inserted to increase the length could be forgiven, but most of the sentences lacked any sign of reflection. There were even some passages where the grammar was so messed up that I had no idea what they meant.
I was not particularly good at writing in the first place. My greatest writing masterpiece in life would be the love letter I wrote in my adolescence when my sensitivity was at its peak and I was unable to control my feelings (which Maverick Villard still ridicules me for!). But even that was the result of me harassing employees who said they had read some books and getting them to edit it.
“I think it has linguistic value,” Ilestia said.
I was about to protest, but I shut my mouth after reading the sentence, “I apologize for filling mana into the core of the circuit according to Fisher’s Law.” I had written it while taking magic science class.
Under Illestia’s direction, I diligently moved my pen. Unlike Bolton, he was a fairly good teacher. He didn’t make me mindlessly copy a stereotypical reflection phrase that Professor Humphreys would have repeated all her life, but instead encouraged me to identify what I was lacking.
But in this situation, the teacher I needed was a bad one.
“You know, Illestia, can’t you just tell me how to write so you can let me go?”
“With that attitude, your reflection won’t be proven.”
“You know, I will not reflect. Honestly, even after correcting all these funny sentences, I will still buy animal-shaped marshmallows. I think a lion would be a perfect fit for my hot chocolate.”
“You’re really hopeless, Dalton.”
Illestia raised the corners of his mouth at a somewhat elegant angle. There was a slight hint of contempt at the end of his words. Suddenly, I wondered what a big deal it was to him that the marshmallow bunny ran into Florence Belle with its soft body for him to react so sensitively.
“Do you like Belle?”
I asked impulsively.
“Why? Because she’s pretty? Because she’s nice?”
“Is there any reason you should know that?”
Illestia asked back as he traced a line through my newly written reflection essay with a quill dipped in red ink. His reluctance to make eye contact and his overly sharp tone annoyed me, no matter how nervous I was.
In such cases, I usually choose one of two actions. Either I turned my back and never looked again, or I held on fiercely like the brave cat, Lilu, whose claws could firmly embed in my clothes.
Maybe it would be nice to have some fun with a little prank. My life has been so tough lately that I didn’t have time to hold a fart-making magic tool.
“Of course, because I am your lover in a parallel world.”
I spoke as solemnly as possible. Only then did Illestia raise his head and look at me. The line he was drawing on the paper was now far from being horizontal.
“Dalton, perhaps… Did you get your head hit in the swordsmanship class?”
The words “Are you crazy?” were deeply written in his furrowed eyebrows and eyelashes that quivered like butterfly wings. I felt a euphoria similar to when I made fun of Professor Humphreys over the ‘stretched forehead incident.’
“You asked who ‘Rosemary Blossom’ was, right? She is the ‘Florence Belle’ of the world I was in. She is the secretary of the student council, with flowing blonde hair, eyes like violets, and the appearance of a porcelain doll. I came from a different world than this one.”
“What… .”
“You were also the student council president there, um… We were very passionate lovers. And I’m not joking. That’s why I’m a little sad. Every time you talk about Belle, I feel like I’m not important.”
I managed to squeeze out some tears using the most terrifying imagination possible. I imagined that the demonic twin would trick my parents into taking over the Dalton Merchant Guild and that I would remain a student at Fitzsimmons Academy forever.
“Should I call Professor Chapman?”
“Thank you for your concern. I’m perfectly fine. Enough to describe the scar on your lower back. Is Bolton still acting like a sinner?”
When Illestia collapsed in Kaitlyn the Great’s chamber of secrets, I accidentally saw about half of his bare torso while moving him. He had a long horizontal wound on his waist, which didn’t seem old judging by its shape and color.
At the time, I didn’t think much about it as I was in shock, but looking back after learning about Edgar’s brother’s failed assassination attempt, it was a trace of an assassination attempt. The fact that Keran Illestia had traces of an assassination attempt means that his aide, Marquis Bolton, made a mistake.
When I said the truth mixed with lies, Illestia looked very confused. After several actions of parting and closing his lips, he turned over the paper, which had been almost smeared with red ink. Soon the long-awaited order fell.
“You can go, Dalton.”
“Really? I think my reflection is still lacking.”
“This is enough.”
I walked to the entrance of the student council room, trying to appear pathetic even though I felt like humming a tune. Even after that, I couldn’t resist sneaking my head inside the door just before it closed completely, adding this as an afterthought:
“Hey, Illestia. Since we’re at it, would you mind calling me “Ari”? I want to hear the nickname you used to call me in my world.”
He only called me that once, but it wasn’t a lie. A tiny crack appeared in the smile he was wearing all the time. I walked out into the hallway and smiled excitedly as soon as I turned the corner. It was simply addictive to tease the “Prince with a Frozen Heart,” who would spill blue blood if stabbed, and it seemed that it would be hard for me to stop doing so in the future.
***
The library was quite crowded, probably because the end of the semester was approaching. I peeked through the bookshelves, walking among the students carrying armfuls of books. It was to find the <Patch Notes>.
Rosemary Blossom was the one who sent me here; perhaps Florence Belle could send me back. To confirm that possibility, it would be better to know what she was up to. One near-death experience was enough.
The <Patch Notes> had the names of Keran Illestia and Edgar Ramos written on it. I’m guessing they were Blossom’s or Belle’s, the main characters’ counterparts, so it must also contain clues to figure out her identity.
I remembered meeting Illestia at the library, holding <Patch Notes>. If I remember correctly, Illestia found the <Patch Notes> here.
I tried to remember which direction Illestia had come from, but all I could remember was how awesome his face was, even in the midst of the floating dust from the books. Oh, Ariel. Why are you so weak toward handsome men?
And, of course, there was no way I would suddenly remember the location of <Patch Notes> just because I was criticizing myself. The library at Fitzsimmons Academy was incredibly vast. It seemed that more than half of the books on the continent were here (In fact, that wouldn’t be wrong. Wizards often looked for solutions to most problems in books). Also, the bookshelves were so tightly packed that the books seemed to be pushing against each other.
After wandering, I came to a place where people were rare. I attended the academy for 10 years, but it was the first time I saw a wall other than the wall at the entrance of the library. <Patch Notes>, ironically, only showed up after going that deep into the library.
It was fortunate it was there, but it was unfortunately ‘located’ at a height that I could not reach even on tiptoe.
To get the ladder, I had to cross the damn sea of books again. I didn’t even have the confidence to go back here without getting lost.
So I wondered if, among the auxiliary magic I had learned so far, there was a spell that could overcome this difficulty. I lamented my own shortsightedness in memorizing only strengthening spells to secretly cast them on my wooden sword without Bolton’s knowledge.
“If I cast the spell to rock a baby’s crib on the bookshelf—”
“It will collapse, and you’ll probably be buried. If that’s what you want, you can try it.”
When I turned around to face his ostensibly friendly voice, I was greeted by Keran Illestia’s chest, which was far too close. Perhaps I had unknowingly stepped back; I felt the irregularly protruding corner of the books stabbing my back.
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