The Editor Is the Novel’s Extra

Prince, our prince (4)

“Arthur, come in for a while.”

“Will you finally let me in? I’m about to go overboard.”

“Let’s not talk…”

In front of the fireplace, Arthur, sitting cross-legged in an armchair, looked as comfortable as if he was sitting in his own house.

“Why did you drag in those dangerous guys alone?”

“I saw the other day that when the subspace reset, everything inside disappeared. Only living people come back to this site. I won’t make a fuss about being attacked but disposing of the bodies has always been a big deal, so that’s why.”

It boggled Kleio’s mind that he could scratch his head and laugh about it.

‘How many people have this child killed to be able to deal with bodies like that?’

“Also, I was in a hurry out of fear that the future arch-mage might be killed.”

“You speak well for a high school student with dried blood on you. That was because of you, but I’m grateful that you stopped them. I’m grateful. I really am. But where is the guarantee that I will become an arch-mage?”

Arthur adjusted his legs and sat up straighter.

“Show me evidence to the contrary. Those men had the power of level 5 swordsmen, but they couldn’t penetrate your defense magic, that of a level 3 wizard?”

‘No. How did you pay attention to all that when your life was in danger?’

“My eyes aren’t wrong; everyone will recognize it soon. Your true value not only as a wizard but also your ability to analyze and predict things.”

Kleio closed his mouth, having no words to refute him. Arthur laughed and twisted around.

“Think about your discovery of the relic at the Trinity Auction House, after all. What if the capital hears about it?”

Just imagining it made his appetite drop.

“So, I’ll help you out in advance. If you bet on me now, I’ll return your stake tenfold later.”

“How specifically are you asking me to be on your side? As a colleague? A friend? Or are you asking me to swear allegiance?”

Arthur shrugged when an answer different than the usual refusals returned.

“Would you like to swear allegiance?”

“No, I’ll never do it.”

“I see. Then what kind of loyalty? It would be unreasonable to ask you to be a friend or a coworker right away, though I know you’ll treat me well. But, at least, don’t stand with Melchior or Aslan.”

Kleio turned to look at the distant mountain.

‘Those are the other options, huh? Even if they look fine now, one will turn on me someday, and the other is a villain. Huh.’

Arthur’s tone lowered as he seemed to interpret Kleio’s silence in some way.

“You seem to have already guessed, but Aslan is behind the assassins. He can’t go back and forth anymore. Neither of them will benefit the world if they’re blessed with the power of an arch-mage.”

Kleio once again focused on Arthur, pulled from his thoughts. Arthur regarded both Aslan and Melchior as dangerous.

‘Hmm, the crown prince in the newspaper seems to be a perfect person. Good-looking, competent, hardworking, and very popular.’

“I’m convinced about the second prince, but how are you sure of that? The crown prince has a good reputation, right? On what grounds can you say that?”

Arthur exhaled a short breath like he had been stabbed, and a silence fell over them. His hesitation was brief as Arthur quickly clenched his fist with determination.

“The basis is… No. I don’t think you’ll believe me, but I have no choice. I know what they will do.”

‘!!!’

“I only know the result without the cause; that is the essence of my curse.”

Unlike his usual self, Arthur slowly picked through his words as he spoke. It seemed like he had never thought of talking about his issue before.

“It’s also the reason why I was confined with my mother at the summer palace since before I could even write my own name. I know they’ll do some sinister things.”

It sounded like he couldn’t explain it, but Kleio had a guess.

‘The author wrote the same story eight times, so it goes back and forth.’

“I just know that too much unjust blood will flow by their hands.”

His sharp blue-green eyes stared straight at Kleio, whose Perception could pick up on the fierce energy welling inside them. The prince couldn’t back down; too many peoples’ hopes and beliefs were already on his shoulders. Kleio could find no words to refuse him. The will of this protagonist was too strong.

‘But it’s annoying, so stop looking at me like that.’

“Okay, I know. Whether I’m on your side or not, at least I won’t join the forces of the other princes.”

“Are you promising that?”

“…I promise.”

Promise flashed up with golden letters.

[-User’s narrative involvement has increased rapidly.]

He was expecting it would be like that, but he gave the item a nasty look when the notice appeared. With Perception fraying at his nerves, Kleio buried himself deeper into his armchair, exhausted.

“But why does the second prince hate you so much?”

He had wondered that point since reading the previous manuscript. Aslan had been vicious from childhood before Arthur could even walk. Arthur wasn’t the target of Aslan because of what he knew, but rather, because Aslan constantly pushed him, it seemed that Arthur was able to become a 4th level swordsman at the age of seventeen. It was certainly a strange act to be so brutal to the third prince.

‘It doesn’t fit. Again, the effect comes before the cause. Perhaps…’

“That’s right… Perhaps because I was born?”

Arthur’s answer gave Kleio some enlightenment. Aslan’s motive, which even Arthur couldn’t guess, was the purpose of his existence. It was the character’s fate to persecute the protagonist.

“Aslan has hated me since before I could remember. No, rather… he said that he learned to hate me when I was born.”

One of the royal maids, Hilleyda, had told Arthur that Aslan was a cheerful and friendly boy before Arthur had been born. Arthur muttered so bluntly, putting his chin in his clasped hands.

“The Aslan I know stares at me with eyes like the guard dog of hell. But it’s not my fault that I was born. My eyes and hair are the same color as Leonid; I resemble my mother a bit more. The damn Legend of the Conqueror, Aslan is spinning around that.”

Kleio quickly used Memory to look up the Legend of the Conqueror in the manuscript. It was the legend of King Leonid the First, the knight king who had hair like the sun and eyes like the sea, and a story about the nation of Albion.

“The Legend of the Conqueror, your brother’s a bit of a romantic…”

“His eyes are no good. With such romantic siblings, my life won’t last.”

‘Why is the word of the Conqueror already coming out? In the last manuscript, it didn’t come out until towards the end.’

Certainly, the elements of the story worked differently here.

“Anyway, after that, I thought I had to give him a reason to hate me. Well, it’s not like his name is written on the crown.”

The meaning of Arthur’s words was clear; he was declaring his pursuit of the throne.

“Now that the king is alive and there is a prince who’s well-versed, it’s like that. Are you not afraid of the sin of treason?”

“It’s only you and I, so who would tell? If you were going to report me, you would’ve done it earlier. I’ve already said this many times, but you didn’t do anything.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I was comfortable with it.”

“Think about it carefully. If you’re a young man with conviction, isn’t it worth deciding for yourself on a king that will fulfill your conviction?”

“I have no faith.”

“The future arch-mage is a difficult opponent. But if you want to succeed in your business, you must be with me. Know that I’m not going to give up.”

After saying everything he had to, Arthur left out the terrace door and jumped over the railing, vanishing. The thin linen curtains shook slowly, the only indication he had ever been there in the first place. Buried in his armchair, Kleio stared outside the terrace, feeling a similar ripple inside of himself.

‘Was it only Arthur who was affected by getting an ability to know the result without cause? Did being in the center of the narrative nine times affect the other princes as well?’

The characters lived through the author’s will, accepting or resisting their set fate. The characters inside it twisted the story, and he was the only person who could recognize and correct it. The power to exert authority equal to that of the author, if it didn’t contradict the author’s intentions…that was the significance of the Editor’s Authority.

‘If Aslan were denied the throne each time throughout the eight revisions, his accumulated grudge would be enormous. Could that be the reason he sent powerful assassins beyond the author’s intentions? Everyone here lives too hard.’

He would’ve liked to see how much ‘free will’ he had while living in the other world. He had lived because he was alive, passing each day struggling with what had happened around him. Kim Jungjin had no special goals or purposes in life to achieve. All he had was the memories of those who had died without warning. So, he had been drawn to the idea he could start a new life in a new world. Rather, this world might be better for him. Kleio Asel at least had the purpose given to him by the author.

If Arthur died and the world collapsed, in the worst case, he would perish. Even in the best case, he would only return to a world where he had nothing left except for student loans. Kleio had to ask himself if it would be okay if this second life were over. To return to a room that was cold in the winter and hot in the summer… Would he want to repeat waking up alone in that small house? He didn’t.

‘Even if it is all an illusion…I hope this place lasts.’

This place had Dione’s clear laughter, Behemoth’s gentle grunting when he woke up, and Mrs. Canton’s affectionate concern for him. He had two worlds: A real-world that didn’t need him and a make-believe world that desperately needed his presence to survive.

‘…I actually don’t understand the Matrix. Even if you take the blue pill, the steaks tasted like real ones. Why would anyone choose the red one?’