“Hurry and call for me, this is no place to be. Sob, sob, sob, sob!”

What should I call you?

“Call me Lee Seongjin. Sniffle, sniffle.”

Seongjin opened his eyes to the sound of someone’s bitter weeping.

What was that? Was I dreaming?

His mind slowly returns to reality. It’s another typical morning in Pearl Palace.

Rubbing his tired eyes, he rises from his bed. Although he slept through the night, utterly exhausted, the complexity of his thoughts left him feeling not the slightest bit refreshed.

On a normal day, he would stretch and hurry to the training grounds, but today, he simply wasn’t in the mood. Seongjin sat blankly on the bed, recalling yesterday’s events.

“Don’t worry. We’re on the side of Father Emperor, and Morres,” Herna and Gades reassured Seongjin, who glared at them from across the carriage, his nerves on edge after the puppet show.

“We just want to help with what we know.”

“Al Fahas. What the hell is that? Is that the Demon King’s name?”

Seongjin asked about what puzzled him most. The moment he heard that name, he felt inexplicably unsettled, his stomach churning.

However, the twins shook their heads.

“It’s a different name. Calling him by the wrong name denies the real one.”

“It’s a trivial and vile attack, worse than slapping his face for ages.”

When a look of genuine indignation crossed the twins’ faces, Seongjin averted his gaze, feeling strangely guilty.

But it was odd. No matter how much he repeated ‘Al Fahas’ now, he didn’t feel the same shock as before. When he asked, Herna and Gades nodded as if it were obvious and briefly explained the puppeteer’s deed to Seongjin.

That despicable one staged the ‘boring’ puppet show to create something called a ‘defamation barrier.’

The ‘wicked’ puppeteer created an ‘utterly trivial’ defamation with unclear boundaries and tried to superimpose it onto the real Demon King and the world. Due to that ‘preposterous’ act, the damage inflicted on the Demon King partially affected Seongjin as well.

He wasn’t quite sure what they meant.

When he asked why the puppeteer would do such a thing, they said it was because that ‘foul’ fellow was an ‘exceptionally evil’ one threatening the world’s well-being.

More like, you two just really hate that puppeteer guy, don’t you?

“It’s the name that binds someone to this world, Morres.”

“If your name keeps being denied, you eventually lose your footing in the world, Morres.”

In any case, one thing became clear.

These twins knew about Gehenna’s Demon King and seemed to grasp that he had some connection to Seongjin. Perhaps it wasn’t too far-fetched to suspect they even knew Seongjin’s true identity.

Moreover, for whatever reason, these children appeared to be trying to help the missing Demon King.

If so…

“Do you know the Demon King’s real name?”

Though he held some hope, the twins disappointingly answered with gloomy faces.

“Even Emperor Daddy, probably doesn’t know that.”

“What Daddy His Majesty, doesn’t know, we don’t know either.”

In the end, these twins were all about the Holy Emperor.

“What His Majesty doesn’t know, the twins don’t know either. Then what the twins know, His Majesty must know too…”

As Seongjin absently muttered to himself, staring into space, a knocking sound interrupted his thoughts.

“Prince Morres, are you awake?”

As always, Edith enters, placing a water jug and cloth on the table. She then pulls back the curtains to ventilate the room and informs Seongjin.

“A message from Sir Masain. This morning, there are matters he must look into, so he requests that Your Highness meditate alone and review your swordsmanship.”

The image of Sir Masain leaving Pearl Palace last night with an incredibly perplexed face comes to mind.

Learning that the prince he serves is suddenly associated with various heretical groups must have compelled him to verify the facts as swiftly as possible.

The Golden Truth Society.

The Adelheit Pestilence Society.

The Blue Republican Revolutionary Front.

What was the original Morres thinking when he sponsored such organizations?

‘Well, there’s not much point in me pondering it now…’

If Sir Masain uncovers anything, he’ll surely explain it himself. For some reason, Seongjin got the impression that Masain was going to great lengths for his sake.

At the very least, if Morres had done something wrong, Masain seemed like the type to strive to rectify it rather than shift the blame, judging by his personality.

Seongjin decided to set aside the various suspicions for now and focus on training. It was the only thing he could do at the moment.

His Majesty had also told him to train. If any issues arose, wouldn’t that man step in to help?

He had a hunch His Majesty knew at least some of the story.

Come to think of it, once this closed-door prayer whatchamacallit was over, he should have an open, honest conversation with His Majesty.

***

Even without Sir Masain’s presence, the resident knights of Pearl Palace, once disciplined, remained unchanged.

The moment Seongjin entered the training grounds, they promptly aligned themselves and greeted him in unison with a resounding voice.

“Greetings to the Third Prince!”

“Ah, well done, everyone.”

It felt a bit awkward, considering their previously silent rivalry. Seongjin smiled sheepishly and headed to the corner of the training grounds.

Perhaps he should start the day with a clean slate through meditation.

Before beginning his meditation, he habitually checks the rippling aura within his chest. Doing so always seemed to calm his mind.

Slowly breathing, he begins tracing the flow of aura. The subtle currents seeping into his body with each inhalation, drawn to gather at his core.

The circulation of aura orbiting the core, following its trajectory before dispersing throughout his body once more.

And like when he absorbed the demonic creature’s energy before, he tried to evenly spread the aura to his bones, muscle fibers, and even his skin.

Masain had told him not to forcefully twist the flow of aura. Of course, that didn’t mean letting the aura flow freely as it pleased.

He instructed Seongjin to gently guide its direction without going against the flow, leading it to the core. And when drawing out the aura from the core, to let it flow from the center to the periphery like water, without hindering its natural course.

It was about channeling from where it was abundant to where it was needed.

When absorbing the demonic creature’s energy before, Seongjin hadn’t struggled to move the energy flow itself. He had simply clearly recognized what to strengthen with it and where that flow needed to be.

Perhaps manipulating aura was similar. Was there a need to forcibly twist the flowing water?

What he needed was to draw that flow to where it was lacking. To do so, he had to accurately recognize the desired destination. To yearn for it more earnestly from the absence of aura. To concretize that yearning into a clear, singular image.

Wasn’t that the meaning of aura going where the mind goes?

His Majesty’s words also had something to learn from, Seongjin thought.

Above all, the sensation of controlling the vast flow of aura that His Majesty had let him experience not long ago was still vivid in Seongjin’s memory. Recalling that refreshing current, he strived to gather the dispersed energy and draw it back to his core.

Before he knew it, a gentle breeze was stirring around Seongjin, but he remained unaware. A few knights who had been training were now watching him with astonished eyes.

Round and round. It was fascinating to see the gathered aura easily form a circular orbit. Without having to forcefully press and condense it, the swirling currents naturally converged at the critical angle, eventually forming layers.

One, then another.

A smile unknowingly played on Seongjin’s lips as he sat with his eyes closed.

“I’ve seen something like that before. Back when Lord Balthazar was meditating…”

A knight who had been blankly observing muttered abruptly. It was Maria, a senior knight who had requested a dispatch from the 1st Imperial Guard to earn some drinking money.

The resident knights in the training grounds had all stopped their practice at some point and were now huddled together, watching Seongjin. Haven, a junior knight sitting at the end of the row, pouted.

“No matter what, how can you compare a beginner to Lord Balthazar?”

“Then have you ever seen something like that? Aura flow materializing in such a way?”

At a loss for words, Haven rolled his eyes and reluctantly replied.

“Um… the aura storm caused by His Majesty not long ago?”

He immediately received astonished glares from all the knights and shrank back.

Comparing him to the Holy Emperor, of all people.

“A genius…”

A sigh-like utterance escaped someone’s mouth, and all the knights fell silent.

A genius.

Although no one had spoken it aloud until now, it was something everyone had thought of at least once while watching the Third Prince train with Sir Masain over the past few days.

The swiftly mastered body movements regardless of the technique learned, the persistence to swing the sword until corrected when pointed out, the instantaneous immersion in a state of selflessness, unknowingly riding the instinctive rhythm of the blade’s dance.

And the aura around his body, rapidly activating since the moment he sensed it.

They could no longer associate the image of the previously lazy and dull pig scoundrel with the Third Prince.

Why did he act like such a hopeless case until now, possessing such genius talent?

“Damn it!”

A young knight sitting in the very back cursed and abruptly stood up, leaving the place. He had a long, torn scar on one side of his forehead.

Haven was startled and tried to stop him, but Sir Kurth shook his head, holding him back.

“Let him be. He must have a lot on his mind too.”

“But…”

“Wouldn’t it feel somewhat futile? He’s probably wondering why the captain had to leave the knight order in such a way when this was the eventual outcome.”

“…”

The remaining resident knights silently resumed watching Seongjin and the wind enveloping him.

Endlessly, ceaselessly.

‘Jumping straight to the 5th layer might be a bit much…’

After who knows how long, Seongjin sighed and opened his eyes.

He considered meditating a bit more while at it, but the tremendously amplified repulsive force didn’t seem like it would be easily offset.

It would probably take quite some time to form the next layer. As Masain said, these were things to be done slowly over time.

Besides, he was starting to feel like swinging a wooden sword too.

Just as he was about to get up with that thought in mind, Seongjin was startled and plopped back down.

An angel had somehow appeared before his eyes, crouching and staring intently at him.

“Sister?”

Amelia was lovely as always. The light pink dress and red ribbon tying up her braided hair gave her a pure yet charming appearance. Sitting in front of Seongjin with her knees bent, she quietly rested her chin on her hands and gazed at him.

“When did you get here? What are you doing?”

“Oh, I came to see if you wanted to have lunch together and ended up watching you meditate. I don’t know what it is, but it looks impressive.”

Ah, is that so? Seongjin glanced around, breaking out in a cold sweat.

He saw the resident knights training with stiff, tense movements on one side of the training grounds. How long had they been doing that?

Oblivious to Seongjin’s flustered state of mind, she spoke in a serene voice, as if murmuring to herself.

“So this is how you’re becoming so strong through training.”

“…?”

Amelia’s clear gray eyes grow distant once more.

She often had those eyes when looking at Seongjin. As if gazing far away or recalling old memories.

“You’re truly a remarkable child, Morres.”

Seongjin dusted himself off as he stood up, letting out a hollow laugh.

“What’s so remarkable? I’ve only just begun what you could call proper cultivation. I still have a long way to go before doing it right.”

“No, even to me who knows little, you’re extraordinary like this.”

Amelia, grasping Seongjin’s outstretched hand and standing up, emphasized once more with a voice full of unfounded confidence.

“Believe me, Morres. You’ll become incredibly strong in the future.”

Well, I’m not sure why you’re so certain, but thank you for believing in me, Sister.

“And you’ll probably become a dashing young knight who looks great in black armor.”

Black armor, all of a sudden?

“The perfect image for the Demon of the Front Lines, don’t you think? Ruthless and merciless.”

No, but calling a Holy Empire prince a demon is a bit…

“The Black Demon of Delkros, whose mere sight will make enemies tremble in fear. Isn’t it awesome?”

…Oh.

This sister, despite her fairytale-like appearance, unexpectedly seemed to have a chuunibyo sensibility.