Demon King of the Royal Class - Chapter 217

Chapter 217

“Hmm. Is he asleep?”

Tap, tap.

“Urgh…”

“Reinhart. Wake up.”

Someone was waking me from the Sleep spell.

Since I had been forced into sleep, I was able to regain consciousness quickly.

“Uh… Oh. Vertus?”

It was Vertus who had woken me. Charlotte had visited me immediately after the incident, checking up on me and then leaving after she was satisfied that I was okay, but Vertus hadn’t shown up until now.

“Sorry for waking you, but I don’t have much free time.”

It was still night outside, which implied that it was still the same day. Although Vertus said he was sorry, his face didn’t show it at all.

He sat down in the chair opposite me, folding his arms.

“Do you have some kind of illness that requires you to regularly get into trouble like this?”

“Not exactly…”

I’d only picked the fight with the Orbis Class because of the achievement points on offer.

Of course, I was the one who had acted, so I couldn’t exactly blame anyone else. It seemed Vertus had meant to come check on me earlier but had been tied up with other matters. N/nêw n0vel chap/ers are published o/n n0v/e/(lb)i(n.)co/m

“This is about that business matter,” he said. “The approval has come through.”

“Oh… really?”

“I was going to leave it in your hands, but seeing your current state, you don’t seem fit to handle it. And with the disciplinary committee coming up, you won’t have time either, will you?”

“… Probably not.”

“So, should I assign it to the club, then?”

“That sounds good.”

My role was just to bring the project this far; the Rotary Club would handle the specifics from here on out. Even if I were in good shape, I didn’t have the skills required to manage the project on a daily basis. Securing the necessary investments and managing the other various details were never supposed to be my responsibilities.

Vertus’s help should be enough to ensure that the new Rotary Club business would proceed smoothly. Although we had to give up ten percent of the profits, it was manageable.

In fact, giving Vertus ten percent wasn’t a loss; it was actually a good thing.

Vertus having a ten percent stake in the business allowed us to give the impression that the imperial prince had a hand in it.

This would deter any random opportunists from trying to interfere in the business or jack up costs. If anyone messed with a business that Vertus was involved in, they risked ruining themselves.

Whether or not Vertus had known this when he’d asked for the ten percent cut, it was still a smart move.

Was Vertus only here to talk about the new business, though?

It didn’t seem like it; he hadn’t left yet.

“Did you have something else to discuss?”

“Nope,” Vertus said with a shrug, but he still didn’t leave.

‘I doubt he’s here to nurse me. That would be creepy.’

Vertus gave me an eerie smile. “You should be the one speaking.”

“… Oh.”

Vertus didn’t have anything to say to me; he was waiting for me to bring something up.

I knew what he was thinking about.

“Are you referring to that senior I confronted?” I asked.

He was asking if I wanted to know who the royal I had messed with—Oscar de Gradias—was.

“Are you not curious?” Vertus asked.

“Well, I feel like I should be… but not really.”

I was pretty sure I hadn’t seriously misstepped by ticking Oscar de Gradias off, a conclusion I came to after piecing together what he had said during the fight.

He did not have any influence on the battle for succession. The only ones who were vying for the throne were Vertus and Charlotte.

Other members of the royal family, while still royalty, were very far down the line of succession.

Those who were way down the line of succession still enjoyed great privilege, but lived lives of insecurity, since they could be made sacrificial pawns in any sudden coup or purge.

Of course, given the stability that the empire enjoyed at this moment, such things were highly unlikely.

Royals lived privileged lives, yet had fragile existences.

Oscar seemed to despise and detest this precarious breed of royalty, which meant that he was part of them.

I hadn’t asked Vertus about this because I already had a rough gauge of Oscar de Gradias’s position.

“It seems you’ve figured it out,” Vertus remarked. “There are those who would rather have been born beggars.”

Some royals envied the freedom of being born a street beggar.

Oscar de Gradias seemed to be one of those. Where did Oscar stand in the royal hierarchy? Both Vertus and Charlotte clicked their tongues at the mess I’d made, but neither had scolded me for messing with royalty.

“I’m fine with things, just as long as you understand that this could be made into a big issue—but it won’t be.”

“… Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m not going to do anything.”

If Vertus or Charlotte had decided to make an issue of me fighting a royal, something could happen. But they had no intention of doing so.

Doing nothing was already helping me.

Vertus might not know much about Oscar.

That guy was clearly coveting something beyond his reach. More accurately, he seemed to be both furious and despairing about being so far away from the throne.

Did Vertus and Charlotte not know that he harbored such ambitions?

If they found out, would he be killed?

In the end, there was nothing Oscar could do. Vertus could always act behind the scenes, where I wouldn’t be able to notice. I wouldn’t even know if Oscar eventually died.

Then again, Oscar was a troublesome guy, but I didn’t think he deserved to die.

That’s why I didn’t voice my thoughts about Oscar.

But then, Vertus opened his mouth. “Reinhart.”

“Yeah?”

“Is there really nothing more you have to say?”

“… What do you mean?”

Vertus seemed to expect me to tell him more, even though he didn’t have any more business with me.

“About my brother,” he said. “Do you have nothing more to say?”

“…”

Oscar, Vertus, and Charlotte—all of them…

The enigmatic types.

Vertus, the epitome of enigmatic types, kept smiling amicably as he spoke about Oscar.

He was asking if I had more to say after meeting with Oscar.

Essentially, he was implying that I had a duty to report to him anything I might have noticed.

However, just by not saying anything, I had already said a lot.

Oscar de Gradias seemed to harbor ambitions for the throne, which was beyond his standing. Was I supposed to tell Vertus that?

“You seem reckless, but oddly enough, you always avoid the most extreme outcomes. While you appear extreme, you really aren’t when it comes down to it,” Vertus said, standing with his arms crossed as he stared out the window. “You don’t seem to care about the consequences, but, in the end, you do.”

Whether Vertus was disappointed in me or not I couldn’t tell. He was probably surprised at my reluctance to divulge any thoughts I had that could endanger Oscar’s life, despite the beef I had with him that led to our fight.

“He just seems like he’s envious of things that other people are born with,” I said.

Since Vertus clearly knew about it, I could only tell him my impression of things. That Oscar seemed to want to become the emperor.

Vertus chuckled.

“Did you think that, if I knew, I’d do something to him?”

“… I just didn’t want to create unnecessary trouble. Well… sorry for keeping it from you,” I said, offering my sincere apology.

“I don’t think it’s something you need to apologize for…”

Vertus still had the same smile on his face.

“Reinhart, do you want to be emperor?” he asked.

“… What?”

‘What kind of nonsense is that?’

I froze, and Vertus repeated himself, as if it were nothing special.

“Do you want to be emperor?”

“… No? Not at all.”

“Why not?”

“… Well, it seems difficult. I think there’d be more headaches than good times, and I’m not good with that. I hate that kind of thing.”

I wasn’t just saying this because he was a prince—it was a genuine sentiment of mine. If given a choice between becoming a nouveau riche or an emperor, I’d choose to be a nouveau riche. Great power came with great responsibility, and I hated responsibility.

Since my arrival in this world, I’d had to take on so many responsibilities that my head constantly felt like it was about to explode. Emperor? I would never do it even if they’d offered it to me.

Vertus seemed to acknowledge my sincerity.

“Yeah, that’s understandable,” he said.

“Why are you asking that all of a sudden?” I asked.

‘It’s not like you’d make me emperor even if I said I wanted to be, so why scare me like that?’

Vertus answered with a question of his own. “But what if you, hypothetically, said you wanted to be emperor?”

“… What?”

“More specifically, if you stood before me and declared that you wanted to be emperor, what do you think I’d think?”

“… You’d think I’m crazy.”

“Exactly.” Vertus chuckled. There it was, that slight hint of him trying to look serious. Just seeing it gave me chills. “You can’t become emperor.”

It was an obvious statement, but there was a depth to it that I could sense.

I understood what Vertus was trying to say.

“It doesn’t matter what Oscar might be thinking; I don’t really care. I just think, ‘Why’s he being like that?’ And that’s it,” he said.

I couldn’t become emperor, and even the mere fact that I might want it would not make Vertus angry.

Oscar de Gradias couldn’t become emperor, and so the mere fact that he might have been coveting the throne did not make Vertus feel at all uncomfortable.

I remembered something that Vertus had said before.

Of all the ants he allowed to worship him, what difference did it make if that ant was a duke or an earl, a commoner or a beggar?

To him, everyone below him was the same.

Oscar de Gradias was an ant.

An ant dreaming of becoming emperor was just delusional.

Even if I had told him the truth, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

In hindsight, it seemed keeping my realizations to myself had only served to make things tense.

“It could be dangerous, though,” Vertus said, gazing out the window and paying no real attention to my concerns. “Some people, when they can’t have something, just want to destroy it.”

His words seemed very enigmatic.

In any case, it seemed I wouldn’t suffer any punishment for crossing someone with royal blood.

Of course, I still had to face consequences for breaking the Temple’s rules.

*

Had I known that forcing myself to perform Mana Reinforcement would result in this kind of aftermath, I would never have done it. The pain was one thing, but losing so much time was terrifying.

Was this the dread a gym rat felt, losing gains from not being able to go to the gym?

Not being able to exercise was driving me crazy, and the sheer amount of wasted time evaporating into thin air made me increasingly anxious. I needed to train. Time was passing, and the Gate Incident was drawing closer. Sitting around idly wasn’t an option.

Fortunately, I felt my body gradually recovering, and since my legs themselves weren’t injured, I could move around with crutches to some extent.

The pain had subsided enough that it was mostly bearable, so while I couldn’t train or exercise, I could at least attend classes.

“The disciplinary committee regarding the unauthorized duels between Orbis and Royal Classes is now in session.”

Of course, the first place I had to go wasn’t class, but the disciplinary committee hearing.

*

The events that the system gave were seriously messed up.

You could never tell when they would be triggered.

I mean, an event triggered when I fought Ard de Gritis, but I had now had two fights that did not trigger anything. At least I did manage to earn a thousand achievement points.

[New Event Update – Disciplinary Committee]

But why would an event trigger for something like this?

[Description: After numerous incidents, you have finally been brought before the disciplinary committee. The reward varies based on the severity of your discipline.]

[No Punishment – 0 points]

[Community Service – 10 points per day]

[Temporary Suspension – 20 points per day]

[Indefinite Suspension – 40 points per day]

[Expulsion – 5000 points]

What did I ever do to deserve this?

Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Why did I get more rewards for harsher punishments?

Was the system telling me to get expelled by causing a ruckus? Even setting aside the cross-dressing and the beauty pageant, it seemed to want to turn me into a weirdo.

‘It might have made sense at the beginning of the semester, but I’ve come too far to get expelled now!’

*

The disciplinary committee wasn’t held in the Royal or Orbis Class buildings, but in the main headquarters of the Temple.

Every school within the Temple had a principal and executive-level faculty, and this compound housed those who oversaw the Temple as a whole. Their authority far surpassed that of regular teachers, and most of them were not involved in the actual provision of education.

In the original story, Ludwig had reason to come here just once.

After he became the master of Alsbringer, there was an extensive debate as to whether such a thing could be allowed.

A lengthy discussion about whether Ludwig was fit to be acknowledged as the rightful master of Alsbringer ensued, and eventually, the authorities had no choice but to recognize Ludwig as its master.

He was not summoned for disciplinary reasons, like me.

In other words, while they may not be key characters, these faculty members were crucial to the operation of the Temple as a whole. This was where important decisions about the institution were made.

On either side of me sat Lilka Aaron and Oscar de Gradias.

Oscar had suffered what could be interpreted as a defeat at my hands.

As such, his expression was far from pleasant.

Lilka Aaron, whose demeanor was generally cold, was not looking at me either.

She appeared uncomfortable and frowned frequently.

‘Is she in pain? She should have recovered from what I’d done to her by now. Or maybe she’s just in a bad mood.’

On the right side of the long round table were the Royal Class teachers, and on the left were presumably the Orbis Class teachers. Opposite us were three faculty members from the main headquarters.

The animosity between Orbis and Royal Classes was not just confined to the students; it was immediately evident in the teachers’ demeanors as well.

None of the Royal Class teachers, including Mr. Effenhauser and Ms. Mustang from Class B, did not display any overt emotions. Ms. Mustang, the Class B homeroom teacher, merely glanced at me to see if I was alright.

However, there was clear hostility emanating from the Orbis Class teachers.

‘Even the teachers had inferiority complexes… This is nuts.’

Then there were the faculty who were from the main headquarters.

In front of one elderly-looking person was a nameplate reading “Vice-Chancellor of the Temple, Assyria Wolken.”

The Vice-Chancellor was essentially the second-highest ranking person among all the Temple staff.

Given that the subject of this hearing was a violent incident between Orbis and Royal Classes, which were the most specially-managed classes in the Temple, it made sense that the Vice-Chancellor would preside over it.

The Vice-Chancellor was the number two in one of the empire’s most critical institutions, and was likely more powerful even than a great noble.

If this were an internal issue, it would have been resolved within the class, but this involved a clash between classes.

Even the disciplinary procedures were grand when it came to these two special classes.

The elderly Vice-Chancellor, Assyria Wolken, began to speak.

“The details of the incident have been reported, so I will summarize.”

Since the teachers had already investigated each of our positions and reasons regarding the incidents, she didn’t intend to drag this out.

She read from the documents in front of her.

“First, Orbis Class Year 1 A-5, Lilka Aaron.

“This student has repeatedly subjected Royal Class Year 1 A-9, Erhi de Raffaeli, to continuous violence during and outside the Swordsmanship class. In retaliation, Royal Class Year 1 A-11, Reinhart, sought out the Orbis Class and engaged in an unauthorized duel with Lilka Aaron, resulting in her defeat. The duel resulted in injuries akin to internal organ rupture.”

Internal organ rupture…

Though she survived thanks to the timely intervention of the priest who had been on duty, I had hit her with enough force to knock her out cold.

I had assumed she would survive without major issues, but hearing the term “internal organ rupture” sent a chill down my spine.

“Next, Royal Class Year 1 A-11, Reinhart.

“This student decided to personally intervene in order to address the continuous violence against Erhi de Raffaeli instead of reporting it to a teacher. He visited the Orbis Class dormitory to administer private retribution. In the process, he received cooperation from Orbis Class Year 4 A-1, Oscar de Gradias, to engage in unauthorized duels.

“After injuring Lilka Aaron, he then challenged Oscar de Gradias to a duel. Despite collapsing due to the overuse of Mana Reinforcement, he used supernatural powers on all his opponents, and that is the primary focus of this entire incident.”

The primary focus of the entire incident.

‘Am I really not going to get expelled?’

“Next, Orbis Class Year 4 A-1, Oscar de Gradias.

“This student allowed private duels among students and acted as the organizer without informing any teachers. Though he promptly allowed Lilka Aaron’s injuries to be treated, he also engaged in a duel with a student several years below his own grade. His role as a senior was to ensure safety during the duels, yet he recklessly participated in one himself and even used Mana Reinforcement.”

Oscar de Gradias had stirred up significant issues as well.

Using supernatural powers in duels was a serious problem, but using Mana Reinforcement could be an even bigger one.

The Vice-Chancellor paused, examining all of us before continuing.

“This disciplinary committee will address each of these violations and determine appropriate consequences based on the severity of the actions and the impact on the inter-class relations between Orbis and Royal Classes.”

We could all feel the weight of the situation. The teachers from both classes watched us intently, waiting for the decisions that would follow.

The entire atmosphere was heavy and filled with tension.

The fact that a senior had given in to the provocation of a junior and escalated the fight added to the seriousness of the offense.

Lilka Aaron’s offenses were the least significant even though she was the root cause of the incident, and had accepted the challenge and lost.

The most severe offense had probably been committed by Oscar de Gradias, or myself for directly confronting the Orbis Class, but it wasn’t clear who had committed the greater offense between us.

“Does anyone object to this summary?”

“No, we do not.”

None of us had anything to add or subtract from that summary. It was a factual account.

I had been told that I wouldn’t be expelled, so I just wanted the disciplinary process to end as quickly as possible.

My body still ached all over, and I wanted to lie down and sleep.

I planned not to say anything during the proceedings.

Before this, Mr. Effenhauser had advised me and said, “Knowing your personality, staying silent would help.” Clearly, given my temper, I’d undoubtedly make things worse if I spoke.

I had no argument against that.

Any gibbering from the culprit would indeed only serve to dig a deeper hole, and given my nature, there was no way I’d say anything helpful.

My plan was to keep my mouth shut.

“Let’s now discuss the appropriate level of punishment for each case.”

Almost immediately, an Orbis Class teacher raised his hand.

“I am Jaiden, the homeroom teacher for Orbis Class 1-A. I believe the most serious offender, Reinhart of the Royal Class, should be expelled.”

‘Well, isn’t this turning out to be lovely from the start?’