Chapter 605: The Red Book (1)
Edward X.
He was the Crown Prince of the United Kingdom, perhaps the most famous person in the entire kingdom.
However, this wasn’t merely because he was the crown prince.
The true reason for his fame was that even before he assumed his title, he had been the royal family’s “issue maker.”
With a sharp tongue, he once referred to royalty on the other side of the globe as "high-class monkeys," punched reporters who asked unpleasant questions, and possessed an “open-mindedness” to share a bed with married women—regardless of their husbands. He even had the decisiveness to escape naked when caught by an angry husband. It seemed he attracted some sort of incident or scandal daily.
As a result, although the public didn’t particularly favor the royal family, gossip-hungry newspapers and radio channels in Landa published weekly reports on Edward X without needing any royal encouragement. Even the average Landa citizen, generally indifferent to the royal family, was somewhat familiar with Edward X.
The interesting part was that Edward X’s popularity was surprisingly high. So much so, in fact, that he even had the nickname “The Beloved.”
Naturally, Landa's gossip-driven media analyzed this popularity, and a female scholar with a university education offered the most plausible reason.
"Well, isn’t he handsome?"
It was an outrageous yet oddly convincing answer.
Oliver could confirm this truth with his own eyes from across the ocean.
"Ah! So, you're Dave, are you?"
In the corridors of the Hall of Deputies, where Armand the Archpriest was located, Oliver encountered a stunningly handsome man heading toward him, who extended his hand and greeted him first.
The situation was so unexpected that Oliver wasn’t sure how to react.
Meeting the Crown Prince, whom he hadn’t even encountered back in Landa, here across the ocean—naturally, that would be a startling encounter.
However, seemingly displeased with Oliver’s reaction, the Crown Prince’s dignified royal secretary gave him a warning look.
"How dare you be so rude? His Highness is greeting you."
"Hey, no need for that."
Edward X, the royal family’s “issue maker,” chided his secretary amiably and then apologized to Oliver.
“Let me apologize on his behalf. My secretary is just too fond of me, that’s all. I must have startled you by greeting you so suddenly.”
"No, Your Highness. Please excuse me instead."
Having regained his composure, Oliver apologized and greeted the prince with proper courtesy.
“No need to apologize. Straighten up, will you?”
Edward placed a friendly hand on Oliver’s shoulder as though they were old friends, despite it being their first meeting.
“In any case, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve wanted to see you in person, and here we are.”
“Do you know who I am?”
"Of course! You’re the most famous fixer in Landa right now, aren’t you? I have quite an interest in those kinds of rumors."
Edward lowered his voice, covering his mouth with one hand as if confiding a secret.
"The faint smell of blood and gunpowder spreading through the dark back alleys—it’s quite the romance, don’t you think? And besides, you even helped my younger brother.”
Edward shrugged, and Oliver immediately understood whom he was referring to.
Edward’s younger brother, of course, would be Albert, the second in line to the throne. Coincidentally, Oliver had met him once on the New World continent as well.
“He told me a lot about you. Said you’re quite impressive. So do you know what I told him?”
“I wouldn’t know, Your Highness.”
“I told him that fixers are madmen and that black magicians are even crazier, so he should stop talking nonsense. But, it seems I might have been wrong. You don’t look bad to me.”
“Thank you for the compliment?”
“Hah! You even have a sense of humor—unlike the rumors.”
Oliver nodded, realizing he indeed had a sense of humor.
“I was disappointed that you turned down my brother’s recruitment offer, but now, I regret it even more.”
“I apologize.”
"No, no. That's not what I'm getting at. I understand. Honestly, if it were me, I’d probably make the same decision. After all, you’re doing well in the Free City, so there’s no need to be tied down to the stifling royal family, right?”
“It’s not quite like that, Your Highness.”
“Oh, come on… don’t be modest. You’re here to meet someone as important as Armand. If that doesn’t say success, what does?”
Edward, who had been chatting in a carefree manner, suddenly sparkled with an insightful look, as if he’d seen right through why Oliver had come here.
“No need to look so surprised. I already told you—I like back-alley rumors. Naturally, I’d know that Landa’s most notorious black magician is here to work alongside a holy knight to hunt down other black magicians. It’s public knowledge by now, too. Did my keen deduction impress you?”
Edward asked playfully, and after a moment of consideration, Oliver shook his head.
“...No, not particularly, Your Highness.”
“This answer is unexpected… Now I feel offended.”
“I meant that I’m not surprised because I’ve read about Your Highness’s intelligence in the newspapers.”
Surprisingly, this was partially true.
Edward was indeed the royal family’s issue maker, known for stirring up trouble, but recently, he’d also made impressive strides.
Edward had boosted support for the royal family by visiting local regions, reinforced the dwindling nobility with strategic support, and even went as far as visiting Greenland to improve relations between the druids and the royal family.
It was hard to believe that he was the same prince who had once been caught escaping naked after an affair with a married woman. Yet, these actions were precisely why Edward X’s popularity had recently surged. A troublemaker is all the more beloved when they occasionally do something admirable.
It got to the point where, even with Queen Victoria’s health rumored to be declining—the living symbol of the United Kingdom—people weren’t too concerned.
They simply believed the once-wild crown prince had matured and was becoming a new hope for the kingdom.
The kingdom’s new hope spoke.
“Oh… the hottest guy from the back alleys has such a good opinion of me? That makes me happy. Are you just flattering me?”
“It’s no flattery, but a sincere opinion. Even the newspapers commend Your Highness for being anything but ordinary, and in my view, you are indeed extraordinary.”
This was also sincere. The reason being, Oliver couldn’t read Edward’s emotions.
Although he had no knowledge of magic, black magic, or significant magical artifacts, Oliver could not discern Edward’s emotions.
The likely explanation was that he was a demon worshiper.
“Khahaha! This is refreshing! You’re flattering me well. How about it—would you join me for a drink? I happen to be in need of a drinking buddy. Just between us, I can’t stand the frog-like people around here. Their smiles are utterly frog-like.”
Despite his neat attire, Edward’s offer came with a coarse manner of speaking and a skilled, friendly gesture.
Unable to gauge his emotions, Oliver couldn’t tell if he was being genuine, hiding something, or acting without ulterior motives.
But it didn’t matter; his answer was already decided either way.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I have a prior commitment.”
“How dare you—”
The royal secretary tried to interrupt angrily, but Edward X raised a hand to stop him.
“Well, I can’t help that, can I? Cutting in line is bad manners, after all. Instead, could I ask you for a favor? You’re a Tower of Magic employee, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“A few months from now, the royal family plans to host a magic exposition. You should come, too.”
“Understood, Your Highness.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes.”
“Refreshing. I like it. Now I want to have a drink with you even more.”
“I apologize.”
“Just joking. But, since I’d like to get to know you better, let me offer you some advice before you leave.”
Edward’s gaze sparkled, just as it had when he correctly guessed the purpose of Oliver’s visit. Oliver nodded in response.
“Don’t trust the Pater Church too much.”
Edward warned Oliver against trusting the Pater Church, despite standing inside their Hall of Deputies.
It wasn’t particularly surprising. Earlier, when he mentioned Armand the Archpriest, Edward hadn’t bothered with any honorifics, simply calling him “Armand.” However, Oliver was still curious about his reasons.
“It’s nothing big. It’s just that they’re all frauds. Can’t expect someone to trust a fraud, can you?”
“Frauds?”
“Yeah. And to prove it, how about I share an interesting secret?”
Edward spoke in a casually lighthearted tone, though the subject matter was anything but.
“The holy laws that these holy knights claim come from the gods? Complete hogwash. They weren’t given by any god. The gods never gave us a thing.”
Oliver remained silent, having already heard this story before from “The Burnt One.” What surprised him was how Edward knew about it.
“You don’t seem too shocked.”
“I am, truly… Then, do you know who granted the power of the holy laws, Your Highness?”
Edward grinned.
“You’ll have to come to the exposition to find out. It wouldn’t be any fun if I told you too soon, would it?”
With that, Edward left with a cryptic smile, leaving Oliver to continue his path down the corridor, his footsteps echoing as he approached Armand’s office.
…
“Impressive progress.”
After his unexpected encounter with the Crown Prince of the United Kingdom, Oliver reached the Archpriest’s office in the Hall of Deputies.
In truth, as the Chancellor of Gallos, Armand shouldn’t have been present at this hour. However, his position and influence as Archpriest allowed him such flexibility.
“I had high expectations, but I didn’t think you’d manage to unify the black magicians so swiftly.”
“I was fortunate.”
Oliver replied in his usual ambiguous tone that could imply either arrogance or humility.
But, it wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Luck had indeed been on his side.
Oliver’s swift unification of the black magicians was due largely to his reputation, which had grown so prominent that some had even started calling him a “new finger.” This reputation allowed him to minimize unnecessary conflicts.
Though the holy knights held overwhelming power and were natural adversaries to black magicians, they hadn’t succeeded in subduing the masses of black magicians because they failed to avoid unnecessary clashes.
Of course, this wasn’t due to incompetence but rather an issue of inherent traits.
To black magicians, holy knights were natural enemies. As a result, the black magicians had fled desperately whenever the holy knights moved, or, when cornered, had fought to the death, wasting the holy knights' time and resources.
To the black magicians, encountering a holy knight was as good as being dead already.
However, as a fellow black magician, Oliver had a choice that the holy knights did not—dialogue. This allowed him to conserve both manpower and time.
Many of the weaker black magicians who were hesitant to resist had willingly surrendered, proving this point.
Of course, some did try to run or put up a fight, but it wasn’t a major issue.
Their numbers were few, and with just a bit of pressure, they scattered, causing their forces to break apart on their own.
If it had been holy knights they were facing, they likely would have banded together, but faced with Oliver—a far stronger black magician—most gave up on fleeing and crumbled on their own. For those who did put up a fight, subduing them was simple enough.
Though the story ran a bit long, the main takeaway was that Armand’s idea of using a black magician to control other black magicians had proven effective.
This was also good news for Oliver. With the backing of the Pater Church, he now had grounds to bring black magic into the light.
In other words, Marie’s “Chosen Ones” and Joe’s “Fighter Crew” could also be officially recognized, much like the Tower of Magic’s wizards.
“When will black magic be officially recognized?”
“First, it has to be discussed. I’ll be visiting the Order next week, and that’s when I’ll bring up the issue.”
Armand made no comments about trust or reassurance, and Oliver didn’t ask. He could see that Armand was genuine.
This was someone who could understand why the lower class might choose to learn black magic over working sixteen-hour days. Could it be that Edward had come because of this?
“Is there something you’d like to say?”
Armand asked as if reading Oliver’s mind.
“In fact, yes, Your Grace. On my way here, I encountered Edward, the Crown Prince of the United Kingdom. Would you know why he came here?”
“I’m curious myself as to why.”
A surprising response, but Armand was sincere.
He said that although Edward had secretly come to visit him, he’d only exchanged some idle chatter with him before leaving.
“He does have a habit of acting frivolously, so it’s not unusual. But why do you ask? Did he say something?”
Armand probed sharply.
After a brief hesitation, Oliver shook his head. It wasn’t something he could confess to—a royal prince was a demon worshiper who had openly called the Pater Church frauds.
“It’s just that he was very friendly toward me, so I wondered if Your Grace had perhaps spoken to him about me.”
“Could be that it’s because you’re from Landa.”
“From Landa?”
“Yes, the royal family, especially Prince Edward, has a keen interest in Landa.”
“Is that so?”
Oliver wasn’t particularly surprised, as he’d heard similar rumors back in Landa.
“Yes. Originally, seventy percent of Landa’s land was owned by the royal family.”
This was news to Oliver.
“And there’s a desire to reclaim that land.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, considering Landa’s real estate prices, do I really need to explain?”
Oliver remained silent. Landa was a massive metropolis, practically composed of twenty-six smaller cities clustered together, and yet, property prices were still exorbitant.
This was due to the inability to expand beyond the designated city boundaries.
Naturally, with such a colossal city’s property value, seventy percent of the land would amount to an astronomical sum.
Still, Oliver doubted that the interest was purely financial.
As he thought of Edward, a few words came to mind.
“‘Don’t trust the Pater Church… because they’re frauds… the holy power they claim comes from the gods is all nonsense. No god gave them anything.’”
“Your Grace, may I ask one more question?”
“Just one.”
“Why are you researching how to imbue firearms and restraints with holy law?”
Oliver asked about what he had learned while subduing black magicians in Gallos.
The Gatling gun that Armand had demonstrated, imbued with the power of holy law, wasn’t developed by the Pater Church but was Armand’s independent research.
It was somewhat similar to an artifact but slightly different, in Oliver’s view.
Holy law, which could typically only be wielded by holy knights, was essentially being made accessible to everyone.
It might seem trivial, but it was actually monumental.
Holy law was the defining power of a holy knight, akin to the magic of wizards, black magic of black magicians, and shamanism of druids.
Yet Armand’s research had the potential to undermine its exclusivity.
More than just knowing who granted holy law, Oliver was curious why Armand pursued this research, which could weaken the Pater Church’s influence.
Armand’s answer was straightforward.
“Because I believe it’s for the best.”
“Pardon?”
“After dealing with this black magician issue, I realized that relying solely on the holy knights is both risky and fragile. So, I decided to research imbuing weapons with holy law. Since the number of holy knights is limited, why not make divine blessings available to all? Holy law exists to protect humanity, after all; surely the gods would be pleased.”
Armand was utterly sincere. It was, frankly, surprising—not the concept itself, but the depth of his conviction.
Armand believed in and revered the gods, yet he prioritized people over them. He was a new type of holy knight and clergyman, admirable in several ways.
“You’ll likely need to ponder such things soon yourself.”
Armand looked intently at Oliver.
“You turned down my proposal initially, but you accepted it once you had a purpose strong enough to overcome both inconvenience and fear.”
Armand’s perception cut through sharply, even though Oliver hadn’t explained anything.
“A purpose is good to have, but the direction and methods will vary greatly. So think deeply. Where you end up will depend on the path and choices you make along the way.”
He was right.
Oliver had accepted this role to become a “good person.”
To him, being a good person meant helping those around him, which was why he wanted to bring black magic into the open, establish a school within the Tower of Magic, and gain tax exemptions to reinvest in creating jobs for those around him.
And for those jobs, he would need to establish a business—something beyond the current redevelopment projects.
Fortunately, Oliver already had various ideas for potential business ventures. The problem was that he had no experience with operating them.
It couldn’t be helped; Oliver had never run a business before and had little interest in doing so.
At first, he’d considered creating a work environment similar to Child’s, but watching Child work, he felt that it wasn’t quite right.
After all, Child seemed to be constantly muttering, “Damn it,” every day.
So, Oliver returned to Landa and held serious discussions. In response, Childs raised their scythes, hammers, and red books and shouted.
“It’s a revolution! Revolution!”