The Grand Duke of the North.
Very little was known about him.
It was because of the geographical location of the North.
The edge of the continent.
More precisely, the boundary that separated the barbarians from the Empire.
An ordinary imperial citizen would rarely have reason to go there or even think about it.
It barely appeared in imperial newspapers—how could it not be obscure?
All that was commonly known was that snow fell and piled up every single day, a harsh land unfit for human life.
Few people paid any attention to it at all.
Professor Moriarty, who had ties to the North, was a rare exception.
It’s been a long time since I last contacted him like this…
The reason Moriarty was connected to the Grand Duke of the North:
his late wife had been born in the North.
They say everyone in the North is one family.
Of course, ordinary citizens never hear that saying.
She had been a former general.
Living in such a brutal place made childbirth difficult, yet by heavenly luck she bore a child.
She died from the aftermath.
The Grand Duke of the North personally sent condolences to Professor Moriarty over her death.
Moriarty responded to those condolences, and they exchanged letters regularly, keeping in touch.
This continued until the moment Moriarty lost his own child in an accident.
The Grand Duke had wanted to rush over in person to speak with him.
Because both were fathers, they could understand each other’s pain.
But he could not come.
Reality prevented it.
The responsibility and duties that came with the title “Grand Duke of the North” were immense, and his own duties as a father were just as heavy.
His own child was also in poor health.
The exact cause was unknown, but seizures were frequent.
Because of that, the Grand Duke remained in the North and sent only letters.
Most of them were attempts to dissuade the professor from the path he was taking.
I share the grief of losing a child.
Yet the road you now walk… is not the right one.
He never simply said “you are wrong.”
He rationally explained why it should not be done and what price would follow.
But after one final letter, Moriarty stopped replying.
I will walk my own path.
Even after that, the Grand Duke continued sending letters steadily.
How regrettable, Professor…
There are still many chances to turn back.
Please do not make a choice you would be ashamed to show your child.
Letters like these had piled up high.
Professor Moriarty looked at them for a moment, then raised his hand.
Fwoooosh!
All the letters burned away.
It was for the Grand Duke’s sake.
If evidence remained that a mere professor—no, now a criminal—had regularly corresponded with him, it could cause trouble.
Of course, someone would accuse him anyway.
Of having regular contact with the Grand Duke of the North.
But it didn’t matter.
Accusations without proof were meaningless.
Professor Moriarty wrote his letter.
With his magical skill, sending one letter in secret was easy.
He had to repay even a small part of the favor.
It has been a long time, Grand Duke of the North. This is Moriarty.
I have only now realized how great a mistake and foolish choice I have made.
You tried to stop me many times. My ears and eyes were closed; I could not listen. It was my fault.
As apology for all this time… please use the items I have entrusted to you as you see fit. I hope it serves as sufficient repayment.
May this person be of help to you.
Since I may be unable to pay the price myself, let the items I temporarily entrusted serve as payment.
Professor Moriarty gazed at the letter for a moment, folded it neatly, then snapped his fingers.
It turned into a bird and flew off.
Its destination: the North.
He had imbued it with permanent mana, so the spell would not break even if Moriarty himself died.
And… I should hand over all my magic books as well.
He began gathering the magic tomes from his bookshelf one by one.
Regardless of Evan’s grand schemes or brilliant mind, it was true that he lacked magical knowledge.
House Alkart was not a family deeply connected to magic.
That was why Moriarty decided to donate them.
Now that he had no reputation left to lose, this was the only thing he could still do.
Flutter—
The magic tomes fluttered their pages like butterflies.
One by one, letters seeped into a single grimoire.
A binding spell.
A magic that compressed the knowledge of many grimoires into one—rarely used because it permanently consumed mana.
Yet without a moment’s hesitation, Moriarty poured every grimoire he owned into a single book.
The moment all knowledge was contained,
the grimoire quietly settled, was carefully wrapped, and sent via magic.
Destination: Evan’s room.
If nothing went wrong, it would arrive safely.
Even if it failed, he had made sure no one but Evan could touch it.
Knock knock—
“Moriarty. Are you in there?”
“Yes, Chancellor.”
Someone knocked.
Moriarty quietly sat down and nodded.
BAM!
The door was practically smashed open.
A flood of people poured in.
Knights and professors clad in magically treated armor.
And the Chancellor.
The Chancellor looked at Moriarty with a complicated expression.
“…Moriarty. I knew you could not easily escape the grief of losing your child. But… I never imagined you would make this choice…”
“It is my failing, Chancellor.”
Moriarty spoke in a flat voice.
“Punish me.”
“Of course we will. You thought this would just pass?”
A new voice cut in.
Professor Baltan, who worked as an associate in the same department as Moriarty.
“I knew it would end like this.”
Baltan had never particularly liked Moriarty.
Working in the same department, the difference in achievement and talent was glaring—of course he wouldn’t.
How could he hate seeing the man he disliked finally fall?
“If you loved your child so much, would you touch black magic? The child was just an excuse; you simply wanted to—”
“Professor Baltan!”
“What? Am I wrong?”
Baltan grumbled.
Then his eyes met Moriarty’s and he flinched.
Eyes without highs or lows.
The moment he met those calm, still eyes, goosebumps rose all over his body.
…That’s the look of someone who could kill a man.
Baltan instinctively stepped back.
His pride wounded, he clenched his fists, but he shut his mouth and said no more.
Moriarty gave him a cold glance, then slowly turned his head.
“…I will accept the proper punishment under the law, Chancellor. Please take me away.”
“Before that, someone wishes to see you first. The situation became complicated with the White Shadow Cult involved.”
The Chancellor looked at him with a subtle expression, then stepped aside.
The moment he moved, light poured in.
Literally.
Even though there were no windows, warm sunlight flooded the room.
Moriarty shielded his eyes with one hand, then slowly lowered it and widened his eyes.
“A pleasure to meet you, Professor Moriarty. This is our first face-to-face meeting.”
The Saintess of the Sun.
Adrianna.
With sunlight—more precisely, divine power—floating behind her like a halo, Adrianna smiled gently.
“I am Adrianna, the Saintess. May we speak for a moment?”
A beautiful yet somehow chilling smile.
Naturally, there were bad rumors about Saintess Adrianna as well as good ones.
I may never get to meet her directly after all…
The professor quietly closed his eyes.
***
Charlotte gave a wry smile and asked.
“Can we talk for a moment?”
“…What is it?”
“It’s not… some huge story. I just wanted to tell you that I was foolish.”
Charlotte patted the seat beside her.
Evan stared for a second, then, feeling an inexplicable unease, simply sat in a nearby chair instead.
Charlotte looked momentarily dumbfounded, then snrk laughed and shook her head.
“…It’s simple, really. Nothing complicated. I thought I was a genius.”
“Not to brag, but I was really smart.”
Charlotte.
The runaway princess.
More precisely, the third princess.
Younger than Aegis, but remarkably clever.
From what Evan remembered, she was different from Aegis.
Extraordinary deductive reasoning, perhaps?
Outstanding judgment—the ability to find or create connections between incidents.
That was why she roamed the continent calling herself a detective and solving cases.
Though “detective” wasn’t quite accurate.
She could simply see things that only those with talent in magic or swordsmanship should be able to see.
A peculiar gift, more like.
Hard to explain precisely…
“So later I was supposed to become a royal magistrate. You know what a magistrate is, right?”
“Yes. Someone who memorizes and interprets the nation’s laws and passes judgment accordingly.”
“Sounds cool when you just hear the name… but in reality, it was just rigging things for the higher-ups.”
Rigging.
Evan roughly understood what she meant.
“Even if someone committed a crime and was summoned, they’d just get a light punishment or none at all and that would be it.”
“Exactly.”
Charlotte nodded.
“I couldn’t stand it. So I ran away with Sister Aegis. The only one left is probably our eldest sister… she’s too responsible, so she stayed. Foolishly…”
“So, what is it you wanted to tell me?”
“After escaping and becoming free, I traveled the continent a lot. I was smart, I had a special gift. So I dug into all kinds of crimes. Punishing people with it was honestly fun… and watching big shots collapse when their crimes were exposed—secretly satisfying.”
It was an ugly side of human nature.
A perfectly normal emotion, but being honest about it didn’t make it good.
Charlotte laid it all bare.
As if she believed Evan would listen to her whole story.
…This is burdensome.
Evan, the one listening, felt like dying from the pressure.
I’m not a genius like you; I don’t know how to handle people’s troubles…
“So I came here to dig up dirt on Professor Moriarty too. I was going to ruin him. I noticed the arrogant professor was hiding something sinister. But I never imagined… it was connected to his child.”
Charlotte’s hand trembled slightly.
“I only thought from my own perspective. Without even knowing the proper order of events.”
“…That can happen.”
Evan spoke, just to say something.
If I comfort her a bit, she’ll leave, right?
“Strictly speaking, he committed many illegal acts. A backstory doesn’t justify crime. We just have to distinguish whether someone is truly evil or not.”
“…”
“I think judging that is your role, Charlotte.”
“…So I should have gathered information more thoroughly, right? You already knew all of this, didn’t you?”
“…I understand, Evan. Honestly, I don’t know how much you knew. But…”
Charlotte gave a wry smile.
“It means I still have a long way to go… I’ll take your actions as reference.”
No, reference for what…
Before Evan could say anything, Charlotte stood up.
She looked somehow refreshed.
“I’ll get going now. I was incredibly rude for a moment.”
“Thanks to you, my worries are resolved. Thank you.”
No…
I still don’t know what just happened…
Charlotte bowed deeply and vanished.
She really seemed to have left with her curiosity satisfied.
Evan collapsed onto the bed.
Ah, I’m so tired.
I was just going to sleep like this.
Knock knock.
Someone knocked again.
A familiar—yet unwanted—voice came from the other side.
“May we speak for a moment?”
Ah, please.
Can’t you just leave?
Saintess Adrianna.
She had come personally to Evan’s room in the middle of the night.
Evan swallowed a sigh and opened his mouth.
“…Come in.”
What could possibly happen, right?