Eriboia.
Commonly called Lady Achaia, she sat in the mansion’s parlor, lost in thought.
'Carla’s behavior changed all of a sudden.'
Even after Makia, she continued to receive reports.
The noble society gathered under the single purpose of eradicating the demons hidden within Atlas. As its de facto leader, she could access every piece of information related to Carla.
However, ever since Makia, she hadn’t obtained any useful information about her.
Carla began acting like an ordinary academy principal. She stopped all suspicious activities.
'...And now she dares show that brazen face. A demon like her, how dare she.'
Eriboia’s face quickly twisted into displeasure.
Frondier had confessed that he was a demon during Makia. Yet he had defended Carla, saying she was human.
Of course, Eriboia never believed it. She was convinced both of them were demons anyway.
But after Frondier’s warning during Makia, every single trace that could hint Carla was a demon completely disappeared.
Carla no longer seduced men, ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) no longer vanished from Atlas, no longer obsessed over demons with that eerie curiosity of hers.
Considering the timing, it was obviously Frondier who had ordered something. Proof that there was an absolute hierarchy between the two.
'Frondier spoke as if he held some extraordinary information. Something fatal even to me. But what could that possibly be?'
Eriboia was a woman who lived by connections. Of course, her own ability to maintain those connections was what made them possible.
She moved with the times, was sensitive to information, knew how to use it, and excelled at turning people to her side.
But Frondier had struck exactly there.
Eriboia’s network reached everywhere, and she also held one or two secrets the high nobles would never want revealed. Of course, exposing them wouldn’t improve her situation—it would only drag her down with them.
However, if someone of equal reach—or worse, someone with far more fatal information—was holding something over her head?
'That face, that expression, that atmosphere. There must be something.'
He couldn’t have spoken so boldly and confidently out of bluff alone. He had entered, by himself, the very heart of the group she had been planning with and threatened her directly. Impossible without solid backing.
“I’m home.”
Just then, her son Ias opened the front door and stepped inside.
“Mother, what are you doing?”
“......”
“Mother?”
Eriboia silently stared at Ias for a moment.
If she were to speak of change, her son Ias was no exception.
She never told him, but Eriboia roughly knew how her son was being evaluated within Atlas.
She didn’t need to spy or eavesdrop—information about Ias reached her easily, for he was too famous.
His ability was unmatched, but he deliberately covered his own eyes, sealing his sight.
That was the neat way society expressed its judgment. So neat, it hurt even his mother’s heart.
“Ias, it’s vacation now—how was your first term?”
“...It was fine.”
Ias answered plainly, not knowing whether she was asking with purpose or out of idle curiosity.
He was always respectful toward Eriboia. Whether with his mother, father, close relatives, or high-ranking nobles, Ias always behaved with decorum.
He wasn’t someone who acted recklessly anywhere.
It could be called the behavior of a coward who only showed arrogance where there was no one strong—but it also meant he knew better than anyone that his strength wouldn’t work against those above a certain level.
Yet Ias had changed. It was hard to say exactly how, but recently, Eriboia had read something different in his eyes.
Proving that, bad rumors about Ias had sharply decreased lately. On the other hand, he hadn’t stood out anywhere that showcased his talent either.
Simply put, Ias was not moving toward either side at the moment. Eriboia didn’t know yet whether that was good or bad. Perhaps even Ias himself didn’t.
“Right. Do you have any plans for the break? Going somewhere with friends?”
“Mm, not really.”
Exactly the answer she expected. Ias was popular, but he had no friends. There were plenty who called themselves his friends, but none who truly were.
Most people who approached him either sought the prestige of House Achaia or hoped to benefit from his future success.
Then Eriboia’s eyes gleamed.
“That boy, Pielot—how about him?”
“...Pielot?”
Ias immediately frowned. His face said he didn’t even want to think about that name.
That was it—the reaction Eriboia wanted. It was the first time her son had reacted so strongly at the mention of someone his age. Which meant that boy held some particular meaning for him. She wasn’t simply amused by his reaction.
“I saw him once, and he seemed quite decent.”
“Mother, you’ve never even properly spoken with him.”
“I can tell just by looking. I saw him in the staff room, remember?”
“...You call that seeing him? You hated it then.”
Ias recalled the time Eriboia caused a scene in the staff room, and his cheekbones tingled at the memory.
Of course, the reason Eriboia thought highly of Pielot was that he was a peer whose ability surpassed Ias’s.
And by quite a margin, it seemed. For Ias, it must have been a refreshing shock—meeting a rival for the first time.
'Somehow, I feel like Ias changed because of that boy.'
The logical chain played perfectly in Eriboia’s head. A transfer student stronger than Ias, whose talent spurred him on.
He must have realized he couldn’t stay as he was, abandoned his arrogance, and entered the stage of self-renewal. Right now, Ias was paused—preparing for a higher leap.
Yes, that must be it. That boy Pielot had looked diligent when she saw him. He had likely never wasted time on useless pride or reckless defiance. Diligence and humility were probably his nature. A friend like that was exactly what Ias needed.
'There may be disasters like Teacher Frondier, but Atlas at least allows encounters with good students like Pielot. I only hope Ias avoids that teacher and spends more time with friends like Pielot'.
Eriboia thought.
Frondier had spoken nonsense about wanting to build “a society where demons and humans coexist.”
Of course, she didn’t believe he meant it.
But if that was the excuse for keeping his subordinate as Atlas’s principal, then at least he wouldn’t do anything inappropriate to the students.
As Ias scratched his head, he spoke.
“...Well, I did think we might train together. Me and Pielot.”
“Oh my, really?”
Eriboia was surprised. Saying they would train together meant one of them had made such a suggestion. Whichever side it came from, it didn’t matter—it meant there was an opportunity for them to get closer.
Of course, the truth was they merely happened to take the same course on combined weapon and magic combat.
“But it didn’t turn out that way. We ended up training separately. He said he’d be going somewhere during the break.”
“Oh, what a shame. Where’s he going?”
“He said to the capital.”
The capital. Right, that boy was a transfer student. If he’d come from somewhere far from Atlas, he might have a romantic fascination with the capital.
'That makes sense. Now that I think about it, it’s been a while since our family went somewhere together. Maybe we should take this vacation as an opportunity...'
As Eriboia entertained that thought—
“...Come to think of it,”
Ias spoke quietly, as if recalling something.
“Teacher Frondier’s going on vacation around that same time...”
“What?!”
“Huh?”
“W–What did you just say, Ias?”
Eriboia suddenly panicked so much that Ias was startled too.
“P–Pielot going to the capital?”
“No, after that!”
“T–Teacher Frondier?”
“Why—why are you calling that man ‘teacher’?!”
“What else am I supposed to call him? He is my teacher!”
Well, that’s true.
Eriboia barely managed to calm herself down. She asked again.
“Frondier’s vacation schedule is the same as when Pielot’s going to the capital?”
“Ah, I’m not sure if it’s exactly the same date. I don’t even know if it’s really a vacation.”
“Then why do you think it’s a vacation? And how do you even know his schedule?”
“I told you—I was going to train with Pielot. It’s Teacher Frondier’s class—”
“You! You even take his class?!”
“Of course I do! He’s a teacher! What’s with you all of a sudden?”
Ah, right.
Eriboia shook her head.
“R–Right. Go on.”
“During the break, I was supposed to take some private lessons with Teacher Frondier, but he said there wouldn’t be any classes for a while. That’s all. It just happened to overlap with when Pielot said he was going to the capital.”
Eriboia’s head throbbed.
She had been pleased to think Ias was getting along with Pielot—but now it turned out that the ominous demon Frondier was involved in that friendship? That they were not training together, but learning under him?
And the break in classes overlapped with Pielot’s trip to the capital?
“...Ias, do Pielot and Teacher Frondier have some kind of connection?”
“Uh, not that I know of. Actually, I thought Teacher Frondier seemed closer with Vasileo.”
Eriboia’s mind accelerated.
Pielot going to the capital, Frondier pausing classes around the same time.
At first glance, it was meaningless coincidence. During vacation, most students went on trips, and many visited the capital.
Teachers would of course rest when not on duty. If anything, it was strange Frondier had been holding classes up to now.
So there was no connection between Pielot and Frondier.
None at all—
'...Except that the destination is the capital.'
That was what bothered Eriboia immensely.
It was like gambling where the chance of loss was under 1%, but the price for losing was your life—too steep to risk easily.
If there was any connection between Frondier and Pielot—if in truth Frondier was heading to the capital, and Pielot was simply following him—
And if Frondier’s purpose there was to leak information that, for Eriboia, was her lifeline itself—to the high nobles or to King Palma—
'It’s far from here to the capital. Phone calls risk wiretapping, and letters aren’t fit for real discussion. Meeting in person is the best way to exchange information.'
And distance was only a disadvantage before departure—once Frondier reached the capital, it would become his advantage.
If Eriboia learned too late that Frondier had arrived in the capital, whatever he did there, she would have no choice but to sit and watch helplessly.
“...Ias.”
“Yes?”
Eriboia smiled brightly.
“Let’s go to the capital too. We haven’t gone on a family trip in a while. It’ll be nice for a change.”
At that, one corner of Ias’s eye twitched.
“...Why the capital?”
“Just because.”
“Can’t we go somewhere else?”
“Why? You don’t like the capital? It’s not a place we get to visit often.”
It wasn’t that he disliked it. In fact, he rather liked it.
Atlas was Palma’s pride, a prestigious educational institution with excellent facilities—but it couldn’t compare to the splendor of the capital. The seat of the king. That alone filled the place with sights and delights.
And yet, without any particular reason—
'...Why do I feel so uneasy?'
He didn’t want to go to the capital. Not this time.
He couldn’t tell if it was instinct or intuition. The same nauseating, ominous feeling he’d had watching Glaukos and Pielot’s sparring match—was this it again?
...No, it felt a bit different.
***
Frondier’s meeting was nearing its end.
With most matters settled, Arald asked,
“Confirming that Poseidon isn’t the real one—that’s all we need?”
“No. We also have to confirm Aphrodite and Hera. There’s a high chance they aren’t gods either.”
“How do we confirm that? If they’re really demons, they won’t show themselves easily.”
“Whether they appear or not doesn’t matter.”
Frondier’s eyes sank.
“If they’re demons pretending to be gods, then they must have formed contracts. So all we need to do is meet the humans who claim to have received Hera’s or Aphrodite’s divine power.”
A third party couldn’t distinguish a god from a demon.
But at least the contractors themselves would know what they had signed with.
If they’d met demons, they must have made contracts—and not everyone was foolish enough to forget it like Antero.
Riri asked,
“And once we meet those humans? You think they’ll just tell us?”
“They’ll tell us—after some difficulty.”
“──Okay. I won’t ask further. Do as you see fit.”
Riri felt a familiar chill in Frondier’s tone and stepped back.
Frondier lifted his hand from the desk.
All preparations were complete.
Seeing that, Carla spoke.
“Antero’s a royal knight. If he bears a grudge, it could be serious.”
“Whatever he does will be smaller than what we’re trying to prevent.”
“Well, that’s true.”
Carla nodded.
She was getting used to Frondier’s way of thinking.
Though she didn’t want to.
“Then, shall we?”
Frondier lifted his gaze. Everyone in the room came into view.
Of course, Pielot and Vasileo were there too.
“Let’s go. To the capital.”
