Chapter 9: A Personal Grudge

Chapter 9:
A Personal Grudge

 

THERE WERE A FEW REASONS why I volunteered to be a proxy in Angelica’s duel. One of them was my own personal grudge against the five eligible bachelors I’d been forced to pursue when my little sister made me play this game for her.

The indignation of having to listen to their sweet nothings bubbled back up and whispered, Destroy them.

A cleanup crew removed the broken Amor parts littering the arena so that they wouldn’t impede the following battles. They also took away the box Arroganz had descended in.

As I waited in the middle of the ring for my next opponent, I noticed something strange going on with the prince and his group. My suit managed to pick up their voices.

“I’ll go next. I’ll give you that Brad’s kind of a pushover, but that suit’s something else. It’d be too much for you guys,” Greg was saying.

Chris’s hackles rose. “Are you really trying to imply you’re a better fighter than I am?”

The prince glanced over at me. “Bartfort has cleared a dungeon before. I see now why he was so confident: that Armor of his.”

Jilk followed his prince’s gaze. “It must be a Lost Item. Still, I’ve never heard of anyone discovering one so powerful. It seems more focused on strength than speed.”

The crowd continued murmuring after the upset of Brad’s loss. Most of the students had believed I would lose, and the prince and his friends would prevail. The money at stake was far from trivial. My outside microphone picked up some of their commentary, too.

“Well, there’d be no point in watching if it wasn’t at least a bit exciting.”

“Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I’m sure it’ll be over in the next round.”

They were still sure it would all end in their favor.

After reviewing the data he’d collected from our last battle, Luxion said, “I’ve finished implementing corrections for our next confrontation with a spear-wielder.”

“Appreciated. Oh, look, Greg got his way.”

Greg had leaped up into his red-painted Armor and entered the arena with an enormous spear in hand.

Luxion went over his analysis of my new opponent. “This Armor is far from mint condition; several points have been repaired multiple times. Numerous scratches and dents indicate this suit has seen a number of
battles.”

“Yep, this guy’s pretty strong.”

As Greg Fou Seberg’s rough appearance suggested, he was the most experienced adventurer of his five pals. I couldn’t turn my nose up at his preference for real combat experience. I’d relied on him a lot in the game.

Greg turned the point of his spear toward me. “Your name was Bartfort, right? I’ll remember that. But this is the end of the line for you. That Lost Item seems to pack quite the punch, but it’s still just an item. That’s not your strength.”

He was absolutely right. I almost wanted to applaud him for it. I couldn’t argue at all.

“And so what?” I asked. “You know, you did this at the party, too—you sure like to run your mouth. If you want to talk so bad, why not invite me for tea next time?”

My taunts had immediate effect.

“I’ll crush you to pieces!”

The referee bellowed, “Begin!”

Greg whipped his spear through the air, closing the distance between us. He’d watched my previous match, and he clearly had no intention of letting me attack first.

“Come on!” he jeered. “What happened to all that bravado?! Is this all you’ve got?!”

He thrust and slashed, swinging his weapon while I blocked each blow with my shovel. Metal ground against metal and sparks flew. Combined with the glow of his spear, it was almost blinding.

“Your moves are great,” I said, and I meant it. “And you’ve got guts. There’s just one problem…you need to pick better equipment!”

I deflected his spear with my shovel, overpowering his lightweight Armor with my sheer mass, and he lost his balance.

Greg tried to fly backward—these suits were made for aerial combat, after all—to get distance again, but I grabbed his right foot with my left hand.

“Y-you bastard!” he growled, and tried to jab at my hand with his spear. It did no damage, however, and my grip remained firm.

The man had impressive skills, but just like in the game, he had little interest in updating his equipment. He thought only second-rate warriors bothered with the latest advancements. As a result, his Armor today was older, a mass-produced suit dressed up fancy in a gaudy coat of red paint.

I’d received numerous Game Overs on account of this deficiency.

Ditch that stupid pride of yours!

I crushed his suit’s ankle with my hand. It wouldn’t affect his actual leg, but the girls in the crowd nevertheless shrieked in horror. I pulled him close and drove my shovel through the helmet, then proceeded to crush one of Greg’s robot arms with Arroganz’s free hand.

“What’s the matter? Go on, weren’t you running?!” I reached for the other arm to destroy it, too.

“Dammit!” Greg wailed. “Let me go!”

“Like I’d actually listen to you, idiot.”

I completely annihilated his suit, taking care his real body wasn’t injured in the process. I yanked one of his robot arms completely off, leaving his real arm bare. Arroganz towered over him, twice the height of a normal mobile suit.

“Having fun?!” Greg spat. “You’re not even a man! A real knight would fight fair! You’re only beating us because you’re using that Armor!”

“A knight?” I snorted. “I’m not a knight. Not yet. And you’re losing because your Armor is an old piece of junk. Maybe you should have actually prepared. Or better yet, maybe you should think long and hard about why you failed to take me seriously in the first place. But hey, at least you have an excuse for why you didn’t win, right? You can tell everyone ‘his Armor was just so much more powerful than mine!’”

I ripped the hatch off his torso, exposing his face. Greg’s expression contorted in rage and desperation as Arroganz continued to tear the red Armor to shreds. If I were Greg, I’d be traumatized.

Not that that was gonna stop me.

At last, Greg scrambled out of his useless suit and grabbed a broken piece of it from the ground, which he brandished it at me. “I haven’t lost yet! I’ll fight until my last breath!”

That insistence on never giving up didn’t impress me at all. He looked like a stubborn idiot.

“Yes, I can see that,” I said. “But you know—”

“No more talk, come at me!” He swung the broken piece of Armor at me, but I didn’t even try to defend myself. That thing wasn’t going to do jack to me.

“Unlike you,” I continued, “I don’t enjoy harassing the weak.”

Greg froze. “Wh-what the—? What in the world are you saying?!”

“I said I don’t enjoy tormenting those beneath me, unlike you and your friends. Are you really that hard of hearing?”

“Enough of your nonsense!” he howled. “We’ve never bullied the weak!”

“Ah ha ha ha!” I couldn’t help cracking up. “You have some goddamn nerve. You had the gall to come out in that old heap of scrap metal, so confident in your abilities. But you underestimated me. You’re no different than any other guy. I’m not top of the class, I’ll give you that, but you acted so tough when we agreed to the duel. I expected you to put up a fight, but look at you. You’re worthless. You’re nobody. And you know what? It doesn’t sit right with me to torment small fry, so I wanted to end this quickly. Not that you’d understand.”

I took my time spelling it out for him: You’re weak.

Ah, I really am too kind.

“Graaaaah!” Greg flung himself at me, trying to attack, but instead of looking brave, he looked pathetic. He’d denounced me in front of everyone as a weakling barely worthy of his time, and now he was getting the same treatment as he lost the duel. It was so tragic my heart broke.

Nah, not really. My heart was fine. These guys needed to be knocked down a peg.

Unable to watch from the sidelines any longer, the referee intervened, their voice weak with sympathy. “The victor is Leon Fou Bartfort! Greg Fou Seberg, please stand down. To everyone watching, please applaud our competitors!”

Greg slumped to his knees. Faint applause trickled from the stands.

“Just three left,” I mumbled.

“What a barbaric way to end it,” Luxion said. “A normal person would feel some compunction against driving their opponents mentally into a corner like that.”

“Like I care. They need to face reality. I hate people who let their privilege go to their heads.”

“Would you like to look in a mirror, Master?”

I knew what he meant—he didn’t even have to say anything. But hearing it pissed me off.

 

***

 

The students in the crowd were disgusted.

“That match was brutal. That’s not how a knight fights.”

“Idiot, it’s a duel.”

“That’s two down already. I’m sure Chris will beat him, though.”

Their assessments of Greg had changed, however.

“I guess he was weak after all.”

“He was always so annoying with that talk of how important real combat experience is, but look at how easily he lost.”

“I expected more from him. I’m disappointed. I have no interest in weak guys like that.”

Angelica had watched the match with unease, sweat lining her brow. “He’s really going out of his way to show the difference in their power.”

She didn’t think Greg was weak at all. No, Leon and his Arroganz were simply far too strong. Greg was unlucky, but he hadn’t lost because of his outdated Armor. Even if he’d had the newest model, he couldn’t have won.

Could any suit in the kingdom match that Armor’s power?

Olivia, on the other hand, was perturbed. “I’m glad Leon is winning, but that was overboard. He should apologize to Greg later!”

Angelica shook her head, her gaze falling to her feet. “It’s best he doesn’t. He’ll just wound Greg’s pride even further.” Her gaze fell to her feet.

During the battle, Leon had claimed that he was different from the prince and his friends. Angelica assumed he was referring to how Julius and the others had shamed her in front of everyone at the party. No one had stood up for her or taken her side. But she had no way of knowing whether Leon actually realized what his comments implied.

“So…I’m weak, huh? How pathetic. I wanted…” Angelica’s voice trailed off as she stared up at the sky.

I wanted to be stronger for the prince’s sake.

 

***

 

Once the arena had been cleaned up again, the next person to descend was Chris with his blue Armor. He wielded an enormous sword in both hands, with a number of other blades affixed to his back. This guy wasn’t just a swordsman; he was a Swordmaster. The kingdom bestowed that title on those who showed truly impressive swordsmanship, putting them in a class above the rest.

Chris’s father was the Sword Saint, the highest achievable rank, and ever since childhood, Chris had undergone strict training. While that training made him eternally cool and collected, he struggled to express his emotions. When he held a sword, however, he was unbeatable.

I hated him, too. Partly because his route in the game was difficult, but also because he couldn’t use anything but a sword. He had absolutely no long-range attacks, making him challenging to deploy. Just like the two who came before him, I’d faced numerous Game Overs as a result of Chris’s character flaws. The very memory of it brought rage seething back to the surface.

Chris lifted the enormous sword in his hands, taking a battle stance. “I won’t let my guard down like the other two. I’m going to fight with everything I have from the start.”

“Really? Then maybe I should do the same.”

“When are you going to bring out your real weapon?” Chris snapped, gesturing at my shovel. “An instrument like that has no place on the field!”

“That’s not your place to decide,” I sneered.

The referee bellowed, “Begin!”

Regardless of my grudge, Chris definitely was a strong character. Unlike his two friends before him, he didn’t seem to underestimate me, either. He showed no hesitation as he charged forward, ready to cut me down.

“Luxion, launch the drones.”

“All right. Deploying them now.”

I stepped back, keeping a fair distance as eight drones popped out of the weapons container on my back. There were sphere-shaped robots, all equipped with machine guns.

“What?!” Chris’s face contorted in surprise.

“Fire!” I pulled the trigger on the control stick, and the drones launched into their attack on the blue Armor.

Chris frantically attempted to dodge their onslaught, but he was surrounded, and he didn’t stand a chance. The rapid fire of the little robots furiously chipped away at his defenses. Chris tried to counterattack, sensing he couldn’t win if he didn’t go on the offensive, but Luxion and the drones effortlessly outmaneuvered him.

“Resistance is futile,” Luxion said.

As soon as Chris attacked one drone, the others swooped in. He adapted swiftly, retreating behind a wall so they couldn’t circle him. A decent countermeasure. For a time.

“And checkmate. Feel like surrendering yet?” The entire time, my shovel hadn’t moved from Arroganz’s shoulder.

“How can you be satisfied with these tactics?!” Chris roared. “There’s nothing chivalrous about this!”

I was impressed with his rigid adherence to the knightly code, but frankly, I had no interest in it.

“That’s all you have to say? This isn’t a knightly sparring match. No matter how you frame it, a duel is a fight to the death. Are you telling me it’s wrong to use guns? You didn’t set any rules against it. Besides, I’m going up against five of you. Am I not the one who deserves sympathy here? Oh, I’m sorry, that’s right. I only have to take you on one at a time. I guess I can’t blame you for the lack of consideration. Really though, who do you think holds the power here? I was thinking about being nice and holding back, but if you’re jonesing for a fair-and-square duel that follows the code, I guess I’ll have to give it to you.”

Chris launched himself at me.

Luxion wasn’t about to miss the opportunity; he recalled our eight drones and they circled me as they opened fire on our opponent. Special bullets with reduced damage ensured we didn’t accidentally kill him, but this attack was so forceful that Chris had to use his enormous sword as a shield.

“Make fun of me all you like,” he shouted. “No one could enjoy a battle like this!”

“Fine with me. I only care about the results—I win, you guys lose. No one really gives a damn what method you use to get there. But don’t worry, I’ll tell everybody you did your best. I’d hate to drag your name through the mud by telling them how miserably you lost.”

“Graaaaaah!”

Bullets rained down on Chris as he boldly charged toward me, swinging his sword through the air. With his magic and the speed of his sword, he almost looked like a blade of light crashing toward me.

I lifted Arroganz’s left hand and caught Chris’s weapon, crushing it in my fist. “As impressive as I’d hoped for, Swordmaster.”

Smoke began issuing from his suit, and the referee jumped in to close the match. “Chris Fia Arclight’s Armor is unfit for battle! The victor is…Leon Fou Bartfort!”

Their voice was heavy as they declared me the winner.

From within Chris’s Armor came a trickle of sniffles.

“Why?” he cried. “Why did I lose? I’ve put in more effort than anyone else. I just wanted my hard work to be recognized…”

He’d had no choice but to work hard, given the title he had to live up to. I could sympathize with him on that, but it didn’t change the situation.

“If you want to whine your miseries away, do it with your beloved girlfriend. I’m sure she’ll feel sorry for you,” I said.

“You really are scum.”

I flinched. Unexpectedly, Luxion’s words pierced my heart like a dagger. Even I realized I’d gone a bit too far.

Still, it was for the best—better they lost here and now.

 

***

 

Shock broke out everywhere in the stands.

“D-did you see that? Chris lost!”

“What the—? That was totally unfair!”

“Hey, Leon’s that guy who cleared a dungeon by himself and earned a barony, right? Maybe he’s actually pretty strong?”

“H-hold on a minute. Does that mean he’s really going to win this thing? I bet everything I had on the prince!”

Some of the students who had been so sure of the prince’s victory began to nurse doubts. At the same time, many who had made light of Leon could no longer see him the same way.

Tears welled up in Olivia’s eyes. “I’m happy Leon is winning, Miss Angelica, but the way he’s doing it is so cruel.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Angelica retorted. “He might lose if he’s not devoted to every countermeasure. He’s taking his opponents incredibly seriously.”

“R-really?”

“Chris is from an earldom that specializes in the sword. His father is the Sword Saint, the best swordsman in the country. Chris is just a step below him.”

Olivia seemed genuinely impressed. “That’s incredible!”

“Yes, he’s quite impressive.”

And yet even Chris didn’t stand a chance against Leon. Jilk must be panicking.

Angelica glanced over at the prince and his group. Jilk and his Armor were nowhere to be seen. Julius was trying to reassure Marie, who had turned pale. Watching the two of them made Angelica’s chest squeeze painfully.

Your Highness…

 

***

 

While servants carried Chris to the medical office, Jilk threw himself into preparations for his battle, giving rapid instructions to the mechanic overseeing his Armor.

“Install every weapon you can. I want regular bullets and magical ones, too.”

The mechanic’s eyes went wide. “You’re not supposed to use those in a match!”

“This is a duel!” Jilk barked. Normally, he was gentle and kind, but he was terrified. He didn’t have the luxury of niceties.

Decorative wings gave his green Armor a delicate appearance, but it now also carried a massive rifle, and an ax had replaced the sword. It looked ready for war.

“Remove the adornments and attach extra plating,” Jilk instructed. “Prepare some hand grenades as well.”

The mechanic looked uneasy. “Lord Jilk, we’re limited to the supplies we have on hand.”

Jilk glanced down for a moment, then lifted his gaze, determined. “That’s fine. Just give me what you can.”

While the mechanic and his assistants worked, Jilk’s thoughts drifted toward the battle ahead. I have to end this duel. Even if I can’t win, I need to inflict enough damage to stop him. Otherwise, the prince’s reputation will be at risk.

Julius was Jilk’s entire reason for being. They were best friends, brothers (albeit not by blood). If they lost here, Julius’s image would suffer immensely. Jilk couldn’t accept that. He would do whatever he needed to make sure that didn’t happen.

With that thought, he grabbed a nearby bomb, muttering, “I’ll be back in a few,” and slipped out of the room.

 

***

 

“Phew, I’m wiped.”

We were granted a temporary break between matches, so I headed to the bathroom. As soon as I returned, Olivia and Angelica burst into the waiting room.

“Leon, where were you?!” Olivia cried.

“We were worried,” Angelica added.

I tilted my head. “Huh? Why?”

They exchanged looks.

Olivia hesitated. “Oh, um, I heard someone say you looked like you weren’t feeling good.”

My eyes narrowed. “Me? I just need a short rest.”

Angelica’s brows furrowed in suspicion. “A woman claiming to be your sister arrived. Olivia recognized her. She told us you didn’t look like you were doing well, so she wanted us to come visit you.”

Jenna, worried about me? Suuuure. She hadn’t even looked at me since I picked a fight with the prince. Why would she swing by at a time like this?

Luxion chimed in, his voice quiet enough that the two girls couldn’t hear him. “Master, a bomb has been set on your Armor. Your sister planted it, acting on someone else’s orders.”

Of course. Most likely, she’d been threatened into it. I suppose I’d put her in an awkward position at the academy after I pissed off the prince and his crew. No doubt Jilk was taking advantage of that.

If I was scum, then Jilk was worse—a scumbag.

Well, Jilk will do anything for the prince. As far as he’s concerned, the ends justify the means.

“The one who gave the orders is your next opponent,” Luxion confirmed.

Bingo.

I let out a small sigh before turning toward the two girls, who looked anxious. “So my sister figured me out. I had to take a huge number two and I was struggling to hold it in the whole time I was out there. My stomach hurt so bad I thought I was gonna die. Honestly, I was having more trouble with my bowels than I was with my opponent.”

Olivia looked utterly bewildered. “O-oh, well, I guess…I see why she was worried—I suppose she just had the wrong idea.”

Angelica pinned me with a cold look. “Don’t you think you could word that a little more delicately for the ladies in the room?”

“My bad. I, uh, ‘had to go powder my nose in the arena’s nonexistent powder room and not do anything with my butt.’ Better?”

Olivia gave a strained smile.

Angelica slapped her hand to her forehead. “That isn’t—no, you know what, fine. Although you really should mind your tongue, lest you embarrass yourself in a more formal setting. But I digress. It’s time for you to return.”

“Then let’s get going,” I said.

As we made our way to the arena, Luxion gave me his report. “The bomb is set on the back of Arroganz. That’s a fatal weak point for the Armor of this country, so your opponent really does mean to eliminate you. Given the amount of blasting powder, I can confidently say it would immolate the pilot as well, if they were in a normal suit.”

So the nicest-looking guy of the bunch is actually the scariest. That’s a pretty common trope.

 

***

 

By the time I got to the arena, Jenna was nowhere to be seen. Not that I minded. I had no idea what I would even say to her after she’d agreed to hide a bomb on my Armor.

Angelica glanced at the green mobile suit on the other side of the arena. “Your opponent is waiting for you. It looks like one of them finally means business.”

Jilk was loaded down with so much equipment it looked like he was ready to meet his death in the line of duty.

As I climbed into my Armor, Luxion reported, “This bomb appears to be triggered by a special type of magic.”

The same kind of explosive had been available in the game, but I’d never used them personally.

“Types like him are the most terrifying,” I said. “He’s great with a gun, but he’s also skilled with other weapons—a real all-rounder. No matter the situation, he can adapt to it.”

While the prince and the other high lords largely excelled at melee combat, except for Brad, Jilk was proficient at long-range combat. Furthermore, in the game, his skills had the easiest learning curve. I’d relied upon him a lot—although he still pissed me off because his route was insanely difficult to complete.

As I stepped onto the field, Jilk called out to me. “You’re strong. I respect that.”

“Thank you.”

The moment the referee called for the match to begin, Jilk turned the barrel of his rifle toward me. He flew up into the air and fired, then threw what looked like a grenade. A white shroud enveloped my surroundings.

“A smoke screen,” Luxion remarked.

“He’s not going easy on me.”

 

***

 

Smoke swallowed the arena, and Jilk flew almost as high as he could. Too high and he would be disqualified, so he carefully stayed within the boundaries. He planned to launch an aerial attack with his rifle and hand grenades.

“Hopefully this is enough.”

Jilk hadn’t wanted to take the underhanded route, but he had contacted Leon’s sister—through another male student, of course—and handed the bomb to her. This way, if someone did reveal the exchange, it wouldn’t affect Julius’s reputation. Jilk could pass it off as another student’s overzealousness for the prince’s sake.

A magic circle floated in front of Jilk’s eyes, and through it, he saw Leon down below, searching through the smoke.

“You’re too dangerous, so I’m going to get rid of you now.”

People wouldn’t look fondly on him for carrying this ammo—it was a special piercing type used in the army to combat enemy Armor—but his opponent had shown overwhelming power. Jilk couldn’t waste time debating the morality of his tactics.

“The moment you opposed the prince, your life was forfeit. You’ll meet your glorious end here!”

Jilk aimed right for Leon’s head, a clear attempt to take his opponent’s life. He pulled the trigger.

“What the—?!”

Leon glanced up, unscathed, as if the fired gun had been meant to get his attention. He waved leisurely.

“Tsk!” Jilk threw another grenade, then loaded more bullets into his rifle. He aimed and started to pull the trigger again—but seeing the grenade bounce harmlessly off of his opponent, Jilk played his trump card.

He activated the magic required to trigger the bomb on Leon’s Armor.

“A point-blank attack will take care of you!”

Leon disappeared. He was no longer in the arena. Yet…it didn’t look as if he’d been blown to pieces. It was like he was just…gone.

“What? Where in the world did he go?!”

A shadow passed over the sun, and Jilk sensed something wrong. There hadn’t been a single cloud in the sky. He glanced up to find Leon floating behind him.

“Heya.”

Jilk plummeted, whipping his rifle around and aiming at Leon. His finger clenched around the trigger, but something repelled the bullet. It should have pierced Leon at this distance!

“So. You actually withstood that bomb,” Jilk said.

“It was rough,” Leon admitted. “In more ways than one.”

Jilk grabbed his battle-ax and lunged, but Leon parried the attack with his shovel.

Jilk dropped his voice so the audience wouldn’t be able to hear him. “You don’t know anything.”

“Look in a mirror and say that again. You and your friends are out of your minds.”

“You really intend to face the prince in a duel? Your life as a noble will be over,” Jilk spat.

“Good! Being in the higher class makes me sick! I’d do anything to be free. Guess the two of us are similar in that way, huh?”

Any normal man would understand what Jilk was implying. Even an idiot would be desperate to negotiate after being forced to hear the consequences of his actions. Leon was the opposite. He seemed even more fired up than before.

Jilk suddenly pictured Marie’s face. She was a mysterious woman. She truly understood him, as if she were the embodiment of his ideal partner. He knew no one like her in the palace—or anywhere. With her, his heart felt at ease. In no time at all, he had become obsessed.

“I finally found the woman of my dreams!” Jilk blurted.

“Good for you. When your team loses and the prince has to stay away from her, that’ll be one less rival for you to contend with! You can play at being lovers all you like.”

Jilk managed to block Leon’s incoming strike with his rifle, but the impact sent his gun tumbling to the ground.

His power is overwhelming.

Jilk thought of the prince. Whenever they talked of Marie, the prince smiled in a way he never had before.

“What do you even know?! The prince and I both truly love her! We don’t want to possess her. We just want her to be happy!”

“Then why not step aside?” Leon sounded bored, but he maintained his relentless assault.

With each blow, Jilk’s Armor creaked and groaned in protest. “I don’t care what I have to do to win. I’m not going to lose to you! If you intend to harm the prince, I’ll do everything in my power to make you pay—no, not just you, your entire family!”

When Jilk first found out that he and the prince loved the same person, he’d hated himself and planned to bow out for the prince’s sake. But his love for Marie was too powerful to let him bend so easily. However, he wasn’t dueling for himself but for Julius and Marie—for them, he would do anything.

“That’s a pretty underhanded threat to use in a duel,” Leon said.

“Say whatever you want!”

Locked in aerial combat, they soared too high for anyone in the stands to hear them. Jilk felt the battle turning in his favor. He moved to renew his assault.

“I don’t care what I have to do to win. I’m not going to lose to you! If you intend to harm the prince, I’ll do everything in my power to make you pay—no, not just you, your entire family!”

Jilk’s voice—his own words—were being played back to him!

“H-how?” He’d never heard of any magic like this before! Was it rare? Or maybe it was some newly developed type of technology? Perhaps Leon had merely mimicked his voice…

But no. Somehow Leon was playing their conversation back to him.

Jilk gritted his teeth in frustration.

“You’re the one who threatened me,” Leon said. “I know, how about I deliver a copy of this to your family? I wonder what they’d think. How shameful would it be for them to discover their son threatened someone because he was about to lose? They’d be devastated! Oh, maybe I should deliver it to your precious prince and Marie instead? They’d be disgusted. You know what, better yet, let’s give it to the academy. Then we can have the whole school listen!”

Jilk composed himself. “My voice alone isn’t proof of anything.”

If Jilk knew of no magic or device that could record people’s voices, then neither did anyone else. Therefore, it would be difficult to prove this recording was legitimate. Difficult, but…

“It might not work as hard evidence, but it’ll inspire plenty of doubt,” Leon said. “Besides, if you really do follow through and try to pressure my family, everyone will grow suspicious. ‘So he really was behind this,’ they’ll say. You think they won’t start to suspect the prince, too, after that? Everyone’ll start thinking it. ‘The prince put him up to it.’ Your precious prince’s public image will be destroyed!”

Jilk tried to maintain a mask of calm, desperately thinking of some way to get out of this. “The prince isn’t involved. I said what I said.”

“But that’s not actually up to you to decide, now is it? People connect dots, they start to suspect who’s involved with what. Remember when Angelica was trying to talk, and you guys refused to listen? What makes you so confident the same won’t happen to you?”

Jilk gaped, at a loss for words. Leon was right; when Angelica claimed she knew nothing of Marie’s torment, Jilk and his friends hadn’t listened.

“But that was—”

“I’m tired of this. Eat dirt.” Leon’s voice was chilly as he slammed his foot down on Jilk, sending him careening toward the ground.

Upon impact, Jilk felt consciousness slipping through his fingers.

Leon’s mumbles floated through his mind: “I caused a lot of trouble for Jenna. How should I go about fixing this…?”

As if he had already lost interest in Jilk, lying in the shattered pieces of his robot.

The last thought that crossed Jilk’s mind was, Your Highness, this man is dangerous. You can’t…fight him.

Then the darkness claimed him.