â Editorâs Authority (2) â
[âYou are using Inherent Skill: Editorâs Authority (1/3).]
[âRemaining Time / Time Limit:
00:00:14 / 00:00:15]
Isiel, Nebo, and the cat all stopped moving; even the fluttering curtain froze mid-breeze. A bunch of ragged papers floated up in front of his view and spread out. The papers looked worn down as if the sentences on them had been repeatedly written and erased over and over.
New, vivid black letters overlap faded traces of the previous letters. They were letters that he had never seen before, but he could somehow read them. What was written on the papers was clearly -Albion Kingdomâs Prince-. The -Final Manuscript- that Kleio had yet to see. The last paragraph on the spread-out page was describing the crisis Kleio had just undergone, but nothing else was written after it. There was just a bunch of frayed papers where the previously written contents had been erased.
âAm I supposed to revise something thatâs being written in real-time personally? Editorâs Authority was something like this!?â
[âRemaining Time / Time Limit:
00:00:07 / 00:00:15]
There was no time to hesitate. Kleio, who had been looking back and forth between the pen that appeared in his hand at some point and the disheveled manuscript, rapidly began to write.
âIt has to be the same as Korean revision marks!â
Kleio picked the scene where he cast magic â the entire last paragraph â and slashed it through. Blue ink mixed with flecks of gold powder flowed out of the pen.
[âThe author accepts the editorâs suggestion.]
[âThe relevant paragraph is being edited.]
As the paragraph on the manuscript was deleted, the manuscript scattered and disappeared. Right afterward, the world transformed. The windows, the floor, and the ceiling lost their quality and changed into black lines tangled together. The bundle of print letters that had made up the world was soon bleached white. For a moment, Kleio felt a sense of buoyancy, like he was floating in a vacuum. The appearance of the familiar living room, with Isiel and the cat, returned in front of the panting Kleio.
Bamâ!
âKleio Asel, you better come out right now.â
A boy with a big build angrily rushed towards Kleio.
âA paragraphâs worth of time had been turned back.
âThis world was a manuscript, and when the manuscriptâs sentences were revised, so too was the world.â
Having realized that enormous power, Kleioâs mind went blank from the shock.
Above it, all was one thing.
âWhat kind of author listens this well to an editor?!â
There was no time to marvel over it for long as the tough boy had closed the short distance in an instant.
âDo you know how much trouble Iâve been through thanks to you jumping into the river? Even though I treated you well because I felt sorry for you!â
Kleio used all his strength to hide behind Isiel.
âHelp me!â
Isielâs reaction speed was like lightning. Holding her sword by the sheath, Isiel easily blocked the boy who was twice her size.
âI donât know whatâs going on, but must you start by throwing around punches?â
âUghhhâ.â
Having been hit by Isielâs sword sheath, the boy staggered back. Kleio, who had been suffering from that nauseating feeling of buoyancy, also lost strength in his legs and collapsed to the floor. The sight of the living room with the two boys flopped down on the ground, and one girl standing was a mess. Hanging her sword back on her waist, Isiel looked at Kleio.
âAre you okay, Kleio?â
âIâve been saying for a while that Iâm notâ¦â
Kleio sprawled out with cooled sweat dampening his heated body. Isiel was taken aback as she gripped the boy. His body was as light as a ragdollâs.
âTsk, what kind of boy is this sickly? Get ahold of yourself! This wimpâ¦â
Isielâs way of speaking was the same, but now there was a faint hint of bewilderment.
âWas she the one who moved me⦠last time tooâ¦â
The fresh smell of roses was strangely familiar. Held in thin but firm arms, Kleio lost consciousness.
***
Kleio slept like the dead for two days. He woke up on the third day, but his body was listless, so he washed up, ate what he was given, and laid around some more. Whenever he woke up, he would contemplate what the Editorâs Authority was. He wanted to try it out again but hesitated because he couldnât clearly know its limit and because he only had a limited number of times to use it. The rectangular section on the back of his hand was the clearest it had been for several minutes right after using the skill. It looked like a navy-blue metallic line that was neither a tattoo nor a burn.
âItâs a relief that it faded again. I was wondering how I was going to go around with it there.â
While he was in the middle of going back and forth between worrying about what to do and thinking, he fell back to sleep.
On the fourth day, a Friday afternoon, he finally woke up feeling refreshed. His housemate, Nebo Yarbi, was watching over him. The large boy had lost energy after throwing a fist at him four days ago; now, he just kept on apologizing to Kleio with a constipated face.
âSorry.â
âAlright, I get it.â
âI was really wrong.â
âI said I got it.â
âReally? Are you going to forgive me?â
âWellâ¦â
With a dark expression, Kleio just returned an ambiguous answer that seemed like he might accept the apology but also seemed like he wouldnât. Neboâs face looked like a mess. There were fading bruises on his cheekbones and forehead; clearly, Isielâs doing.
âThatâs right, the law is distant, but fists are close.â
Seeing how his attitude had changed, it seemed as if he had been admonished. It probably was something along the lines of âdonât bully a weak kidâ or something similar.
âOf course, the student at the top in admissions is scary. Thanks to her, it looks like it became easier to stay here for the time being.â
Nebo carefully continued gauging Kleoâs mood. He couldnât act however he wanted because he didnât know what kind of relationship Isiel and Kleio had.
âHe wouldnât be afraid that I would tattle to that girl on him, right?â
ââ¦I also fed that insane â I mean, fierce cat.â
âThanks.â
âMeoow (It was only chicken. I have a lot of complaints).â
âBehemoth said to convey his thanks, too.â
âIts name is Behemoth?â
âYeah. Moth for short.â
âIs it Moth because heâs a pest? Fucking weird nameâ¦â
âMeeoooow!â
âAck! Donât hit me, punk.â
Nebo let out a sound like he was dying as the catâs front paw smacked him in the same spot he had been hit by Isiel. The two tussled, raising up dust, and only stopped fighting after a long time had passed.
Nebo, who seemed to relax after letting loose the burden in his heart, dragged a chair over the side of the bed and sat again.
âBut did you really lose your memory?â
âI said I did.â
âHah, really. What a messâ¦â
âThatâs right. Itâs a mess. So who called you over and made you suffer so?â
Kleio smiled. It was a professional smile, one an exhausted person gives. Nebo read a subtle ominous aura from that unfamiliar expression.
âAhh. Whatâs with him? Heâs scary.â
âAh, itâs nothing. Headmaster Zebedee called me over, but it was a misunderstanding. Really.â
âHm, I see.â
Nebo just scratched his head and turned his gaze to the window. The person he had shared a dorm with for several months now felt strange and unfamiliar. Up until now, it was common for sickly Kleio to stay lying down in the dorm during the day. It mightâve been that he was escaping the fact that he couldnât follow his classes. Kleio was a little kid who was frightened of other people and chose to stay secluded. He was afraid of his own father, the baronet, who poured in enormous donations to the school to get him in. His dormmate was a walking disaster who jumped into a river in the middle of the night and overturned the school.
It was an unlikely sight for Nebo for that kind of person to comfortably raise his head and stare right at him. Kleio continued to speak in a placid tone.
âNebo, do you happen to have anything to do this afternoon?â
âI do. Iâm going to practice the connecting motions assignment that Professor Fehite gave out.â
âWhy donât you skip practice for a day?â
ââ¦Why should I?â
âI want to go to the bank, and Iâd like someone to guide me there. Professor Reuba told me to ask you.â
Nebo seemed very unwilling, but maybe he was worried about Isiel and Reuba, as he finally nodded with reluctance.
âThanks, Nebo.â
âSomehow, instead of someone who lost his memories, you seem like a completely different person.â