"Mr. Ríolíkin will be arriving shortly, so let us begin the discussion regarding the awarding of honors once he arrives. In the meantime, please feel free to enjoy some refreshments and converse at your leisure."

Fjodora had been carefully examining her familiar's Status Window. Only after noticing the three of us sitting in silence did she finally suggest refreshments and conversation.

Unfortunately, I had no desire whatsoever to engage in friendly small talk with the protagonists of the original story.

So I simply sat there quietly sipping my tea.

Reisir was no different.

I suspected he had no interest in having a personal conversation in front of a member of the Imperial Family.

He stubbornly refused to even touch his teacup.

All Fjodora could do was offer a wry smile as she watched us.

"Nyaong, nya."

In the end, the first one to reach for the untouched cookies was my adorable Baby Dragon.

My precious Yor didn't even eat one herself.

She picked up two cookies, then placed one directly into my mouth.

At that moment, I noticed Reisir looking over with unmistakable envy.

Come to think of it, Reisir is the only human here without a familiar.

Feeling a little sorry for the lonely familiar-less human, I tried not to look smug.

Unfortunately, resisting the urge to dote on Yor was impossible.

My hand naturally moved toward the Baby Dragon.

I was enjoying the sensation of her fur—which had become even softer after several days of Yohrn's care—pleasantly brushing against my palm when—

"Come to think of it, I recall Princess Ragfrid saying that, unlike someone from the Austri family, her youngest sibling was actually adorable."

"...?!"

What kind of attack from nowhere was that?

"Did my older sister really say something like that to Your Royal Highness...? No—actually, never mind. I don't need to know when."

Learning when it had happened wouldn't improve the situation.

If she had said it recently, it would be deeply disturbing.

If she had said it back when the original Karvaldr still existed, it would only make things awkward.

Despite my clear refusal to hear more, Fjodora answered anyway.

"It is difficult to remember exactly when. As you know, your sister and I have interacted regularly since childhood as playmates. Naturally, personal conversations occur from time to time."

"..."

"Your sister may not be very expressive, but she cares for you a great deal."

I couldn't particularly agree.

A much younger sibling follows you around, showers you with affection, and constantly seeks your attention.

Perhaps such a sight would indeed appear cute.

The problem was that she enjoyed receiving that affection while giving none in return.

If she neither paid attention nor expressed affection herself, could that truly be called cherishing a younger sibling?

She treated him worse than people treat a friendly stray cat they happen to encounter on the street.

Naturally, I couldn't say that aloud.

Not only was it inappropriate to complain about the Princess's childhood friend to the Princess herself—

Reisir was also sitting right here.

"...I have a general idea of how my older sister thinks of me."

Ignoring the Princess's statement outright would be rude.

So I settled for a vague response that could be interpreted however one wished and took another sip of tea.

Immediately afterward, Reisir glanced my way with obvious interest.

He looked as though he desperately wanted to tease me, but was exercising tremendous self-control because Fjodora was present.

"Are you perhaps curious about what the Princess heard about the Young Master?"

The corners of Fjodora's lips curled upward slightly.

Interestingly, she had referred to me not as you, but as the Young Master.

A third-person expression.

The implication wasn't difficult to understand.

Since Reisir had shown interest in the topic—

She's trying to kill time by talking about Karvaldr.

Just as I was wondering how I had suddenly become the topic of discussion—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound interrupted the conversation.

"The Young Master of the Tremler Family has arrived."

"Let him enter."

The door opened.

And for perhaps the first time in my life, the sight of Ríolíkin entering a room was genuinely welcome.

"Uh, u-uh...? H-have I... arrived late...?!"

He had almost certainly arrived exactly when instructed.

The guilty fidgeting was simply very Ríolíkin-like.

"No. I intentionally summoned you later."

"Whew... t-that's a relief. I-I thought I might have gotten the time wrong, but if that's not it... huh? B-but why only me...?"

"Take a seat first."

"Okay."

Casting an envious glance at Yor—who had boldly occupied the seat beside me yet again—Ríolíkin sat down next to Reisir.

A maid immediately placed a teacup before him, poured tea, then quietly left the room.

Only after the door closed did Fjodora speak again.

"I summoned only those two first to discuss the matter of the letters appearing in thin air."

"Strength, stamina... and all those other things written there? A-are you talking about that?"

"Precisely."

"B-but why was I excluded...?"

"Because there was circumstantial evidence that Young Master Karvaldr and Mr. Reisir could see it. In your case, there was no certainty."

"C-circumstantial evidence...?"

Since his delayed summons had been deliberate, Fjodora patiently explained the evidence in question without showing the slightest irritation at his repeated questions.

After hearing everything—

"Being able to see that... w-was it supposed to be something I kept secret? I already told my family everything. That it wasn't just me. That Lord Karvaldr, Reisir, Vigdís, and Helga... everyone could see it."

—Ríolíkin looked as though he might cry.

He kept glancing at me, clearly convinced he had committed some terrible mistake.

I felt absolutely no regret, however.

Because this wasn't a problem in the slightest.

The artifact used to verify whether someone is Awakened will be invented eventually anyway. It was information destined to become public.

Because of how the setting worked, only the Awakened could create entrances to the Demon Realm.

That ability was essential for rescue operations.

Even Awakened individuals who lacked combat ability were occasionally called upon to assist rescue efforts in the original story.

If someone deliberately concealed their Awakening and was later exposed, they would inevitably face severe public criticism.

Which meant there was no disadvantage in people learning about it early.

If anything, missing the proper timing to reveal it would be the greater problem.

As a result, I responded with complete indifference.

"And yet somehow the fact that you could see it never reached the Imperial Family."

"Ah, that's because... if Lord Karvaldr could see it too, then everyone assumed the information would eventually reach the Imperial Family through him. So Father said there wasn't any need to travel all the way to the capital just to submit a report. We simply stayed home. Since we're only an insignificant viscount family that can't even attend the Great Noble Council. Isn't that fortunate?"

Ríolíkin smiled brightly while saying something that would likely make generations of his ancestors weep.

Fjodora stared at him in bafflement.

Apparently she couldn't comprehend his reasoning at all.

"After speaking with Young Master Karvaldr, I concluded that hiding matters related to it is unwise. So there is no need to worry...?"

The sentence had no business ending as a question.

Yet Fjodora's voice rose uncertainly at the end.

A normal person might have found that strange.

Ríolíkin, however, was too busy admiring me.

"Having such an imp-important discussion with Her Royal Highness the Princess... Lord Karvaldr is amazing!"

He seemed to have decided that earning favor with someone he would continue seeing in the future was more important than impressing a princess he might never meet again.

"By the way, considering that all of the Young Master's friends can see it, it is understandable why the Young Master believed most people affected by the anomaly would also be able to see it."

"They aren't exactly my friends, but—"

"Hm? Young Master, what was that? Your voice was too quiet."

"Just talking to myself. More importantly, have you determined how many professors can see it?"

If I left the misunderstanding uncorrected, Reisir would undoubtedly spend the entire trip home teasing me about it.

If I denied it too strongly, Fjodora would probably ask what relationship we actually had.

Thus, after muttering my objection under my breath, I redirected the conversation with what I thought was a harmless question.

Unfortunately—

"Of course. After investigating, we found exactly one. Though it appears she was unable to enter the auditorium where the graduation ceremony was held."

"...!"

The question had turned out to be anything but harmless.

Since many readers likely don't remember the line mentioned in passing, let me explain.

Back in Chapter 136, I had concluded that besides Skati, at least one other professor must have awakened.

But according to Fjodora—

Only Skati had awakened.

How?

Because Reisir handled the boss monster, did the need for an Awakened background professor simply disappear?

That made no sense.

The professor's Awakening should have happened before Reisir defeated the boss.

"Come to think of it, Skati Spillof is also someone close to you. At this point, after so many coincidences, I find myself wondering why your older brother cannot see it."

Because the center of this world is Reisir.

Not me.

Valtraus never even appeared in the original story, much less became involved with Reisir.

There was no mystery there worth discussing.

Instead, I focused on the more important issue.

"Could it simply be that she was the only professor who reported it?"

"I think not. We required every professor to submit reports regarding the anomalous phenomenon. Additionally, under the pretext of conducting health evaluations afterward, we distributed self-assessment questionnaires asking about physical changes, hallucinations, and similar symptoms. Their responses were collected and examined."

"And the possibility that someone falsified their answers to conceal their ability to kill a Special monster—and thereby avoid responsibility for failing to intervene?"

"Absolutely none. At present, only those in this room know that only those who can see it are capable of killing a Special monster. If someone had seen it, they would have had no reason to hide the fact. On the contrary, they could have used it as an excuse, claiming they were confused by the strange thing floating before their eyes and therefore couldn't act."

"..."

Her reasoning was sound.

Which only made me more confused.

"Do not worry. Even if there are no other Awakened among the professors, that will not become grounds for avoiding punishment. Whether they could kill the monster or not, they could at least have bought time. Instead, they did nothing while a student was in danger. That is clear dereliction of duty. No excuses will be accepted."

That wasn't actually why I had been asking.

But since I couldn't explain my real reason, I simply went along with it.

"It was bad enough that they ostracized a fellow professor. Being forced to learn martial arts from people who were recognized as professors because of their military strength, yet abandoned students and protected only themselves in a moment of danger... it was extremely unpleasant. Hearing Your Royal Highness say so is reassuring."

"So your true objective isn't disciplinary action. You want dismissal."

"Is my life worth any less than that?"

"How could it be? This incident presents an excellent opportunity to remove individuals with questionable character and recruit fresh talent. To accomplish that, however, I will need authority over academy personnel reforms. I wonder whether the Young Master's father shares the same opinion."

Although Valhalla Academy belonged to the Imperial Family, Fjodora could not exercise personnel authority at her own discretion.

Too many royals wanted to place their own supporters within the Empire's most prestigious academy.

And when it comes to personnel reform, the person with the strongest voice is undoubtedly Hárðr.

As one of the Empire's Four Pillars, his political influence was immense.

And now he possessed an additional advantage:

He was the father of a child who had nearly died.

Naturally, the Princess was indirectly asking me to speak to Duke Austri on her behalf.

Does Fjodora really believe Hárðr would listen if I asked?

Apparently she genuinely believed the story I had told back in Chapter 151—that Hárðr had shown concern for me and encouraged me to rest after my ordeal.

Unfortunately, Hárðr had never cared particularly about his youngest son.

There was no guarantee he would listen to any request I made.

And there was another issue.

While Ragfrid had long been close to Fjodora, Valtraus maintained deep ties with the First Prince's faction.

Hárðr himself remained neutral in the struggle for succession.

Still, a father whose child had nearly died could hardly remain silent.

He would never throw away such a valuable opportunity to gain political leverage.

Therefore—

"Since he considers my life valuable, I imagine he would prefer dismissal over mere disciplinary action. Therefore, I believe he will support whoever advocates dismissal first and most strongly."

"You're telling this humble one to persuade him personally."

"Wouldn't it be easy for such a matter to be misinterpreted as political maneuvering if handled carelessly? There will be less controversy if Your Royal Highness openly persuades the parents in front of everyone."

—instead of promising to secure Hárðr's support, I quietly handed the responsibility back to Fjodora herself.