In a Civilized Manner

Edris slept extra well that day, although he was the only one who did.

With the news of an assassination at the royal palace spreading like wildfire, the rest of the kingdom was in utter chaos.

The Crown Prince had suppressed the rumours about the Queen's involvement in the incident and imposed a confidential agreement upon all the guests who attended the banquet.

As a result of this event, the Crown Prince and the Zacriya Kingdom's territorial leaders have been occupied with work.

Although Edris was mentally conscious, he kept his eyes closed. He felt comfortable under the blankets and laid dormant, hoping to drift back to sleep.

However, someone sniffled frequently beside him, and he didn't have to open his eyes to know it was the young beast tamer, Celio Moon.

— I know you're awake.

Hearing Ace's familiar deep voice echoing in his head, Edris let out an inward sigh as he opened his eyes.

As he adjusted to the colour-saturated room, what confronted him was an unfamiliar but extravagant setting.

Contrary to his initial expectations, this wasn't Mosky Inn.

He realized that after he "fainted," Ace had left him at the banquet hall instead of teleporting him back to the inn.

That damn ball of pink.

Upon seeing the man's grey eyes flutter open, Celio immediately shot up from his seat.

Wiping his puffy eyes, he grabbed both of Edris's hands. His eagerness poured over Edris like a bucket of ice water, clearing his mind immediately. It was then that Edris finally took notice of his surroundings.

Marbled floor, gold-lined blanket, a portrait of a redhead hung across the wall—only one location corresponded to this scene.

Before Edris could stop him, the beast tamer was already shouting with excitement.

"Master, you're awake!" Celio's clear voice echoed throughout the spacious room like a cymbal.

Edris cleared his throat, causing Celio to turn to him immediately.

"Master, are you still unwell? Should I get you a cup of milk? Tea? Wine?"

"...Milk is fine," Edris said after a second, then smiled. "And sugar. Thank you."

Preferably a bowl of sugar, so he could take as much as he liked—though he didn't state the last part out loud.

Upon hearing his mission, Celio immediately nodded as he moved towards the exit. As he reached for the door handle, it swung open simultaneously as a redhead rushed into the room.

With his usual silky hair messily tied behind his ears, Dolan Zacriya looked towards the bed where Edris was lying. When their eyes met, the Crown Prince exhaled in relief.

He seemed genuinely happy to see Edris, which gave the latter an ominous feeling.

"Your Highness," Edris pulled himself up to greet him, only to be pushed back against the pillow.

He blinked twice.

"No need for such trivial greetings," Dolan said. “How are you feeling?"

"Better than ever," he replied honestly, head sunk into the soft cushion. "How long was I out for?"

"Half a day. Are you sure you're feeling better?"

At Dolan Zacriya's second time asking, Edris nodded with a gentle smile. "I am fine, Your Highness. It is an honour to be under your worry."

Ignoring Dolan's complicated expression, he then asked out of pure formality, "Is Her Majesty doing alright?"

"The healing priest said that the Queen was possessed by dark magic." Dolan lowered his head. "Thanks to you, most of the magic was already expelled, so it was easier to treat her condition. She's currently resting in the palace."

"That's good to hear," Edris said. "And the guests?"

"Thanks to you and the other Awakeneds, we could minimize the number of deaths. But there were quite a few injured.

"The assassination was well planned. Before acting, they knocked out the palace guards outside the banquet hall and somehow disabled the mana barrier, which was why they managed to infiltrate the palace so smoothly."

At Dolan Zacriya's recount of the situation, Edris started to think.

Now that the incident was over, he had time to consider the motives behind the assassination.

The infiltrators managed to push past the royal palace security and sneak in without anyone noticing, which meant they had both a thorough plan and a skilled director.

Also, if even Ace didn't detect their presence until the last moment, they must be quite impressive.

When the Queen appeared at the beginning of the banquet, Ace had told Edris that she was using disguise magic.

Was their plan to assassinate the King during the uproar? If so, since when did the Queen become possessed?

Amidst his various trails of thoughts, Edris's expression unknowingly turned grave. Dolan, upon seeing the traveller's stern look, pursed his lips into a line.

Other than the deaths of three nobles, the most injured person was no other than the man lying before him.

Yet despite his injuries, the first thing Edris asked him when he entered the room was the conditions of others. He wasn't even a citizen of the Zacriya Kingdom, yet he didn't hesitate one bit to risk his life for its people.

What an astounding individual.

Dolan silently affirmed this thought in his head, then turned to the dark-haired man.

"Sir Edris, there is something I must confirm with you." With a hesitant tone, Dolan took in Edris's puzzled expression before continuing. The room was silent as the Crown Prince uttered the following words:

"Are you, perhaps… a prophet?"

***

In another room in the royal palace, the King of Zacriya sat beside the sleeping Queen, his face buried in his hands.

In the bed beside the Queen lay the unconscious first prince, Treo Zacriya.

The King, Drolis Zacriya, sat with solemnity and was deep in thought for a long time. A thin mist filled the room, wafting in the incense of smoky lavender.

He was thinking about the foreign traveller at the banquet, the man who had saved him from the hands of the possessed Queen.

Traveller Edris.

He was almost certain that this young foreigner had some special connections with the kingdom's founder.

He suspected that he was the reincarnation of Toren Zacriya himself!

Drolis Zacriya shot up from his seat at this audacious thought, causing the chair to fall behind him. Immediately following his action, a guard's voice echoed outside the room.

"Your Majesty, is everything alright?!"

"...Yes," he gave a curt response, then sat back down.

Tapping the rims of the chair, the King recalled the situation at the time.

From the reports of nobles and witnesses present at the banquet, the traveller had used teleportation magic to transport himself across the banquet hall. Without expertise or years of accumulated knowledge on mana, there was no way for him to create a teleportation circle on the spot. All by himself, too.

Unless one was a talented archmage like Magnus Vyris, teleportation was only doable by a collaboration of a mage brigade, after precise calculations and planning days before its actual execution.

It was also more common for the executor of the skill to teleport others than themselves, as someone needed to maintain the circle as the teleportation proceeded.

However, he had witnessed with his own eyes that the traveller—looking to only be in his twenties—had teleported himself in the spur of the moment, within the snap of a finger.

The last person to achieve such feats was the grand mage in the Harkness family from centuries ago.

Prior to the banquet, Drolis Zacriya had vaguely heard about the presence of a traveller from the mouth of his second son.

This young man's appearance had caused a splash in the capital. In just the short span of a month, he had won the Wulin Tournament, saved them from assassination, and made a name for himself throughout the kingdom.

But amidst all his deeds, what stuck out to Drolis Zacriya the most was Edris's pale appearance and gentle smile.

There was something… saintly about his presence, something that Drolis Zacriya couldn't quite pin his finger on.

Even when he was stabbed, the traveller's smile was eerily out of place. Unlike a smile for his age, it was a smile that showed the vicissitudes of life and time.

From the Crown Prince's accounts, the traveller had chosen the Harkness Notebook as his reward despite not being a mage himself, which made it all the more suspicious.

The Harkness Notebook was the accumulating experiences of the Harkness Family and was inspired by the deeds of Drolis's ancestor: Toren Zacriya.

Having lived for over two hundred years, Toren Zacriya was said to have become an angel after his death, silently preserving peace upon the kingdom and its people.

Silently gazing toward his unconscious wife and son, Drolis Zacriya released a heavy sigh.

"Something big is going to happen."

***

Prophets.

Considered mythical beings, prophets were divine messengers of the higher realms. Legends had it that beyond the Mortal Realm, other spaces existed where beings like prophets, angels and demons dwelled.

Unlike angels, prophets could be both inherent at birth or a pursued status. Legend had it that those who attain the highest level of mana development receive the right to ascend beyond the Mortal Realm—although no one had personally witnessed such phenomenons.

In the context of humanity, prophets were considered demigods—human beings closest to deities.

According to various historical speculations, Toren Zacriya had been reborn as a prophet after his death. Others claimed that he became an angel.

Naturally, these were unproven stories.

With these thoughts in mind, Edris listened with a blank expression at the Crown Prince's question.

Upon witnessing the traveller's silence, Dolan took that as an affirmative response, and his heart swelled with complicated emotions.

"I know best not to ask questions I should not know. Therefore I will keep my curiosity still," he said solemnly. "Instead, I would like to thank you sincerely for your help. Both towards myself, my father, and the guests at the banquet."

Normally, Edris would have debunked Dolan Zacriya's speculations on the spot, but he couldn't help but be amused at the way the Crown Prince somehow managed to make sense of this ridiculous misunderstanding.

"Your Highness." Instead of refuting his words, Edris put up a smile. "What makes you think that way?"

"Father, I mean, the King played a part in inspiring these speculations," Dolan said with a cough. "But rest assured, I would never intentionally dig into your background, especially when we, the Zacriyas, are deeply indebted to your help.

"Your capabilities of mana manipulation are simply outstanding. Even if you are not a prophet, that does not alter the fact that, even as a foreigner, you've provided immense aid to our kingdom.

"It would be only right for you to receive compensation for your honourable deeds."

While Dolan Zacriya expressed his appreciation, a single thought was in Edris's head.

What a silver-tongued man.

The Crown Prince was easily one of the most eloquent speakers he knew.

Perhaps it was due to his noble upbringing, but he had a way of bringing across a point without flustering the other side.

"My actions aren’t intended for compensation," Edris bowed his head slightly, ignoring Ace's echoing scoff in his head. "But if you insist."

"Then it is settled!" Dolan exhaled in relief at the traveller's compliance. "Once you get better, I will arrange a recognition ceremony immediately. In consideration of your contributions, I think a Category One medal is only deserving."

Of the kingdom's recognition awards, Category One was considered one of the highest national honours.

Hm? What did he say?

Category One medal?

Recognition ceremony?

I must have heard incorrectly.

If it weren't for his skilful expression management, Edris would have frowned right there.

When the Crown Prince offered rewards, Edris thought they would be monetary compensation, or perhaps other mana items he could feed to Ace.

But a medal?

A Category One medal?

Not only was the recognition utterly useless, it might as well be an unspoken moral contract before the millions of citizens in the Zacriya Kingdom.

Accepting this so-called "reward" would be equivalent to affirming his participation in future problems concerning the kingdom.

"Your Highness," Edris said calmly, "Though I appreciate your kindness, I wish not to be bound by such recognitions. I am only performing my duties as a pursuer of peace."

At Dolan Zacriya's apparent confusion, Edris expressed his honest thoughts.

"I only wish to live comfortably."

"Pardon me?" Dolan blinked twice. If anyone else were standing before him, they would have eagerly accepted the reward and got onto their knees in gratitude.

However, the traveller saw his offer as not only uncomfortable but also a burden?

Dolan let out a laugh, brushing his red hair from his forehead.

"You are truly an intriguing person."

"You flatter me," said Edris, still aghast at the Crown Prince's offer. He then firmly shook his head. "Also, I am not a prophet. I am only a traveller. An average, typical, mundane human being."

Having seen what Dolan Zacriya was capable of, Edris decided to cut short the mummery before it blew out of proportion.

If it were anyone else, they would have thought Edris was speaking out of humbleness. However, Dolan Zacriya had to believe it after seeing the traveller's sincere gaze.

"I understand," he said, this time with a tinge of amusement. "If you do not want recognition, I will not force it upon you. However, please at least accept the monetary compensation for your injuries. Consider it from a friend."

"Well. If you insist." Edris reluctantly smiled.

"Master!" The door flung open, revealing Celio with a tray of cookies and milk. "I've got what you asked for!"

Giving the servant a general acknowledgement, he then greeted the Crown Prince before hurriedly approaching the bedside.

Holding the cup in his hands, Edris took a sip of the milk, embracing its creamy sweetness in his mouth. Although he had just woken up from a long sleep, he was already starting to feel exhausted once more.

Eyeing the smiling Crown Prince and the young beast tamer, Edris sighed inwardly as he took another gulp, pushing the negative thoughts to the back of his head,

Little did he know, at the same time as he was enjoying his drink, a rumour was sweeping across the kingdom.

A rumour about a prophet's descent.