Chapter 38: Your Smile Is Your Armor

"Hum, hum-hum-hum, hum-hum."

Iluvia hummed a cheerful tune as she walked ahead of Roland, occasionally skipping a step and turning her head to check if he was still following, as if afraid he might run off.

Roland, of course, would not run away. Although the burly imperial guards had not accompanied them as they left the station, rejecting an invitation from an imperial princess was clearly not a wise decision. After all, he still had to attend the Royal Academy of Magic. While he might get entangled in political strife, as long as he remained a student of the Royal Academy, it wouldn't have too great an impact.

Founded amidst the smoke and fire of the Demon King War to specifically cultivate elite mages, the academy had always served as the empire's reservoir of talent. Whether they were officials in charge of local governance, rising stars in the military, or genius magi-tech engineers in the research institutes, the Royal Academy was a prolific source of talent. It had also long been regarded by the nobility, the upper echelons, and even the imperial family as a place to recruit such talent in advance.

However, following unnecessary sacrifices and deaths resulting from the internal power struggles of major factions, a tacit rule had eventually emerged: students were students, and they should not be subjected to excessive interference. If you were an official student of the Royal Academy, regardless of which faction you subjectively leaned toward, or even if you were already a member of one, as long as you had not yet graduated, even hostile factions would not actively seek to cause you trouble. This also benefited the various factions by allowing them to poach talent after students graduated.

Of course, the reason for this unspoken rule was also because the Royal Academy itself had grown over the years into a faction that could not be underestimated. Behind them stood the shadow of the Continental Historical Records Society. This colossal power, equal in stature to the Holy See, provided this premier institution of the Southern Continent with unimaginable support and resources.

This was the source of confidence that allowed Roland to ignore the political struggles within the capital and settle in for his studies. As long as he didn't proactively provoke other factions, no one dared to trouble him. At least, that was the promise Iluvia had made to him after he learned of her identity following the entrance examination—that she would never bring her own troubles upon him.

Roland remained skeptical of this.

"Hey, Roland, why aren't you saying anything?"

"What would you have me say, Your Highness?"

"Ugh... I told you, just call me by my name!"

Roland spread his small hands. "Alright, alright. Iluvia, what do you think I should say?"

"Anything is fine." Iluvia stopped and turned to look at him. "Why not tell me about what happened in Ryskand? I heard something happened there recently, didn't it?"

"There's nothing much to say. I imagine reports on those events will reach you soon enough, and they will certainly be more detailed than anything I could tell you."

Roland didn't seem very keen on recounting the events. The reason was simple: there were already too many eyes on him.

Iluvia led him onto a commercial street. It was crowded with people, and everywhere there were people who recognized her. Clearly, the locals of the capital were far more knowledgeable than an outsider like himself. Iluvia’s appearance was no secret to the residents of the capital. As soon as the two of them appeared on the street, countless curious gazes focused on Roland.

But... looking at Iluvia, the expressions in their eyes weren't just curious; they seemed to be filled with something more like... fear and disgust.

Roland didn't voice his confusion, choosing instead to quietly take note of it. Having made this discovery, he changed his tone. "Fine, I suppose there's no harm in telling you. Let's find a quiet place."

Pleased that Roland had agreed, Iluvia led him to a park in the center of the capital, one that spanned an entire city block. After finding a bench in a secluded corner, they sat down together.

"This will do. When I was little, I used to sneak away here all the time to play or read."

After sitting down, Iluvia maintained a certain distance from Roland, keeping to one side of the bench, her gloved hands resting on her lap. She lowered her head and stared at her hands.

The person who had been so enthusiastic since they first met had now gone quiet. It was much like the first time Roland had seen her. Only, back then, Iluvia had been draped in a cold, distant indifference, her face practically reading, "Don't bother me." Now, however, she seemed mostly melancholy and sentimental.

Roland glanced at her. This princess, who had unleashed such terrifying magic during the examination, could also be classified as a witch. Compared to Kalia, however, her abilities were more horrific to behold. Decay, rot, death—targets touched by her magic, whether living beings, tools, or weapons, would complete this process in nearly three seconds, turning into skeletons or scrap metal. If not for the limited range of her spells, his examination might not have been so difficult. But if he hadn't intervened, those factions that had used various means to target her innate magic in an attempt to kill her during the exam might have actually succeeded.

No matter how powerful a spell might be, it only works if it hits the enemy.

"Roland, why aren't you starting?" Iluvia looked up at him.

"I just feel that since returning here, you've become more like the person I met for the first time."

"Do you like that?"

"It feels more authentic." Roland paused to deliberate before continuing. "Compared to a princess who forces herself to act happy and overbearing in front of me, the current you is more like the 'Iluvia' I know, rather than Princess Iluvia."

Iluvia chuckled softly behind her hand, then leaned back on the bench, her gaze drifting toward the clouds floating in the sky. "You noticed, didn't you? The way the citizens look at me?"

"Yes."

"Don't you... have anything you want to ask?"

"No. I don't have a hobby of digging into other people's pasts. Of course, if the other person offers, I'm more than happy to listen."

Iluvia continued to watch the clouds dotting the blue sky, lost in thought. "...Is that so? But you'll always hear about it from others eventually."

"Then do you want me to know?" Roland laughed.

"Of course not," Iluvia replied decisively. "But that's not something I can stop."

"So, do you still want to hear the story?"

"No need. I already know everything about Ryskand." Iluvia said something completely different from before. "Forget the story... just stay here with me for a while. Just a little longer. Also... after leaving the capital, did you ever think about me?"

The slightly lonely tone made it impossible for Roland to answer as decisively as he had at the beginning. After some hesitation, he finally said, "Alright, I thought about you once or twice when things went wrong in Ryskand."

Thinking to himself that she was troublesome and difficult to understand—that counts as thinking about her, right?

"Humph, I knew you were lying!" Iluvia turned her head to look at Roland, chuckling. "Were you thinking that it would have been better if I were there?"

"...Yes!"

That, honestly, was not true. But of course, Roland could not say what he truly thought at a time like this.