Feuille has a peculiar form of governance. The monarch was still in power, but the extent of said power was limited sometime after the Confluence Summit. I never got to the part where it detailed why that happened exactly, as the two hours time limit Alicia had set finally ran out.

  But, I managed to read was the general gist of the structure. Gone were the days where only the king and nobility were the only ones who could pass a new law, the commoners had demanded for their voices to be heard and the rulers now had to share the table with chosen representatives. Specifically a set of people divided into three different interest groups. That being the military, the Traders' Guild, and the Artists' Guild.

  And that was really all I could gathered in the allotted time. I conveyed them all to her, and she listened quietly and intently as if this was anything new for her.

  "...That's about it from me."

  "I understand that you came from a completely different continent, but I didn't expect that you needed to start from the basics."

  She closed the book before her and fell into silent contemplation. Was it disappointment, perhaps? It seemed like she was genuinely anticipating to gain some measure of help, only to hear what she had most likely seen often throughout her life.

  "Alright then... It's time to fulfill my end of the bargain. So what would you like to know?"

  "First and foremost, you don't mind me asking about the crown prince, do you?"

  Her eyes twitched the moment I mentioned that title. Biting down her lip to stifle any undesirable words from slipping out, mind teetering on the fine line between the truth and her own biased takes.

  "Which part? There's a lot anyone could say about him after all."

  "True, but there's surely something only you would know as someone who's engaged to him," my words raised some suspicion in her and I spoke quickly to defuse it. "Ah, of course nothing malicious or private. To narrow it down... I wanna know his stance on this faction war the school had been plunged into."

  "If you've already heard of it before, I assume you understand the basics at least? And I can tell that you already have an inkling of an idea about the intentions behind it, since you've just summarized it to me."

  "It's a model of the real deal, isn't it?"

  Like a bunch of children trying to imitate the adults. Except that, from the tone Abby used to describe it, it went beyond some fun roleplay and more like these kids were actually trying to drag actual politics into it.

  "At least you see it for what it actually is," she forced a chuckle. "So what's more for me to say about him? He's just one person of a larger problem."

  "No, I wanna know why the Fraternity of Mystic Arts exactly."

  The other clubs which Abby had warned me about drew clear parallels to the official factions which made up the parliament. The exception being the Student Press—which I assume was a third-party that simply got roped into it—and the one I had mentioned to her.

  "Ah, of course you wouldn't know..." she paused and slid the book across the table towards me. The same book I wanted to read earlier before she got to it first, the one about the history of magic in Feuille. "Read the title for chapter six."

  I flashed a skeptical look at her before doing as she told. Opening the table of contents and reading aloud...

  "The nobility and their hold over magic."

  "Even though nowadays almost anyone can learn magic, that culture of favoring nobility within the field of mystic arts persists. And I wonder what sort of people the fraternity attracts..." She rolled her eyes while saying the last part in mock ignorance.

  "The aristocrats... It's only natural that he'd gravitate towards them."

  "Hey, don't lump all of us with those dorks! And his highness is the type that is blind to everyone's status, even if he may say otherwise," she said rather defensively. Not certain whether it came from protecting her own honor or his. "If anything, it's the fraternity that needed him..."

  It was a few minutes approaching six, and the sun had completely set. The city in the distance emitted a gentle light amidst the darkness. I stared at it aimlessly while sitting on a tree branch, trying to distract myself from the biting cold winds that brushed against my cheeks.

  After waiting for a while now, the wristband I wore around my left wrist finally buzzed. I pulled back the sleeve of my coat to expose the small metal piece on the inside of my wrist holding the entire thing in shape. The small slit in the middle flickered before projecting a holographic feed from the drone that I've sent towards the manor at the end of this hillside road.

  It showed two figures by a fireplace. One was sitting on the leather chair, basking in the warmth, while the other paced in front of flame back and forth. The latter was also the one leading the conversation between the two.

  "The meeting is due in two days, how many of our brothers and sisters are going to be present?"

  "Including us, an estimate of five representatives, William."

  William cursed loudly at the news while the other man didn't seem too distraught by it. Even sitting back more comfortably while snacking on some grapes that had been prepared on the small table beside him.

  "Don't look so stressed, William. Our influence is steadily growing amongst the nobility. And though many still disappointingly dismiss our philosophy, most of us are starting to share a common sentiment around the commoners and their ever growing demands."

  "They've stripped our lands for their exhibit, produce tools that conjure cheap imitations of our sacred teachings," William ignored his reassurance and continued on with his rants. "Renaud, if we let them continue exerting power over us—"

  "And we won't," Renaud interjected in a calm demeanor. "We'll make sure to turn the conversation in our favor, won't we?"

  William stopped his pacing and scoffed at the man who was leisurely presenting his arguments as if it was a done deal.

  "You speak as if we lack opposition amongst the nobility. Have you forgotten about the Duvals? And the Marchals?"

  "Of course not," Renaud hissed at the mention of those two families, his calm persona faltered for a while before he quickly recomposed himself. Even I was a bit taken aback when the latter was mentioned. "But our short-term goals must remain realistic. The best we can hope for is to delay the new bill from being passed."

  "Until we penetrate the royal family, isn't that correct?"

  Renaud simply chuckled and poured himself a bottle of wine, finishing the entire glass in one gulp. He tried to offer one to William for a toast, but he refused.

  "Patient my friend. Nothing good ever comes out from rushing things. Have a little faith in the chosen one. For now though," Renaud paused to look at the time. "We have a dinner to attend."

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  They both made their way out of the room and I moved the drone closer to the manor's gateway. Sure enough, a horse-drawn carriage was seen leaving the premises not long after.

  If my estimate is correct, I should have around ten minutes—

  "Pfft... You pulled that number out of your ass, didn't you?"

  "For your information, I actually timed how long it took for the drone to arrive at the manor," I answered matter-of-factly without peeling my eyes away from the view in front of me. But in the corner of my eyes I could see her short, dainty legs dangling and kicking over the edge of the branch. "And you're telling me I'm wrong?"

  "Just listen..."

  The tremors from hooves hammering against the gravel road, the slight creak from the wooden wheels as they turned and jumped on the uneven road; those sounds were getting louder by the second. The rhythm—and not to mention the speed in which they were approaching—was unnatural.

  I stood and turned around to face the road. Putting on my goggles and patiently anticipating the first sign of their arrival. The carriage then finally appeared from the other side of the mountain slope as they made a sharp turn around it. The two horses and coachman might appeared normal to the naked eye, but their mana veins spoke of their artificiality.

  It was simple, arranged way too neatly, and clearly made for the purpose of basic actions on certain limbs and other body parts. The mana they emitted was sparse, but persisted long enough for me to catch a whiff as they were carried by the wind. And all three shared the same profile: that slightly earthy morning dew smell.

  Golems...

  "Geez, what a cheapskate."

  "Funnily enough, buying the real deal would actually cost him less money," I added.

  But in all seriousness, this makes it much easier for me.

  "Oh really?" she asked.

  The carriage suddenly stopped right before the tree I had climbed on. And all three golems eerily snapped their heads towards me, and were locked in that position. Just staring, and nothing else.

  Really wish I could take that back. Should've known better than to jinxed myself. But I mean come on! No one could've predicted Renaud to be that paranoid to add advance optics to a golem.

  "Whoever you are, come down and properly introduce yourself," William called out as he stepped out of the carriage. "Don't you know it's rude not to?"

  I let out a sigh and made a silent reminder to demand the old hag for a bonus after this. Before jumping down into the bushes to cushion my fall. Then walked before them while trying to pat away all the dried leaves and twigs that clung onto my clothes.

  "Are you supposed to be an assassin?" he tried to stifle a laugh at my unruly appearance. "Do forgive me, but all that had come after my life tend to be a bit more... distinguish."

  "And what had that done for them exactly? I'm guessing since you're still alive, they didn't exactly do a good job now, did they?"

  "They've tried," he chuckled. But underneath, his mana had begun to flare up. Creating small tremors in the air, the feeling of being pricked by tiny needles as the mana he exude made contact with skin. It was pure killing intent. "But much like you, they underestimated the powers of the mystic art—!"

  The deafening bang from my handgun cut his sentence and life short. I had quickly reached for it the second he made his intentions clear. Not that I had expected it to go any other way, Thought we could have a fun little banter before I put a bullet through his head.

  "Fastest hands throughout the known multiverse baby," I said while blowing the smoke that came out of the barrel. "Never doubt me."

  "You really took her words to heart, didn't you?"

  "I'm just making it clear—"

  We stopped our conversation as I noticed the golems started to twitch. The coachman pulled out a knife and cut the straps which tethered the horses to the carriage. Finally freed, the two horse golems immediately charged ahead towards me.

  I quickly dodged to the side and then again as the coachman jumped at me with knife in hand. It held the knife in reverse grip above its head, tried to plunge it into my chest but I grabbed a hold of its wrist and held it in place.

  With great effort, mind you, because it had super strength uncommon for a golem this size. He really went above and beyond in making these bastards.

  Behind me, I could hear the horses skidding to a halt. I turned my head to the side to catch a brief glance. They turned and was already making their way back, picking up speed as they charged straight at me.

  I let go of it's wrist and stepped aside to avoid the knife. The horses closed the distance and ran past me, ramming the coachman instead. The two crashed into one another, and their clay bodies smashed together upon impact to the point where their shape were barely distinguishable. With the front of half of the horse and the coachman's torso being turned to mush.

  The horse's core was destroyed in the collision, but the coachman's miraculously remained intact. Thus it attempted to fuse their broken clay bodies together, forming a centaur it seemed. I shot my handgun in hopes of destroying the remaining core, but the pliable clay absorbed the bullet's impact and stopped its advance before it could do so.

  "Save your bullets," Renaud said as he finally stepped out of the carriage. "Your firearms won't work on my creations, boy."

  With a flick of his wrists, the newly formed centaur and remaining horse golem charged towards me. While he paid the battle no mind and moved over to his fallen comrade, kneeling down over the corpse to close its eyes.

  "You just had to come here without resupplying..." she playfully chided as her small frame skipped and passed through the small gap in-between the golems.

  "Cut me some slack," I replied while dodging and weaving around the barrage of attacks. "You know Luka's out on one of his random trips."

  The centaur can freely manipulate the shape of its arms, often molding the clay into long clubs to pommel me with. But as it swung its left arm, it failed to notice the horse beside him trying to butt his head. And it's club arms wind up hitting its partner instead.

  I ran to create some distance, but the centaur didn't give chase. It stay rooted to the spot and extended its arms, shooting clay projectiles out of them. The horse however, ran past it towards me, bumping against one another and throwing its aim off.

  Those small moments where they collide or accidentally struck one another happened so frequently here and there that it couldn't be chalked off as a simple mistake.

  For as advanced as their optics were, it seemed that they could only distinguish an enemy and not one of their own. And that singular flaw in their design was exactly what I've been searching for.

  I waited for the horse to come at me, then managed to grab a hold of its saddle as it got closed enough and climbed on its back. Immediately after, it lowered its head and kicked hindquarters up violently attempting to throw me off. I held on for as long as I could, and wouldn't you know it, the centaur came after failing to land a clean shot.

  One of its arms transformed into a massive hammer and brought it down. I let myself get thrown off at the last second and narrowly dodged the attack, while the horse was crushed into a shapeless lump of clay.

  Perhaps it was a part of its command, but it absorbed the clay into its own body just as it had happened before when one of them was destroyed. The difference now being there was no traces of magic left in that pile, not a single strand of mana vein. And what the centaur had was not enough to sustain the added mass.

  Thus the newest form it took was a mass trying to take shape, but only kept falling apart. Immobile, pretty much useless, but still indestructible with the stuff I had on hand.

  "What!? You useless heap of—"

  Renaud shouted in anger, his temper clouded his rationality. Making him forgot temporarily that his would-be killer was still alive and kicking. The moment he did, his words died in his throat, eyes shot wide in panic. No trace of his nonchalantly confident self.

  He raised his arms to cast a spell, but I landed a clean shot with my handgun before the magic circle could even be conjured. The bullet pierced a hold through the palm of his hand before getting lodged in his chest. He screamed in pain and staggered back until he was cornered against the carriage.

  The bullet should've narrowly missed the heart and maybe grazed the lungs just a little, but those were never my intended targets.

  He tried to conjure another spell but...

  "My magic! How could this—!? Don't tell me..." his voice trembled in anguish, as if this took precedence over his own life. As he slowly came to terms with the destruction of his mana core, his expression shuffled through a myriad of emotions. Disbelief, anger, refusal...

  ...amusement.

  "I don't know if I'm just unlucky or if those dead eyes of yours can see something nobody else can," he chuckled at himself. Which gradually died down to a pained whisper. "Tell me, who sent you?"

  "Does it matter?"

  "Perhaps not. But you've stripped me of my magic—my very being—and I'll die not as a mage, but as something lesser than even those lowly commoners that I loathe. So the least you could spare are the names of the ones behind this, so that I may curse them for all eternity in the afterlife."

  "Nobody did," I answered flatly. He looked up in disbelief, and saw the barrel of my handgun already trained to his head. "It's nothing personal. I just know your death would fetch a high price for some people."

  "Heh... So I'm nothing more than a bargaining chi—"

  bang!

  A bullet was lodged in the mage's head before he could even finish his sentence, or take his last breath. Though I suppose I couldn't call him that now, said so himself.

  I couldn't help but chuckle at that reminder. He had conducted himself in a leisurely fashion, so assured of his own victory and that hubris blinded him to the glaring threat before him until it was too late.

  So he died unceremoniously, in a dark and isolated road where nobody saw his struggle, his anguish. To the ones that would come across this scene in the near future, they'll find him and his friend as nothing more than a casualty of some freak accident. I'd make sure of that.

  With a sigh, I moved to collect what I came here for and arranged "the set", so to speak, before making my way to the next stop.