Surviving the Magic Academy With Just Intelligence Stats-Chapter 115 : Change Of Plans (fixed)

The growing commotion at Lumina's entrance intensified as word spread that the Rothschild heir had arrived. Commoners and merchants alike crowded forward, eager to catch a glimpse of nobility from one of the kingdom's most powerful families. The royal knights formed a protective perimeter, their armored forms creating a barrier between the curious masses and the ornate carriage bearing the golden hourglass emblem.

"Please step back! Make way!" commanded a knight with practiced authority, gently but firmly pushing back against the pressing throng.

Amid the bustling crowd, a solitary figure stood apart. Cloaked entirely in dark clothing that obscured both face and form, the individual observed the unfolding scene with calculated interest. No excitement animated their stance—only keen assessment, like a predator measuring prey. After several moments of silent observation, the figure retreated with deliberate steps, melting away from the gathering without drawing attention.

Once safely distanced from prying eyes, the mysterious observer withdrew a small crystal sphere from within the folds of their cloak. The orb pulsed with a faint inner light as slender fingers traced arcane patterns across its surface.

…

Thousands of miles away in the Xia Empire, Dragon sat alone in a dimly lit chamber. The sparse furnishings emphasized the room's utilitarian purpose—a place for strategy, not comfort. Banners bearing imperial symbols adorned the walls, silent witnesses to countless plots hatched within these walls.

The door burst open without warning as Rabbit rushed inside, her usual composure replaced by an urgency that immediately captured Dragon's attention.

"What happened?" Dragon asked sharply, his dragon mask betraying nothing of his thoughts.

Rabbit drew a quick breath. "One of our informants in the capital noticed something significant." Her voice remained steady despite her hurried entrance.

"What is it?" Dragon's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Apparently, the heir of House Rothschild was seen at the entrance to Lumina... without any guards." Rabbit extended a leather folder containing several documents. "The report just came through our emergency channel."

Dragon accepted the folder with deliberate movements, spreading its contents across the table. His expression remained inscrutable as he methodically examined each page, comparing details against his extensive mental repository of intelligence.

"What do you think?" Rabbit ventured after moments of silence. "Could it be a trap?"

Dragon continued his assessment before finally looking up. "Probably not. Our plan hasn't been leaked yet." His confidence carried the weight of decades of espionage work.

Rabbit nodded, accepting his judgment without hesitation. If anyone else had dismissed such concerns so readily, she would have questioned their reasoning. But this was Dragon—the empire's premier spymaster whose instincts had proven uncannily accurate for over twenty years.

Still, one aspect troubled her. "Maybe the informant was mistaken. After all, there's no way the Rothschild heir would travel without guards." The very idea contradicted everything they knew about noble security protocols.

Dragon continued studying the intelligence before responding thoughtfully. "Not necessarily."

"What do you mean?" Rabbit's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I've heard the Rothschild heir has spent their entire life confined to their estate," Dragon explained, leaning back in his chair. "Now that they've ventured outside, they must be eager to experience the world firsthand."

"But isn't he already outside at the academy?" Rabbit asked, genuinely perplexed.

Dragon laughed, the rare sound filling the austere chamber. "Hahaha! How could you understand a child's feelings?" His eyes crinkled with unexpected mirth. "To someone raised in isolation, even the academy would feel like another prison—just with different walls."

He folded his hands contemplatively. "Perhaps that's why he decided to visit the capital... to see the real outside world without constraints."

Rabbit persisted with her logical assessment. "Then why travel without guards? I'm certain Friedrich wouldn't object if his son merely wished to see the capital."

Dragon smiled knowingly. "For someone in the heir's position, guards would be a constant reminder of their noble status—a barrier between them and the 'normal' life they seek to experience." He fixed Rabbit with an amused glance. "Haven't you read those stories about princesses escaping their castles to live among commoners?"

Rabbit's practical nature asserted itself. "Isn't that just stupid?" she asked bluntly.

Dragon chuckled again. "Well, that's true." His expression suddenly shifted, all traces of humor vanishing as his eyes hardened with predatory focus. "Change of plans."

The atmosphere in the room transformed instantly.

"We won't be capturing just the princess," he declared, his voice dropping to a dangerous timbre. "We'll be capturing the prince too."

…

The grand throne room of the royal palace echoed with silence as King Alexander sat upon his ornate seat of power. Sunlight streamed through tall stained-glass windows, casting prismatic patterns across the marble floor where Sir Roland knelt in formal deference. The knight's armor gleamed in the colored light, his posture rigid as he awaited the king's response to his report.

King Alexander stroked his trimmed beard thoughtfully, his brow furrowed with concern. The news of the Rothschild heir appearing at the capital's gates without a proper escort had sent ripples of unease through the court. His mind raced through possibilities—was this some elaborate scheme by the Rothschild family? A trap to create an incident that could be blamed on the crown?

But as quickly as the suspicions arose, the king dismissed them. Friedrich Rothschild, for all his power and ambition, wasn't one for such underhanded tactics. The man was called the "Golden-Eyed Tyrant" not for deceit, but for his direct and overwhelming approach to challenges.

"More likely the boy's own idea," Alexander murmured to himself, a weary sigh escaping his lips.

The thought of youthful impulsiveness brought his own children to mind. His gaze drifted momentarily to the royal family portrait hanging on the wall—captured in oils and preserved in gilded frames were the faces of princes and a princess who had, more than once, caused diplomatic incidents through their well-intentioned but poorly considered actions.

These children truly don't understand how their simple actions could cascade into political crises, he thought resignedly.

Still, there was little to be done now. The boy simply wanted to experience the world beyond his sheltered upbringing; Alexander could understand that impulse well enough. Since the kid had said that he didn't want many guards, the king decided to fulfill his wish. It was just a child wanting to see the world, so he'd honor that request. He could simply assign some shadow guards to tail them in secret. The Rothschild heir should be fairly safe that way.

"Bring the princess," the king commanded suddenly, addressing the livery-clad servant standing attentively at his right hand.

The servant's eyes widened momentarily in surprise before he quickly schooled his features back to professional neutrality. With a deep bow, he backed away from the throne and hastened from the chamber.

Sir Roland watched the servant's departure with growing curiosity. The princess? The choice was unexpected—and potentially problematic. The princess's reputation was well-known throughout the palace and beyond.

Unlike the demure, refined ladies that typified royal daughters across the continent, the princess had eschewed traditional feminine pursuits from her earliest years. When other princesses were learning needlepoint and proper tea service, she had been found in the training yards, sword in hand, demanding instruction from bewildered knights. By an astonishing age of five, she had already begun formal knight training—an unprecedented deviation from royal protocol that had scandalized the court.

Her martial prowess had only grown more formidable with time. At merely ten years of age, she had defeated a knight captain in open combat, a feat that had earned her both admiration and wariness from the royal guard. When the king had attempted to arrange a marriage between her and a duke's son—as was expected for royal alliances—she had promptly challenged her would-be fiancé to combat and beaten him thoroughly, declaring she would never marry a "weakling."

After several similar incidents, the king had apparently abandoned attempts to secure her a husband. None of the suitable noble sons seemed capable of meeting her extraordinary standards, and those few who might have stood a chance wisely declined the opportunity to risk public humiliation.

Still, Sir Roland reasoned, she might indeed be perfect for this particular task. The Rothschild heir had specifically requested a single guard, and few in the kingdom could provide better protection than the martial princess. The true question was whether she would accept such an assignment, as she typically disdained any duty that didn't involve combat or adventure.

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The heavy doors swung open once more, admitting the servant who now trailed slightly behind a young woman whose stride carried the confident purpose of a seasoned warrior rather than the measured grace expected of royalty. Her training leathers, worn beneath a minimal ceremonial cape bearing the royal crest, spoke volumes of her priorities.

"What do you want?" she demanded without preamble, addressing her father with a directness that would have been considered shocking from anyone else. Yet no one in the chamber showed surprise at her manner—they had long since grown accustomed to her unconventional approach to royal protocol.

King Alexander ignored her disrespectful tone entirely, continuing as though she had offered a proper formal greeting. "I have a task for you," he stated evenly.

The princess's expression immediately transformed, a gleam of anticipation lighting her eyes. "Finally," she breathed, relief evident in her posture. "Staying here is too suffocating." Her hand drifted unconsciously to the sword at her hip. "Who is it? The mountain bandits have been getting wild recently."

Her excitement visibly mounted as she continued without pause, "Or is it those wolves from the eastern forest?" Each suggestion grew more animated than the last as her imagination raced ahead. "Wait, could it be a dungeon break?" This final possibility was offered with undisguised eagerness, her eyes practically sparkling at the prospect of genuine danger.

Before she could spiral further into increasingly elaborate scenarios, the king raised his hand, commanding silence. "I want you to guard someone," he stated plainly.

The room fell so utterly silent that the distant sounds of palace activity seemed to intrude upon the moment. The princess's expression froze, then shifted through confusion to disbelief.

"What?"