There were so many things that could go wrong for Noah if his secret was exposed.
Nefarious Arakners could use him as an experiment, curious about the merging of two souls in one body. After all, even though this world had the presence of mana, it also had the culture of science and technology.
There were many organizations solely dedicated to research. In many ways, the research field of this world was even more broad than Noah's previous world.
Noah could see himself getting dissected by many Arkaner scientists after learning about his otherworldly existence.
Or worse, his own royal father might deem him an unnatural presence—an invader who had devoured the soul of his true newborn son—and kill him with his own hands.
Even worse were the possibilities of being taken by demonic Arakners, who might believe he was the otherworldly demon overlord they had been waiting for—an ancient being who had successfully taken over a child's body.
If that happened, the entire world might turn against him.
And so, Noah had kept to himself. The royal palace was his fortress. He ventured out into the capital only on formal occasions, accompanied by layers of guards and protocol.
Even within the palace, his circle was tight—his maids, his royal father, and a few trusted retainers. As much as possible, he kept his distance from his half-siblings, avoiding unnecessary attention or interactions.
But time—and knowledge—had softened his fears.
In the quiet hours spent in the royal library, Noah had learned that not all Arakners were gods among men. While they were indeed powerful compared to ordinary mortals, they too had limits.
Becoming an Arakner required innate talent and harsh training. Only a handful among thousands could truly command mana or Arkana as this world liked to call it.
There might not even be an Arakner in Ainheaven who has the sensitivity or strength to perceive something as subtle and complex as a mismatched soul.
Most Arakners in the kingdom were First or Second Circle wielders— only slightly stronger than regular mortals. They were nowhere near powerful enough to detect the truth about him.
In the end, he realized that he had been too cautious. Too afraid.
Still, it was better safe than to be sorry, he consoled himself.
And so, after much reflection, Noah decided it was time to stop hiding. He couldn't afford to isolate himself forever. He needed to know more—about the world, about Arakners, and about how he could become one himself.
Why?
Because he remembered the blinding lights.
The former army doc didn't want to die on someone's whim in his second life. He didn't want to feel helpless under such situations if they really came knocking on his door from nowhere.
So when Emeri insisted he attend the gala, Noah didn't refuse. It was also an opportunity. Tonight, he would meet nobles, influential guests, and maybe even young Arakners.
He was still a child in everyone's eyes—but a curious child. So his efforts to ask questions about various things only came across as something natural.
He would learn what he could, ask innocent questions, and gather knowledge while keeping his secrets locked deep within.
***
After a few hours.
The hall slowly quieted down as a well-dressed man stepped onto the raised platform. He was tall, with silver-streaked hair, and wore a deep blue coat lined with silver threads.
A warm smile spread across his face as he raised his arms and looked over the guests.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said in a steady voice, "it brings me great joy to welcome you all to this evening's gathering. On behalf of House Dreyhall, I thank you for joining us in this gala. We are honored by your presence."
He paused, allowing the polite claps to settle before continuing. Then, with a respectful nod, he looked toward the group of royal children seated quite far away from each other.
"I especially thank the royal family for gracing us with their presence tonight. A warm welcome to His Highness, the 9th Prince Noah Ifrit, and His Highness, the 10th Prince Emeric Ifrit."
The spotlight moved slightly, drawing attention to Noah and Emeric. Noah gave a polite nod. Emeric lifted a hand in casual greeting, a prideful smile on his face.
The host continued. "As you may know, our kingdom has signed a peace treaty with Hainalia. But peace is never certain. Our soldiers must always be prepared. Recently, there have been troubling movements along the borders. Though we hope for peace, we must be ready to stand strong should the time come."
He looked around the hall, his expression firm but polite.
"Tonight's charity cause is for our brave army. To support their needs. To show that we, the people of Rankaal—its nobles, its merchants, and its Arkaners—stand behind our defenders."
A few servants then pulled a large wooden box on wheels and placed it in the middle of the hall. It looked heavy and sturdy. Beside it, a table was set with a stack of fine papers, an ink pen, and a small wooden seal box.
The host gestured toward it.
"All those who wish to donate, please step forward. Write the amount you wish to pledge and sign your name below it. Our notary here—" he gestured to a man dressed in gray robes standing beside the table "—will record the donation amount privately in his ledger. After this, he will seal your paper with the official stamp of House Dreyhall. The sealed letter will then be dropped into this box. The box will be sent to the army's command post here in the capital. From there, the army will collect your pledged amount directly from your home or business."
He added, "The ledger of all pledged donations will be sent to His Majesty, King Alexander Ifrit, upon his return to the capital."
People began moving forward one by one. Nobles. Rich merchants. A few famous Arkaners. They each stepped up, wrote on the paper, handed it to the notary, and dropped the sealed paper into the box.
Noah sat back and watched. He saw the host standing behind the notary, stealing glances at the ledger.
Though the host kept a smile on his face, his eyes looked troubled. His jaw was tight. It was clear he wasn't pleased with the numbers being written.
'Oh? It seems he was expecting a bigger donation amount.'
Noah did the thing he was good at– doing simple math.
Because the pledge papers were private, most people weren't giving much. Some were giving abysmally little, which did not suit their status at all.
No one wanted to give too much money to the army cause because such donation drives took place were very common.
And since no one else could see what they were donating, they weren't worried about being judged.
The host couldn't ask them directly to give more either. That would break the careful manners and pride of the nobles and merchants. And once offended, these people could become stubborn.
So, the host kept smiling, even as his frustration quietly grew.
===
AN: The terms Arakners and Arkanists basically mean the same thing. They both refer to people who can use Arkana, or mana. It's kind of like the difference between "odor" and "odour"—just different ways of saying the same thing.