The Art of Legal Crime

The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of Lucien's study, casting a soft golden glow over the neatly arranged bookshelves. The five-year-old sat rigidly in his chair, his small hands folded on the wooden desk, eyes darting nervously toward the law books scattered before him. He had spent the last half-hour going through them, hoping to impress his new teacher.

But the moment the study doors swung open, Lucius Nightbane stepped in and, without so much as a greeting, strode over to Lucien's desk and unceremoniously pushed all the books aside.

Lucien gaped.

Lucius, looking as unimpressed as ever, collapsed onto the chair opposite him with a heavy sigh. He propped his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples as though merely existing in this room was already a headache.

"Close the book," Lucius muttered.

Lucien hesitated, his small fingers hovering over the cover of Empire's Legal Codes and Practices. "But… my mother said I need to learn—"

"Your mother is a witch," Lucius interrupted flatly, closing his eyes like a man resigned to his fate.

Lucien gasped. "You can't say that!"

Lucius finally opened his sharp violet eyes and gave Lucien a slow, unamused look. "You're right," he said. "That would be slander." He leaned forward. "Let me rephrase—your mother is a devil in human skin who blackmailed me into teaching you, and I would very much like to be anywhere but here."

Lucien had no idea how to respond to that.

Lucius sighed and waved a hand lazily. "Lesson one—the law is not about right and wrong."

Lucien frowned. "…That sounds illegal."

Lucius arched a brow. "That's because it is."

Lucien's small mouth parted slightly in shock.

The man across from him smirked. "Tell me, kid, what do you think the law is?"

Lucien hesitated, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "The law is… a set of rules everyone has to follow. It keeps people safe and punishes criminals."

Lucius scoffed. "Oh, that's adorable. Who taught you that nonsense?"

Lucien puffed his cheeks. "Mother."

Lucius groaned. "Of course she did."

Lucien crossed his arms. "The law is important!" he insisted.

Lucius leaned back lazily. "Sure, sure. But tell me this—if someone punches you, and you punch them back, who gets punished?"

Lucien frowned. "The person who punched first?"

Lucius smirked. "Not always."

Lucien's frown deepened.

Lucius tapped his fingers against the desk. "If there are witnesses, and they all say you punched first, then guess what? You're the criminal."

Lucien blinked, his mind whirling.

"And if there are no witnesses, but the other person is lying unconscious while you're still standing?" Lucius continued.

Lucien hesitated. "Then… there's no proof?"

Lucius snapped his fingers. "Exactly! No proof, no crime."

Lucien stared.

He was five.

He was pretty sure this was not how law lessons were supposed to go.

Lucius sighed and leaned forward. "Look, kid. The law isn't about fairness. It's about control. It exists to serve those who know how to use it."

Lucien hesitated. "Like… a sword?"

Lucius gave him an appraising look before smirking. "Exactly. And the best swordsmen? They know when to strike and when to hide the blade."

Lucien chewed on his lip. "So… if someone steals from me, what do I do?"

"Report it to the guards?" Lucius mocked in a sing-song voice before scoffing. "Wrong."

Lucien frowned. "But stealing is illegal!"

Lucius smirked. "Sure. But what if the thief is the guard?"

Lucien froze.

Lucius chuckled. "Welcome to the real world, kid."

Lucien's small hands clenched into fists on his lap. "That's… that's not fair."

Lucius shrugged. "No, it isn't. And yet, that's how things work."

Lucien's head lowered. "But I want to follow the law properly."

Lucius sighed and shook his head. "And that's exactly why you'd get eaten alive in court."

Lucien flinched.

Lucius clicked his tongue. "Lesson two—justice and reality are two different things. The law isn't about doing the right thing. It's about knowing how to play the game."

Lucien looked up. "Then… how do I win?"

Lucius smirked. "Now that's the right question."

Lucien sat up straighter.

Lucius lazily drummed his fingers against the desk. "You win by knowing how to twist the law in your favor. By understanding that truth doesn't matter—only perception does. You don't argue what is right. You argue what seems right."

Lucien swallowed.

This… was not what he expected law to be.

Lucius chuckled at his troubled expression. "You're too honest for your own good."

Lucien lowered his head again. He had always been told he was too naive, too soft. It wasn't something he could help.

Lucius watched him for a moment before sighing and leaning forward. "Alright, kid. Let's test something. What's the difference between strategy and manipulation?"

Lucien blinked. "Strategy… is when you plan ahead to win."

Lucius nodded. "And manipulation?"

Lucien hesitated. "When you trick people into doing what you want?"

Lucius smirked. "Wrong. That's just strategy with extra steps."

Lucien blinked rapidly.

Lucius leaned back, stretching his arms. "Lesson three—manipulation isn't a crime. It's a skill."

Lucien felt dizzy.

Lucius grinned. "You're learning fast, kid. A shame you'll probably use this knowledge for good."

Lucien frowned. "Is that… bad?"

Lucius shrugged. "It's a waste."

Lucien hesitated before looking up at him seriously. "Then… what do you think law should be used for?"

Lucius smirked but didn't answer right away. Instead, he simply said, "That's your final lesson for today. Think about it."

Lucien deflated a little. He felt like he had been given a book with half the pages missing.

Lucius stood, stretching lazily. "Recap—don't get caught, always know who's watching, and the law is a sword."

Lucien sighed. "I feel like I just became more confused."

Lucius smirked. "Good. That means you're finally thinking."

Lucien groaned.

His mother had absolutely done this on purpose.

*****

Raizel had been having a relatively peaceful day.

That should have been his first warning.

The silver-haired swordmaster strode through the halls of the imperial palace, his steps unhurried. He had just finished his morning training and was considering dropping by the kitchens for tea when he noticed his five-year-old nephew shuffling down the corridor like a lost soul.

Lucien's small shoulders were slumped, his black hair slightly messy, and his gray eyes—normally so serious for a child—were clouded with visible distress.

Raizel frowned.

This was not normal.

The boy looked as if someone had told him the sky was a lie.

"Lucien?" Raizel called.

Lucien jolted and slowly turned to face his uncle, his little face scrunched in deep thought.

Raizel crossed his arms. "What's wrong?"

Lucien hesitated. His mouth opened—then closed. He looked down at his tiny hands as if questioning his very existence.

Raizel's frown deepened.

He crouched slightly to meet Lucien's eye level. "Did someone say something to you?"

Lucien fidgeted before mumbling, "Uncle Lucius taught me… law today."

Raizel instantly sighed.

Of course it was Lucius.

His sister's shenanigans were one thing, but trusting Lucius Nightbane with legal education? That was asking for trouble.

"…And how did that go?" Raizel asked, bracing himself.

Lucien's small hands clenched at his sides. His voice was soft. "I think I'm learning crime."

Raizel blinked.

"…I'm sorry, what?"

Lucien lifted his distressed little face. "Uncle, is the law supposed to be about not getting caught?"

Raizel blinked again.

Oh no.

Oh no.

Lucien continued, his tiny brows furrowed. "Uncle Lucius said the law isn't about right and wrong. It's about who gets caught." He tugged at his own sleeves, his voice getting even smaller. "But I thought the law was supposed to protect people?"

Raizel ran a hand down his face. "Lucius." He exhaled. "What else did he say?"

Lucien's lips wobbled slightly. "That if someone punches me, and I punch them back, I could still be the criminal if there are witnesses who lie."

Raizel's eye twitched.

"…Anything else?"

Lucien nodded. "He also said that if someone steals from me, I should just steal it back."

Raizel groaned.

"And that I shouldn't get caught."

Raizel groaned louder.

Lucien twisted his fingers together. "Uncle… am I supposed to do crime?"

Raizel pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, Lucien. You are not supposed to do crime."

Lucien still looked unsure. "But… if the law is a game, then does that mean the Emperor is the best player?"

Raizel stared.

This child.

This five-year-old child.

Had already begun questioning imperial corruption.

Raizel cursed Lucius internally.

Lucien bit his lip. "Uncle Lucius said that justice and reality are different things. And that truth doesn't matter if no one believes it."

Raizel exhaled through his nose. "Lucien, listen to me."

Lucien blinked up at him.

Raizel placed a firm hand on the boy's small shoulder. "The law is supposed to protect people. It's just that… not everyone follows it the way they should."

Lucien's brows scrunched. "Then what's the point of the law if bad people can just use it however they want?"

Raizel paused.

That was… a very good question.

One he did not want to answer for a five-year-old.

"…The law is supposed to set a standard," Raizel tried, careful with his words. "Just because some people twist it for their own gain doesn't mean the law itself is bad. It means people need to fight to make it right."

Lucien's eyes widened slightly.

"Think of it like a sword," Raizel continued. "A sword can be used to protect or to harm. The sword itself isn't evil. It's the person holding it that decides what to do with it."

Lucien's tiny mouth formed an "o."

Raizel ruffled his nephew's messy black hair. "So no, you are not learning crime."

Lucien still looked slightly suspicious. "…Are you sure?"

Raizel sighed. "Yes. I'm sure."

Lucien hesitated. "But Uncle Lucius said that manipulation isn't a crime. It's just… strategy with extra steps."

Raizel almost choked on air.

"…We're having a talk with your mother later," he muttered.

Lucien let out a small sigh of relief. "Okay. I think I need a break anyway."

Raizel agreed.

He definitely needed a break.

*****

The training hall was quiet except for the sharp, rhythmic sounds of a sword slicing through the air.

Diana exhaled, gripping the hilt of her blade tightly as golden energy flickered along its edge.

Again.

She swung.

Again.

She adjusted her stance, forcing her too-small body to move the way she needed. It was frustrating. Her past self had reached the realm of demi-god, but this body was weak—too light, too unbalanced, too inexperienced.

Again.

The golden aura surrounding her sword flickered, unstable. Her body ached, her breathing was uneven, and her core—her circle—kept breaking apart the moment she tried to form it.

Again.

She clenched her jaw and forced herself to build it again.

She knew the standard technique for forming circles, the smooth, single-threaded construction every knight used to grow their strength. But Diana had never followed the rules.

Instead of weaving a single thread, she knotted multiple together, twisting and reinforcing them until they formed something far stronger—something unbreakable.

In her past life, this method had brought her to the Demi-God Realm.

And yet—even with all her knowledge—her body could not keep up.

Not yet.

She needed to at least reach the 6th Circle before Raizel left. If she couldn't teach Lucien herself, then at the very least, she needed to be strong enough to make sure no one else could take him away from her.

Her grip tightened.

The sword cut through the air, golden energy finally stabilizing along its length.

And then—

Snap!

The core inside her shattered again.

Diana stumbled, barely managing to keep herself standing as the last of her strength drained away.

Damn it.

She staggered to the center of the training hall, her body trembling from exertion.

Then, finally—she collapsed onto the cool floor.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

For a long moment, she simply lay there, staring up at the ceiling, her breathing ragged.

Then—

"…Mother?"

A small voice broke the silence.

Diana's eyes flickered toward the entrance.

Lucien was standing there, his gray eyes wide, his little hands gripping the hem of his tunic. Beside him, Raizel stood stiffly, his blue eyes fixed on her sword—the sword that still flickered with golden Imperial energy.