Chapter 105
Chapter 105
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: Fake Crown Prince (3)
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I gazed at a man stepping out from among the soldiers.
A familiar yet unfamiliar sensation, something bizarre.
The boy from my previous life stood before me, now grown into a young man.
The hazy face lingering in my mind came sharply back into focus.
Yeah, that's what I used to look like.
His facial contours had sharpened, his lines thickened, but I could still find traces of my old face within his.
He spoke.
"Are you with Francia's independence army?"
His voice, deepened past puberty, rang clearly in my ears.
I stared at him in wonder.
"......?"
Allen looked at me with anxious eyes.
Silver hair and silver eyes symbolizing Francia's royal family.
Not a color exclusive to royal blood, but one that represented the throne.
"Truly, Your Highness is alive...?"
Nederman murmured lowly.
His voice was hollow, as if his soul had fled. He seemed to recognize the Fake Crown Prince's face as well. Seeing Nederman's reaction, the Fake Crown Prince's eyes gleamed with interest.
"Oh, so you recognize me. Have you seen me before?"
But I knew it was all an act.
Just like the fake Halent in the governor-general's office.
I'd warned the others beforehand, yet seeing them so shaken, they must not have expected such a perfect resemblance.
Unlike the fake Halent incident, this wasn't a desperate situation, so his performance was far more convincing. No wonder the people in the governor-general's office had fallen for the fake Halent.
If he weren't my previous life's double, I might not have been so certain myself.
I wanted to sever the neck of this impostor right then, but I held back for now.
There was plenty of information I could extract from him.
To test just how well he could impersonate me, I spoke up.
"The Crown Prince was executed ten years ago in Tenasta Square. I saw it myself. And you're claiming to be him?"
"I understand your skepticism. I know all about what happened back then. But I am the real Crown Prince. There were unavoidable circumstances. Lay down your swords and calm yourselves, and I'll explain everything."
"Even so, do you think it makes sense for Francia's Crown Prince to be under the empire's protection?"
"I get that too. Put down your swords first. I won't harm you. Then I'll explain it all. You'll understand me—and the empire—after that."
It was a fairly natural performance.
He seemed more immersed in the role than the fake Halent had been.
"Then we'll hear your explanation after things settle down."
No sooner had I finished speaking than I charged at them.
A white flash distorted in the wake of my arrow-swift form. Along that trajectory, several heads shot up into the air amid sprays of red blood.
"You bastard!"
The man who had introduced the Fake Crown Prince to us desperately drew his sword to block me.
Slash-!
A diagonal sword stroke cleaved through his body in an instant.
"Stop!"
The Fake Crown Prince's sharp cry followed.
His guard knights leaped out from behind him, rushing toward me.
Boom!
In a flash, blades clashed and tangled, unleashing a thunderous roar.
But it was only for a moment.
A single beam of light sliced through the onslaught of sword strikes.
Red blood trailed in its wake, like an inescapable chain of cause and effect.
With every flash from my fingertips, they collapsed without meaningful resistance.
"H-How...?"
Seeing his guard knights swept away in an instant, the Fake Crown Prince's pupils dilated massively.
His face paled as if he'd seen a ghost.
I stood before him in one bound.
Then I pressed his blood points.
The Fake Crown Prince slumped into a deep sleep like a collapsing puppet, and I slung him over my shoulder and set him down behind me.
No one in the imperial army would dare try to save him now.
As I turned to head back to the battlefield, leaving him there, I halted.
"Argh!"
The screams-filled area was resolving itself quickly without my intervention.
Whenever Nederman's hands blurred, those in their path spewed blood and fell.
He usually acted like a fool, but when cutting down imperial soldiers, he truly lived up to his dragon hunter title, displaying godlike prowess.
I turned my gaze from the battlefield to the slumbering Fake Crown Prince.
* * *
"Argh!"
Screams echoed nonstop from the distance.
The miners huddled together in their pigsty-like quarters perked up their ears at the sound.
"What the hell is going on?"
"Beats me."
The frantic footsteps echoing down the corridor confirmed some disaster had struck.
"Shut your mouths!"
As murmurs spread, the overseers bellowed.
A heavy silence fell over the quarters once more.
Still, faint screams reached their ears.
Unable to sleep, they focused all their senses on listening.
The distant cries had drawn near, right to their doorstep.
"Block him!"
"Argh!"
At the screams from the corridor, they jolted up in alarm, assuming defensive postures.
The miners held their breath, staring wide-eyed at the door.
Suddenly, even the corridor fell silent.
Yet they remained still as mice.
The stale air grew taut with tension.
Clutching hearts ready to burst, they fixed their eyes on the door.
That's when the sturdy iron door was torn off.
Bang!
A few startled miners flinched and slumped to the floor.
A unfamiliar shadow stood before the wide-open door.
"Come out, everyone."
A gentle voice emanated from the shadow.
A clear woman's voice.
It felt like a dream.
"Head to the courtyard."
With those brief words, the shadow vanished.
The same happened next door.
"What in the world is going on?"
The miners exchanged uneasy glances, but their soot-covered faces offered no answers.
They followed the shadow's instructions for now.
The occupants cautiously stepped into the corridor.
"Gasp!"
Those who saw the corridor gasped and covered their mouths. Overseers' corpses littered the hallway.
They tiptoed past them and exited the building.
Then they witnessed an even more unbelievable sight.
"...Is this really reality?"
Imperial soldiers' bodies lay scattered like stones everywhere.
The miners naturally lined up in formation, avoiding them.
No one ordered it, but they did so anyway.
Conditioned by abuse and beatings, defying it felt more unnerving.
Moments later.
A red-haired woman stepped forward before the assembled miners in the courtyard.
"......"
They stared at her blankly.
Even the frailest among them felt compelled to rise and mine magic stones for such a beautiful woman.
This had to be a dream.
Slapping sounds echoed as they struck their own cheeks. Some even slapped each other.
Those uncomfortable with that pinched their arms.
Only after feeling the sharp pain did they realize this was stark reality.
"Is everything cleared?"
At the sudden voice, all heads turned in unison.
Along with her, three men entered the yard.
Precisely four.
One carried someone over his shoulder.
Judging by his attire, it was clearly the deranged Crown Prince.
* * *
"What's that?"
Iriel's gaze shifted to Allen's shoulder.
The sleeping Fake Crown Prince was draped over it like laundry.
"Put him down."
At my words, Allen carefully lowered him to the ground.
I said,
"He's the Fake Crown Prince."
"Pardon?"
Iriel tilted her head, then examined the sprawled figure closely.
Her eyes shook violently, like an earthquake.
Her face stiffened in an instant—she'd recognized him at once.
Covering her mouth in disbelief, she slowly approached the Fake Crown Prince.
She knelt down and stared at him intently.
After peering through him, she looked up at me.
"...It's His Highness. I'm sure of it."
"Even I can see the resemblance, but he claims otherwise."
Nederman shrugged and added his piece.
Iriel looked at me.
"You know His Highness's face too."
"They said they could replicate faces. It's the same, but fake."
She bit her lower lip at my words, then shook the Fake Crown Prince. Seeing the identical face in person made it hard to accept.
"Hey. Wake up."
He showed no reaction to Iriel's call.
Frustrated, she tapped his cheek with her palm.
I understood her urgency, but...
Slap! Slap!
That seemed too forceful.
"Hey! Snap out of it!"
"He's out cold for now. He won't wake."
I stopped her as she even clenched her fist.
"You're saying this man's a fake?"
"That's right."
She looked up at me.
"How can you be so sure?"
"We'll get to that later. First, these people."
I nodded toward the bewildered, lined-up miners.
Only then did Iriel nod reluctantly and stand.
As the situation seemed to wrap up, a low voice came from the crowd.
"Allen?"
Allen, who had been searching for him, whipped his head toward the voice calling his name.
Spotting his long-lost friend, Allen shouted and charged.
"Als!"
Caught in an instant by the boar-like rush, Als wriggled in his embrace.
"Ugh."
Allen released him only when his face turned purple.
"How's your body? No injuries, right?"
Allen fussed over him, patting him down. Als, catching his breath, stared in confusion.
"...How are you here?"
Allen smacked his back.
"How do you think, you idiot? I came to rescue you!"
"To rescue me?"
"Yeah! I met Uncle Pallain, Aunt Herian, and even Daisy in Perpen. We've got tons to talk about."
"Enough."
I cut off their budding conversation.
All eyes turned to me naturally.
"Save the reunion for later."
I knew they had much to catch up on, but now wasn't the time.
I said,
"Who's worked here the longest?"
At my question, they craned their necks looking around, and a man where their gazes converged cautiously raised his hand.
"...Me."
He appeared to be in his mid-to-late fifties.
"How many years here?"
"Eight."
"Tell us what you know about this place."
He calmly recounted what he knew, and I listened silently.
It seemed the magic stones they mined flowed to the City of Immortality, but that was all.
I could ask the Fake Crown Prince about that anyway.
From what he described, the miners believed their wages were sent to their families.
They also clung to hope of eventual release.
The term was ten years, apparently.
Fucking dogs.
They dangled false hope to exploit their labor.
They'd endured day by day believing it true.
Their wretched appearances spoke volumes of the hellish conditions.
"You explain the situation."
Allen nodded heavily at my words.
It would be a cruel truth that scattered past time like dust, but they needed to face reality.
We had come to pull them from this hell.
But before Allen could begin, the miners were already crumbling.
Most seemed to anticipate the harsh truth we'd deliver.
They hadn't truly trusted the empire's words.
They believed out of necessity, to survive each day.
How could they fully trust those treating them like livestock?
Allen slowly explained the current situation and our purpose here.
Unneeding to hear it, I pointed to the Fake Crown Prince on the ground.
"Bring him. We'll talk separately."
While Allen spoke with the miners, I planned to interrogate this one.
Iriel nodded and moved to scoop him up, but I stopped her.
"No, I'll carry him."
I hoisted the unconscious Fake Crown Prince like baggage.
I didn't like how she treated him—like he was me, not this fake.
We moved to a spot slightly away from the yard.
I dumped him on the ground and released his blood points. The death-like sleeper began to stir.
"Ugh."
He groaned shortly, furrowing his brow.
Iriel watched him with pursed lips. Seeing him alive stirred her emotions. Her large eyes welled up quickly.
"......?"
Meanwhile, the awakened Fake Crown Prince tilted his head at us looming over him.