Chapter 109
Chapter 109
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 109
Chapter Title: Fake Crown Prince (7)
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An ancient city lined with architectural relics.
At its center stood a solitary altar rising like a mountain.
A massive structure shaped like a square pyramid, built by stacking enormous bricks layer upon layer.
The top was flat, as if the peak had been sliced horizontally.
That expansive space was said to be where the ritual took place.
“Soldiers will be swarming all over the place.”
A voice laced with fear slipped from the White Lion’s lips.
I said,
“No need to be scared.”
“Ha! Scared? Me?”
The White Lion snorted derisively, pretending to be bold.
But he looked plenty anxious for someone putting on such a front.
The guy who’d been strutting around as the crown prince was scared out of his wits.
Even so, he was still trying to act cool in front of Iriel standing beside him.
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
“Ah, sure.”
Iriel just gave an awkward smile.
The idea of this fool—who’d probably never even held a sword properly—protecting an Expert-level Iriel.
I considered smacking the back of his head but held back and spoke instead.
“Cut the nonsense and just walk quietly. You can manage that much, right?”
“Of course. You think I’m some kid who can’t even walk?”
Of course, he wasn’t a toddler who couldn’t take a step.
But that was in normal circumstances.
Soon, he’d have to march right into the heart of a battlefield. One drenched in blood, littered with severed corpses.
It wasn’t a place someone experiencing it for the first time could cross with composure.
At least the mask hid his expression, which was a small mercy, but fooling Halent was another matter entirely.
Still, we had no choice but to try.
Making Halent confess directly was the surest way to expose the crown prince as a fake.
“Let’s go.”
We started toward the city.
We ditched the carriage and went on foot.
A carriage would’ve let us infiltrate deep inside easily, but for the plan, we had to play the part of people who’d never crossed paths with the Fake Crown Prince.
The mining outpost news wouldn’t have reached this island yet, so it was entirely plausible.
The city gates came into view ahead.
The main entrance stood wide open, utterly unguarded.
There were guards, sure, but they were slouched and lax.
“Hm?”
A guard spotted us and tilted his head.
He rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
His face soon twisted in confusion.
He might not know about the White Lion holed up on the island, but he could tell we were enemies at a glance.
Too bad for him, it was already too late.
Our forms scattered like flickering shadows, slicing through their ranks.
Slash!
In an instant, I severed their throats as I passed.
Blood sprayed up behind my steps.
“Gasp!”
From behind, I heard the Fake Crown Prince swallow hard.
“Enemies! We’re under attack!”
Those who saw me turned pale and rang the alarm bells.
The once-quiet city erupted in chaos.
“From now on, keep your head in the game.”
I warned the Fake approaching from behind.
We formed a triangular formation centered on him.
I took the front, Nederman and Allen the left and right rear flanks.
Iriel stuck close to the Fake, ready for any threats.
“Who the hell are you!”
Imperial soldiers rushed to block our path in a panic.
Their skills were as pathetic as those at the mines.
What real force could they have stationed on this island?
I answered by unleashing my sword.
Boom!
A trajectory ripping through the air.
Sword qi bloomed along its path.
The hurled sword beams tore through everyone in their arcs, charging forward.
I displayed overwhelming dominance, mercilessly cutting down those who blocked the way.
The imperial soldiers were shredded before they could even form ranks.
I showed off deliberately. To draw out their commander.
Sooner or later, that would pull Halent out too.
I advanced slowly.
The enemies’ encirclement thickened, but I paid it no mind.
It might strain Allen a bit, but with Nederman’s and my support, maintaining the triangular formation was no issue.
“Argh!”
“Don’t fall back!”
“Gaaah!”
“Charge!”
A battlefield filled with the enemies’ desperate screams and shouts.
The Fake Crown Prince silently followed in my bloody footsteps.
Perhaps because of Iriel beside him, he was holding up more steadily than expected.
Soon after, a slicing aura cut through the air from ahead.
A wind carrying the sharpness of a blade blew chillingly.
“It’s the Ariat Knights!”
“Clear the way, everyone!”
“You’re dead meat now, bastards!”
The soldiers scattered left and right in a clamor.
Heavy presences emerged from their midst: knights.
Around fifty strong.
Knights with resolute expressions blocked our path.
I held back for the moment.
They were decent, but the aura I sensed wasn’t theirs.
A man strode forward, parting the lined-up knights left and right.
Step, step.
A middle-aged man with neatly combed-back hair.
An oppressive noble air flowed from his leisurely gait. His expressionless face added a chilling, cold precision.
He wore similar attire and shared the same features as the Fake, but his dignity was worlds apart.
Regardless of raw power, the presence of a man at the pinnacle of a nation was something else entirely.
The moment he appeared, the space around us grew heavy.
As if the world in our radius had risen and bulked up.
Indeed, Halent Barrein.
Facing his intimidating figure, I shook off the lingering regret I’d felt.
This was definitely the uncle I remembered.
Yes, this was the standard he had to meet.
I hadn’t come all this way to cut down some worthless hack.
He was the enemy commander, but a man worth beheading.
His absence would crack the governorship wide open.
Yet his gaze was fixed behind me.
A heavy voice, crushing like a weight on one’s chest, flowed from his lips.
“To think you’d come all this way. Honestly, impressive.”
For someone surprised, he continued impassively.
“You should’ve waited a bit longer. Then I could’ve given you a proper welcome.”
He knew the White Lion’s forces better than anyone, yet he was utterly relaxed.
I couldn’t gauge his exact power, but perhaps this bastard.
He might be a Sword Master.
That subtle aura suggested as much.
This composure came from knowing he could handle me.
At that moment, Nederman stepped forward from behind and spoke. I naturally yielded my position at the front, as planned.
“Governor, sir. If you’re gonna talk, talk to me. As you can see from the mask, he’s shy around strangers.”
Only then did Halent look at Nederman, his eyes lighting up. I didn’t miss the flicker in those eyes.
More agitation than he’d shown toward the impassive figure until now.
Nederman grinned at him. Halent twisted his lips in a cold sneer.
“Long time no see, Gredernan.”
“Oh, you remember me? Well, my face is too handsome to forget.”
“That foul tongue of yours hasn’t changed.”
“We’re old comrades meeting after ages—loosen up that face. Still no heart, even with age.”
I’d heard the gist last night: Nederman’s real name and his history with Halent.
Nederman had once been a knight in the Leonir Lancers.
He was Cardron’s contemporary, and their squad leader back then was Halent.
Nederman had downplayed it, but it was a deep bond.
“You’ve got some luck surviving this long.”
“So many joys in the world. Gotta live till I’m shitting myself against a wall.”
“So you’re the dragon hunter.”
A green aura and peak Expert strength.
If he knew Nederman, it wouldn’t be hard to deduce.
Nederman grinned and replied.
“Honored you were thinking of me. Shame I’m not into middle-aged guys.”
“Pathetic.”
“Anyway, what’s a picky fellow like you doing holed up on this island?”
“Still all talk, as ever.”
“Not reminiscing on old times, are you? You, the governor who sold out his country.”
“No reason to. Still, surprising. You, of all people, joining the independence army.”
“I was shocked too.”
Nederman shrugged, and Halent smirked before continuing.
“How’d you find this place?”
“Got a job tip. Followed them here. Wondering what the hell’s going on.”
“Lucky you.”
From Nederman’s words, Halent seemed to grasp the situation instantly.
Nederman hardened his playful expression into a cold one.
“How far have you fallen? Halent Barrein, stooping to this sleazy crap.”
“No result comes without sacrifice. Just chose a better outcome.”
“Supporting someone kidnapping citizens for human experiments. Tricking them into slave labor. What ‘better outcome’ justifies that filth?”
“That why you came all this way? To whine?”
Halent countered without a hint of disturbance.
His reaction all but confirmed Nederman’s words.
Meaning, the state of Francia we’d told the Fake Crown Prince was true.
The Fake would now know Halent had lied to him.
With that, Nederman had naturally proven Francia’s situation and cut to the chase.
“Whine? You still see me as a kid? I’ve been a grown man enjoying booze and gambling for ages. Kinda hurtful.”
Halent waited silently, so Nederman flashed a sly smile.
“Anyway, where’s His Highness the Crown Prince? We came to see him.”
“You’ve got good ears, it seems.”
“Why act like that? You leaked it on purpose.”
“Sharp head on you too.”
Halent’s lips curled into a faint smile.
The crown prince intel wasn’t something the independence army had stumbled on by chance.
The governor’s office had subtly leaked it to prepare for the Fake Crown Prince’s eventual reveal.
But they hadn’t expected anyone to track it here.
Truth be told, our arrival was pure coincidence stacked on coincidence.
From encountering the independence army in the rippling straits, acquiring the City of Immortality, to coming here to save Als.
All just happenstance.
Nederman said,
“Old comrade after so long—no booze, but let’s talk straight. What’s the play with the Fake Crown Prince?”
“The crown prince is fake?”
“Our White Lion saw a fake just like you at the governor’s office. That’s when it clicked. How the crown prince executed at Tenasta Square came back to life.”
“Could’ve been the fake back then.”
Halent smirked.
Not giving it up easily, huh.
He continued,
“You lot are curious about the crown prince? I’ve got questions about the White Lion too. Like who’s behind the mask.”
Proposing a trade?
Nederman nodded agreeably.
“Sure, solve my curiosity, and I’ll happily unmask the White Lion. He’s shy and modest, but not the type to blush in front of a middle-aged man.”
“Good to know.”
“Right? Don’t worry. Your tastes haven’t changed.”
“Get to the point.”
“Right, yeah. Not prying into your bedroom preferences—don’t misunderstand. First, answer my question. What’s with dragging around a Fake Crown Prince? You’re already at the top. Why bother? Surely not for your tastes.”
“Still adding useless fluff to your words. But alas.”
Halent shifted his gaze from Nederman to me.
“I think I’ve already seen the face behind the mask.”
Not fooled that easily, huh.
Sharp as ever.
His cold voice flowed out.
“You’re the White Lion.”
Nederman clicked his tongue and glanced back at me.
“Knew it. Slippery fox, like I said.”
Halent eyed me with interest and pressed on.
“Younger than I thought. A Sword Master at that age?”
No need to stay quiet anymore, I stepped forward.
“My turn to ask questions now. If you want to live a little longer, answer honestly.”
As I advanced, the presence I’d concealed unfurled, dominating the area. The knights behind Halent stiffened in unison.
Staring him down, I continued.
“Once your head’s off, you won’t be talking anyway.”
“Power at a young age makes you arrogant, huh?”
“No. Better yet, you ask him yourself.”
I looked at the White Lion.
If he knew I was the White Lion, deducing the masked one was the Fake Crown Prince wouldn’t be hard.
At my nod, the Fake removed his White Lion mask.
His pupils trembled like prey facing a predator as he stared at Halent.
From the conversation alone, he’d realize Francia’s situation differed from what he knew.
That would shatter his trust in Halent like a long, gaping crack.
The Fake Crown Prince spoke cautiously.
“They told me… everything I knew was wrong…”
“Right.”
At Halent’s affirmation, his face drained to white. He forced out words.
“…Am I…”
He swallowed dryly.
“A fake?”
“Yes.”
The answer came without hesitation.
“You’re the fake I made.”
At Halent’s words, the Fake’s face seemed to shatter. He staggered in shock, and Iriel supported him. Her face was pale blue from the revelation too.
Nederman and Allen were shaken as well.
Even I was surprised he admitted it so readily.
No denial, just straight out.
It made things smoother.
The Fake Crown Prince looked utterly lost.
Halent continued impassively.
“Does it matter now?”
As if it were nothing.
“Fake or real, you’ve lived as crown prince here for ten years. They can’t be sure if you’re real or not. If I say you’re real, you will be. How do you want to live?”
“…”
The Fake couldn’t respond. He didn’t have the mind to. His eyes were half-glazed. Halent clicked his tongue coldly at him.
“Pathetic.”
Ignoring the Fake’s shock, he turned to us.
“Jokes over? You went to all this trouble just for that?”
Nederman scoffed.
“Still an obnoxious prick. Thinks he’s hot shit. Nose in the air, even as a country-selling imperial dog.”
“You’re still an idiot. Why do you think I played along with your antics?”
Halent sneered coldly.
“Just for fun. A reward for your long journey too.”
Halent smirked.
A brutally icy smile.
“Nice to see a familiar face after so long.”
His gaze turned to me.
“And I saw the face I was curious about. Consider that your reward.”
“Bullshit.”
“And now, it doesn’t matter if you know the truth.”
With that, Halent raised one hand.
“You found it well, but too late.”
He snapped his fingers.
Snap!
In that instant, my vision warped.
Whoosh—.
Suddenly, we stood on a beach overlooking a colorless forest.