Chapter 130
Chapter 130
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 130
Chapter Title: The Sealed Prince
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“There are more people here than I expected.”
No need to use [User’s Eye] in a gathering this big—easily over fifty heads—unless it’s some tiny group of a few.
As long as I watch out for Bervert, the rest probably won’t amount to much anyway.
Oh, but her guard-slash-sword needs caution too.
‘Better to trust Cain and Zero with that.’
“Shahad!”
“Shahad, you’re here.”
Girls in dresses hike up their hems slightly as they hurry over. Boys their age cluster together too, bowing like proper adults.
I’d thought the crowd was already thick, but this must be a big enough event to draw royalty.
‘Finally, a meeting.’
I’d figured one of the three invites would overlap with some royal, but hitting it spot-on with Shahad? That’s good news.
The host, a noble with foundries across the continent, kicks things off by introducing his family’s wines, one by one, produced at those far-flung sites.
“The wine you’ll taste today hails from the north, made from grapes that froze and thawed multiple times—its hallmark is an unusually sweet profile.”
“Shahad, try some. It’s really sweet.”
“Ugh, too sweet for me.”
Shahad sniffs the wine once, swirls it in his mouth, then shakes his head—like it’s too sugary for his taste.
Yet he keeps sipping away.
Kids that age are all about the bravado.
I casually scan Shahad amid the swarm chatting him up.
His skin’s got that southern tan, a touch bronzed, paired with sunset-gold hair.
From the traits I’d seen last time, Weakness and Sensitivity were the standouts. Makes sense why his eyes look so sharp and prickly.
He claims it’s not his style, but his glass keeps emptying on those subtly sweet ones. Boys and girls alike tangle around him—royalty’s royalty, alright.
His hands, glimpsed now and then, are rough, callused. He’s clearly putting in effort, but no muscle to show for it—probably the seal locking his traits, with Weakness and Sensitivity as the reps holding him back.
A bit like Adelian’s situation.
Still, once that seal breaks, he’s a dragon ready to soar—way better off than me. At least he’s no total lost cause. The scars on his body and hands scream hard worker.
Problem is, with this mob around him, getting close is tricky.
‘What to do.’
Need to engineer a moment for just the two of us.
That’s when I can dangle the artifact to unseal him.
I’d assumed once we met, it’d flow like any booze-up—mingling, chatting, slipping in the bait eventually.
‘Maybe stir up a little chaos?’
I’d considered leaking rumors about a seal-breaking artifact quietly, but that’d draw not just Shahad’s eyes—likely the seal’s caster sniffing me out first.
Better to tell him direct, but the crowd makes it tough right now.
I swallow the wine’s tannic bite, its subtle aroma blooming after, and set my glass down.
Hand Cain a (small) explosion potion or...
“Hmm, plain explosion might be too much...”
Better tweak it a bit.
As I finalize the thought and step toward the Shahad swarm, someone mutters beside me.
“Ugh, what to do with this.”
The familiar voice yanks my head around on reflex—I nearly yelp.
‘So this is Bervert’s trap.’
Tousled brown hair, drowsy sugar-brown eyes.
No mask, but that gaze is unchanged.
The cold stare that sees people as tools.
“Too strong for me... don’t think I can drink it.”
She clutches the dress sleeve covering her hand to her cheek, sighing deeply.
To anyone watching, it’s fragile, sweet enough to make them want to drink it for her.
“Ah.”
She senses someone, turns those eyes my way, flashes a beaming smile, and slowly blinks up at me.
Her fluttering lashes mimic a tiny butterfly’s wings.
Petite as Luna, face bright like milled flour, hair gleaming strand by strand, not a split end in sight.
Objectively, anyone would want to heed this girl, protect her.
‘You’ve hardly ever been turned down, have you?’
No, who’d step up right here to drink it for her?
“Um... if you’re okay with it...”
“No...”
“Want me to drink it for you?”
Bervert floats the suggestion softly; I’m about to slice it down cold when someone wedges between us and snatches the glass.
There’s the idiot I knew was coming.
“Bervert doesn’t show at these much. Haha. Nearly didn’t recognize you out of academy uniform.”
“Oh... really?”
“This one’s bitter, right? That one over there’s super sweet and tasty—wanna head there with me?”
“Oh... really?”
Bervert covers her mouth with a sweet smile, but veins bulge at her eye corners.
Oh, this is fun.
“Aren’t you chilly inside? Your shoulders or whatever.”
“Oh... really?”
Spear and shield, huh.
I nod to Bervert—now equipped with her “Oh, really?” shield—and slip back quick.
“Hey, wait!”
I dodge away from Bervert; she lunges, splashing wine on my clothes.
“Ah, need a change.”
“S-sorry for the rudeness... There’s clothes in that room over—hey?”
Bervert closes in, seizing the spill as her chance, but the spear blocks her quick.
“That room? Yeah, wanna rest a bit? How’s that? Oh, and my dad’s opening a new vein—if it pans out, we’re talking massive gold. Bervert, you like gems?”
“Oh... really?”
Good job. Praying that vein blows up big.
Bervert’s built image won’t let her shake him off easy to reach me.
That buys me time to chat Shahad—win for me.
“But since you’re here, send bottles one through six to my palace. Oh, that ice wine for Mother earlier? Double it.”
“Of course.”
Kids are kids—maybe not drop a (small) bomb potion for chaos? I pretend to fuss my wine-soaked clothes, slipping a hand into sub-space for some attribute stones.
“Caine, you can do it?”
“Probably.”
If it’s not a no from him, it’s doable.
He wields aura and mana alike with control; traits fully evolved, few limits left.
“Events call for fireworks.”
Caine vanishes ghost-like in his robe and perception-down badge. I take Zero alone, easing toward Shahad.
“Zero ready?”
“Yes, Adelian.”
Shahad never appeared in the original or Innocent Saga.
Means he never flipped to the Evil God cult at least.
‘Might be trash, but not cult trash.’
No need for spotless allies. If so, I’d have teamed with that sapphire-haired Peya princess last time.
A moderately shady one can salve my conscience.
Pop! Boom!
“Huh? Fireworks?”
“Fireworks? They went all out.”
“Y-yes! Shall we all go watch?”
Sell the goods with quick wits. The wine-tasting host rides the momentum—claiming his prep despite not—herding folks out.
“Shahad, let’s go watch.”
“Shahad?”
“It’ll end soon... We’ll go ahead—hurry!”
As the kids around Shahad’s couch bolt to the terrace for the sky-bursting lights—save the sprawled prince—I don black robe and perception badge with Zero, slinking through the dim hall’s shadows to sit by stiff Shahad.
“Hello, Your Highness.”
That vintage from earlier was good.
I pour myself a slow sip from the table wine, addressing Shahad frozen by Zero’s bloodlust.
“Wanted a quiet word, so I made the opportunity—rudely, I know.”
I grin wickedly. Ah, fun—black curtain vibe.
“You... bastard... assassin?”
Teeth chattering under Zero’s pressure, yet glaring daggers. Got spine, surprisingly.
“If so, I wouldn’t sit here chatting. Shahad.”
I lean to refill his empty glass, whispering.
“Weakness and Sensitivity... your traits, right, Shahad?”
His stiff body twitches at my words, then stills.
“...So, you went to this trouble just to mock them?”
Fireworks still crackle outside.
Cain’s a wizard—flashy bursts from mere potions and stones.
“No way. If that was it, wouldn’t this be laughable?”
From the terrace corner, Bervert scans for me.
Darker couch side beats terrace light—no instant spot—but if she comes, candle’s out. Hurry.
“You might not know, Shahad—the seal on you.”
“Seal? What’re you on about?”
His fingertips twitch faintly. Another Zero signal freezes him in fear, but tanks my image further.
“You’ve been clueless till now?”
I chuckle darkly on purpose.
“Shahad, you fool. Blind to your talents chained... Makes me rethink your worth.”
“Wh-what...!”
“Want to meet again? Throw a party inviting me. The labyrinth garden... perfect for two.”
I slip up, melt behind the couch, circle the hall wide, ditch the robe, blend into the terrace crowd.
“Caine, back.”
[Last burst, then join.]
Boom! Kaboom!
The grandest firework yet paints the sky as footsteps tap behind.
“Talented. What can’t you do? Could make a living at this.”
“Nonsense.”
“But Senior, that was cool.”
Caine furrows at our words. Teasing him in groups is peak fun.
Giggling, I glance over—Bervert, sky-gazing, brushes hair back, bows her head. Our eyes lock.
Coincidental. Inevitable.
Her gaze tangles; Bervert curves pink lips in a sorry-from-earlier nod, tilting her head soft and plush.
Doesn’t work on me, of course.
‘Not an instant kill, at least.’
No vibe for slipping off alone. Tasting event, crowd’s thick anyway.
‘Honey trap?’
Like last time? Bervert, failure’s the mother of success, but same ploy twice is lazy.
I smirk at her dewy upward gaze, shy smile.
Thought it before.
I actually like older-sister types.
Useless taste here—wealth’s haze dulled it, no reactions.
“Sorry about earlier. Tell me your name? I’d love to send you clothes.”
Bervert weaves the crowd to me, cheeks flushing girlish. I smile softly.
I keep dangers close to watch.
“I’m Adelian.”
“Ah, the young lord of House Kruger. I’m Bervert.”
She peeks up, eyes dropping shyly, rims pinkening faintly, breath quickening a touch.
Acting (A) power, huh?
Plus Domination (B) and her unaware Brainwashing (A) trait.
No one resists her easy.
“...Can we meet again?”
“Anytime.”
Bervert and I smile at each other.