The Prince Who Chose to Stay
As a child, Melchior had never held the slightest interest in hunters.
He looked at Alice, lying on the sickbed with that faint, subtle smile, and thought.
In the royal court, talk of that sort had always been plentiful.
Hunters were butchers who forgot governance entirely — who did nothing but kill monsters and claim land. Cartadia endured as it did because of the royal family's work fortifying the kingdom from within.
So he had disliked hunters.
Melchior was that kind of person. What he disliked, he disliked. What he liked, he liked. He could decide without hesitation.
Looking back now, he wondered whether the ministers around him had been goading him all along — trying to drive a wedge between him and the Second Princess, his younger sister Adelaide.
Because hunters were nothing like the image he had held of them.
He had no intention of blaming those ministers, though. In his private view, they had simply been picking sides for their own futures.
Melchior closed his eyes and asked Alice, who still wore that slight smile:
"Are you happy?"
Alice nodded.
"Yeah."
At the news that she would become a Master Hunter, she looked thoroughly relieved.
She had toppled a great enemy and been rewarded with the rank of Master Hunter — of course she would be glad.
The slight smile faded; she returned to her usual expression.
Melchior left her there and rose.
"Then rest easy. We'll meet again once you're better."
Alice gave no reply.
Melchior left the tent. Biopia followed behind him.
Melchior clenched his fist.
The way she had been ready to die just to kill Disastro.
In that moment, Alice had soared high into the sky and driven her greatsword into Disastro's body, clinging on as if she might fall at any second, stubbornly climbing onto its back.
He had watched every instant of it, afraid that if he looked away for even a moment she would somehow slip and fall.
"……."
Melchior still could not forget that moment.
Recalling it again, cold sweat beaded on his palms.
Anyone who had seen that would have thought the same thing, wouldn't they?
He was still an inadequate prince. That was what Melchior believed.
Alice had pushed herself that far because of him.
It was fortunate she had succeeded. If she had failed…
Melchior shook his head.
It hadn't happened. Don't think about it.
He spoke quietly to Biopia.
"It was truly dangerous."
Biopia agreed.
"Yes, it was. Your Highness going out there was dangerous, and so was the hunter."
But Biopia meant something else entirely.
She was scolding Melchior for rushing onto the battlefield while Disastro was still alive.
With nothing to say to that, Melchior offered the first excuse that came to mind.
"But the other soldiers had no room to spare, did they?"
"Your Highness needs to think a little more about your own station."
"Better than standing still and making noise, wouldn't you say?"
Melchior spoke while gazing at the sky.
Biopia watched him for a moment, then changed the subject.
"Your Highness."
"Hmm?"
"After this, your standing in the royal family will grow. Every report has gone up. His Majesty will be pleased as well, I'm sure."
"I suppose so."
Melchior had come here because the Kespiraatos subjugation had been taken from him.
Adelaide had claimed her own achievements separately, so by the king's order Melchior had stood on the front lines of the anomalies and worked alongside the hunters.
Then he had been swept into something unexpected.
Now he surely had enough power to push Adelaide aside and then some.
Subjugating an Elder Species of a low-grade monster versus subjugating a supreme-grade monster.
Even a child on the street would know which was more dangerous.
Right now he could leave this wasteland, dump the remaining anomaly work on his younger sister, and further cement his place in the royal court.
Having brought down Disastro, Melchior had that right.
But he did not.
Biopia asked him.
"Are you truly not planning to return?"
Melchior said evenly.
"That's right."
He still did not want to go back.
He wanted to investigate this ruined land.
For that, he would remain in this wasteland with the remaining hunters and soldiers.
Biopia looked at him and smiled with quiet satisfaction.
"You've changed a great deal. And I mean that sincerely — not as a joke."
Melchior spoke as if joking.
"Does my scribe find my changing rather unwelcome?"
"Of course not."
Biopia replied in a calm tone.
"I simply… have been waiting for Your Highness to become king. But you keep distancing yourself from the path to the throne, so I feel a little frustrated. Did I pick the wrong side? If I'd known, I should have attached myself to the princess… that sort of thing."
"Attach yourself to my sister, is it…"
Melchior mulled over Biopia's words and laughed.
"Scribe, have you gone mad?"
"Yes, well, staying in the wasteland this long does seem to have driven me a bit mad. For my sake at least, won't some crumbs fall my way?"
She was clearly mad.
Melchior shook his head at Biopia's brazen approach.
Suddenly a cold wind blew across the wasteland.
December was approaching.
Watching the sky, which had begun to darken earlier than before, Melchior said to Biopia:
"Winter is nearly here. Scribe, I'll prepare a scarf for you."
A scarf?
Biopia replied with a displeased look.
"Uh… not that. You know what I mean."
"What, then."
"A promotion… or a special rank advancement…"
That damned promotion talk again.
Melchior looked at Biopia, who was practically singing the same tune, with something like pity.
If she just kept quiet, he would promote her on his own — but her mouth was always the problem.
"The way you keep bringing up promotions with me, it seems my scribe has grown tired of her work. How about a recommended resignation? Don't refuse. I'll see that your pension is quite generous."
"Please don't fire me. The pension part is fine, though."
Biopia shook her head as if the idea were horrifying.
Melchior watched her break into a cold sweat and snorted a laugh.
"Don't worry about the promotion. When we return, I'll give you everything you ask for."
He looked at Biopia.
Among the ministers who watched his every move in the kingdom, she was one of the few women of his own age who felt like a friend.
Biopia usually slacked off because she hated working, yet she did whatever was assigned better than anyone — never once giving anyone grounds to find fault.
He had brought her along on this operation for exactly that reason.
"The surface work is finished, but this land still holds many secrets. I intend to uncover them. We still have much to do here."
Melchior regarded Biopia and said:
"Until we return, assist me diligently, Biopia. Later… I'll repay you twofold."
Biopia blinked in surprise, then answered at once.
"You're stating the obvious."
Even without the prince saying so, Biopia had intended to stay here with him.
It wasn't that she particularly wanted a reward. Of course she was currently riding the prince's coattails.
Even if this rope turned out to be a rotten one that never led to the throne, it didn't matter.
Biopia chuckled and said:
"I'll help to the end. In exchange, I'm looking forward to that scarf."
"Haha, I said it as a joke and you're taking it seriously."
"Would you like me to hit you, Your Highness?"
"Insubordination, is it?"
The prince sometimes seemed unaware of the goodwill he himself had built up.
In my view, human relationships were the clearest expression of the fact that people are social beings.
Through others, you could see what kind of person someone had been.
Originally, I hadn't had many friends.
I wasn't an especially active type to begin with, and though I'd had several friends in high school, life had pulled us apart until contact dwindled and we became little more than acquaintances.
After becoming a university student, life had been even lonelier than high school. A pandemic had been spreading at the time, so everything was online lectures — no friends, not a single familiar face.
Even after I started working, nothing changed. When I quit midway and took time off, the people I might have confided in were already gone.
Looking back now, it wasn't that I had few friends — I had none.
Had I been a good person?
I couldn't give a definite answer to that question.
That was still true even now.
Even so, I felt I had lived well since coming to this world.
After the prince and the scribe's visit, word must have spread that I was awake, because various people came to see me.
The first to arrive were Kyle and Oflo.
The unusual part was that Kyle was walking around with splints on both legs, leaning on crutches.
Injuries from catching me when I fell.
"…Your legs. Are they okay?"
"Ahh, it's nothing. Just a little strain on the bones. Rest and they'll heal right up. Honestly I feel like I could take these off now, but…"
Kyle said this while glancing sidelong at Oflo.
Oflo sighed and shook his head.
"Take them off? Don't be an idiot. Rest properly. You'll be fine again within a week. Try walking around too soon and you'll make it worse."
A week. Monstrous regenerative ability.
As expected, the humans of this place had specs on a completely different level from the species I knew as human.
I myself, having shrugged off Disastro's attacks, was probably something beyond human at this point.
Out of nowhere, Kyle grinned and whispered to me.
"So, how does it feel to become my junior?"
"……."
Feelings or whatever — I just didn't have any particular thoughts about it.
I stared blankly at Kyle.
He wanted an answer, but I had nothing to say.
Faced with that burning gaze, I reluctantly offered a small lie.
"…Yeah. It's good."
Kyle's face lit up at once.
He seemed like the type who enjoyed looking after others.
During the Disastro fight he had saved other people besides me, after all.
I conveyed my sincere thanks to Kyle.
"Thanks for saving me."
Hearing my greeting, Kyle blinked, then shrugged.
"What, we help each other out."
He said it with a gesture that looked almost embarrassed.
Oflo ignored him and fixed his gaze on me.
"You heard from His Highness that the Association President summoned you, I take it."
"Yeah."
"…Well then, congratulations in advance. If you have time later, I'd like to talk more."
Oflo seemed quite interested in me.
We were people who shared the trait of being able to handle multiple weapons.
Master Hunters generally could, but I was talking about three or four or more.
"Sure."
At my answer, Oflo fumbled for words, then continued.
"And thank you for looking after Brother Matillo."
He said it with a soft smile.
"The ballista, the goggles, the mask, Dragon Bane… all of that was your plan, wasn't it. Without any one of them, this hunt would have been difficult. In the end, Disastro fell because of you. Remarkable."
Dragon Bane had been a coincidence, but.
Rather than explain the circumstances, I simply nodded quietly.
If you just stay still, half the work is done.
When I nodded with composed confidence, Oflo said:
"Yes — you don't show off. If it were Kyle, he'd be making a fuss. Truly the bearing of an honorable hunter. You've done well. Rest thoroughly."
"Hey, why am I the example?"
"You be quiet and come along."
With that day as their last, Kyle and Oflo left.
Not just leaving the tent — they departed entirely for their own operational area.
We would meet again when the time came. The anomalies weren't over yet.
I lay still and watched people come and go.
It wasn't only those two who came here.
Comrades worried about other patients came and went frequently as well.
From the farthest bed, I watched it all.
They laughed and chattered about how fortunate it was to be alive, or shared grief over someone's death.
I hadn't particularly spoken with them, but inwardly I rejoiced and mourned alongside them.
I couldn't eat properly, so a doctor fed me. It was soup made from ground corn — I was hungry enough that it was decent enough.
And around the time the lights beyond the tent grew dim.
Pina and Noah came to visit together.