Chapter 130
Chapter: 130
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>Translator: penny
>Chapter: 130
>Chapter Title: Oracle (4)
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>In the Holy Emperor's office, the chief steward and administrative officers had been huddled together in a serious meeting since morning.
“What in the world is this?”
“Since His Highness the Prince sent it as a birthday gift, it surely can’t be an ordinary item.”
What they were gathered around was an eyepatch inside a small box.
The white rabbit-shaped eyepatch had cute eyes and a mouth delicately embroidered on it. Of course, the problem was that no one there could recognize it as character merchandise.
“This is troubling. We must find an answer to present to His Majesty before he arrives here.”
Louis rubbed his chin with a grave expression, and the young administrative officer Dorian offered a safe response.
“Perhaps it’s some folk craft from the Barsha tribesmen. I hear His Highness Owen has been exchanging with Volanta lately?”
“Hmm…”
It didn’t garner much agreement from the group. For something made by southern pagans, the material was too fine and the finish too impeccable. It was clearly a custom order from a renowned tailor shop.
Then one administrative priest spoke up with a slightly peculiar look on his face.
“It’s strange. I don’t know what the embroidery means, but looking at it makes my chest tickle and my heart race. Isn’t it a bit cute?”
At that, the others jumped back in alarm, stepping away from the eyepatch.
“[Charm]?”
“Arrhythmia?”
“It might be some cursed object!”
Just as one tense priest was about to cast a blessing on the eyepatch.
“What are you all doing?”
“…Your Majesty!”
Everyone bowed awkwardly toward the Holy Emperor, who had strode into the office.
Seeing the priest holding a scripture in one hand and a rosary engraved with the Lord God’s emblem in the other, the Holy Emperor seemed to grasp the situation. He glanced down at the box the group surrounded and nodded.
“No need to worry. I sense no demonic energy. It’s merely a product of the mundane world.”
The administrative officers sighed in relief.
They had no idea what this “mundane world” His Majesty mentioned was, but it didn’t sound dangerous.
“So, Owen sent this as a birthday gift.”
The Holy Emperor tilted his head, pondering the deep intentions of the great one who had sent him this item of unknown purpose.
And his final conclusion was.
“Worrisome. It seems that child has been on the front lines too long. It’s about time he returned to the capital.”
“…”
Owen appeared to be showing temporary impaired judgment due to fatigue accumulated on the front lines.
“In any case, it’s quite cute to look at. Since it was sent with good intentions, perhaps I should display it somewhere.”
And so, the adorable rabbit eyepatch ended up hanging neatly on one wall of the Holy Emperor’s office.
* * *
That evening, Seongjin prepared for a rare outing.
As Edith helped him leisurely don his outer coat, the waiting Masain beamed brightly and said.
“Young Lord Scarzapino’s gathering is renowned as a social venue for promising young nobles. The youth who will shoulder Delcross’s future will surely exchange brilliant and sharp insights, won’t they? How exciting!”
He sounded as if he were attending himself, unusually upbeat.
And rightly so—the prince who had been holed up in the Pearl Palace training nonstop was finally engaging in proper social activity. Masain had thought all was well with no complaints, but apparently he’d been quietly worried.
“Who knows, maybe it’ll just be some casual chit-chat.”
Seongjin’s mind was solely on grilling that Scarzapino punk; he had no expectations for the gathering itself.
What else would a bunch of vigorous young men do when gathered?
In a world without idols, probably just gossip about actresses on Bertrand Street or critiques of famous courtesans. It wouldn’t be the serious debate club Sir Masain imagined.
But Masain thought differently.
“It’s a place where high priests, central nobles, and heirs of wealthy merchant houses gather. Even casual talk exchanges valuable information. Simply spending time there will let you feel the pulse of Delcross’s society and economy.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and I hear they occasionally host small performances. With invitations to the continent’s most famous bards and musicians, it’ll greatly aid in cultivating your accomplishments.”
“Hmm…”
Masain, who had received the finest education as an imperial scion in his youth, was worth heeding.
That was fine up to there. The problem came as Seongjin was about to board the carriage, when oblivious Edith casually remarked.
“Are you going with Sir Masain today? You’ve always gone alone quietly, Your Highness.”
“…Without an escort?”
“Yes, you’ve always ridden the carriage by yourself.”
Masain looked utterly shocked. In a trembling voice, he asked again.
“…You’ve been going outside the palace without an escort until now?”
Edith, oblivious to his plummeting mood, nodded innocently.
“Yes, it’s just a trip to the townhouse. And at the Scarzapino residence of all places—what need is there for an escort?”
“…!”
Masain’s pupils shook violently.
With a rigid face, he boarded the carriage. Even as it left the palace and clattered along the main avenue, he kept his mouth shut.
‘He’s gonna explode at the slightest touch…’
In the awkward silence, Seongjin glanced at him. Though seated quietly, Masain’s face was flushed red and pale by turns—a sight to behold.
Wow, tomorrow might mean group drills for the palace knights.
The Scarzapinos, known as one of Delcross’s wealthiest families, like other central nobles, had their main residence in the capital.
But they were known to mostly stay in a separate townhouse for convenience, owning the largest properties in the area and using them like multiple annexes.
This social gathering was in one such annex.
Upon arriving at the mansion, lit up conspicuously even from afar, an elderly butler who appeared to be the head servant came out to greet Seongjin.
He seemed momentarily flustered by the completely transformed prince and the burly knight standing staunchly beside him.
But as a seasoned servant, he quickly composed himself and bowed politely.
“I greet Prince Moreth, Your Highness. The young master has been eagerly awaiting your visit.”
Instead of guiding him, the old butler quietly eyed Masain, who was following behind Seongjin, giving him a hint.
“What rudeness is this…”
“Sir Masain.”
Seongjin stopped Masain, who looked ready to charge in.
“I’m fine, so don’t worry and wait here.”
Meanwhile, carriages carrying other young lords began arriving one after another.
Seeing them enter the mansion alone without escorts, Masain’s face finally softened a bit.
He’d recently sparred with the prince in mock battles and sensed his unusual combat prowess. Now at full Aura Level 7, Seongjin’s presence felt anything but light to him.
But still.
“Your Highness, if anything—anything at all—happens, you must let me know! Understood?”
His nanny instincts unyielding, Masain clung to Seongjin, pleading earnestly in a way embarrassing even before the old butler.
Come on, sir. Ease up. If something really happens, do you think I’d have time to send word?
Finally parting from Masain, Seongjin stepped inside the mansion.
But as he followed the old butler for a while, he noticed something odd. Instead of the main entrance to the banquet hall where the other young lords entered, he was being led to a dark corridor with narrow stairs.
He glanced at the butler, but the elderly man wore a serene expression, as if this were routine.
[Hmm, blood pressure and pulse are normal. No signs of tension.]
The Demon King murmured.
Seongjin sharpened his senses too, but aside from occasional passing servants, he felt no other presences.
‘Guess it really was always like this?’
Makes sense—no one would believe the notoriously worthless prince attended mainstream gatherings. This must’ve been his unconventional way.
“Then, please enjoy your time.”
Seongjin arrived at a small lounge on the second floor. It was like an open balcony overlooking the interior, giving a full view of the brightly lit banquet hall below.
Conversely, the dim lighting here made it hard to see from outside.
Seongjin sat in a small armchair by the railing and looked around. No matter how he scanned, it was a space for observing the hall with nothing else to do.
‘…No way he just watched the gathering from here? Seriously?’
What kind of guy was this Moreth lunatic? The more he learned, the less sense his actions made.
The banquet hall’s atmosphere was heating up lively.
One side had a long table with refreshments, liquor, and finger foods; in the center, an exotic minstrel with slightly dark skin sang softly.
A fair number of youths mingled freely in groups, chatting amiably.
‘Well… better than laughing pointlessly and bonding down there. This is more comfortable.’
[Sigh. What do you expect from a hermit loner obsessed with training?]
‘Shut up!’
With nothing particular to do, he listlessly draped his arms over the railing, watching idly, when he felt someone’s gaze.
Turning toward it, Seongjin recognized him immediately.
Sigismund’s eldest son, Orden.
The guy was looking straight up at Seongjin’s spot. He’d sensed the presence from afar.
He seemed to recognize Seongjin too, furrowing his brow, but realizing the situation’s delicacy, he turned away without acknowledging.
Around him clustered young lords with active auras.
Seongjin had teased him about celebrity syndrome at Salon de Mersy, but he was clearly a celebrity here. Flushed faces approaching from everywhere recalled Masain’s words about him being an idol among noble heirs.
‘A guy like that not being invited to mainstream gatherings would be the real oddity…’
Observing the hall, besides Orden, a few standouts caught his eye—centers of conversation groups, eyed with envy.
Over there, flashy attire suggested merchant heirs; a particularly jovial plump man led that cluster.
On this side, a neatly dressed youth reminiscent of Kenneth Digory passionately expounded to those around him.
As he gauged the vibe, someone addressed him from behind.
“Always a refreshing sight, isn’t it? There’s something special only youths of that age possess. Each harbors a little spark ready to blaze at any moment. Their potential is truly dazzling, wouldn’t you say?”
Turning, a fairly handsome young man approached with a smile. In the dim light, his deep teal eyes oddly resembled Isabella’s.
This must be Ricardo Scarzapino.
“Did you know? I’ve been waiting eagerly for news of you. Why no word at all?”
Forget his identity for a sec.
Even with an age gap, was this punk talking down to a prince?
“You the Young Lord Scarzapino?”
“…Hm?”
Seongjin glared sharply as he asked, and Ricardo tilted his head puzzledly.
“I’d heard rumors you’d changed a lot or lost your memories, but this is truly unexpected. You seem like a completely different person.”
The young-looking guy spoke with the weight of an elder. If he really was Sigurt Sigurson’s avatar, it made sense.
But his next words surprised even Seongjin.
“Yet what matters is that you’ve returned here. So, what amusing tale will you share with me today? My old friend, Delcross’s young oracle.”
…Oracle?