Chapter 7
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Strength Verification (3)
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The hunters in the Hunter Guild watched the sudden brawl between the noble young master and Chorak, thinking to themselves.
Chorak's showing off again, and now some pointless mess has broken out.
But the atmosphere wasn't all that serious.
For one, the noble-looking young man he was facing seemed like a good-natured guy.
If it had been someone who looked like they'd pick a fight over the slightest thing, the hunters would have banded together to grab Chorak and hold him back.
Plus, there was that bald bodyguard with a scar on his forehead standing by the noble young master's side—he looked anything but ordinary.
He seemed like he could properly step in if the young master was in any real danger.
So they cleared some space and watched.
They were curious about this noble young master's skills, after all.
And then they were stunned.
Splat!
"Gah!"
"That's five times now. Shall we go one more?"
The man who looked like a noble young master was completely toying with Chorak.
In stark contrast to his gentle, soft smile, he struck precisely at openings with concise efficiency, knocking Chorak down every time.
At first, Chorak—drunk as he was—thought it was just his own mistake.
The other hunters thought the same.
But after the second time, those thoughts vanished.
No matter how carelessly Chorak swung his sword, the noble young master effortlessly deflected the attacks, knocked him off balance, or parried to expose openings and claim victory.
And he did it all with tremendous ease.
The hunters realized that this noble young master with the mild smile was no ordinary aristocrat.
"What the hell just happened?"
"Chorak went down that easily?"
Chorak might be a lightweight, but he was still an experienced hunter with plenty under his belt.
No one had expected him to be played like this.
"No way he's from the Tolched family, right?"
"Tolched? Why would one of their young masters come all the way down here?"
Tolched.
One of the noble houses sworn in fervent loyalty to the imperial family, with territory relatively close to the village.
Rumor had it that the Tolched heirs trained rigorously in martial arts from a young age.
A noble who could toy with an experienced hunter at such a young age, with those fluid movements—it was easy to think of the Tolched family first.
Not a single hunter suspected he might actually be the empire's 9th Prince.
'Please, just let this end peacefully!'
Only the receptionist, who had glimpsed the imperial knight order's insignia from Gillek, knew Aren was royalty.
While facing off against Chorak, I could gauge my current strength from the reactions of the surrounding hunters.
Each time I beat him, they rubbed their eyes in disbelief and checked with each other, so this guy who was boozing in broad daylight must have been a fairly respected hunter in his own right.
But if even a respected hunter like him was this easy for me—someone who spars evenly with imperial knights—then I'd truly grown by leaps and bounds compared to before.
That fact made me even happier.
Not just the objective truth, but the way the hunters around me gawked in surprise at me.
It was nothing like the pitying looks or awkward glances from my siblings, retainers, or the knights who trained me, all because of the talent gap.
The twenty years of being pitied as a prince with no real prospects were finally behind me.
'Well, even leaving that era behind, I've still got to somehow survive crises that make it look like child's play.'
But for now, I was just thrilled at how much stronger I was getting and resolved to work even harder.
The most iconic event marking the shift of Savior of World's worldview to dark fantasy.
There were still three years until my younger brother's—the one hailed as the Blessed Prince, the 13th Prince—coming-of-age ceremony.
The story described how everything began to change after that event, so the Mad Witch showing up at my side would come afterward too.
Lost in those thoughts, I claimed my sixth victory over Chorak.
I extended a hand to the fallen Chorak and asked,
"Is this enough to handle a chiclek?"
"Y-yeah. More... than enough."
Chorak took my hand with a dazed look and stood.
"Thanks for going easy on me. Like I said, everything you eat here today is on me. Just tell the receptionist to put it on my tab."
Chorak's eyes sharpened back to life.
"Got it! Awesome! Free grub today!"
He seemed to have completely forgotten about losing to me six times straight as he hopped in place and dashed to a table.
The hunters shot him incredulous looks before dispersing to their own business, and I headed back to the reception desk where Gillek and Ridel waited.
"Alright, please process the chiclek subjugation request."
"Y-yes, sir!"
As the receptionist handled it, Ridel asked me,
"Any injuries, young master?"
"You saw it, Ridel. I didn't take a single hit."
"Yes, I saw it perfectly. I was just worried you might've twisted an ankle showing off."
"Ankles are fine too, so no worries."
"Impressive swordsmanship, young master."
Gillek praised my skills as well.
"But was there any need to do it six times?"
"Hmm~ I just got into it."
"You've grown quite the playful streak."
"Guess I'm just excited about the growth."
"......"
Gillek fell silent for a moment before nodding.
"It must be even more so for you, young master. Forgive my foolish self for failing to consider your feelings."
"Forgive what? It's because you taught me that I'm this strong now."
"An honor."
If I hadn't witnessed Gillek's masterful swordsmanship, it would've taken me much longer.
Gillek watched Aren speak of how he'd grown strong thanks to him and thought,
'Ah, Your Highness. Forgive this dullard.'
He had momentarily forgotten, swept up in the astonishing growth of Aren Eldiad—the empire's 9th Prince—over the past week as his imperial blood suddenly blossomed.
How he'd been treated all this time.
Due to his late-blooming talent, he'd been constantly compared to his siblings and, with no chance in the succession struggle, couldn't even stay in the palace. He'd been forced to leave the capital and relocate here.
Gillek couldn't even begin to imagine the humiliation and pain that must have caused.
'Twenty years since Your Highness was born! The suffering endured in those twenty years...!'
Oblivious to those feelings, Gillek had foolishly thought he was just being overly playful by testing his explosive new strength on some random hunter.
That's why he said to Aren,
"It must be even more so for you, young master. Forgive my foolish self for failing to consider your feelings."
'If His Highness won't forgive me, I'll offer this life in atonement.'
"Forgive what? It's because you taught me that I'm this strong now."
Gillek was deeply moved by Aren's forgiveness.
'How merciful! To pardon such insolence!'
"An honor."
'Your Highness, from now on, to let your talents shine even brighter! This Gillek vows to give his all!'
We left the guild and mounted the horses we'd taken to the village, heading to the grasslands where chiclets were said to appear.
The verdant plains were bursting with green.
Impossible to imagine they'd one day become the barren, gray wasteland of death from the game.
"Young master, there they are."
Where Gillek pointed was a monster resembling a chicken with an extraordinarily thick beak.
About three chiclets were visible.
"Alright, let's hunt some. Ridel, watch the horses from here."
"Got it. Be careful, Aren."
I dismounted with Gillek and walked into the grasslands.
With no one around, Gillek reverted to formal address.
"Your Highness, chiclets are nimble beasts. Best to sneak up for a surprise attack or read their movements and strike true."
"Like in spars with the knights?"
"Precisely."
"Then just watch from my side, Gillek."
"Understood. But I'll step in if it's dangerous."
"Yeah, I trust you."
We crossed the grasslands toward the chiclet flock.
Facing Chorak had let me gauge my strength among ordinary people.
Now it was time to test it against monsters.
I deliberately made noise so the chiclets would notice, and all three turned to stare at me.
-Kikot!
-Kkookot!
They looked a bit like chickens, but their cries were even shriller.
Will they charge or flee?
The chiclet flock's choice was...
-Kikoot!
To rush me all at once.
As the enemies charged together, I gripped my sword and focused on their movements.
Just like with Chorak, I read the three chiclets' actions effortlessly.
Whether they'd kick with their legs or peck with their beaks—their straightforward attacks were child's play compared to the feints I'd seen from knights.
And I knew exactly how to evade them.
I sidestepped the first chiclet's attack.
Slash!
And severed the neck of the nearest one.
Then, without pause,
Thrust!
I drove my sword through both remaining chiclets in one go.
The impaled chiclets didn't even scream as they slumped lifelessly.
I pulled my sword free from the chiclet and turned to Gillek.
"Looks like I didn't need any help after all, Gillek."
Gillek blinked, staring blankly at me.
"I-it seems so. As expected of Your Highness."
Huh? What was so surprising?