Chapter 192
Chapter 192
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 192
Chapter Title: How the Prince Makes Friends
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Sedes rubbed his forehead. It was a blessing that his son's friend had recovered fully, but talk of messengers roaming the Vernus Palace, and needing to keep his close friend in a safe place—it was all utterly baffling.
And a sanctuary in his office, of all places...? Wouldn't the training grounds, crawling with knights, be safer?
But his son's thoughts were different. His fresh, curly dark green locks shook wildly in refusal.
"The training grounds are full of dust and distractions. My close friend couldn't rest comfortably there."
"...I see."
"And there's no one I trust to leave my close friend with but Your Majesty."
At those words, Sedes couldn't suppress the smile creeping onto his lips. It felt so gratifying to be trusted like this.
"Ahem... well... if that's the case, then there's no helping..."
"Pfft!"
"......"
Abel's burst of laughter made his smile plummet. Abel quickly composed himself and wiped the grin from his face, but he couldn't escape the king's sharp glare.
"Prime Minister, go inside and get to work."
"Ah, no, ahem, not at all, Your Majesty. Please continue. Ah, shall I look after young Nil? I can take good care of him."
Sedes narrowed his eyes at the confident reply. It was obvious the Prime Minister would pester the boy's brains out with questions the moment he was left alone with his son's friend. Just yesterday, he'd thrown a fit about how the Sirentea was about to bear fruit—what were they to do?
"...You're not looking after him; he'll be the one looking after you."
"Then I can be well looked after."
"Haa..."
Sedes rubbed his dry face. Honestly, having his son's friend around wasn't a big deal, but there was a council meeting soon.
At that moment, the cutest, most lovable son in the world gazed up at him pitifully, like a kitten that had fallen in the water.
"Couldn't you...?"
Sedes squeezed his eyes shut.
"......Do as you like."
"No matter how I think about it, this is insane! Apologize to the Empire right now...!"
"Mind your words. That was a legitimate demand, and the agreement is finalized."
"But if they use this as an excuse to start a war, we're done for...!"
"We certainly can't ignore the Empire's power..."
"We need to back down now!"
"Why don't you just naturalize in the Empire while you're at it!"
Sedes watched the council meeting devolve into its usual chaos, feeling a deep sense of disillusionment. How could there be no progress at all?
But the real issue was elsewhere. Yes, it was a mess, but no different from the norm. In fact, today's chaos was quieter than most.
Everyone was too busy gawking at his son's friend.
"Ahaha, my close friend eats so well. Here, have some more."
"......"
Crunch crunch crunch.
Even amid all this, he ate with such gusto. He accepted everything offered without complaint, but the young marquis presenting the treats seemed even happier than the one eating them.
"...But who on earth is that child...?"
"...The 2nd Prince's close friend...?"
"...That rumored...?"
Sedes noticed some nobles whispering about his son's friend. It was understandable. A commoner child plopped down in a council meeting even princes couldn't attend? Eyes would naturally turn.
And the looks? Snow-white hair, no face veil to hide those enigmatic eyes sparkling like black opals.
'...I asked him to wait in the office...'
Sedes shot a glance at his son's brazen friend, who had snuck in so boldly despite hiding, then turned back to the reports. He'd nodded vaguely when asked to stay put, but... to follow so openly?
Even if he'd muffled his presence, the shadows would have spotted him...
'...Abel's doing.'
If the Prime Minister had arranged it, the other servants wouldn't have dreamed of stopping the boy trailing openly—they'd assume he was meant to be there. But what could be done? The water was already spilled.
And when Marchioness Francesca spotted his son's friend, she'd fussed over him and plopped him on her lap, ruining any chance to shoo him out.
Not only that. With Baron Allie, riding high lately, showing familiarity and goodwill, the other nobles' curiosity was piqued too.
Above all...,
"Heh heh, little one, try this too."
"What a pretty little thing."
"Chews so well, doesn't he."
"......"
The duke and his noble faction arrived late, spoiling for a fight—that was the biggest factor. In that brief gap, the infuriating little friend had already won over the venerable elders.
Rushing straight to the authoritative old men, grabbing their hands, beaming—that cunning.
For a moment, Sedes shivered with goosebumps.
By the time the noble faction arrived, it was too late. Their shit-eating expressions were a sight to behold. Especially when his son's friend waved hello at the duke—that was the peak.
"Close friend, close friend, shall I bring more treats...?"
Bang!
"What the hell is this farce?!"
Someone slammed the table and bellowed. It was Count Calips, mid-rant about paying reparations to the Empire.
"Marchioness Francesca, have some decorum. Can't you see we're in a meeting? Bringing a brat to the sacred council—what a disgrace...!"
This is why the young ones... Count Calips sat roughly, clicking his tongue openly. It happened often, given the marquis's youth.
But the nickname-worthy young marquis wasn't one to back down easily...
"Haha, Count Calips, is that how you submit reports to the sacred council?"
"Wh-what?!"
"My close friend could write better with his feet. Right, close friend?"
At the question, his son's friend tilted his head, set down his cookie, and picked up the report shoved in front of him. He skimmed a few pages and nodded.
"Ehehehehe!"
The young marquis roared with laughter. Sedes had to fight the urge to rub his forehead.
"That impudent little...!"
"Enough."
As Count Calips was about to explode, Sedes spoke up.
"Stay on topic. Marchioness Francesca, focus."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The young marquis replied with a sly grin. Meanwhile, his son's friend snuck a glance, then quickly popped the half-eaten cookie into his mouth.
Sedes glared subtly at the infuriating boy, then nodded at Abel.
"Prime Minister, continue."
"Yes. After the Mage Tower's collapse, we demanded reparations from the Empire in turn, and though time has passed, they're not responding directly—they're gauging the situation..."
It was a long explanation, but the gist was this: Our strong stance has them treading carefully. Even if retaliation comes, we're prepared—so shut up.
"So there's a guild to replace the Mage Tower?"
"Yes."
The replacement guild was his son's friend's guild. Naturally, complaints erupted.
"Absurd! How can a guild replace a centuries-old Mage Tower?!"
"Indeed. We barely have temples to purify magic stones. We're selling raw stones cheap to the Empire and importing refined ones—what use is a replacement guild? Does the Mage Association even know?"
"Of course they do."
"...?"
But talks with the Mage Association chairman were already done. The chairman eyed the magic-illiterate outsiders pityingly and spoke.
"That guild has a technique to refine magic stones without holy power. They have systematic magic theory texts that make the Mage Tower's grimoires look tempting. We'll soon be a magic powerhouse."
"What...?"
"The Empire's mages will come study here before long. Hahaha!"
"...?"
Doubt bloomed on the nobles' faces, but the chairman laughed heartily, slapping Baron Allie's back beside him.
"You've all heard about Allie Trading Company supplying magic tools lately?"
Realization dawned, faces paling in shock. Rumors had swirled about Allie branching into magic tools. Everyone assumed they'd poured gold into a deal with the insular Mage Tower—but no.
"Don't tell me that guild...?"
"Ahem, yes. They graciously contacted me first for an exclusive supply contract."
Morris emphasized 'exclusive' with a beaming smile. Faces of nobles with their own small trading firms stiffened. Already soaring, now magic tools too—this was monopoly incarnate.
"...Isn't that too much?"
"Monopolizing such profits alone..."
"The royals should intervene..."
The nobles murmured uncomfortably. Aside from Baron Allie, only earls and above attended—easy targets.
"Ahem, political power corrupts, but so does economic power concentrated in one."
"Haha, I agree."
Morris responded coolly to the jab.
"No need to worry. My exclusive is only for master-crafted magic tools above a certain level."
"And that level is...?"
"We don't exclusive common ones available at the Mage Tower. Only rare auction-level ones. Alas, I have none on me to show."
Sedes, struck by a thought, spoke up.
"Ah, I have one."
"Pardon?"
"Birthday gift."
Sedes rummaged in his robes. He'd received it from his son's friend that morning, with an apology for ruining his birthday. Sedes hadn't cared much for his own celebration, so he'd brushed it off.
Click. He opened the small box. Truth be told, he was seeing its contents for the first time too. Inside lay a crude wooden ring.
"Hm..."
Seeing it, Sedes regretted chiming in. Etched with indecipherable runes, it was too roughly carved for a gift—almost rude.
Then Baron Allie, recognizing it, let out a short gasp.
"Ah, that's Elfwood."
"...You know it?"
"Yes. I sourced some at the master's request."
Sedes didn't know its value, but 'Elfwood' sounded nice. Perhaps made thinking of his half-elf lover.
"Valuable?"
"Not hard to obtain. Just..."
"...Remarkably skilled, I see."
As Morris trailed off awkwardly at a curious noble's question, the grim-faced Mage Association chairman interjected.
"Your Majesty, Elfwood is notoriously tricky to work. Only a rare few high elves—who converse with trees—can handle it, hence the name. It amplifies mana, so mages study it, but its sensitivity yields little success— a mysterious wood."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. Even same tree varies by spot: some crumbles by hand, others defy axes. The ring's bumps are likely why."
"I see."
Sedes glanced at his son's friend and nodded vaguely. Mana-visible eyes? Shaping wood wouldn't be hard.
Skeptical nobles now eyed the ring intently at the chairman's words. But he wasn't done.
"However... that's probably not a magic tool."
"...Hm?"
What now? His son's friend had given it as one.
"Elves only make bows and arrows from it. Ah, unlike normal, Elfwood ones retain aura briefly after leaving the body. Each arrow hits like a swordmaster's aura shot..."
"Nonsense!"
Count Calips cut in, glancing at the swordmaster duke.
"Exaggeration. If arrows rivaled swordmaster aura blasts, elves would rule. Right?"
"No exaggeration. As I said, only near-extinct high elves—and few—can process it. To them, it's a final weapon."
Irked by the interruption, the chairman frowned slightly, then addressed Sedes.
"Your Majesty."
"What."
"That gift might be the master's subtle proposal."
"What do you...?"
Sedes's brow arched at the unexpected speculation. A glance at his son's friend showed a subtle headshake.
"It shows he can process Elfwood himself...!"
"No. It isn't."
Sedes cut off the derailment. He took the ring from the box and slipped it on.
"My son—no, the master—gave it as a magic tool. Said it has defensive spells. Infuse mana and..."
"Wait, Your Majesty! Untested tools are dangerous...!"
Too late. The ring glowed brilliantly at the casual mana infusion, then...
Shhh...
...scattered to dust.