Chapter 293: Is He Going Through Puberty? (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 293: Is He Going Through Puberty? (1)
A path walked in ignorance of its end.
A path walked toward its end.
Franz's world was not wide. Calian knew this, of course, but Franz himself had learned it all too well this time. He had lived his life without ever knowing what the seed of a banana tree looked like, or what the ocean sounded like when trapped inside a seashell. In that sense, his world was by no means wide.
And because of that, there was something else he didn't know.
He had assumed everyone walked without knowing the end. He thought people lived as if death did not exist, much like Silike, who now only crossed his mind on rare occasions.
Then, he saw a crazy bastard.
If you asked why that crazy bastard was called crazy, there was nothing else to say. A crazy mage was called crazy for having abandoned so much of their humanity, but this crazy bastard was on an entirely different level.
That crazy bastard walked toward his end.
In Franz's narrow world, no one lived like that. Even in his slightly expanded world, that crazy bastard was still the only one.
—If I had dealt with my regrets one by one, could I have held on for just one more day?
Before coming here, in the early dawn on the rocky mountain.
The royal carriage had been parked between Raven’s resting spot and the rest of the group. Franz, who was inside, had overheard the crazy bastard's faint, broken words to Kyrie. Since the man was bound to get caught doing something anyway, Franz had simply listened, pretending he hadn't heard.
—If I had bought myself just one more day, wouldn't something have changed, even a little?
In any case, that crazy bastard—Calian—was just that.
He was a man who lived solely to buy that single day. More diligently and desperately than anyone else, he lived toward the end as if each day were his last. He lived preparing for that end, so he would have no regrets when it finally came.
That was why Franz believed there were two kinds of people in this world: those who walked without knowing the end, and those who walked toward it.
But then, he met one more.
Someone who was not ignorant of the end, yet did not prepare for it. A person who walked to avoid the end.
“I can’t tell if this is a coincidence, or if you were waiting.”
If one walked deep into the rear garden of the Secritia Royal Palace annex, they would pass a field of nameless red flowers and reach a green garden thick with nameless shrubs. After finishing the breakfast hosted by Chase, Franz had walked out to clear his heavy chest. As he looked around, thinking he should ask his younger brother or Chase later what those red flowers and shrubs were called, someone quietly approached.
A man who closely resembled Chase.
A man said to also resemble the Royal Brother of Secritia. Yet, a man Franz believed did not resemble them in the slightest.
“Doesn’t that depend on your perspective?”
Franz had neither hoped to run into him nor been waiting, but he replied calmly. Devlan, wearing a gentle smile on his cold face, nodded.
“I met your younger brother a moment ago. We had quite a conversation. Did you happen to know?”
“That’s not my concern.”
It was remarkably similar to the way Calian spoke.
Not his tone or voice, but his manner of speaking was very much alike. Just as he said, the meaning changed completely depending on how one interpreted it—much like how Devlan or Chase often spoke.
Did he mean he had met Devlan by chance, or that he had been waiting? Did he mean he was deliberately trying not to care that Devlan had met Calian, or that he simply had no interest?
“The two of you seem so different, yet you share many similarities.”
“This is the first I’m hearing that we’re alike.”
“How unexpected. To my eyes, you resemble each other quite a bit. In fact, since everyone said you were so different, I wondered how you could walk the same path together. Now I think I understand.”
“It’s not because we’re alike, but because of what we were taught.”
“Is that what you were taught?”
“I learned, first and foremost, that depending on the situation, one must sometimes hold hands and sometimes turn one’s back.”
Franz, who had no way of knowing that Calian believed the Kairis royal family's silence was a trait inherited from Sispanian, had a different thought. Calian’s talkativeness must be a trait of the Secritia royal family.
“Are you merely acting as you were taught?”
“I only put what I learned into practice as needed.”
“I am curious about what you learned, from whom, and how.”
Otherwise, there was no explanation for why Devlan was so talkative, not to mention Calian, who never stopped yapping, and Chase, who was also quite noisy. Since their family environment didn't seem like one where they would gather for harmonious chats, Franz could only assume it was a family trait.
“I’ve learned many things from my brother.”
Growing slightly exhausted, Franz replied with a hint of annoyance.
“Did you only learn, without teaching your brother much in return?”
“I’m not generous enough to teach anyone.”
“Then your brother must have a very generous heart.”
“He’s just a meddler.”
It seemed Devlan had finally picked up on his annoyance.
At those last words, hardly fitting for a prince, Devlan let out a chuckle. But it ended with a cough.
“It seems you need to rest, so I shall take my leave,” Franz said, watching Devlan cough for a moment.
While Calian had poor speech habits, he at least asked for permission to end a conversation. Franz, on the other hand, maintained his formal etiquette toward a foreign king while unilaterally deciding to end the discussion and withdraw. According to protocol, neither was correct.
“It truly is an amusing day. In the morning, your brother entertained me, and now you bring me amusement like this.”
You might be amused, but I’m not.
I feel like I’ve spoken ten days’ worth of words right here.
Come to think of it, the number of times he’d been forced to speak at length had been increasing lately. Most of those conversations had been with his younger brother, regarding Devlan.
“I don’t believe we are in a relationship where we converse for amusement, Your Highness.”
“Is that so?”
When Franz replied without hiding his discomfort, Devlan laughed again.
“Tell me, what have you wagered? What did you put on the line to take what belonged to your opponent? That is what I wish to hear from you.”
And then he spoke again.
Devlan.
How annoying.
It was even more annoying because he felt he now knew where a certain someone got the personality to bark as much as he pleased, whether others liked it or not.
“I have never wagered anything,” Franz replied, his voice thick with that very annoyance.
“And why is that?”
“Because everything valuable enough to wager was already in my possession.”
“You mean you already had everything, so there was no need to steal. Then, what if—”
“If what Your Highness needs is to live.”
Franz cut Devlan off. Before Devlan could speak again, Franz said what he needed to say.
“Wager something of equal value. I will tell you how to obtain it.”
A strange gleam flickered in Devlan’s eyes.
Finally, it was quiet.
* * *
Four.
Four warriors of the Great Desert lunged at once, their swords glowing with the exact same red light. Since they had come knowing of Calian’s swordsmanship, they were undoubtedly formidable.
Glancing back, Calian let out a hollow laugh and muttered, “Did he mature now that he’s a year older? He’s being so obedient.”
True to his words, Franz was listening to his younger brother remarkably well today. Meaning, he was staring at the cats without paying any mind to Calian's situation.
“Well, now. Is it indifference, or trust… or are the cats just that amazing?”
Feeling as if he’d just been blindsided for a second time, Calian set aside his monologue and moved.
Setting aside the fact that Franz probably didn't have much interest in him to begin with, Calian weighed whether it was excessive trust or if the cats were just that amazing, and decided to go with excessive trust. It would be too unfair to think he was suffering like this because his older brother didn't care if he died, so long as he got to watch two cats.
He had called over the fifteen Secritian knights and told them to look at his older brother and learn from him. In other words, he’d told them not to get involved and risk getting cut down. Instead, they should go stand next to that highly efficient young man—the one trying to make his brother's death anniversary coincide with his own birthday—and watch the cats with him.
He’d said this because he knew that even if those knights changed their minds and attacked, Franz would hold out reasonably well until he arrived. Still, just in case, he had warned them that if any of them weren't actually knights, it wouldn't end with just a broken bone, so they had better wait quietly.
Clang!
With a heart that didn't know whether to laugh or cry, Calian roughly cleared his surroundings, parried two blades lunging from either side, and moved.
The enemies blocked Calian’s sword as it swung from the shadows.
After blocking a downward strike and a lateral slash, Calian concealed himself once more. He began to engage the four of them, preventing them from getting anywhere near Franz.
First, my brother met Devlan, and as soon as we stepped outside the palace, Zeon came looking.
Franz had used him as bait.
Franz was not the type to pester him to go see the ocean at a time like this. Since Zeon's warriors had appeared the moment Franz admitted to having a scheme, it was clear he was the one who had drawn them out. The problem was that he hadn't told Calian what that scheme was.
Letting out a wry laugh at the thought of whether Franz truly intended to make today his death anniversary, Calian thrust his sword forward once more.
Whose doing is this? It shouldn't be Devlan's.
If the warriors had ambushed them the moment they left the palace, it would mean Devlan and Zeon were connected.
…Or rather, it was a trick to make them believe so.
Of course, there could be a connection. Calian had considered it himself. However, Devlan was not someone who would make a move so foolish that even Evan wouldn't think of it. If he were that simple, he wouldn't have spent all this time probing him and Franz. If he had wanted to wipe out the entire group, poison would have been far more effective. Tampering with the food or water would have easily eliminated everyone except Calian, so why bother with such a troublesome method?
Clang! Clang!
If not Devlan, then it was an insider who knew of the princes' sudden outing.
Or, it’s the real Devlan, counting on me to think it wasn't his doing.
The possibility that he had acted openly, precisely because he knew Calian would assume he wouldn't do something so reckless.
“The suspense is killing me.”
In any case, solving the mystery could wait. First, he needed to soothe his mind, which had been left in disarray after being blindsided.
Whoosh!
Clang! Clang!
Sending four daggers made of Aura flying, Calian kicked off the ground.
His slender finger pointed toward one of the four, a red-haired warrior. With the sound of something sharp and thin slicing through the air, a translucent blue light cut through the void.
The red-haired warrior deflected the dagger flying toward him.
He failed to see the long, thin object flying right behind it.
Whoosh!
Only then did he realize Calian was a mage.
Crack!
The price of that realization was quite painful.
A spear of wind pierced his body, its power tearing and gouging the wound.
Thanks to a last-second evasion, his heart wasn't pierced, but a fist-sized chunk of his flank was torn away. Staggering, the man propped himself up with his sword. As red energy gathered, his wound began to heal.
Calian lunged at him.
Killing intent.
A killing intent that was both subhuman and beastlike—or perhaps superhuman, like that of an absolute being. It set every one of the red-haired warrior's nerves on edge.
He raised his sword toward the crimson eyes flying straight at him.
Clang!
Gritting his teeth, he deflected Calian’s sword. Then, forcing his unresponsive body to move, he swung his own sword downward.
At the same time, a spear of wind formed behind Calian and shot toward him. Mana, carrying the raw power of wind spinning at a terrifying speed, rushed at the warrior.
Whoosh!
Clang!
The man deflected the spear.
He barely managed to block Calian’s sword that followed immediately after.
Calian vanished.
The man focused, scanning his surroundings.
In that brief moment, Calian sent daggers and spears flying to halt the other three assassins before revealing himself behind the red-haired warrior.
Swoosh!
Sensing a sword thrusting at an invisible speed, the red-haired warrior hastily ducked. With a gush, blood spilled from his torn wound, soaking the white sand.
Whoosh!
Calian’s attacks did not stop.
In the span of two breaths, six blows were exchanged. Some attacks flew, while others lunged. The man retreated, evading Calian's onslaught. Knowing that allowing even a single strike would instantly sever his thread of life, he gritted his teeth and dodged.
Clang! Clang!
Calian kicked off the ground once more. Spears of wind flew with him. The man quickly spun his sword to block them.
His healing wound tore open again. The other warriors rushed toward Calian, but after deflecting their three swords, Calian relentlessly pursued the red-haired one.
The red-haired warrior frowned. Because he had to keep moving, healing was not easy. Looking down briefly at the dripping blood, Calian spoke in an emotionless voice.
“It seems the others can’t heal you. Is it because they aren’t healers?”
If the other three could use healing powers on others, the warrior’s wound would have already closed. He had confirmed it: unless one was a healer, they could not heal another’s wounds. That must be why Devlan had specifically sought a healer, rather than Zeon.
“That’s a relief, at least.”
An even denser killing intent swept over them, as if to snare the man's feet.
“…I can just eliminate you, then.”
A whispering, beautiful voice reached the red-haired warrior's ears.
Before he knew it, Calian appeared right in front of him and thrust his red sword. Sensing a chilly wind from behind, the man spun in the opposite direction.
The magic in front of him, and the sword behind him.
Which should he block first?
His hesitation did not last long.
Whoosh!
Thud-thud-thud! Clang!
Twisting his waist, the man deflected several forearm-sized wind spikes, then immediately spun back to strike down Calian's sword.
At that moment, the sword in Calian's hand vanished.
His opponent's blade met only air, and the red-haired warrior lost his balance. Calian didn't miss the split-second opening.
Slash!
A red light flashed, cutting through the darkness.
A long line appeared on the man's neck.
As if there was no need to watch what would happen next, Calian didn't spare another glance at the collapsing body and took flight once more.
“One.”
As one of their comrades fell to the relentless onslaught, the remaining three rushed toward him.
Moving lightly, Calian deflected two attacks and dodged one. He lunged toward the second warrior, who had long, braided dark brown hair.
Death seeped into the shadows.
* * *
Franz did not take his eyes off the screen in his hand.
The two cats, having lost interest in his silent, staring face, had long since wandered off. Letting whatever the Relic was saying drift past his ears, Franz kept watching the screen.
—How did they suddenly appear? And why is Prince Franz there?
—The reason isn't what's important.
A faint light glowed from the bracelet on his left arm. Turning his head briefly to look toward Calian, Franz's eyes quietly darkened.
A head fell and rolled across the white sand.
Even in the darkness, the man's red hair was clearly visible.
Watching this silently, Franz cut off the mana he was channeling into the crystal plate.
—Come. Quickly. Bring that precious knight of yours.
—…Understood.
In any case, Franz had no intention of leaving Calian to fight alone. He set the crystal plate down on the ground and quietly took a step forward.
With a sharp shring, a highly unusual sword was drawn from an equally unusual scabbard. As the Secritian knights shifted warily, one corner of Franz's mouth curled upward.
“It would be best for you to pay me no mind.”
Neither interfering nor helping—it was best for them to do absolutely nothing here. Knowing this full well, Franz took another step through the silent knights when—
“If you leave the crystal plate on the sand, it will get scratched.”
A voice spoke from thin air.
And a face that was never, under any circumstances, welcome appeared.
Stopping in his tracks, Franz furrowed his brow.
“…What is this?”
As Calian always said, a surprise attack is best when given and received in turn.
“His Highness said that since Prince Franz—his incredibly fragile second brother and Vice-Commander who never listens to a word he says—is about due to blindside him, I should keep a close eye on you and stop you if you try to do anything strange.”
Duck Mom had been reinstated.