Chapter 187
Chapter 187
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 187
Chapter Title: Brantiia's New King
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“For now, tell me everything you know about Brantia’s new king.”
At Eugene’s sudden change in demeanor, the servant disguised as the prince lifted his chin with a touch of arrogance as he asked.
The kid was already showing signs of being a handful, but even among servants, one serving a prince had to be from a high noble family in the Roman Empire.
“Kiiiet? That pup daring to speak so boldly to my lordship! But with that many gold coins, even I’d let it slide. Ptooey, ptooey!”
Just like the spirit slurping away at the gold coins inside the money pouch, Eugene figured that level of cheekiness was tolerable, so he answered calmly.
“The king is the son of Count Krollmarin. He has the support of powerful families like Elrand, Brodin, and Dirak. And…”
“Skip the obvious stuff. Don’t you know anything personal? I heard he started as Duke Bartla’s slave and became a squire. Doesn’t that mean he lacks a bit of refinement?”
‘Is this punk picking a fight?’
But the question hadn’t come from the disguised servant—it was from the real prince.
As a member of the Roman Empire’s imperial family, the pinnacle of civilization and the world’s strongest power, he might very well view a backwater king of Brantia that way.
“Putting down unrest takes steel, not books. And Brantia’s king is a knight of considerable skill. I believe he’s more than qualified for the throne.”
“Hoo?”
The exclamation of admiration slipped from the real prince disguised as the servant.
As Eugene’s gaze turned toward him, the prince realized his mistake and quickly looked away, pretending nothing had happened.
‘His acting sucks. Still, gotta play along.’
Sensing the awkward atmosphere, the fake prince quickly spoke up.
“Ahem! I see. But from what I’ve heard, this Duke Bartla, who claims to be the king’s master and guardian, is supposed to be an incredible knight?”
“Well, I’ve heard he handles a blade decently enough.”
Even so, gilding his own face felt unbecoming, so Eugene brushed it off vaguely.
“More than decent, from the rumors. On our way here, I heard he’s a peerless knight with no equal in the world.”
“…I’ve heard some think that way, but it all seems a bit exaggerated.”
Eugene felt his toes curl in secondhand embarrassment.
But the prince, who had come all the way to this foreign land for leisure, apparently saw it differently.
“Ha! What do you mean? He’s the hero who pacified chaotic times, a true knight who craves honor and chivalry over some empty throne.”
“…”
“No matter that you’re from Kailer Kingdom, you’re walking Brantia’s soil now! Denying Duke Bartla’s shining honor—what good is that?”
As the servant-disguised prince ranted with sparkling eyes, Eugene was at a loss for words.
Forget their mismatched timing and awful acting—the fact that an imperial prince of the empire idolized him like this was baffling.
‘This feels bad.’
Just as Eugene thought that, the fake prince poked the real one in the side. The real prince shot Eugene a startled glance.
“…Y-Yes! My young master has said as much many times. Isn’t that right, young master?”
“Huh? Oh! Right. Haha! I feel the same, and even my servant is in awe of Duke Bartla’s exploits. Ahaha, hahaha.”
“Hahaha…”
Eugene barely suppressed a sigh at the prince and servant’s painfully awkward laughter.
“Ahem! Anyway, sir. As a knight from Kailer Kingdom, you must know Duke Bartla well. After all, he came from Kailer, one of the Night Clan. Oh, you’re not rejecting him just because he’s Night Clan, are you? Do you follow the Central Church there, by any chance?”
As the fake prince’s expression grew cautious, Eugene quickly gauged the real prince and knights’ reactions.
Even as they pretended otherwise, they were all stealing glances, clearly invested in his answer.
“Not at all. Not every knight from Kailer follows the Central Church.”
“Oh! That’s good to hear.”
As expected, the Roman Empire despised Kailer Kingdom’s Central Church.
Eugene felt a twinge of gratitude toward Delmong, who wasn’t here. All his knowledge of the empire came from the former imperial official.
“Anyway, enough of that. If you’ve got no more questions, let’s pick up the pace. Your young master would probably prefer an inn over camping…”
“No. It’s fine.”
‘If you’re gonna act, do it right, for god’s sake!’
The fake prince stayed silent, but the real prince had blurted it out again. He startled and quickly added,
“My young master enjoys hunting and the romance of the wilds, so that’s no issue. Right, young master?”
“Ah! Y-Yes. Haha.”
“Ahahaha.”
At their goosebump-inducing acting, Eugene was convinced.
These guys must have been found out multiple times on the way to Brantia.
“Anyway, about that. Is Duke Bartla really that strong a knight? I heard…”
Eugene answered the endless questions with growing annoyance but surprising diligence.
Of course, he dressed up facts that any of his knights or mercenaries would know.
Then, the Desire Spirit wriggling in the gold pouch poked its head out, gazing up at Eugene with greed-smeared eyes as it chattered.
“Master, master. Just spill a few top-tier secrets and ask for more gold! They’ve got tons, so something like how you and I met by fateful destiny…”
Eugene swiftly clamped the pouch shut with an unseen hand.
Then, as if the roles had reversed, he listened to the chatty fellow prattle on about his own exploits(?) and nodded along appropriately.
“And so! When Duke Bartla slew the wicked wyvern of Kalsbaegin, that gleaming holy sword…”
“Is that so? Impressive.”
“This one’s unconfirmed, but in the Roderic Archipelago, he faced a massive sea dragon and with towering courage bellowed like thunder…”
“Uh, that’s a bit…”
“Ten sword masters of Elrand challenged the duke…”
“…”
Where the hell did the prince hear these tales?
No, before that—
Did monsters in the empire really retreat from a shout, and were sword masters that common?
‘Damn it.’
For the first time, Eugene regretted taking the gold.
* * *
“Then, we’ll part ways here.”
“Thank you, sir. Planning to enter the royal castle, by any chance? If so…”
“No, I’ll handle my business and leave. Farewell.”
“See you next time! My young master says thanks… Haha…”
Without looking back at the prince still playing servant, Eugene melted into the crowd.
“Master, master. Won’t we run into them again? What if they recognize you at the castle?”
Mirian peeked out and chattered.
The prince’s awful acting had even kept the normally nosy spirit—who rivaled anyone in gossip—stuffed in the leather pouch all day.
“I barely took off my helmet and didn’t shave, so they won’t recognize me. Besides, the council ends soon, and I’ve got to deal with those orcs anyway.”
According to intel from the Tollo family, the Baiman tribe warriors’ ships would arrive soon.
To head south without crossing the north-south dividing snow mountains of Brantia, they had no choice but ships, and landing spots were limited.
If he led troops there immediately, he could avoid running into that prince at the castle.
“But can Squire No. 2 handle it? The prince wouldn’t shut up. What if No. 2 snaps and decks him?”
“No way he’d punch a prince unless he lost his mind…”
Eugene paused.
The prince’s group was posing as Roman Empire nobles. With the young master as servant and servant as prince.
If a non-knight servant was the chattiest and most meddlesome?
‘Commoners might ignore it, but knights and nobles would take offense.’
Knights and nobles lived by their pride.
Brighton was packed with nobles right after the coronation.
If the prince’s group acted toward others as they had with him—or even half as bad—trouble was inevitable.
‘Should I warn Luke and the others?’
Eugene shook his head.
Lanslo might be different, but Luke was hopeless at deception or acting. He’d screw up nine times out of ten.
“They’ll manage.”
Hiding one’s identity meant accepting the risks.
Plus, they’d made it here from the distant empire surprisingly intact(?), so they must know how to handle it.
Eugene decided not to worry.
“I got some empire intel, and those gold coins were worth listening to that motormouth.”
“Exactly!”
Even the gold-obsessed spirit agreed. The empire info was useful, but the prince was so talkative even Mirian missed Sir Madrica from Maren.
“Just in case, let’s prepare.”
Eugene urged Sillione toward the Brighton city hall, now the royal castle.
“Where do you hail from, sir? This is Brantia’s highest seat, watched over by the great spirits…”
“It’s me.”
“Who are you… Hup!”
“Shh. No fuss. Act normal.”
The guards in ornate breastplates emblazoned with the royal crest were mostly mercenaries Eugene had thrashed before.
Fresh from long secret missions, they froze at the gaze of their vampire duke.
“Y-Your orders, sir.”
“Soon—or maybe today—a foreign noble party might visit the castle. They’ll claim to be from the Roman Empire. If they ask about me, absolutely don’t say I’m back.”
“U-Understood.”
The guard nodded vigorously at the royal guardian’s command.
“Good. Keep up the good work. No need for salutes.”
“Yes, sir!”
Eugene patted the shoulder of the guard reflexing to snap his spear upright and passed by.
The guard, rigid as a statue, waited until Eugene vanished before exhaling deeply.
“Whew! He’s like a ghost. When did he get back? Oh, right…”
Remembering something, the guard whipped his head toward Eugene’s direction. But he was gone.
“Masters Prabow and Sir Lanslo asked me to pass on a message… Tch! He’ll find out as soon as he enters the castle anyway.”
This wasn’t some village lord’s keep—the converted city hall was huge. What were the odds of bumping into ‘that person’ right away?
So the guard thought, returning to duty.
Neither he, Eugene, nor ‘that person’—one of Elrand Elf King’s daughters, the ‘Princess Knight’ with her unique history—could have foreseen it happening.
(To be continued)