The Crazy Prince's First Modern Ways
The training ground for the Imperial Guard Knights was noisy as ever today.
The clash of steel.
The battle cries of the knights.
The thud of boots on the dirt floor.
Straight into the center of it all stepped Ruang Caesar, his face utterly ordinary.
Someone nearly sprinted over and dropped into a deep bow.
“Your Highness, forgive this rudeness!”
Ruang blinked once, surprised.
Such apologies were rare among nobles.
Ordinary nobles guarded their pride far more than they apologized.
Yet an Imperial Guard Knight bowed so low?
It was amusing.
Ruang curled the corner of his mouth and asked, “What sort of rudeness is this all of a sudden? Did you perhaps insult me behind my back?”
“That… I have a close friend named Patrick Griffin.”
“Patrick… ah.”
Ruang tapped his chin lightly.
“The one who challenged me? You’re here to watch the duel tonight?”
“I came to speak of the duel, Your Highness.”
“Is there some problem with the duel?”
Ruang gave a thin smile. “Two men fighting over one woman. Simple, fierce, and hot. Isn’t that the perfect duel?”
Gaien Aldore’s face hardened further. “But that friend has not yet mastered proper swordsmanship.”
“Mm.”
“If Your Highness were to join in yourself… to be honest, it would probably end as light entertainment.”
Ruang looked at Gaien quietly.
Gaien Aldore.
An Imperial Guard Knight with four years’ experience.
A man Ruang had crossed blades with several times.
His skill was solid.
His foundation was strong, his strength impressive, and most importantly, he never treated the sword gently.
His instincts for surviving in real combat were perfectly honed.
From Ruang’s perspective, he was quite a good opponent.
Sparring partners like him were rare these days while he was honing his own sword skills.
“So.”
Ruang asked, “What are you asking of me? You want me to declare that I won, even though the opponent has yet to admit defeat?”
“No.”
Gaien took a breath. “If it pleases Your Highness… I wish to step forward as his champion.”
“As his champion.”
Ruang echoed the words softly.
In noble society it was not strange at all.
When you yourself could not wield a sword, you sent another in your place.
The issue here was the timing.
Patrick had only learned a little swordsmanship in etiquette class.
He could barely defend his own body.
While Gaien was an Imperial Guard Knight.
The comparison was absurd.
“Are you close enough with Patrick to act as his champion?”
“Since we were children we have been inseparable.”
Gaien answered without hesitation.
“That is why I know him better. He would never do something as reckless as this. He… must have been swept away by his blood.”
Ruang chuckled. “That doesn’t sound right.”
“…”
“No matter how long we’ve known each other, there is little reason to involve yourself in this duel.”
Gaien bit his lip for a moment, clearly torn.
Eventually he bowed his head and said, “I… I told him what you said.”
“What I said?”
“Yes. About love. To keep moving if you can, and never hide your feelings.”
Ruang’s eyes narrowed.
Gaien continued with a resigned look. “He said he would try it himself. I caught him, so I feel responsible.”
Ruang held back a laugh.
He had shouted that love should never be hidden and one should act when the moment came.
And now the fool had actually followed it.
The fool who had caught him had become even more foolish and stood right before him.
“What did Patrick say?”
Gaien’s expression wavered slightly.
The night’s conversation still echoed in his mind.
*****
“What were you thinking, saying something like that!”
When Gaien found Patrick late at night, the first thing he said was an accusation.
Patrick’s face was pale.
The courage he had shown in the banquet hall had already faded.
Yet his eyes still burned strangely.
“…Hehe.”
“Why are you laughing, you crazy fool.”
“I couldn’t hide it.”
Patrick answered in a trembling voice.
“My heart… was like a spark I couldn’t hide. Yes. That’s all.”
“The duel? Do you really have the resolve to fight?”
Gaien grew angry. “Your honor alone might not be enough!”
Patrick’s legs were clearly shaking.
He looked about to collapse at any moment.
Yet he refused to back down.
“Even so…”
“…”
“This is my first choice.”
Patrick gritted his teeth. “If I lose this, I will live as a coward my whole life.”
The moment Gaien heard those words, he felt something strange.
A coward. A madman. And the wrong opponent.
The one who had fallen for the mad prince’s beloved.
The one who had shouted his feelings right in front of the mad prince.
Yet.
That was courage.
It was courage that had exploded in the most foolish direction, but it was impossible to deny that it was courage.
Gaien let out a long sigh.
“…All right.”
Patrick looked up.
“I will help you.”
“What? But…!”
“You mad fool.”
Gaien roughly shook Patrick’s shoulder.
“Where else would you find a friend willing to jump into a burning pit?”
The two foolish friends made their alliance.
*****
Ruang listened and gave a small laugh.
It was nothing strange.
Young men were like that.
Even in modern times, high-school friends did all sorts of crazy things.
They climbed mountains claiming they would find a wild boar, then fled screaming from a deer.
They challenged each other to jump from high places, only to break their legs together.
These two were no different.
Their direction was merely dressed up in noble elegance; the behavior was exactly the same.
“So that happened, huh?”
Ruang said with amusement.
Gaien bowed again. “Yes, Your Highness. So I humbly request your permission to step forward as the champion.”
A brief silence fell.
Then Ruang’s lips stretched long.
“…Hmm. This should be interesting?”
“Your Highness?”
A chill ran down Gaien’s spine.
Anyone who had clashed with Ruang before knew that smile.
It was not the smile that came after a normal conclusion.
It was the face of someone who had just thought up something even crazier.
“Fine. We’ll practice a few moves.”
“Your Highness, practice?”
Gaien asked carefully.
Ruang answered lazily. “Even if you step forward as champion, everyone will expect the same outcome.”
“…Yes.”
“And I have a theory.”
Ruang raised a finger. “A man’s confession is precious. But a woman’s confession is precious too. So while we respect Patrick’s heart, we must also respect Angela’s heart.”
Gaien’s expression hardened.
The logic was correct.
Too correct, in fact.
Following it meant Patrick was at a disadvantage from the start.
Even if Gaien fought for his friend, he could not really win, and pretending to lose would damage honor.
Both Patrick and Gaien would suffer reputational harm.
Moreover, the nobles watching always wanted the same thing.
A magnificent, hot, blood-boiling battle.
But once the lid was lifted…
If it turned out as expected and the fight was sloppy?
They would be disappointed.
Noble disappointment lasted a long time.
Ruang looked at Gaien and spoke kindly. “So we’ll just practice a little.”
“…Yes?”
“Since you already know swordsmanship, you only need to learn a few things I tell you to do.”
Gaien suddenly felt uneasy. “What exactly do you mean?”
Ruang walked forward slowly.
His sword was still sheathed.
So Gaien tensed reflexively but did not yet assume a proper stance.
That was his mistake.
“Uchaa.”
“Eh?!”
Ruang’s arm suddenly wrapped around Gaien’s neck and slammed down.
At the same time his leg struck the back of his knee.
Balance vanished in an instant.
Thud.
Gaien’s back hit the floor.
Too fast for him to understand one beat later.
Ruang looked down and said, “This is bare-handed combat.”
“Bar… bare-handed?”
“Yes. This will look fiercer and more spectacular. And most importantly…”
Ruang laughed. “Won’t it be more fun?”
Gaien lay on the floor for a moment, thinking.
The words were not wrong.
If struck by a sword, death was always possible.
Bare-handed fighting could bruise or dislocate joints, but with proper control it was far safer.
The problem was…
“Your Highness… that was more of a knightly suppression technique…”
“Hm?”
“It’s… a little…”
Gaien chose his words, then gave up.
“It went down a little too perfectly.”
Ruang smiled with satisfaction.
Exactly right.
This was not real martial arts.
It was not a technique meant to kill people.
It was a performance meant for others to watch and applaud.
Grab. Throw. Twist. Flip. Stand up.
The onlookers would hold their breath.
The person falling would suffer no real injury.
In Ruang’s world this was given a special name.
WWE.
Wrestling.
Of course Gaien had no idea what that word meant.
He only knew he had fallen again.
His arm had been twisted again.
He had rolled on the floor again.
And he was beginning to understand.
‘Ah. This man keeps thinking up even stranger things.’
“Good. Again.”
“Yes?”
“You’re going into the burning pit for your friend. You need to last a little longer.”
Ruang extended his hand.
Gaien looked at it for a moment, then grabbed it and rose.
And the next morning.
On one side of the Imperial Guard Knights’ training ground
Instead of the mad prince wielding twin swords,
A more mad prince who threw people with flair was born.
*****
[Discussion is underway between His Highness Ruang and His Highness Manuel regarding the northeast region. Rosefield family members have expressed interest in speaking with them.]
Rachel was reading the letter when she paused.
Rosefield had little it could not accomplish in the northeast.
The most powerful family, with countless ties to surrounding territories.
If they wished, they could seize a pretext, punish a lord, and steal his land.
Yet even Rosefield had one place they could not easily touch.
The imperial direct territory.
To stir it was to fight the empire itself, and the empire was cold-blooded.
Other regional lords would gladly side with the empire.
Because they resented it.
Long ago, Rosefield had once grabbed the emperor’s hand and punished other territories.
That memory had never faded with time.
Yet.
This time Ruang had moved personally.
He was interfering in the northeast region and had said something about speaking with Rosefield.
Rachel looked at the letter quietly.
‘What does he want? To take the emperor’s direct territory while marrying into the Rosefield family?’
With the information she had, this was as far as it went.
Speculation was possible, but certainty was not.
Yet the reason she felt an odd emotion was different.
In the northeast, Rosefield’s hand had always been on top.
Everyone had looked up to Rosefield and lived by accepting what he gave.
So Rachel was used to it.
People bowing their heads.
People relying on her.
People seeking her help.
But now it was the opposite.
Someone was about to give her something.
And that someone was the mad prince whose noble base had fallen apart.
A man she had never faced directly.
Rachel felt one side of her chest strangely warm.
‘This time… it’s warm.’
It was not burning jealousy or sticky disgust.
It was not the fire that scorched flesh.
It was the warmth of a stove reaching cold fingertips.
Rachel Rosefield had learned yet another new feeling.
Her father expected things of her.
Her family, the nobles of the northeast, supported her.
But all of it was the kind of look that placed her on a pedestal.
This one was different.
It felt like support from beside her.
A kind of support she had never seen before.
Rachel placed the letter on her chest and slowly closed her eyes.
She did not yet know what to call this feeling.
Gratitude? Expectation? Or something more complicated?
But one thing was certain.
If she ever truly met him again,
she wanted to tell him about this feeling.
Because he had unknowingly created something precious inside her.
Rachel whispered softly.
“Prince Ruang…”
The name slipped carefully from her lips.
“Not Ruang… just Ruang.”
Not prince, but a single person’s name.
And simply calling that name made her chest feel a little warmer.