The Hidden Fourth Prince
I didn't miss the brief flicker in the emperor's eyes.
"He's around, isn't he?"
It was something he'd hidden so tightly even I hadn't known, but it would be strange if a man of the emperor's stature had never caused a single scandal. The emperor neither confirmed nor denied it.
I explained how the princes I'd met as the Guardian Spirit had reacted to him. A long sigh escaped the emperor.
"Are you saying none of my grandsons are up to the task?"
I'd looked into that too. The results weren't promising. There were a few decent ones, but even if he handed them the throne, it was doubtful they'd handle things properly.
"If you intend to pass the throne to the crown grandson, will you eliminate all the princes?"
It sounded borderline treasonous, but I had no qualms. It wasn't my words—the Guardian Spirit had said it. If the crown grandson were to inherit, would the current princes just sit idly by? Without removal or something similar, they'd surely scheme to act as regents.
The emperor shook his head. He didn't want to kill his own children. Loving one's offspring was fine, but for an emperor, it was excessive. And that was the result now.
"So where is this hidden prince of yours?"
"I don't know."
"Only I know, then. The Guardian Spirit will report back, so I won't need to track him down myself."
"No, I really don't know. To protect that child and his mother, I never received any reports. The best way to keep a secret is for even me not to know it."
It made sense. He was that thorough. It was neglect in a way, but thanks to it, the next emperor's candidate was still alive.
"Who should I ask, then?"
The emperor wrote it on paper and handed it to me without speaking. I read it and burned it right in front of him.
Whether bastards had royal blood or not didn't matter much anymore. They might even do better than the princes by dragging in some serf farming outside.
I immediately sent an avatar to find the person who knew the bastard's whereabouts. He was one of the servants who'd worked in the imperial palace long ago. I remembered his face. It was back when Ether was alive.
He was home alone, and when I suddenly appeared before him, he jumped in fright. But as soon as I spoke, he regained his composure.
"Fourth finger."
It was the code the emperor had written, along with the prince's whereabouts.
"William, 19 years old, Akasha Territory, Sword Mountain mercenary."
The servant gave only the vital information without protest. Talk about the darkest spot being under the lamp—he was living in our territory.
Hearing the name and age jogged my memory. He was a talented recruit I'd requested from Jayke's mercenary band. He hadn't joined Akasha Territory proper, though; he'd stayed on as a mercenary.
I returned to the territory at once and summoned Wider, ordering him to bring William from the mercenary band. No verification needed since I'd scouted him before. The question was whether he himself wanted to become the fourth prince.
"By the way, Wider, how long did the original emperor live?"
"Hmm, about 17 more years from now, I think."
"Who inherited the throne?"
"Not the crown prince—the second prince became emperor."
History had changed, as expected. I'd thought major currents wouldn't shift even if history altered, but the emperor of the continent's strongest empire changing was a major shift.
William, who happened to be in the territory without assignments, came at my summons. Blood couldn't lie—seeing him as the emperor's son, the resemblances were striking.
He was the talent I'd tried to recruit. His potential dwarfed the princes'.
"My lord."
"William, come in."
What to say first? Probably reveal his identity.
"I called you here regarding your birth."
"I know."
"You know who your father is?"
"Yes, my mother told me before she passed."
That explained why the servant only mentioned William—his mother was already dead.
"That makes this quicker. Straight to the point: do you want to become the fourth prince?"
"Is that even possible?"
"It is—I've already received His Majesty's permission."
William fell deep into thought. It wasn't a decision to make lightly; it would shape his entire life.
"And you'll have to contend for the throne."
"That's impossible."
"No, it is—and I'll make it so."
"If you plan to use me as a puppet, forget it."
Instead of words, I used an avatar to move a pen, writing before him:
-I am the Guardian Spirit. I will be with you.
"You know you can communicate with the Guardian Spirit too, right?"
"Even with the Guardian Spirit's help, if I can't act on my own will, I won't do it."
William had backbone. Unlike that guy who'd fled at the sight of moving writing, he stood firm. That made me like him more.
"If you refuse, I won't force you. And I have no intention of making you a puppet. Do you think Ether Emperor His Majesty was the Guardian Spirit's puppet?"
"No. He was a great emperor."
"Exactly. You could be too."
William sank back into thought. But an answer wouldn't come easily.
"Go home and think on it for a few days."
"Understood."
He left with a resolute expression. But if I hadn't misjudged him, he'd accept. And he carried the emperor's blood. Blood never lied.
I began moving my vassals to the capital in earnest and preparing for what came next. Declaring support for William wouldn't tip the scales easily. The nobles might bend somehow, but the emperor's faction—now aligned with the princes—was the real issue.
My capital mansion underwent major renovations. It was too austere for my tastes now. With nobles visiting soon, the current setup posed problems.
I also sent people to contact neutral nobles, demanding they decide: stay neutral or join me.
Many nobles wanted neutrality but lacked the power. As the neutral faction's leader, the Akasha count family held the line, allowing more neutrals than usual. Rally them, and we'd match the emperor's and nobles' factions.
A few days later, as expected, William returned.
"I'll do it."
"Good choice."
"But promise me one thing: never harm the common people."
"That's a given."
With William's agreement, I explained the situation. When I finished, he trembled with rage, fists clenched.
"So that's what my brothers are like."
"Yes. Left alone, the emperor would die, and civil war would erupt."
"Now I understand why you and the Guardian Spirit stepped in."
He was slightly off, but the result was similar, so I let it slide.
William was more upright than expected. Growing up as a commoner gave him deep insight into the people's struggles—a potential strength or weakness on the throne. Empires didn't run on nobles alone, nor commoners.
Before announcing the fourth prince, William needed education. I hired the capital's top experts in every field.
"It'll be tough from here."
"I'm prepared."
Oh, tougher than he thought—his swordsmanship teacher was Howard. He'd volunteered out of boredom since Argin left. Still, the continent's strongest swordsman.
I reported the situation back to the emperor. Hearing his long-uncontacted son had grown splendidly delighted him.
"So, is there a way?"
He meant handing the throne peacefully to the sudden bastard son without killing any children.
"The Guardian Spirit will handle it."
It was a hassle, but I had a plan. If it failed and things went south, force might be needed.
William moved to the capital for training, and my renovated mansion hosted its first banquet. Thinking back, it was my first ever, across past and present lives.
The banquet was a roaring success. Meant for neutrals, it drew nobles from all factions who'd received invites.
The Akasha count family and the saint's fame carried that weight. But the issue? Many brought daughters.
By noble standards, I was past marriageable age. Dozens of noble ladies swarmed me, squealing at every gesture.
I missed chances to meet neutral nobles amid the chaos. Their advances were bold—invitations to slip away, proposals for post-banquet meetings.
I handled it adeptly, drawing on decades watching royals. Anything less would be embarrassing.
Post-banquet, my stock skyrocketed. Ladies gossiped about me in pairs; patriarchs rolled up sleeves to link daughters with me.
It veered from my goal, but invitations poured in, and I secured firm commitments from many nobles.
As the neutral faction cautiously grew, an unexpected guest arrived.
"Welcome, Your Highness."
This prince had come himself. Running the imperial intelligence, he moved fastest on such matters.
"Count Akasha, good to see you. The rumors of your handsomeness are true."
Unlike his terrified flight from the Guardian Spirit's writing, he carried weight now.
"Just an embarrassing flaw."
"Busy making moves lately, I hear?"
This was the man who'd become emperor in Wider's past life. Couldn't dismiss him lightly.
He probed my actions obliquely.
"Just the powerless banding together to survive."
"Haven't they survived fine so far? And who says Akasha lacks power?"
"It's paltry compared to the empire's true might."
We both knew enough. Imperial intel would grasp Akasha's strength well.
"What do you plan to do with that power?"
"As I said, unite to live."
He didn't know about William yet—saw it as me building a faction.
"Why not give that power to me?"
He had intel but no force. Partnering with me was ideal, in theory.
"I've told His Majesty several times: I intend to stay neutral."
His face soured; he glared. I met his eyes impassively. He looked away first.
"I don't want to be your enemy."
"Nor I yours."
"Can you promise that?"
Empty promises were easy, but why waste one on him?
"The world changes—who knows? I can't promise."
"Pity. You're making a big mistake."
"Maybe."
He stood abruptly, face dark, and left.
But rumors spread differently: I'd allied with this prince.
His faction's intel manipulation, no doubt. It made things easier.