Chapter 22
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: The Pilgrimage Begins
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The Crown Prince's pilgrimage wasn't a lavish affair.
But it was an event as crucial as the Emperor's coronation.
Unreasonable and grueling.
I understood it as an Ion Imperial Family tradition, but it still made me tilt my head in confusion.
'That doesn't mean there's no way to make use of it.'
For an Ion royal to undergo their coming-of-age rite meant embarking on the pilgrimage.
This presented an opportunity for those looking to curry favor.
It was also a chance for those who bore grudges against the imperial family to find leverage.
The nobles knew this well, so they sprang into action.
They passed word discreetly and made full use of long-distance communication methods.
Messenger birds, guilds, privately hired couriers.
They spared no expense in power or coin to deploy every means at their disposal.
Their reasons varied, but their goal was singular.
The Crown Prince alone.
A distinguished guest might visit our region.
Prepare for it.
That level of warning was something anyone could issue, and it was only natural.
The Emperor knew of this but limited it to informing him personally.
Navigating temptations and threats wisely was part of the pilgrimage, after all.
Until now, excessive maternal love had kept her from resolving to do so...
But once she'd steeled herself, she grew bolder than before.
Even so, she couldn't shake her worries for her son.
She merely suppressed them for the time being.
"...Hoo."
The Emperor sighed and picked up her pen.
Thus began the pilgrimage, with the Ion Emperor, nobles, and various factions watching, wooing, and fidgeting anxiously.
Leaving the imperial palace behind and exiting the capital set my heart racing.
It felt just like the thrill and tension of my first trip, reborn in full.
'This is the real start.'
For twenty years, "going out" had meant nothing more than stepping beyond the palace walls.
Sudden as it was, I'd finally ventured into the wider world.
My age was advanced, but my worldly experience was scant—less even than a local kid's.
Magic was the only tool I had for travel, which made me tense, but not afraid.
Overwhelming force made things comfortable.
With former boss Antiope alone, dangers seemed nonexistent.
And with Ekyon there too, now at Antiope and Vivi's level, I could relax completely.
"Master. It might be best to stay overnight in that castle today."
Ekyon, riding ahead, pointed to distant walls.
At this pace, we'd arrive in about thirty minutes.
Instead of uniforms, they wore pants and shirts, but nothing ordinary about them.
Their voluptuous figures made them too damn enticing.
And that violent honorific, "Master"—pure perfection.
I'd changed it because "Your Highness" felt off in public, and it was a stroke of genius.
"What's that territory? Anyone know?"
"I've never seen it myself, so no idea. But considering the geography... maybe Viscount Degol's lands?"
Degol? Degol... like that French guy?
The naming conventions here were a total mishmash—absurd.
"Oh, yeah? Sounds fine."
I knew little of geography, but I'd been schooled on nobles.
So I had some knowledge of Degol.
Viscount Degol's territory was average, and thus unremarkable.
Politically, it aligned with the pro-emperor faction.
The viscount and his family were typical nobles—lacking excessive mercy, but not cruel.
His governance was said to be competent enough.
In short, aside from potential annoyances, it was a safe spot to rest.
"Halt. State your business in the viscountcy..."
We waited in the inspection line briefly.
When our turn came, the gate guard started speaking, then froze.
He'd spotted Ekyon and Antiope, clearly stunned.
'Can't blame him.'
Body, face, firmness—outer qualities plus aura.
Even top-tier city beauties from old memes couldn't compete.
"My apologies. Please state your business and present identification."
He quickly regained composure and kept discipline.
Well-trained; must've been in service for years.
"Business travel."
Antiope, handling the reins, pulled a hexagonal wooden plaque from her bosom.
A fake ID to avoid uproar from the imperial one.
Commoners: black wood.
Wealthy merchants: iron.
Nobles: gems by rank. Materials varied by status.
The guard pulled a small ledger from his chest and flipped through it.
A registry guide for verified IDs.
"Verified. You may enter."
"Thanks."
Antiope pocketed the ID and urged the carriage on.
Behind us, the guard called for the next.
"Let's grab a cheap inn first, freshen up. Bath if possible, then rest."
"Yes, Master."
Self-laundry, uncomfortable beds.
Meals incomparable to palace fare.
Anyone raised pampered would struggle, but Antiope and I adapted fast.
We weren't born noble.
Surprisingly, highborn Ekyon adapted too.
Her frank nature showed no forced endurance.
Thus, I strolled the streets carefree, peering into shops like our first inn night.
We agreed on two rooms: men and women separate.
Sharing cramped quarters would've been awkward.
"Handle personal grooming first, then come when ready. Rest if tired."
"Yes, Master."
I issued orders and started my routine.
First, a quick wash at the rear well, rinsing dirty clothes lightly.
Like most, no soap—just water.
Changed outfits, lay on the bed for a break.
Hard compared to palace beds, but decent enough.
"Nngh..."
Stretching fully on the bed, I grimaced.
Too much time in the luggage compartment; muscles screamed.
'Not bad. Good pick.'
Small but clean and cozy.
Perfect vibe for easy sleep.
"May I enter?"
As I closed my eyes, Antiope knocked.
Avoiding "Your Highness" due to eavesdroppers.
"Yeah, come in."
I sat up; both Antiope and Ekyon entered together.
Their curves filled the room instantly.
"What's up?"
"Came to ask about dinner. Inn offers meals; wanted your preference."
Ekyon closed the door, lowering her voice.
Mealtime already?
"Time flew, huh?"
"Yes. Your call? Menu's standard."
"Standard works. Flavor's a gamble, but shouldn't be awful."
"Reputation's decent, so probably fine."
True enough.
Bad food or hygiene spreads rumors fast.
"Dinner here, then. Tomorrow, scout the area. Check demonkin situation, local vibe."
Demonkin emancipation edict: one year on.
Imperial demonkin were now commoners, but enforcement varied.
Some regions complied willingly.
Others resisted.
Ruled by diverse lords, situations differed; intel was key.
Besides, it was my policy.
I bore responsibility to verify.
"Yes, Master."
"Good. No more? Rest easy—you drove all day."
Granting freedom, their eyes sparkled.
They wanted something.
"You look expectant. Spill it."
"Really?"
"Not just saying that?"
Bait dropped; they closed in eagerly.
Lustful gazes fixed on my crotch.
'Got it.'
What these needy bitches craved.
How a master should respond.
I rose slowly, hand on my waistband.
As expected, their eyes gleamed fiercer.
"Pardon the intrusion. Are you in?"
Just as I slid down pants and underwear, a knock—and a strange man's voice.
"How dare you...!"
Ekyon flashed fury, grinding teeth.
Antiope half-mad with rage.
Starved wolves interrupted mid-feast might tear the intruder apart.
"Easy, girls. I'll stuff you full tonight. Just hold on, okay?"
I petted their heads, pulling pants back up.
Comforted, their sharp glares softened.
"Who is it?"
If my identity leaked, it'd be curt—but now, just a traveler.
Polite for common folk.
I wouldn't act incognito if flaunting authority.
"I have business. Could you spare a moment?"
Voice grave, respectful tone.
Suspicious, but courteous—worth seeing his face.
"Come in."
Permission given, the stranger entered.
Sturdy build matching his voice; unknown face, as expected.
"Pardon the intrusion. Greetings, Your Highness."
He shut the door, bowing deeply.
His words confirmed he knew exactly who I was.
'Chilling.'
I'd heard this happens often, but so soon?
This fast meant round-the-clock surveillance.
"You know who I am, then."
He knew me; I dropped formality.
Addressing him as Crown Prince, not wanderer.
"Yes. Ideally, the viscount would greet you himself, but that might disrupt your pilgrimage. He chose patience. Forgive our rudeness."
He bowed again, politely.
Come without etiquette?
Or adhere but sabotage the discreet pilgrimage?
Viscount picked the former—smart.
Flaunting protocol would've irked more.
"Forgiven. Chin up. Viscount judged well."
"Thank you."
I bade him rise, meeting his gaze squarely.
Steadfast was good, but his intense stare unnerved.
"So, sent by the viscount just to see my face?"
"Yes. Knowing your long, arduous journey, he invites you for some comfort."
"Invitation—openly?"
"No. Unbefitting your station, but he deemed discretion best. Feel free to decline."
He swallowed dryly.
Rude by some standards, but polite enough by mine.
Plus, pro-emperor viscount—even lowly, worth respect.
Especially lower rank; rewarding loyalty strengthens the whole.
"Fine. Accepted. But not tonight—tomorrow. Too tired now."
"Ah...! Thank you."
His eyes lit; he'd gotten his master's wish.
"Then, tomorrow night, when eyes are fewer."
"Night? Reason?"
"Yes. Begging pardon, but a suitable venue for Your Highness opens at night..."
Nighttime, inviting me.
I could guess.
'Gotta go, hassle or not.'
Direct home invite was fine, but not his style.
Cautious, anxious.
"Got it. Quietly—no fanfare. Understand?"
"Yes. I'll relay. Anything else...?"
"No. Out."
"Understood. See you then."
He bowed elegantly and left.
Might as well squeeze some meal money outta him while meeting.