Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: No Distinction of Gender in Scoundrelry (1)
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Rumors quietly spread that the rascal First Prince had summoned Single Chain knights to the royal palace. It also became known that those he called in were none other than retainers from families harboring grudges against the First Prince.
"He's digging his own grave," people whispered. "He's handed those sharpening their blades for revenge the perfect excuse."
Everyone assumed the prince would pay the price for his past misdeeds. Of course, given his status, his life wouldn't be in danger, but they figured utter humiliation was inevitable.
People eagerly awaited it. They watched with bated breath, wondering when and how the First Prince would face his disgrace.
But no matter how long they waited, the anticipated news never came.
The only rumors were about the second son of the Taylheim barony, the first sparring opponent selected, arriving at the palace. Nothing about the outcome could be heard anywhere.
"I'll definitely avenge my family's grudge."
Even when the eldest son of some rural viscountcy—who'd boasted of thoroughly repaying the humiliation inflicted by the First Prince—returned from the palace,
"As a representative of the kingdom's nobility, I'll offer my life without hesitation."
Even after the apprentice knight burning with a sense of duty came back from the palace, it was the same.
The fourth, fifth, seventh. Rumors swirled of their visits to the palace, but nothing followed about what happened next.
"Maybe they've been silenced."
People thought the prince had pulled some scheme to save face. An impatient soul even claimed those who visited the palace were being detained there.
None of it was true.
"There must've been some misunderstanding. His Highness the First Prince isn't the villain the rumors make him out to be."
When someone, unable to contain their curiosity, sought out the second son of the Taylheim barony—the very first to visit the palace—and asked about the sparring results, they heard an utterly unexpected response, nothing like what anyone anticipated.
"His Highness explained the past incident stemming from that misunderstanding, and my father has already accepted it."
Even when they brought up the Taylheim family's dark secret from the past, he maintained his favorable attitude toward the First Prince.
"So what was the sparring outcome?"
"We both gave it our all. That's it."
People buzzed endlessly about what the Taylheim second son had said.
He'd been threatened into silence. Or bribed with money and goods to keep quiet. Debates raged over the methods, but everyone agreed the First Prince was behind the gag order.
Some idle busybody tracked down other sparring opponents who'd visited the palace and asked them about it.
"Threats? Don't talk nonsense. I simply came to understand His Highness's true intentions."
"His Highness didn't force us into anything."
Their responses were much the same as the Taylheim second son's—confirming little else.
But no one took their words at face value.
Sealing the lips of nobodies from rural minor noble houses wasn't hard. The only baffling part was that the First Prince they knew wasn't cunning enough to resort to such tactics.
"The royals must have stepped in."
So people concluded that the royal family, unwilling to let their honor sink further, had intervened.
And the subject of those rumors was utterly baffled.
**
"Silenced? What silencing?"
It was absurd—they were dragging innocent me into it because the opponents were too embarrassed to talk about the sparring results. The conspiracy theory about the royal family stepping in to quash rumors was almost refreshingly novel.
"Don't nobles have anything better to do?"
"Nobles are always overly interested in others' affairs. Even without that, this kingdom is overflowing with people curious about your every move."
My uncle replied as if it were the most natural thing.
"Seriously, they should spend that time on something productive."
"That's rich coming from you."
My uncle gave me a look of disbelief.
Only then did I remember whose body I inhabited, and I shut my mouth in embarrassment. To outsiders, no one had lived less productively than I had.
"When you leave, tell them everything."
In my mortification, I barked at the eleventh sparring opponent, who was resting before me.
"About me, and the sparring results. Everything."
"Y-Yes, I will."
Only after hearing that did I release the opponent, as always, with a small gift and a letter prepared by the maids.
I expected his words to clear up the misunderstandings.
But I'd apparently underestimated the rascal's notoriety.
"Well... there are rumors that Your Highness intimidated him into fabricating the sparring results..."
The outside world's gossip, relayed hesitantly by the maid, hadn't improved at all. If anything, it added the misconception that I couldn't accept the results and had pettily faked the victory.
"Ha. Unreal."
At that point, I decided to cut off interest in the outside world. No matter what I did, to them, I was just the rascal prince.
"Time for training. Just training."
It had been a month and a week since the sparring began. Twelve opponents had come to me in that time.
While facing them, I'd focused entirely on bringing the Dragon Slayer Sword under my control.
The result? I wasn't perfect, but I could wield the sword to a certain degree. As a bonus, I learned the synergy between mana rings and the mana heart wasn't absolute.
"The ring's vibrations that destroy the heart's mana grow stronger when there are multiple, not just one. Everyone you've faced so far hasn't reached the resonance stage."
Of course, my uncle scolded me, calling it a hasty judgment.
But even he, rebuking me, seemed impressed by my growth in such a short time—though he didn't show it. That's just how my uncle was.
Or so I guessed.
"How many opponents are left to arrive?"
At my question, a maid approached and reported the number remaining.
"Nine remain."
"That's a lot."
It's human nature for your mood to sour on the way to the bathroom compared to the way back.
It felt like just yesterday I was thrilled with my pure, honest victories—not reliant on others—but now I no longer cared about winning or losing.
To be precise, I was indifferent.
"Apprentice knights just don't satisfy anymore."
As I chuckled smugly, Court Knight Kals Yulihi advised me not to let my guard down.
"The last one is different from all who've come before. She's genuinely skilled."
He explained that while the previous visitors were below average in swordsmanship even excluding mana rings, the final one was properly trained.
"Properly trained?"
"Not content with just honing her family's sword style—she trained properly in a knight order."
Kals pulled out a list of opponents from who-knows-where and showed it.
「Arwen Kirguyen, Probationary Knight of the Iron Lion Knight Order」
His finger pointed to the very end of the list.
"Iron Lion Knight Order?"
"One of the kingdom's top knight orders in fame and skill."
An elite order of sword prodigies where, out of ten who join as probationaries, maybe one sheds that label.
"Arwen Kirguyen is one of those elite prodigies, a rising star almost guaranteed formal membership. Rumor has it that in pure swordsmanship spars without mana, even full knights struggle against her."
"Why would someone like that come to spar with me?"
This time, it was the maid who answered.
"Your Highness may not remember, but there was a minor misunderstanding between you and Lady Arwen in the past."
"Misunderstanding? Probably me picking a one-sided fight, right?"
I felt a reluctant awe at the rascal's endless history of misdeeds. To rack up grudges with so many people— it was a talent, in a way.
Of course, that talent was utterly useless to me now.
"No need to sugarcoat it. Tell me. What did I do?"
"Well..."
The maid hesitated before answering.
"Your Highness toyed with Lady Arwen."
"Toyed? Not just insulted her?"
Bewildered, I got clarification from Kals instead of the maid.
"Your Highness. Arwen Kirguyen is not a man—she's a woman."
Hearing that snapped the situation into focus, and I scowled.
"Your Highness groped her body."
"What the hell! That's insane!"
A curse slipped out reflexively.
I'd resolved to bear the rascal's countless karmic debts, but this crossed the line.
Groping a woman.
It felt like filth had been dumped on me.
"You mad bastard! All that pig does is lust after women!"
Unable to hold back my rage, I shouted. Kals and the maid tried to calm me.
"Please compose yourself."
"Your Highness was young at the time..."
"Young? How old was I?"
"Fifteen at the time..."
"That's not young!"
I'd foolishly hoped otherwise. Fifteen was old enough to know better. And if it was at fifteen, it wasn't even that long ago.
"And..."
"What? There's more?"
The maid hesitated long before speaking.
"Your Highness told her, 'You're so ugly and ill-tempered, you'll never get married your whole life.'"
"Ha. Hopeless. Utterly hopeless."
I'd known the rascal was a lost cause, but he wasn't just any rascal—he was one who preyed on men and women alike.
**
"Then I eagerly await our next meeting."
"Don't—just spread the word about me on your way out."
After sending off the twentieth sparring opponent, I took time to review my gains.
The mana heart had grown considerably. Sure, it was still only fitting for a lowly Sword Learner, but for a few months' work, it was satisfying.
I could now handle the Dragon Slayer Sword without my uncle's help. In fact, the last time he intervened was around the thirteenth opponent.
I'd lost a lot of weight too.
My body was still plump, more like a wealthy merchant's heir than a knight's, but compared to when I first awoke, it was a huge improvement.
At least now I looked human.
"Once you trim that side fat too."
My stingy uncle refused to acknowledge it, of course.
Dawn broke.
Today was the day to meet the victim—no, the final sparring opponent.
I headed to the training grounds with the heart of livestock led to the slaughterhouse.
"Please don't let your guard down."
Already uneasy, Kals nagging me beside me only made it worse.
"To end on a high note, Your Highness's noble body must remain unscathed..."
"Argh, enough! My ears are callused!"
"I only mean you must be cautious."
"I got it! I got it!"
"Ahem..."
While suffering Kals's lectures, time slipped by as always, and the appointed hour arrived.
And Arwen Kirguyen appeared.
Thud. Thud.
Without a hint of intimidation, she strode right up to me and gave a curt bow.
That was the greeting.
Afterward, she glared at me with sharp eyes the whole time. Unlike the others, she didn't bother hiding her ill feelings.
Looking at her, I thought:
The rascal had committed a grave sin.
[You're so ugly and ill-tempered, you'll never get married your whole life.]
What the rascal said back then was utterly wrong.
Because Arwen Kirguyen was no hag, nor someone whose marriage prospects anyone needed to worry about.
Arwen Kirguyen was a stunning beauty who took your breath away.