Chapter 120
Chapter 120
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 120
Chapter Title: 38. Same Bed, Different Dreams (1)
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Shiorin stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"The delegation from the Leonberger Kingdom greets the Third Prince of Burgundy..."
"Skip the stale formalities."
There was still a long way to go before the full protocol was complete, but the Third Prince cut Shiorin off abruptly.
"More importantly, which one of you is the prince of Leonberger?"
Even as he spoke, the Third Prince's gaze had been fixed on me from the start.
His eyes slithered over me from head to toe, like a snake crawling along.
I didn't avoid his gaze, nor did I feign reverence like the others.
I simply stepped forward silently, declaring myself the prince of the kingdom.
He glared at me with those serpentine eyes, and I met his stare head-on.
He couldn't tear his eyes away any more than I could.
To think such a wretched combination of traits could exist in one person.
Compared to him, even Adelia's flaws seemed endearing.
I checked his traits once more. And once again, I was awestruck.
Was there really anyone else in the world like this monstrosity?
Born a commoner, he would have tormented his family and neighbors.
As a knight, he would have stabbed his lord in the back and become a murderer.
Inheriting noble rank, he would have ruined thousands, even tens of thousands of lives.
Had he become king, he would have burned a millennium dynasty to the ground without leaving a single stone.
A living blight on the world.
And to top it all off, this monstrosity was an imperial prince.
What could be more horrifying?
From the Empire's perspective, of course.
To all who opposed the Empire, the Third Prince before me was a beacon, hope incarnate.
The same went for me and my kingdom.
The Third Prince was like a gift prepared by the world for our kingdom.
I looked at him with boundless goodwill.
Perhaps reading the emotion in my eyes, the Third Prince's irritated expression softened. He seemed to delusionally assume I admired or idolized him.
Whatever. I didn't care what delusions he harbored.
"I've been waiting so eagerly for a day like this."
He smirked at my words, spoken with a bright smile.
Clueless as to why I'd been waiting.
*
I'm no good at dealing with people, that's for sure.
Having spent too many years with the sword, I'm oblivious to others' emotions and clumsy at expressing my own. No one ever called me socially adept, not even as empty flattery.
Fawning insincerely was utterly against my nature.
Yet, strangely, I felt no difficulty in buttering up the Third Prince.
It was all thanks to my reputation.
The rumors painted me as the kingdom's forsaken black sheep, abandoned by my father the king, teetering on the edge of being stripped of my throne by my brother and confined.
My trip to the Empire was said to stem from a total breakdown in relations with the king, effectively exiling me.
The Third Prince projected his own situation onto me.
He delusionally believed his plight—unrecognized by the emperor—mirrored mine.
He treated me with false camaraderie, as if we shared a bond of mutual suffering.
He even offered utterly useless "advice" to encourage me.
"From now on, think of me as your brother."
Before long, he went so far as to declare himself my elder brother figure.
How laughable.
I suppressed my bursting laughter and simply listened to his ramblings.
No need to fawn against my nature or fabricate empathy by spilling my sob story.
Just keeping my mouth shut was enough for the Third Prince to misread my mood, speculate on my circumstances, and dispense advice for my future.
"Trust only this brother of yours. Once I claim the throne, making you king will be child's play."
By the third day after meeting him, he already considered me one of his own.
And on the fifth day, in a subtle tone, he asked me to lend aid in "times of need."
The forces of the kingdom and House Montpellier would be a great help, he said.
I had no idea when this "time of need" would come or what it entailed.
But I could guess it wouldn't be anything legitimate.
Playing dumb, I asked what sort of situation he meant and what he expected of me.
Glancing around, he replied in that sly tone: if the emperor made the wrong choice, he wouldn't hesitate to correct it by any means necessary—and for that, he needed more allies.
Fancy words, but it boiled down to starting a civil war if the emperor passed the throne to another prince.
When that day came, he said, the kingdom and Montpellier must raise arms to support him.
I gladly accepted his proposal.
If it truly came to that, I'd mobilize our maximum forces.
"As expected! I knew you'd understand my intentions!"
The Third Prince beamed with joy, pounding my shoulder enthusiastically.
Utterly oblivious to what I meant by mobilizing forces.
Had he known, he wouldn't have been smiling.
"Still, just to be safe, we should put it in writing."
The Third Prince pulled a parchment from his breast.
"Don't misunderstand. It's not that I don't trust you. This is just a formality. Far in the future, when I become emperor, this document will prove your merit."
Like with the Marquis of Montpellier, he demanded a written pledge from me.
It explicitly stated the commitment to mobilize troops in times of need.
I stamped it without hesitation.
Though the stamp wasn't the royal Leonberger seal, but ink from House Montpellier's seal pressed onto it.
Seeing the Montpellier house seal on the pledge, the Third Prince's grin stretched ear to ear.
He'd spoken of needing the kingdom and the marquisate's support, but naturally, a high noble's signature from his own empire carried far more weight than that of a minor foreign kingdom.
Belatedly coming to his senses, the Third Prince asked why I'd used Montpellier's seal instead.
I replied that it was far more reliable than a promise from a prince who hadn't even secured his throne yet—that I was in the same boat as House Montpellier, two bodies with one heart.
He bought it instantly and was overjoyed.
As thanks, he summoned a mage to tend to the Iron Lions' and others' wounds.
Not that he cared they came from clashing swords with his own knights.
Going further, having heard of my interest in knightly sparring, he provided information on families along our route and their knightly orders.
Handing military intel from his own empire to a foreign prince like me as a "gift"—I wanted to crack open his skull and see what passed for brains inside.
Even more astonishing was that no one around him tried to stop him.
Not even the presumed paladin old knight or the quite advanced-looking mage.
They just watched his antics with dull eyes.
From that, I realized: the Third Prince had no one left to offer wise counsel—just a flock of greedy vultures gathered for scraps.
He stuck by my side for days after.
Had one of his guards not pressed him about prior arrangements with other nobles, he'd have trailed me all the way to the capital.
"Pity we must part here."
He looked genuinely regretful.
"We'll meet again in the capital."
He extended his hand. I took it reluctantly.
Suddenly—
He pulled me into a fierce embrace, unable to contain his "passion."
"In the future, people will record our meeting in history and praise it."
He whispered dramatically before mounting his horse with a flourish.
Seemed he fancied himself in some heroic tale.
Over-the-top tone, theatrical gestures. Clearly conscious of the onlookers.
Absurdly, he seemed to believe today's events would go down in history.
I half-agreed.
Our meeting would indeed be recorded in history.
The only difference was that the history in question would be one of the kingdom's independence and rise.
"Do you feel regretful, Your Highness?"
As I stood there, Ranger Yorden sidled up slyly.
"Hardly."
"I thought you might. Even blood brothers don't click like that."
"You seem bored."
Seeing him mouth off idly, I figured he needed occupation.
I gave him a task to cure his idleness.
"Go scout a suitable campsite."
Having gained nothing from his chit-chat, Yorden pouted and led his men ahead.
"I told you to watch that mouth of yours!"
"It's the captain's fault we're suffering!"
Hearing the rangers' fading voices, I chuckled softly.
"Your Highness."
Turning, I saw Shiorin there.
Having endured much stress traveling with the Third Prince's entourage, his handsome face had grown haggard in just days.
I was exhausted too.
Dealing with that bastard had worn me down considerably.
He was insufferably talkative and utterly lacking in tact.
That he hadn't unleashed his vile temper was only because he felt some false kinship with me and I'd readily given him what he wanted.
Even so, matching wits with history's greatest scum was utterly draining.
Only after he left did the stench begin to fade.
But what could I do? This was just the beginning.
The fishing had only just started.
And there were still plenty of fools out there eager to bite the juicy bait of the kingdom and Montpellier.
"Now, where's our next stop?"
"House Montenyou, Count. According to the information from the prince, no paladins, but an elite order called the White Gull Knights under their command—renowned knights all."
At Shiorin's answer, I turned to the rear.
"Our next opponents are the white gulls."
The Iron Lions roared in response.
"White gulls or white doves, we'll chew 'em up good!"
"Good. Then bird for dinner tonight."
Yorden, back from scouting, scowled at my words.
Didn't I tell you to find a campsite?
I neatly ignored the ranger's grumbling.
*
After the Third Prince departed, we stopped at House Montenyou, smashed the White Gull Knights, passed two more territories, and crushed two more knightly orders.
The imperial capital was now within reach.
I halted the delegation's procession and ordered a rest.
No one had shown it, but marching through the Empire—practically enemy territory—without mental fatigue would have been the real anomaly.
While the knights rested, I summoned Nicollo into my carriage.
"How's it going? Everything on track?"
At my question, Nicollo's eyes gleamed as he presented a paper.
A large map, densely packed with tiny script.
Tracing our delegation's route, it detailed every knightly order we'd faced, plus the Empire's knight intel from the Third Prince—all meticulously noted.
"A hundred knights and fifteen hundred soldiers; basing it on the Empire's standard organization, estimating garrison sizes isn't hard."
I smiled in satisfaction.
My trip to the Empire was to scout their state; the spars were mere means to that end.
The route itself was planned with military movement in mind, and the return path newly charted to cover any overlooked fortresses and houses.
In short, here I was in the Empire's heart, extracting their military secrets.
Slipping through the arrogance and sloth hardened over ages of unchallenged dominance—with the aid of a fool prince, no less.
I handed the map back to Nicollo, then to Gunu for safekeeping.
If trouble arose, she could smuggle it out undetected.
Sending Nicollo off, I briefly toured the camp.
Deep in Empire lands, yet knights and soldiers looked relatively relaxed.
Credit to our string of victories.
They brimmed with triumph, utterly undaunted.
I hoped all the kingdom's knights and soldiers would become like them.
Fearless before the Empire's name, fighting with pride.
I believed that day would come.
Gazing at the soldiers while envisioning that future, I felt eyes on me.
Turning, I saw Gerwein watching.
He didn't look away. He had something to say.
I nodded subtly to him.
Waiting in the carriage, Gerwein soon appeared.
"Speak if you have something to say."
After much hesitation, he finally spoke.
"What the hell did you do to my body?"