Chapter 123
Chapter 123
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 123
Chapter Title: 39. Usurper, and the Usurper's Heir (1)
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Two men whispered in low voices.
A third language, neither the empire's tongue nor the kingdom's.
They must have thought they were being cautious enough that I couldn't overhear.
If only they knew I possessed the authority of the Third Ear to eavesdrop on private conversations, backed by centuries of swordmaster knowledge to interpret it—they'd realize their feeble caution was worthless.
But they didn't know.
"I told you not to stick your nose in where it doesn't belong. You just can't sit still for a second."
"Is that what's important right now?"
They exchanged what wasn't quite a secret conversation right in front of me.
"It looks like he suspects something, but he's not certain, so let's just play along for now."
"And you call that a plan?"
"Got a better one?"
"No."
"Then what choice do we have? We play along."
After a long bout of whispering, the two men finally reached a conclusion and turned to me.
"It was nice meeting you. Let's talk again if there's another chance."
"We've kept you from resting when you must still be weary from your journey. We've been terribly rude."
They hurriedly finished speaking and turned to leave. It looked like they were making a clean exit.
But I had no intention of letting them slip away.
"Why? Leaving already? Didn't you say you wanted to meet our knights?"
"On second thought, it seems improper to take up the time of people who just arrived. You and your knights need rest, after all."
"No. It's fine. I can spare as much time as you want."
"Come on, even so... Huh?"
Doris Dotrin, who had been fumbling for excuses in response to my words, suddenly widened his eyes.
"You speak our language fluently."
He had only just realized I was speaking their language.
"Not many people know our tongue."
Doris let out an impressed exclamation from behind, while Jin Katrin, standing there, slapped his forehead with his hand.
Idiot prince. Is that really what you say now?
His gritted teeth and resentful tone said it all.
**
Back at the lodgings, I sternly instructed the knights to stay vigilant around the premises, then locked the door behind me.
I sat down directly across from the prince and his entourage.
The prince was fidgeting restlessly, scanning my room, while his retainer eyed me with probing curiosity.
Wondering just how much I knew, no doubt.
And since I'm not one for beating around the bush, I cut straight to the chase.
"What should I call you?"
Doris Dotrin—the supposed prince of some insignificant kingdom no one could pin down—was just a facade.
"Will Your Highness Dolosis Dotrumunt do?"
The moment I uttered the true name I'd gleaned from my authority,
Flash.
Jin Katrin unleashed a veil of subtle mana around me.
At the same instant, the hidden elf revealed himself.
Clink.
The elf's sword was already at Jin Katrin's throat.
"This is insane. Elves now, of all things."
Jin Katrin grumbled at the elf pressing a blade to his neck.
"What the hell are you?"
"Whatever I am, it won't shock you as much as your prince's true identity."
I glanced at him before turning to the prince.
The prince showed no surprise at the elf's sudden appearance and not a flicker of agitation even with a sword at his retainer's throat.
As if he could rescue his man anytime he wanted.
And he could.
That innocent-looking fool of a prince had the ability.
He was a natural predator of elves.
Back in the era when humans were treated like livestock by non-humans,
when the Iron-Blooded Sword Marquess, Agnes Bayern, slew the giant king Eda and liberated the northern lands,
four other great heroes had achieved feats no less legendary.
The prince before me was a descendant of one of them.
A hero who led the Sky Knight Order of a hundred wyvern riders,
the great knight who forced arrogant elves to take up bows instead of swords, who made them fear the skies until they fled into their dense forests.
Sky Marquess, Humbert Dotrumunt.
He was the true heir to that exalted Elector Marquess.
Unlike Adelia Bayern, who had forgotten her house's roots and legacy, he had inherited his ancestor's feats and traditions relatively intact.
Of course, that didn't mean he had reached the mythic level of his forebear. But he clearly possessed enough prowess to wield a few passages from the tradition.
And that alone would be enough to tear the elf apart.
Not wanting the pitiful half-elf to meet such an ignoble end, I ordered him to sheathe his sword and withdraw.
The elf vanished as quickly as he'd appeared, and the freed Jin Katrin turned to me.
"Never mind how you figured out who we are—what the hell do you want from us?"
I answered his blunt question without mincing words.
"The enemy of my enemy is my ally."
So let's join forces. Help each other if the need arises down the line.
Jin Katrin feigned ignorance at my words.
"Wouldn't it be better for us to just inform the empire of your intentions and take whatever reward they offer?"
I snorted in derision.
That was the most absurd thing I'd heard since awakening—and the dullest joke to boot.
I knew exactly how preposterous it was.
Even if every house in the world bowed flat before the empire,
even if the Leonberger royal family lost all will to resist and knelt before the emperor.
There were four houses that would never bow to him.
The Elector Marquess houses of east, west, south, and north—including House Dotrumunt.
To them, the emperor was someone who deserved to be torn apart and fed to dogs—and that wouldn't even be enough.
The founder of the Burgundy imperial house was revered as the continent's first rebel lord, the Foresight Marquess, a hero.
But after the Great War, he betrayed the pact among the Elector Marquesses, plunging an era of prosperity into ashes—a vile tyrant,
the first depraved wretch to wage war on fellow humans.
For a scion of House Dotrumunt to side with that traitor's kin? Absurd.
As Jin Katrin opened his mouth to retort to my scoff,
"Jin. That's enough probing."
the descendant of the Sky Marquess spoke.
The naive, foolish prince was gone.
In his place stood a man who had fully inherited his ancestor's storm-like aura, which once cleaved the skies.
"Now that we know our goals align, that's enough."
Jin Katrin bowed crisply at his words.
"My caution led to excessive words and actions. Forgive me."
"I know we wouldn't have made it safely to the imperial capital without your foresight and prudence. No need for self-reproach."
The prince sternly reassured his retainer before turning to me.
"The enemy of my enemy is my ally."
"Or comrades, perhaps."
He shook his head at my reply.
"I know an even better term."
The prince extended his hand with a grin.
"Let's be friends."
I gripped it without hesitation.
Friendship was an embarrassing word, but a descendant of the Sky Marquess made a fine comrade-in-arms.
"We're friends now."
The prince squeezed my hand firmly.
"Secret friends the empire knows nothing about."
His self-satisfied addition sounded suspiciously ominous for some reason.
I pulled my hand away reflexively.
**
The heir of the Sky Marquess, who had briefly shown a serious side, quickly reverted to his initial carefree demeanor and left all further matters to his retainer.
Through Jin Katrin, I learned their reason for visiting the empire wasn't much different from mine.
Inciting rivalry among the imperial princes for the throne to sow chaos in the empire.
And they too had pegged the Third Imperial Prince as the perfect catalyst.
Apparently, anyone could spot a kingdom-ruiner from a mile away.
The problem was we weren't the only ones who saw it.
The emperor and the imperial nobles knew the Third Prince had more than enough talent to doom even a thriving nation.
Jin Katrin pointed that out as well.
If the Third Prince took the throne, the empire would collapse on its own—great for them—but he doubted it would actually happen. He even called the fool too inept to cause real chaos before his brothers quietly purged him.
He was right. For that idiot to become the empire's calamity, he'd need real backing. Unfortunately, his retainers weren't the type to unlock his full potential.
When things turned sour, they'd betray him first and deliver his head on a platter.
As countermeasures, old Niccolo and Jin Katrin promised to do what they could.
I wasn't fond of scheming with intrigue over open battle.
Luckily, I had experts for that, so I delegated the plotting to them.
Swordsmen with swordsmen.
Pen-pushers with pen-pushers.
From our side, old Niccolo and Siorin Kirguyen stepped up; from theirs, Jin Katrin.
With the groundwork handed off, I focused on my own role.
"Bring the booze!"
I played the wastrel prince, forgetting even the dignity of a guest.
Day after day, drunken brawls and chaos.
The imperial nobles pointed fingers but didn't confront me directly.
Montpellier's reputation played a part, but more so the new ally I'd made here.
"Brother! Remember this day! We're stuck in the 15th Palace now, but one day, we'll claim the top 10!"
The uninvited Third Imperial Prince showed up to rampage alongside me.
Alone, it would've been mild drinking and shouting, but his every-other-day visits let me go full tilt.
Shouts, revelry, and casual property damage were bonuses.
"Your Highness's notoriety is spreading through the palace."
Kals informed me of the rumors circulating in the palace, his face etched with displeasure.
A dog when drunk,
an oblivious fool unaware his life hung by a thread,
a wastrel ready to hand his kingdom wholesale to Montpellier.
The knights despised my reputation and pitied me for forcing myself into unbecoming antics. In truth, I wasn't struggling at all.
The booze, once tasteless, now suited my palate perfectly, and the rampages were subtly relieving stress.
I even felt addicted to the strange thrill and liberation.
"Arwen, so this is what you meant."
Tipsy and excited, I said it, but she turned serious.
"Absolutely not."
Her firm denial left me awkward, so I pretended otherwise.
Living like a normal person was too tall an order for me.
But that wasn't the point right now.
Even amid the faux revelry, I never relaxed. I constantly reminded myself this was enemy territory, sharpening my mind to a razor's edge.
I couldn't forget even if I tried.
Not with so many covert gazes tracking my every move. How could I?
Two weeks into playing the wastrel under unseen surveillance, the thoroughly drunk Third Prince let slip something unusual.
Our delegation had been lodged in the 15th Palace by the emperor's direct order.
The moment I heard it, realization dawned.
Even after crushing us so thoroughly.
Even after pounding us into a state beyond resistance.
Even after reducing the kingdom to ruins.
The emperor still hadn't dropped his guard.
What a thorough, petty bastard.
And cunning, too.
This slip from the Third Prince in his cups was surely part of the emperor's scheme.
A transparent ploy.
Testing how I'd react.
If I cowered like a frightened dog, he'd laugh.
If I bared my teeth like a wolf, he'd come to rip them out.
He was weighing every possibility.
So was I.
I'd anticipated every trick he might pull, including this scenario.
I submitted the response I'd prepared in advance.
Whether it was right or wrong would reveal itself in time.
And that time wasn't far off.
The New Year's banquet was nearly upon us.
And finally, the day arrived.
Whether kingdom or empire, lower-ranking guests entered first. Having bunked with the 15th Palace rabble, I attended early with the delegation.
Amid stares treating me like a circus monkey, I waited for the emperor to appear.
"Hmph!"
Soon after Marquis Entrant, who glared as if to devour me, entered, a herald bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"The rightful sovereign of Burgundy, most noble, wise, and merciful—His Imperial Majesty Orteaga de Burgundy and his imperial family enter!"
The banquet hall's air froze in that instant.
Forcing stiff bows,
Thud. Thud.
footsteps echoed.
The herald had announced the entire imperial family entering together,
yet only a single set of footsteps reached my ears.
Huff, huff.
As the steps drew nearer, breaths grew labored.
Heat surged within.
But before it could kindle into flame, a gentle aura scattered it.
My mind cleared.
Only then did I realize someone was gripping my hand tightly.
Smaller and softer than a knight's.
Thanks, Arwen.
Don't mention it.
Her hand slipped away gently.
The emperor's footsteps, once so close, receded again.
Moments later, a low voice rang out.
"Raise your heads."
I straightened and looked to the dais.
There stood the emperor of the empire.