Chapter 196
Chapter 196
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 196
Chapter Title: 60. Fanning the Flames (2)
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"A few years ago, I would have agreed that the 3rd Prince was the very model of incompetence and greed. But when you think about the cunning he displayed in the war against Dotrin, you can't just write him off as completely useless."
Malkoy, having learned the true identity of the enemy supreme commander, paused briefly before raising an objection to my assessment.
"The empire's nobles are seriously considering the possibility that the 3rd Prince has been hiding his abilities all this time, biding his moment. I tend to agree with them."
Malkoy emphasized that the 3rd Prince was now one of the leading candidates for the imperial throne, figuring I wouldn't know such details since I wasn't from the empire.
"If he were truly just the greedy, incompetent wastrel the rumors painted him as, he wouldn't have racked up such impressive achievements in the war with Dotrin."
He repeatedly warned me to be wary of the 3rd Prince.
"Your Highness wasn't there, so it might not hit home for you. But speaking as someone who fought in the Dotrin campaign myself, holding your forces together and retreating all the way back to the homeland while every fortress we held crumbled and the Dotrin royal army counterattacked—that was no easy feat."
But seeing I wasn't taking his warning to heart, he sighed and delved into his own painful memories.
"Out of the empire's thirty-odd legions that marched on Dotrin, only the 3rd Prince's forces anticipated the fortress collapses in advance, avoiding heavy losses. They shook off Dotrin's relentless pursuit, regrouped their troops safely, and made it back to the homeland intact."
His expression seemed to ask if that wasn't enough to make anyone wary of the 3rd Prince.
But far from feeling alarmed, I could barely stifle a laugh.
"By that logic, the 3rd Prince has more than proven his capabilities—overflowing, even."
He had it all wrong. Dead wrong. The 3rd Prince had never proven a thing.
He'd just taken whatever was handed to him.
"There's no way the Dotrin Kingdom went easy only on the 3rd Prince's army."
In fact, that's exactly what happened.
From start to finish, the Dotrin royal army had fought with kid gloves on for the 3rd Prince.
Even as they pressed hard, they handed him just enough victories to save face. When they collapsed the fortresses, they tipped him off early enough to escape the destruction. And when they hammered the withdrawing imperial forces, they only pretended to chase his army without truly engaging.
I explained all this to Malkoy in detail.
"How could Your Highness possibly know that..."
Of course, he didn't buy it easily.
"I was there myself. Not as a prince back then, but as a mercenary."
His eyes went wide, his face a picture of disbelief at the absurdity.
It wasn't absurd at all.
It would be far stranger if anyone readily believed that a kingdom's heir to the throne had disguised himself as a mercenary to fight in a foreign war.
I drew the sword I'd set on the conference table.
"A soldier dies and becomes six silver coins; a knight dies and becomes thirty gold."
"Victory is but empty glory—what fills my coffers is the eternal truth of fleeting death."
Inwardly, I recited the Mercenary King's heroic ode that I'd heard endlessly on the Dotrin front.
Malkoy stared at me blankly, utterly confused as to why I'd suddenly drawn my sword.
I channeled mana into the blade right in front of him, making a show of it.
Flash.
A dull yellow light erupted from the sword that had shown no glow before.
"Highwind Citadel. The Swordmaster of the golden aura blade."
"...No way!"
True to his quick mind, Malkoy grasped my point instantly and gaped.
"Don't tell me Your Highness is the leader of the Veil Mercenaries—Ian?"
"Veil was the name of someone I held dear, and Ian was his pet name for me."
I grinned and gave a brief rundown of what I'd done in Dotrin.
"I was the Dotrin Swordmaster who captured the 3rd Prince alive. I was the collaborator who helped the captive prince escape. I was the one who drilled Highwind Citadel's weaknesses into that terrified fool's head so he wouldn't forget them mid-panic. And I was the one who warned him of the collapse ahead of time, letting him slip out of the fortress."
I laughed merrily at Malkoy's slack-jawed stare.
"The idiot was so dense, I had to work overtime just to get him to swallow what I fed him."
Malkoy, dazed by my words, sank into his own thoughts.
"So the 3rd Prince really is the incompetent, greedy bum the rumors said..."
He pieced together the current situation from what I'd told him.
"And propping up that worthless prince with victories to boost his profile... was all to make the empire's strongest throne contender look like a fool and sow chaos..."
He even grasped intentions I hadn't spelled out.
But even sharp Malkoy assumed my efforts with the 3rd Prince were just to stir up imperial chaos—and nothing more.
Wrong. What I wanted was far grander.
3rd Prince. I wanted the 3rd Prince to become emperor of the empire someday.
So his rare, disaster-like traits could fully bloom, toppling the millennium empire without leaving so much as a foundation stone. I still vividly remembered the moment I first met him.
As I crossed vast territories and prosperous cities, feeling the empire's daunting might, despair gnawing at me before that overwhelming national power that wouldn't crumble easily.
The 3rd Prince appeared before me like a single starbeam in the darkness.
Dazzling, truly.
That arrogant, obnoxious face that so perfectly mirrored a certain kingdom's wastrel.
The shabby traits floating above his head.
[Arrogant], [Overconfident], [Greedy], [Indulgent], [Lustful], [Violent]
Traits revealing his trashy nature barely registered.
Born at the pinnacle as an imperial prince, being arrogant, greedy, and indulgent almost seemed natural.
If even a prince from some failing kingdom was like that, what was strange about an imperial prince being even more haughty and brutal?
What caught my eye weren't traits of his temperament, but his inborn disposition—unalterable fate.
Like Adelia's [War Maniac] and [Slaughterer].
A trait so horrific that even the mad coward's flaws seemed charming by comparison.
[Heavenly Slaughter Star]
He was born under the fate of a massacrer.
Those born with [Heavenly Slaughter Star] followed one of two paths.
They either rampaged alone to self-destruction or wrought havoc, shattering everything around them.
The former were too inept to even cause proper chaos; the latter had just enough talent to torment their surroundings.
And the 3rd Prince I'd seen was definitely the former.
A trash born under [Heavenly Slaughter Star] but lacking talent to even win among princes, doomed to bully underlings and self-destruct without blooming his grand trait.
I had no intention of letting that happen.
A rare human calamity had finally appeared in the empire—how could I let it fizzle out pointlessly?
Nothing could be more regrettable.
It mustn't happen.
If needed, I'd give him the talent he utterly lacked and ensure he soared.
Thankfully, he wasn't some ordinary family's headache or a middling noble's wastrel.
And he had another trait as horrific as [Heavenly Slaughter Star].
[Dynasty-Shattering Prodigy]
An avatar of ruin, excelling at wrecking the intact.
Such a creature was direct blood of the Burgundy imperial line, with a claim to succession.
The 3rd Prince had ample pretext and backing to wield power in place of his paltry talent and incompetence.
All he needed was a bit of military merit and fame.
And the Dotrin war had filled that to overflowing.
Now, I just had to wait.
Wait for his calamity traits to bloom.
It would be fun to see if [Heavenly Slaughter Star] or [Dynasty-Shattering Prodigy] awakened first.
Best if they bloomed together, like Adelia's.
While I mused on the 3rd Prince, Malkoy seemed to finish sorting his thoughts.
He was staring at me intently now.
But his gaze felt oddly off. Familiar, somehow.
"To think Your Highness was that Swordmaster who shone on the Dotrin front."
It was just like...
"The one who single-handedly held off countless imperial knights and mages, ultimately forcing the Dotrin army to retreat."
The way I looked at Yorden.
"Who brashly called himself a one-man legion to mockery, but proved his words in the end..."
Wondering where he could be useful.
But I wasn't some disposable subordinate commander like Yorden, to be used at will.
I was the kingdom's proud crown prince. Time to give this impudent new staff officer with his scheming eyes some real work.
"Revise all operations."
Malkoy snapped to attention.
"Press them hard, but rig the plans so the 3rd Prince can save face."
"How much face should we save him?"
Quick on the uptake as ever, I pondered Malkoy's question before replying.
"Victories away from key strongholds should suffice. If needed, concede a minor fortress or outpost. But under no circumstances must our kingdom's soldiers fall pointlessly."
"Tricky. Lose but without casualties."
"And ensure we can repay the empire tenfold later."
"You're piling on the challenges. Anything else I should keep in mind?"
I didn't hesitate with the most crucial order.
"Above all, guarantee the 3rd Prince's safety."
Malkoy looked baffled.
Talking about the enemy commander like he was some allied VIP must have struck him as absurd.
"Not something we can just wish into being. An imperial prince and supreme commander—do you think he'll expose himself that easily?"
I reiterated, nonchalant.
"The 3rd Prince must survive."
"Understood. We'll keep him unscathed, no matter what."
"Absolutely."
"Anyone'd think we'd already won the war. Fussing over saving the enemy commander already."
Malkoy subtly chided my impatience, but I ignored it.
I knew better.
By all logic, an imperial throne contender and supreme commander like the 3rd Prince would rarely come to harm on the battlefield.
But he defied logic.
He'd already been captured once in Dotrin—a situation neither I nor the Dotrin army intended.
Letting a bird in hand fly free would have been unnatural, so we took him prisoner, but it forced revisions to our plans, giving both Dotrin commanders and me headaches.
If that were the only time, we could chalk it up to a young, hot-blooded prince's mishap.
But the 3rd Prince had exposed himself to danger more than once.
If asked my toughest moment on the Dotrin front, I'd say every instant he showed up.
As if suicidal, he kept throwing himself into needless peril.
I had to race around like mad to keep ignorant soldiers and knights from killing him.
Unknown to allies or enemies.
Shielding him from stray arrows or blades, from wounds that'd sideline him without glory.
That's how I babysat him through the first campaign.
At least in the second, he stayed out of direct combat—small mercy.
Had I to clean up after him there too, I might not have held back from killing the fool, grand plan be damned.
What a bizarre case.
A coward who sniffed out death traps like a ghost. Where else in the world?
I warned Malkoy once more.
"Malkoy. Pray the last two wars have made the 3rd Prince cautious."
Or that his vastly elevated status now served as a sturdy shield.
Either way, I hoped he wouldn't rampage like a thunderbolt this time.
But sadly, my hopes were dashed all too soon.
Before the enemy main force even reached our fortress,
as I slipped out stealthily with a small band of knights including Percival to intercept a border-crossing enemy scout party,
there he was, among the small scout group I'd targeted.
"Charge."
A sigh escaped me.
I couldn't ignore him.
His escorts were too tempting a prize.
Five mages, one paladin, and several skilled knights.
Left alone, they'd wreak havoc on our troops later.
I agonized over it.
But the answer was decided from the start.
"The emperor didn't preemptively cull this potentially troublesome incompetent prince because he figured the fool would find his own grave and die young."
Sighing, I signaled the ambushing knights.
"Prepare for battle."
The knights silently readied their crossbows.
At that instant, the approaching enemy scouts halted.
The paladin stepped in front of the prince.
He'd sensed our bloodlust and stopped the formation. No doubt.
Flash.
A wave utterly unlike a knight's rippled out. A translucent barrier bloomed late, shielding the scouts' front.
A magical shield from the mages.
"So much for the surprise attack."
Percival nodded at my words.
"Shall we pull back then? A full knight detachment with a vigilant paladin and five mages. Tough for a frontal clash... Your Highness?"
Hearing Percival behind me, I sprang up from my crouch.
The imperial scouts' auras churned upon spotting me.
The mages sneered coldly, lips moving. The stern-eyed paladin shielded the prince.
"Kill all the knights and mages."
And the oblivious idiot, forever courting death, just stared blankly this way, clueless to the unfolding peril.
With a face like he'd spotted insignificant prey.
Blind to who the real prey was.
"...We'll spare that moron for now and release him later when the chance arises."
Glare locked on the 3rd Prince, I kicked off the ground with all my might.
Boom!
At that moment, the mages unleashed flames, ice, and lightning straight at me.
I swung my sword into the maelstrom of mana without a second's hesitation.