Chapter 202
Chapter 202
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 202
Chapter Title: 61. What It Means to Carry on the Blood (3)
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In truth, it was only natural that the descendants of the Progenitor Duke had not forgotten their martial hymn.
No matter how much the current era revered the rings over the heart, the feats and spirit of their ancestors were monumental achievements that no mere ring ability could touch. There was no way they would discard them lightly.
In fact, the heirs of House Dottrument and the Knights of the Open Sky had preserved the Duke of the Open Sky's [Ode of Genesis] in its original form.
Even if the feats and spirit contained within fell short of the originals from ages past.
Thus, it was no surprise that the Burgundy bloodline still remembered the feats and spirit of their ancestor, the [Foresight Duke].
The problem lay in the aptitude of the fool babbling like a madman right before my eyes.
Traditions are not passed to the unworthy—non-holders shall not transmit. Those without the vessel to bear it are never taught from the start.
The Third Prince was the perfect example.
He lacked any vessel worthy of the tradition. All he possessed were traits akin to disasters.
Yet this wretched fool had brazenly pulled out a fragment of the tradition right in front of me.
The tradition he invoked was undoubtedly part of the Foresight Duke's legacy, which had reached the realm of [Myth].
By rights, merely drawing forth a piece of a tradition too vast to handle should have torn his soul apart in agony. But he stood there utterly unscathed.
That meant someone in the Burgundy bloodline had excerpted just enough of the [Myth]—precisely what he could bear—and passed it on to him.
And that someone was undoubtedly the Emperor.
I focused every ounce of my mind to discern the Emperor's intentions.
Thinking about the Emperor always felt like groping through darkness for a path, a bleak endeavor. But fortunately, this time was different.
The aura of the poem the Third Prince had recklessly recited still lingered in the air around us.
I circulated my mana, drawing that aura toward me.
In my mind, I endlessly replayed the Burgundy martial hymn he had so ignorantly spouted.
"There are countless kings in the world, but among them, the true king is Burgundy alone."
The verses sang of the one and only king in the world, yet they lacked any grand ambition or aspiration.
All that filled them was blind praise and worship directed solely at Burgundy.
It felt like a blow to the back of my head.
The essence of the poem was far too ill-suited for an imperial prince of a nation.
It was more akin to a slave's ode to their master.
If I had to draw a comparison.
Yes. It was exactly like the poem Adelia Bayern had dedicated to me.
[Ode of Subjugation]
The wording differed, but the essence was identical, carved from the same mold.
A slave's hymn to their master.
Not a martial hymn, but a song closer to an oath.
A vow of submission.
I examined him once more.
The arrogant, supremely self-important prince of the Empire.
A lowly slave extolling their master's greatness.
Two utterly incompatible identities flickered back and forth within him.
As I stared blankly at the sight, a sudden thought flashed through my mind.
A hypothesis so horrifying I could scarcely imagine it if I were an ordinary human.
But since I was no ordinary human either, it came to me unbidden.
A single, terrifying conjecture born merely from contemplation.
Perhaps, to the Emperor, his heirs were nothing more than vessels to hold power.
Much like how I, once a sword, had seized this body and masqueraded as a human.
Gooseflesh prickled across my skin.
I shook off the ominous chill with effort.
Just speculation. An absurd leap. I repeated it to myself endlessly.
But the insight and instincts honed over countless ages as an observer whispered relentlessly to me.
Consider the being who alone towered above an era where feats could no longer be amassed, gazing down upon the world.
Wasn't it strange how closely the Emperor's temperament mirrored that of the Burgundy founder?
The Emperor's image, which I had witnessed firsthand, kept fueling my imagination.
To that was added the recent declaration of the Fifth Prince.
Unhuman path, defying heaven.
All signs pointed to a single, shared truth.
"This should be answer enough."
By the time the Third Prince finally urged me to conclude the truce negotiations, looking my way, I was certain.
I couldn't know if the Emperor truly saw his own blood kin as mere vessels. But it was clear that whoever inherited the throne would possess the means to pass on the family's tradition and power.
That was why he had shown indifference even if the most foolish and greedy Third Prince ascended.
After all, nothing would change no matter who took the throne.
"Must you test the limits of my patience! How long do you intend to drag out this farce of a meeting?!"
The Third Prince demanded once more that we finalize the truce.
Instead of answering, I simply regarded him silently.
Tap. Tap.
I drummed my fingers on the table, pondering the Third Prince's fate.
Should I bolster his power as originally planned?
Or sever his life here to check the Emperor?
As I deliberated, killing intent must have leaked unwittingly.
Crack!
The banners of both sides, lined up in the still air of the open field, billowed as if about to burst.
"Withdraw your aura! This is a place for discussing peace!"
The Burgundy knights, sensing the ominous pressure, placed hands on their sword hilts and shouted at me.
"How dare you reach for your swords before His Highness!"
The one-eyed cavalry commander and his spearmen snarled fiercely at the imperial knights.
"Wasn't it your crown prince who first exuded killing intent?!"
"He was merely looking! Don't make excuses!"
Shouts flew back and forth.
Shing!
Knights from both sides drew swords and spears, aiming them at one another.
The once-peaceful negotiation ground was no more.
Now, it had become a tinderbox where a bloodbath could erupt at any moment.
Hummmm.
The Empire's paladins dramatically unleashed blazing sword auras.
The kingdom's silver knights responded in kind, infusing their blades with energy.
Killing intent and hostility roiled in every direction.
Tension filled the field to the brim.
Toooooot.
Thrum, thrum, thrum.
Both armies frantically blew horns and beat drums, scrambling into motion.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
The Third Prince, who had retreated in fear amid the suddenly hostile atmosphere, belatedly protested to me.
"It's not too late! Withdraw your aura and stand down now!"
The Empire's paladins issued threats in my direction.
"You're insane. No sane man would do this. You clearly want to see your own kingdom burn. Otherwise, why would you act out like this?!"
The Third Prince bellowed that he would tolerate no further outbursts.
He resembled a pathetic dog barking in terror.
Watching him, my killing intent subsided as if it had been a lie.
I couldn't cut down a potential seed of imperial disaster based on mere conjecture alone.
Killing him later, once everything was confirmed, would not be too late.
"The seal."
At my word, Adelia, waiting behind me, handed over the crown prince's seal.
Slide.
I picked up the negotiation document from the table.
And stamped it with the crown prince's seal.
"Huh?"
The Third Prince let out a dumbfounded noise at my unexpected action.
"What are you waiting for? Stamp it."
Only after my nonchalant remark did he affix his own seal to the document.
"A wise decision!"
As if he had never whimpered in fear, he grinned broadly.
"Today's choice has saved the kingdom..."
"I know."
I waved him off as he quickly grew arrogant and started blathering.
"Now get lost."
Before watching him further changed my mind.
"H-How dare you..."
The Third Prince trembled, face flushed red.
But aware that causing a scene now, after finally concluding the truce, would harm only himself, he ground his teeth and turned away.
"Hmph! Insolent cur! You'll regret this later."
With that, the Third Prince left the field.
The Burgundy knights followed suit and vanished.
I watched them go, then turned and departed the field myself.
The next day, the imperial legions began withdrawing from the border en masse.
My kingdom's forces and I kept a vigilant watch along the border, prepared for any possible enemy deception.
But no irregularities occurred.
By the end of the week, not a single imperial soldier remained along the frontier.
The kingdom's southern army marched south, absorbing the imperial fortresses and territories ceded as truce reparations, one by one.
Thus, they redrew the borderlines and prepared for the next calamity to come.
But before that, it was time to rejoice in the kingdom's hard-won victory and savor the peace.
However brief that peace might be.
"The eastern fleet is currently en route back!"
Amid this, word arrived that the king and the eastern fleet, dispatched to the Empire, were returning.
"I wonder what face he'll make upon seeing the kingdom's expanded territory."
I chuckled softly, imagining the king, who should now be aboard the front lines heading back to the kingdom.
But the wait wasn't entirely pleasant.
The war was over, and the kingdom had reclaimed peace. Yet I still had unfinished business.
I needed the king to return as swiftly as possible so I could lay down this burden and focus on what lay ahead.
Though the chances of him approving my plans were slim.
[The Leonberger Kingdom has emerged victorious from the war.]
A single piece of war news from the north.
People were astonished that a minor kingdom on the periphery had withstood the Empire's fierce assault.
But the true shock lay elsewhere.
"The Empire has permanently ceded parts of its border territories to the kingdom. They're also paying massive war reparations. That's as good as admitting defeat."
The minor northern kingdom hadn't merely endured—it had achieved such a decisive victory that the Empire acknowledged its loss. People marveled at the kingdom's astonishing feat of arms.
Following two failed punitive expeditions and now another defeat, doubts began to creep in about the Empire's might.
"There are no eternal empires in this world."
Some hotheads even proclaimed the Empire's fate sealed, predicting a new order on the continent.
Given the Empire's string of defeats leading into civil war, their words didn't seem entirely fanciful.
In fact, signs pointed to the imperial civil war dragging on.
The Fifth Prince, backed by the Magic Tower, wasn't rashly marching on the capital. Instead, he was steadily expanding his influence from the Empire's western regions.
Unsurprisingly, clashes with nobles loyal to the Emperor were constant.
The Third Prince was also leading his forces back to the mainland, but having ventured deep into the frontier, it would take considerable time to reach the Fifth Prince's sphere of influence.
Seizing the moment, minor realms long suppressed by the Empire began raising their heads.
None had openly rebelled against the Empire yet, but their attitudes had undeniably shifted.
This was the moment when the continental situation began to quake.
"They say the Leonberger royal family's firstborn is quite the talent."
As the continental landscape shifted dramatically, interest surged in the war hero who had turned a hopeless conflict into victory.
"Word is he's largely responsible for securing this triumph."
"I hear he's the kingdom's youngest paladin."
"Looks like the blood of that northern lion ancestor hasn't thinned out."
People hailed the Leonberger royal heir as the "Young Lion of the North," praising his valor and achievements.
"From what I've heard, he's still unmarried, without even a fiancée."
"It's a shame the kingdom's future king hasn't found a suitable match yet."
Some even hoped to forge blood ties with the young northern war hero.
"If the Young Lion of the North were here..."
And among them were those who had already swiftly dispatched matchmakers.