Chapter 239
Chapter 239
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 239
Chapter Title: 69. The Pack Chasing Dawn (3)
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I believed it was time to catch our breath for a while. After recovering from the damages of the recent war and tending to the kingdom's shaky state, I thought.
So I figured peace would hold for a good long stretch.
But out of nowhere, a declaration of war.
"All the flood-ravaged territories we lost in the last war have been reclaimed, and Dotrin Kingdom forces are currently advancing toward the Empire's mainland."
And not just any declaration—this one hit like a thunderbolt.
But it seemed I was the only one caught off guard by the situation.
"What's the Empire's response?"
"Dotrin's advance was so lightning-fast that they haven't mounted any significant counter yet. According to our spies, light cavalry have sortied from the gates heading west, so it looks like they're planning to hunker down behind closed gates until reinforcements arrive from the capital."
The king asked the royal knight about the situation with unflappable calm, showing not a hint of surprise. The knight, in turn, didn't find the king's demeanor odd in the slightest.
As if they knew everything from the start.
"No way..."
Watching that unshakable poise, conviction settled in me.
They had anticipated Dotrin making this move from the very beginning.
There was no other way they could be so composed.
Overlooked facts came rushing back to me belatedly.
Why Dotrin hadn't sent a single envoy to our victory banquet. Why no one in the kingdom had questioned it.
I felt utterly deflated.
The Dawn Alliance's formation, Dotrin's bold maneuvers—I'd been the only one in the dark.
Everyone else knew, and I'd been completely oblivious.
"Report back the moment you hear anything else."
"As Your Majesty commands!"
As I let out a sigh, the royal knight finished his report and departed.
The king turned to me.
"You look rather displeased."
"I was just wondering if I really am this kingdom's crown prince."
I'd answered in a curt tone without realizing it.
Being sidelined from every major event was grating on my nerves.
The king regarded me with a generous smile.
He explained that with my thunderbolt temper, if war news reached me, I'd throw myself into the fray as a mercenary or worse, so they'd kept it from me as a precaution.
"You must think I'm some war-crazed lunatic."
The king stared at me steadily instead of replying.
I was at a loss for words.
Truth be told, if I'd known ahead of time, I would've found some way to get in on the action—and now I regretted missing out.
I masked my thoughts and deftly changed the subject.
"Dotrin's declaration could give the Burgundy imperial family an excuse to halt their civil war."
"What did the 5th Prince cite as justification for his rebellion?"
The king countered my statement with a question of his own.
"Driving out an emperor who dabbles in inhuman heresies and restoring legitimacy..."
I answered absently, then caught the implication and fell silent.
"With the 5th Prince having utterly rejected the current emperor's authority, they can't stop fighting until one side crumbles. If they did, the emperor would lose all legitimacy, and the 5th Prince his cause for rebellion."
The king was spot on.
If there was no chance of the civil war pausing, no better time existed to strike the Empire than now.
And that made it all the more frustrating.
While they'd devoted generations to preparing for war against the Empire, we'd been scrambling just to survive.
We'd barely won our independence and the last war, but the kingdom was reeling from it.
It would take time to gear up for another conflict.
I'd known this intellectually, but picturing Dotrin's king laughing as he cut down imperial knights filled me with fresh impatience.
"The kingdom will be ready by next winter at the latest. No need to get so worked up."
The king admonished me as if reading my mind.
"This is a war to topple an empire that rules half the continent. It'll be a long slog, not something wrapping up in a single year."
When I still fidgeted, he fixed me with a stern tone.
It didn't matter who struck first. What truly counted was who ended it.
I forced myself to settle down.
As the king said, it wasn't a quick fight.
After that, I gave vague replies to his questions and rose to leave.
Hearing war news had left my mind too restless to sit longer.
"Then I'll take my leave."
As I moved to depart his chambers, the king stopped me with words that felt like warning or threat.
"Take good care of yourself. See that you don't ruin your health again through recklessness. I won't spare a single soldier or knight for someone who doesn't value his own body."
"No need for concern."
I assured him confidently.
After repelling the Empire's raid, what more could possibly go wrong?
**
Back at my palace, a guest awaited.
"You look far sturdier than I imagined."
The Teuton princess scanned me from head to toe.
"Disappointed?"
"As if. Your Highness must be hale for me to chase my dreams to the end."
She flashed a broad smile.
Not the innocent one from our first meeting, but a natural one laced just enough with ambition.
"Heading out now?"
She nodded at my words.
"With my original goal achieved, lingering would only distract from home affairs."
"Fair enough. Situations are complicated enough without prolonged absences. Safe travels."
She frowned.
"Is that all?"
"What, expecting a tearful send-off for our grand romance?"
Her pouting face drew a laugh from me unbidden.
I smiled and bid her farewell once more.
"Safe travels. Achieve everything you set out for."
Only then did her expression soften.
"Thank you. That's what I wanted to hear. Might not get the chance later."
She stared at me intently.
Then she strode forward and thrust out her hand abruptly.
I blinked in confusion before grasping her intent and taking her hand.
As I shook it loosely and pulled away, her small hand clamped desperately onto my palm.
Grip tight.
Her full effort, yet feather-light compared to a knight's iron grasp.
My questioning gaze prompted her indignant huff.
"It's unfair."
The words came out of left field for me.
"What's unfair?"
"You've given me so much, I can't even hate you. It wounds my pride."
Her voice brimmed with genuine displeasure.
She'd just thanked me, and now this? I couldn't make sense of it.
I tugged my hand back, but hers clung stubbornly.
"What are you—"
I started to frown, then glimpsed her face and stopped.
The emotions flickering in the princess's glaring eyes were profoundly complex.
Something poignant in them made me relax my pull.
"Eek."
She shook my loosened hand wildly up and down until, exhausted, she finally let go.
"Next time we meet, you won't treat me this casually."
"If there's even a next time."
My retort irked her again, and she bristled.
"Anyway, take care. No need to see me off—you're not exactly in peak shape."
With a somewhat angry farewell, she turned away.
I watched her go out the door, then softly called to her back with a smile.
"Safe travels, Hestia."
The princess halted mid-step at the threshold.
She paused there a moment, then vanished without turning.
Her not looking back strangely put me at ease.
Gazing at the spot she'd left, I murmured softly.
"Guess next time it's 'Your Majesty the Queen.'"
I couldn't pinpoint her change of heart, but the Queenly Rule trait, unblossomed when she first entered this room, had fully flowered by the end.
Soon, Teuton Kingdom would enter an era under a queen's reign.
For some reason, I looked forward to that day.
"Still can't shake old habits, huh."
Likely a remnant from her sword-wielding days. I chuckled to myself.
And two days passed.
I perched on the spire's roof, quietly watching the Teuton delegation depart.
The princess, farewelled by the king and nobles, cut a supremely confident figure.
Impeccable as both envoy and royal.
After greeting the king, she glanced around.
As if searching for something.
Finally, she mouthed something faintly and turned—her lips forming what looked suspiciously like a curse.
Heartless bastard, not even seeing me off?
I decided to pretend I hadn't seen the noble princess cursing.
Amid the king and nobles' send-off, the Teuton delegation passed through the gates.
Duncan Seymour Tudor glanced briefly at my spire, then spun on his heel.
Starting with the Teutons, envoys who'd visited the kingdom departed one by one over the following days, spaced out.
But the kingdom's nobles gathered at court remained.
As if awaiting something.
Meanwhile, Dotrin and the Empire kept clashing.
Fresh reports arrived every few days.
Dotrin's wyvern knights had toppled a fortress.
Dotrin legions seized another outpost.
Victory after victory.
And amid this string of triumphs, I learned something astonishing.
Dotrin had mobilized at least forty legions for this war.
I'd known they'd prepared for generations and held reserves beyond the last defensive war.
Still, the sheer scale left me impressed.
I'd suspected hidden forces, but not this many.
Dotrin forces advanced like a whirlwind.
At this rate, the Empire's eastern territories falling to them was only a matter of time.
"Even with the civil war in chaos, this is ridiculous."
Even if central command was in tatters, getting steamrolled like this defied belief.
I began suspecting the imperial forces had some hidden ploy.
Racking my brains yielded no answers.
Lost in fruitless worry, a forgotten fact jolted me upright.
"Oh crap! Malkoy!"
The last scion of fallen Marseille Kingdom, former imperial legion commander turned kingdom captive and defector—a tactical genius, Malkoy de Marseille.
"I thought peace had come and you'd forgotten all about trash like me."
Summoned after I'd belatedly remembered him, Malkoy faced me with prickly attitude.
Just like when he'd first been captured.
Having promised him equal opportunity to shine, only to blank on his existence, I had nothing to say even with ten mouths.
"N-no way, Your Highness. You really forgot about me?"
Malkoy stared at my face, then asked with a shocked look.
Unable to lie, I clamped my mouth shut.
He gawked at me blankly.
I averted his gaze, rolling my eyes every which way.