Chapter 250
Chapter 250
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 250
Chapter Title: 71. Virtues of the Crown Prince (6)
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Before the woman could even finish her words, screams erupted from all directions.
Screams that were distinctly inhuman—thick and chilling.
Monsters' heads and body parts burst forth from various spots.
Clank! Clank!
A heavy metallic sound followed a beat late.
"We can't let a single one escape!"
"Leave the monsters to the knights—soldiers, protect the villagers!"
With a resonant command, knights in heavy armor and soldiers sliced through the monsters like bundles of straw.
And the massacre began.
This time, it was the monsters on the receiving end.
Hansen stared at the scene with a dumbfounded expression.
"Th-they really came?"
Just as the villagers had said, soldiers had arrived.
Not just any soldiers, but ones accompanied by knights gleaming in full plate armor.
The nobles and knights he knew wouldn't bat an eye at a rundown hamlet like this, no matter what happened to it.
"When people first face monsters, they usually lose their wits to the stench and freeze under their gaze, getting torn apart without even realizing it."
That clear voice rang in his ear as he stood there blankly.
"For an untrained man to thrust a spear at such monsters is impressive in itself. You can take pride in today's deed."
Hansen turned to find the voice's owner.
"Ah..."
But the speaker had already vanished from before his eyes.
Looking around, he belatedly spotted a female knight far ahead, pouring out sword flashes like starlight as she cut down monsters.
"Consider it an honor. The knight you just saw is one of His Highness the Crown Prince's direct subordinates. Not just any— she's one of the kingdom's eight Silver Lions, whom His Highness holds in highest regard."
As he watched her entranced, a man approached and spoke.
The man wore leather armor that clearly set him apart from the others.
"Silver Lion..."
Hansen, gazing blankly at the soldier, suddenly lit up and asked,
"What's her name?"
"Lady Arwen Kirguyen of the Kirguyen Count family. Us common folk just call her the Steel Knight."
"Steel Knight..."
Hansen repeated the words "Steel Knight" several times.
"How do I become her soldier?"
"She doesn't take personal soldiers. But it's not impossible."
"Tell me how. I'll make it worth your while."
The soldier grinned slyly.
Hansen, lost in gazing at the knight's back, missed the soldier's expression.
"Head to Ballerhard in the North. Enlist as a ranger there."
Had he seen it, he might have realized the soldier had ulterior motives.
"And they'll take me just like that?"
"Oh, and make sure to say this to the recruiting officer."
"What?"
"That you've come to kick Yorden's ass."
"Who's that?"
"Doesn't matter. Say that, and they'll take you on the spot. After that, it's up to you."
But Hansen, having endured far too many shocks that day, was overly excited and made a decision he'd regret for life.
"Thank you. It's not much, but here's my thanks."
He even handed over precious goods from his pack.
"Two hundred and thirty-three. All of them taken care of, not a single one left alive."
At the knight's report, Arwen Kirguyen was about to firmly order another check for any survivors when she held her tongue.
Ballerhard rangers, who had guided them, were already scurrying about, stabbing swords into the fallen monsters' corpses.
"We move out as soon as cleanup is done."
"Right now?"
"On our way here, His Highness warned that such incidents would erupt across the kingdom. We've confirmed it multiple times. Every moment we delay means more lives lost. No time to waste."
The knight nodded in agreement, then asked as if it just occurred to him,
"How did His Highness foresee all this? It's truly astonishing."
"His depths are unfathomable. The grand ambitions he harbors—I can't even guess. We can only trust and follow."
Arwen spoke with pride brimming on her face.
But it was fleeting; soon, a somber shadow crossed her features.
"If not for His Highness, how many more would have perished in vain? Even knowing, we couldn't prevent all these deaths. How many more must he have foreseen?"
She took in the sight of the elderly corpses not yet tended to.
After a long moment mourning the futilely departed, the knights reported the battlefield cleared.
"Thank you. Truly, thank you."
The women who had escaped the calamity expressed their gratitude with steadfast voices amid their grief.
"No thanks to me. I merely followed His Highness the Crown Prince's orders."
Without taking any credit, she attributed it all to the royal family and mounted her horse.
"Battlegroup, move out."
"Battlegroup, move out!"
The knights echoed her command, and the subjugation force set off once more.
Whenever they spotted someone in need on the road, they turned toward them; whenever monsters appeared, they eradicated them on sight.
And all the merit went to the Crown Prince.
Similar events unfolded across the kingdom.
Subjugation forces led by the Silver Lions patrolled their regions, quelling monster uprisings early. Thanks to them, what could have spread into nationwide chaos was swiftly contained.
It was only natural that the people praised the royal family for detecting signs no one else noticed and dispatching precious knights like the Silver Lions to safeguard the populace.
Yet Lionel Leonberger, the head of the royal family, was far from at ease.
Of course, the people's safety and growing acclaim for the royals were joys befitting a monarch.
"When did the uproar in Branburt County settle, and why hasn't that eldest son of ours returned?!"
The problem was the royal heir who had left and showed no sign of coming back.
"W-well, Your Highness the Crown Prince has established a base at the central fortress."
The king jumped at Marquis Billefeld's words.
"A base?!"
"He's directing the subjugation operations across the kingdom from there..."
The marquis, gauging the king's mood, relayed reports from the Silver Lions: the Crown Prince's timely advice and commands had averted multiple disasters.
The king let out a hollow laugh.
He had permitted the excursion to build public trust and cultivate princely virtues, yet here he was, doing the same as on the battlefield.
He wanted to drag the troublesome prince back immediately, but there was no pretext.
Piles of reports from Silver Lions and lords extolled the Crown Prince's wisdom, just as the marquis said.
"It's all my failing. He never took to the palace as a child, always wandering outside. Now at this age, he roams beyond the walls. Whom can I blame now?"
The king sighed helplessly.
As his sighs mounted over the absent son, one day a messenger from the Crown Prince sought the king.
"His Highness has sent a letter to Your Majesty."
The messenger handed over a meticulously sealed missive.
The king tore it open without hesitation and read.
Scanning it, he burst into boisterous laughter.
"What did His Highness write?"
Marquis Billefeld, having heard the news, asked.
The king silently passed the letter to the old marquis.
Reading it, the marquis chuckled dryly, just like the king.
"Full of uncharacteristic flowery words, but it boils down to not returning until everything's done. Did I misread it?"
"I read it the same."
The king sighed again at the marquis's reply.
Pitying him, the marquis offered careful comfort.
"But as the letter says, he'll avoid frontline combat as much as possible. That's a relief on our biggest worry."
"Do you believe that boy?"
At the king's question, the marquis averted his gaze.
It was true enough, but the Crown Prince—tucked away in the fortress now—could grab a sword and charge into battle any moment.
The king knew it, the marquis knew it, everyone did.
"Still, one could argue His Highness isn't defying Your Majesty's wishes outright."
The hesitant marquis tried consoling again.
"Swiftly eliminating those horrors will stabilize the populace quickly, and praises for His Highness's virtue and foresight are spreading nationwide. Isn't that what Your Majesty desired?"
The king had no retort.
The marquis wasn't wrong.
He hadn't faced the people directly to soothe their pain, but eradicating the threats ensured their peace—that was clear.
It proved the virtues of a crown prince, even if vastly different from what the king envisioned.
In any case, the kingdom's chaos settled swiftly thanks to the Crown Prince.
Not every nation on the continent fared as well as Leonberger Kingdom in quelling the unrest early.
On the contrary, most saw situations worsen over time, failing to contain the disorder.
The Empire was no exception.
The south lay in ruins from the Fire Dragon, the east suffered repeated defeats against Dotrin Kingdom's assaults, the northeast was engulfed in lords' rebellions, and the west had long fallen to the traitorous 5th Prince's forces.
In such turmoil, the Empire couldn't properly counter the monstrous outbreaks everywhere.
Lords cried for aid from all sides.
The 3rd Prince, conscripting troops everywhere to gain edge over the 5th Prince, couldn't ignore their pleas outright.
Of course, the ruthlessly selfish 3rd Prince, caring for naught but himself, hadn't listened from the start.
"Your Highness, heed their pleas."
"Why should I?"
He blamed the lords for failing to control their domains, never considering his requisitions of their elite troops caused it.
"Report to His Imperial Majesty and deploy the imperial elite to extinguish these fires of chaos."
"If I had spare forces, I'd use them to crush those insolent rebels first."
His aides persistently persuaded him.
"Think differently. If they fall, the territory Your Highness will rule after ascending the throne shrinks."
"They've got hidden troops. It won't come to that."
"Even if they overcome, they'll be weakened—meaning less taxes and tribute for the imperial house later."
Only then did the greedy 3rd Prince start listening seriously.
After prolonged convincing, he gave the desired answer.
"Fine. This time, I'll personally inspect their plights. I'll visit His Majesty and secure permission for imperial legions to deploy, bringing back a plan to restore order."
He boasted grandly.
But on the day to meet the Emperor, he hesitated and schemed to back out.
Recently, facing the Emperor alone filled him with dread.
Indeed, as he entered the Emperor's residence, fear flickered in his eyes.
It had been so before, but now it was worse.
He couldn't pinpoint when it started.
One day, he simply realized the Emperor stared at him with chillingly cold eyes.
At first, he thought it was resentment over his unauthorized armistice, ceding vital imperial fortresses and lands to Leonberger Kingdom.
But time revealed otherwise.
The Emperor's icy gaze resembled a snake eyeing a plump frog.
"Could that traitor be right? Has His Majesty committed some taboo?"
Recalling those inhuman eyes, he wondered if the traitor's ravings held truth.
"In the end, I'm the only one left to inherit the throne. What have I to fear?"
He steeled himself, consoled by being the sole imperial direct heir.
Gathering courage before the Emperor, the 3rd Prince recounted the Empire's plight as his aides had coached.
"Impossible."
The Emperor refused flatly, without hearing him out.
Even the indifferent 3rd Prince grasped the severity from aides' briefings.
Failed campaigns, rebellions, Fire Dragon rampages—none trivial, all crises.
Yet the Emperor, supposedly surveying from on high, acted as if blind to them.
The 3rd Prince frowned suddenly.
Reflecting now, every imperial decision had been a blunder.
Ordering two failed Dotrin invasions, pushing overextended fronts to attack Leonberger—all the Emperor's doing.
Not deliberately sabotaging the Empire, perhaps the Emperor wasn't the genius all assumed.
Predictions aides had drilled into him over days felt innately his own; he grew bold.
For the first time, he felt not fear, but something else toward the Emperor.
Parricide. Ambition.
Lifting his head with a twisted smirk, he met the Emperor's eyes.
At the sight of those clear pupils, his dark ambitions vanished.
He merely trembled.
The Emperor gazed silently, then flicked his hand dismissively.
The 3rd Prince fled without proper farewell.
The Emperor eyed the spot the prince had occupied from his throne.
After a long pause, he spoke.
"Even the mighty blood of Burgundy has faded pathetically before a millennium."
An odd remark for kin—dry, emotionless, appraising a stranger.
The Emperor's face suddenly contorted, roiling with emotions unlike before.
"Grrrh."
A beastly groan escaped.
He raised a hand.
Hideous veins bulged on the back, the bluish hand trembling toward his head.
Fingernails scraped madly at the resplendent golden crown.
Gold alone would have scratched, but the ancient crown, sharing history with Burgundy imperial line, remained unscathed.
Yet he kept clawing.
After an incomprehensible bout, he stopped.
Lowering his hand, he examined his fingertips.
The bulging veins and tremors had normalized.
Only the cracked, splintered nails marred the usual.
"Tch. Just endure a bit longer; I'll release you soon enough."
The Emperor clicked his tongue softly and rose.
As if nothing had happened.