Chapter 280
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 280
Chapter Title: 77. The Real Gift Was Something Else (4)
Even up until the moment they first arrived at the grand hall, Kals Yulihi had expected the Crown Prince to face unavoidable reprimand.
He had even thought it possible that, for the crime of leaving the palace in his injured state, he might be confined indefinitely.
But that wasn't the case.
Far from harshly scolding the Crown Prince who had slipped out of the palace without a word, the King simply gazed at him in silence.
The emotions in that gaze were so complex that Kals Yulihi couldn't easily read what the King was thinking.
"Have you finally found the mind to introduce your guest to me?"
As if completely oblivious to the mood, the Crown Prince was simply beaming innocently.
Utterly unaware of the strangely subdued atmosphere in the hall.
"Ian."
After a long silence, the King finally spoke.
His voice was as heavy and sunken as the air in the hall.
"Steel your resolve."
Before the Crown Prince could respond, the King gestured.
The waiting Royal Knights flung open the doors of the grand hall.
Kiiiek.
Beyond those wide-open doors stood a man with a cloak pulled tightly over his head.
Black fur draped over his shoulders, a thick cloak covering his entire body.
Glimpses of leather armor reinforced with metal plates here and there.
It was the typical attire of a Northern knight, common in the North.
The peculiarities were that his frame was exceptionally large even among Northern knights renowned for their sturdy builds, and one shoulder sagged where it should have been firm, leaving the cloak beneath it conspicuously empty.
Thud.
The massive knight, silently staring into the hall, took a step forward.
And then another.
Dragging one leg ever so slightly across the floor.
Up to that point, the Crown Prince didn't seem to think much of it.
"He looks a bit different from the guest I saw back then."
He merely voiced a small doubt that this hulking knight who had appeared out of nowhere was not the same guest he remembered.
Thud, thud.
Meanwhile, without pause, the giant knight continued advancing until he reached the Crown Prince.
"Hm?"
The Crown Prince, who had been smiling brightly all along, subtly furrowed his brow.
Then suddenly, his eyes widened.
"N-No way..."
Disbelief rose in his bulging eyes.
And at that moment.
Swoosh.
The giant knight removed the cloak he had pulled tightly over his head.
Snow-white hair faded with age. A forehead etched with deep wrinkles. Stubbornly pursed lips.
Upon seeing the knight's face, the Crown Prince shuddered as if beholding a ghost.
"H-How..."
The knight silently regarded the Crown Prince.
If those ragged, crudely sewn patches could even be called eyes.
"It's been a long time."
Then the knight spoke.
His pronunciation was as awkward and halting as his gait.
"Have you been well?"
The Crown Prince didn't answer.
He merely stared at the knight with a face drained pale white.
The knight's lips twitched.
But as if dissatisfied with something, he raised a hand to stroke his mouth, adjusting his expression several times.
After a long while, a faint line appeared on that ragtag, sewn-together face.
A smile that was neither a smile nor anything else—just grotesquely ugly.
The knight must have done his utmost to form even that ill-advised expression.
"I've missed you."
With that twisted face, the knight said.
"Ian."
Despite the clumsy speech, his voice brimmed with affection, and the Crown Prince began to tremble violently.
He looked as if he might collapse at any moment.
Normally, those present would have rushed to support him, but not a single one stepped forward.
They simply watched the Crown Prince with complicated expressions.
"...H-How did you end up like that."
After a long silence, the Crown Prince spoke.
In a voice squeezed out with effort.
"W-What happened to your face?"
His face shaken by grief and agitation.
"And where's your arm!"
It was less a question than a cry of anguish.
"I'm asking you now!"
And at the same time, a scream.
"Why won't you answer! Why no answer!"
The Crown Prince shouted again and again.
Until his breath caught in his throat.
"Where did that glorious figure go... Where did that majestic presence go... I'm asking why you've ended up like this."
Until his strength ebbed away completely.
"But you've come back alive like this, haven't you?"
"So isn't that enough?"
The knight twisted his lips.
Seeing that ragtag smile, the Crown Prince exploded.
"You call that an answer!"
"Why didn't you come sooner!"
"I couldn't."
"You could have at least sent word!"
"It wasn't the situation for that."
The knight spoke soothingly.
"It was a path someone else could reach in a single bound, but for me, it took seven years to finally arrive."
Gritting his teeth as he looked at the knight displaying his empty arm sleeve and crippled leg, the Crown Prince said nothing.
"Come here."
"No!"
The Crown Prince shook his head fiercely.
"How long will you keep getting angry?"
"I said no!"
But it was a refusal that somehow lacked conviction.
The knight extended his hand.
Aim subtly off-target.
Seeing it, the Crown Prince's face crumpled as if he might burst into tears at any second.
"W-What are you even looking at right now."
Then he stepped forward on his own, taking the knight's hand and placing it on his shoulder with both of his.
The knight pulled the Crown Prince into an embrace.
"That little squirt has grown this much while I was away."
"I don't want to hear it."
"But how did you get so thin?"
"Who are you to say who to whom...!"
"Enough with the anger."
"...I'm not angry."
The Crown Prince's voice noticeably softened.
"But why not even a single word of welcome?"
"...Welcome back."
And soon turned misty with emotion.
"Uncle."
The giant knight, Bail Ballerhard, simply smiled.
With a face twisted beyond recognition, brighter than ever.
"How on earth did you survive that mess?"
"I don't know the details myself. When I came to, I was in an elven fortress."
The elder and youth exchanged quiet words.
"Don't tell me those eyes were also..."
"Contrary to their looks, they turned out to be a nasty bunch."
"Those filthy things... I'd like to chew them up!"
"No need to get so worked up. If you think about it, if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have survived among the orcs. As far as a life debt goes, it wasn't a bad deal."
"You call that an answer! What a soft heart! Mine's burning with rage!"
For the most part, the Crown Prince was the one venting anger or asking questions, while Bail Ballerhard gently soothed and answered.
"When I first regained consciousness, I couldn't even twitch a finger. It took three years to stand and walk again, and another three to adapt to this body. After that, I waited for an opportunity, but escaping the fortress wasn't easy."
"I figured as much. Those damn fairies aren't the type to make it simple."
The Crown Prince clicked his tongue knowingly without even looking.
"Ordinary elves might be shaken off somehow, but what about those High Elves? Even if you manage that by some miracle, with eyes like those, where could you go?"
"That's exactly what I was curious about."
How had he escaped an elven fortress that was hard to flee even with a sound body? The Crown Prince pressed for details.
"The elves suddenly vanished."
"What do you..."
"The fortress grew chaotic out of nowhere, and the presence of my watchers just... stopped. I wasn't physically restrained, so I went out immediately to check, and found the place completely abandoned. From there, I left the fortress and just kept walking."
Bail Ballerhard recounted the events.
He had wandered from the empty fortress until he luckily encountered dwarves.
Guided by them, he reached Winter Castle, dispatched rangers to scout the elven fortress, but never learned the elves' whereabouts.
"I came straight to the capital after that. Whatever happened with the elves, when I heard your news..."
Mid-sentence, Bail Ballerhard fell silent.
He then listened to the breathing of his nephew, slumped against his arm.
"He's asleep."
Arwen Kirguyen, who had withdrawn, stepped forward to inform him the Crown Prince had dozed off and took the limp body.
At that moment, the supposedly sleeping Crown Prince mumbled sleepily.
"...Uncle. Don't go anywhere. Stay right there."
"I will."
"Promise."
The Crown Prince fell silent again.
Arwen Kirguyen bowed briefly, then carried him out of the hall.
"What will you do from now on?"
The King, watching their direction, suddenly asked as if it had just occurred to him.
"I intend to keep the promise I made seven years ago, even now."
Bail Ballerhard answered without hesitation.
"A promise..."
"In the past, as head of House Ballerhard, commander of the 3rd Legion, captain of the Black Spear Cavalry, and knight of four linked rings—I, Bail Ballerhard in all those roles, promised to support Your Highness."
"Yes. You did say that."
The King gazed at Bail Ballerhard with distant eyes for a moment.
The once proud silver lion was now half-crippled. Both eyes blind, left hand lost, leg lame and movement awkward.
"Though the seat of Ballerhard head, the rank of 3rd Legion commander, the position of cavalry captain—they are no longer mine."
Yet the old knight didn't look pitiable.
"I still have one hand left to grip a sword."
He seemed larger than anyone else present.
And it wasn't just an illusion.
"I dare say."
In truth, Bail Ballerhard was a giant.
"With the five rings in my heart and a single sword in my hand, I am confident there is no lack in serving Your Highness."
He was the first Penta Knight in Leonberger Kingdom history, after all.
Bail Ballerhard never left the Crown Prince's side after that.
"So anyway, I cut off one of the Warlord's arms. You should have seen him howling, Uncle."
"Indeed. What a shame. I wanted to see you take down the Warlord."
"Well, thinking back now, it wasn't that impressive. Just an orc in the end."
"I see. So the Warlord was just another orc after all."
Clinging to him, the Crown Prince chattered nonstop about everything he'd seen and experienced over the past seven years.
"Do you know what that mercenary band's name was?"
"Oh? And what was the name of that mercenary band?"
"Bail. Bail. I named it after you, Uncle. Thanks to me, your name's famous even in distant lands now. You should be grateful."
"Yes. I'm truly grateful."
There was no room for anyone else to interject.
"This is a statue I made of you, Uncle. No need for it now, but it was made with sincerity, so it's yours."
"I can't tell what it is just by touch."
"That's a pity. A one-of-a-kind masterpiece."
The elder and youth conversed as if alone all day.
"But that..."
"Speak your mind."
"D-Do your eyes... bother you?"
"It would be strange if they didn't."
"..."
"No need to feel so sorry. I lost my eyes but gained something greater."
"Something greater? What's that?"
"You'll learn in time."
While the two caught up on seven lost years without respite, time marched on relentlessly.
The kingdom's leadership was discussing plans with the visiting guest.
The Southern legions and knights deployed at the southern front hastened war preparations.
Amid the bustling palace inside and out, a small banquet was held at the Crown Prince's palace.
"Ugh, what even is this birthday nonsense."
It was the Crown Prince's birthday feast, who had wandered battlefields for seven years without even a coming-of-age ceremony.
Considering his injuries, only the bare minimum attended—a modest affair, and since all were kin and closest aides, the mood was warmly intimate, unlike typical royal events.
"Ah, I really don't need this."
The Crown Prince said embarrassedly, yet looked delighted throughout.
"Your Highness."
Then a Royal Knight knelt before him, presenting a small box.
"Your Highness. This arrived from the South."
"The South? What's this?"
"I only heard it's from the Southern fortress; I don't know the exact sender."
At those words, Kals Yulihi stepped forward to rebuke the knight for presenting an item of unknown origin so rashly to the Crown Prince.
"Ascertain the source first."
As the Royal Knight moved to withdraw the box, Arwen Kirguyen intervened and took it.
"Please accept it, Your Highness."
"You don't even know who sent it."
"It's a gift from Young Master Ilai."
"How do you know when there's no name?"
"You'll see when you open it."
With that confident tone, the Crown Prince chuckled, then eagerly opened the box with an expectant face.
From a distance, the King watched it all.
His eldest son, laughing and chatting all day amid his uncle and knights, looked happier than ever.
The King suddenly realized.
His hard-won independence in the hall, the grand victory—they paled in comparison.
The true treasure was something else.
The King's eyes narrowed softly. His stubbornly pursed lips curved gently.
"Good."
Laughter leaked through his teeth.
"Y-Your Majesty?"
The old marquis beside him widened his eyes in surprise.
Regardless, the King laughed on unheeding.
"Good! Excellent!"
It was the moment the King, crushed by burdens all his life, first learned to laugh freely, casting aside all worries.
The sun set, and the banquet finally ended.
Exhausted from laughing and talking all day, the Crown Prince fought sleep until he dozed off and was soon laid in bed by other knights.
Whether dreaming sweetly, his sleeping lips curved beautifully.
"Sweet dreams, Ian."
"Rest well."
Bail Ballerhard and the knights who lingered departed, and Adelia Bayern, at the bedside, stared blankly at the sleeping prince before nodding off herself.
Night passed, and dawn broke again.
"Mm."
Adelia Bayern slowly opened her eyes to the faint light filtering through the window.
"Yawn."
Rubbing her eyes after a small yawn, she rose.
An ordinary start to the day, like any other.
Except that the Crown Prince's posture was more disheveled than usual.
"Hee."
His body twisted, limbs dangling off the bed, mouth agape in a foolish sleep—so adorably.
"Your Highness, sleeping like this will make your limbs numb."
Adelia Bayern smiled softly, pushing his protruding arms and legs back onto the bed.
"Hm?"
As she placed a hand on his chest to adjust his position, she tilted her head.
Then her eyes widened.
"N-No way..."
She hastily pressed her hand to his chest.
In that brief instant, her expression shifted endlessly.
Disbelief, anticipation, shock.
The emotions culminating in,
"Your Highness!"
Joy.
"W-What! What's wrong!"
Startled by her cry, the Crown Prince jolted upright.
"What's going on!"
Adelia Bayern beamed at the sleep-dazed prince yelling blindly.
"Your Highness's Mana Heart!"
"My Mana Heart? What about it!"
"Your Highness's Mana Heart...!"
"So what about the Mana Heart..!"