Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Once My Thinking Changed, What I Saw Changed Too (2)
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Bail Ballerhard Count's declaration as the 1st Prince's guardian wasn't particularly unusual in private. As uncle and nephew, it was only natural for the Count to step up for his own kin.
Yet despite that, the ripple effects of this natural decision were far from minor.
In the past, the Count had harshly criticized his nephew's talents and qualities as those of a "tyrant," withdrawing all support. As a result, the Prince rapidly lost his base of support and ended up utterly isolated.
Rumors even spread publicly that the King himself had disowned his eldest son. Still, the Count never intervened.
People praised his lofty declaration of prioritizing the kingdom and royal family's well-being over blood ties.
But now, that same Count had set aside his principles and reversed his decision. And this, at a time when the King had all but stripped the Prince of his right of succession.
Was it a late-blooming thirst for power in his old age? Or had familial bonds suddenly surged within him anew?
The King had already cast aside his firstborn. The 1st Prince's position was so precarious that he had to worry about imprisonment, let alone succession rights.
The nobles couldn't fathom why the Count had suddenly gone back on his word.
They merely calculated and recalculated the impact his actions would have on the kingdom.
In private, Bail Ballerhard Count was one of only five Quad Chain Knights in the kingdom. Publicly, he was a great lord overseeing the northern frontier, commanding 2,000 elite troops year-round to fend off monsters crossing the mountains.
Considering that most Count houses commanded fewer than 500 soldiers on average, the Ballerhard family's forces were formidable. Especially since those soldiers were battle-hardened elites tempered fighting mountain monsters.
Moreover, the Ballerhard family commanded the elite Black Spear Cavalry, a knight order of renown. With fewer than ten families in the kingdom maintaining their own knight orders, their prestige was even more impressive.
With such a mighty house backing him, it was only natural that the Prince's fallen status would soar overnight.
Of course, that didn't make the 1st Prince the frontrunner for the throne in one fell swoop.
While he had wasted away his time, the other Princes had steadily built their positions and gathered support. By now, even the mighty Ballerhards couldn't easily challenge the power they had amassed.
Closing that gap would be no easy task for the 1st Prince.
All he had to boast was legitimacy, but even that had lost its meaning after falling out of the King's favor. What remained was only infamy and scandals piled sky-high.
"Remember the humiliations suffered by those nobles who once stood under the 1st Prince's banner."
No noble would entrust their house's future to the 1st Prince.
Given the situation, the area around the 1st Prince remained surprisingly quiet compared to the rumors' weight. At least on the surface.
Bustling. So damn bustling.
The newly assigned Royal Knights and soldiers making a racket outside,
The new maids and servants sent from the palace interior scurrying about everywhere,
The subtle surveillance from those freshly placed in my quarters,
All of it was a chaotic mess.
"Send them all back!"
Unable to take it anymore, I snapped irritably, and Kals gave a troubled look.
"They're here by royal order. They won't leave just because you tell them to."
"Then at least get them out of sight."
Only after hearing that did Kals step in, shoving the new guards to the palace outskirts. A veteran maid rounded up the palace-sent servants and tucked them away out of view.
Finally, I was free from those prying eyes that had followed me everywhere.
"Much better."
I thought I could finally relax, but then the 3rd Prince showed up out of nowhere.
"What do you want now?"
Irritated at the unannounced visitor, I asked, and the 3rd Prince narrowed his eyes.
"You've been quite secretive."
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
"Hiding that you're learning the sword from Count Ballerhard? You nearly fooled me."
"Who said I'm learning anything from anyone?"
I shot back at the 3rd Prince spouting nonsense out of the blue, but he just kept saying what he wanted.
"Lulling me into complacency to surprise me later? Or did you think that would let you beat me?"
From what I gathered, he thought I'd secretly learned some ultimate technique from my uncle to defeat him.
"Fine, whatever. Thanks to you, the picture looks even more convincing. I'm grateful, really."
"Good. Now that you know, get the hell out."
"But deceiving me when I approached in good faith wasn't a smart move. I genuinely meant to save you some face."
"Oh, how touching. I'm moved to tears."
Sarcasm dripped from my words at his undeserved self-praise, and the 3rd Prince's face hardened.
"You've made a grave mistake, brother."
His eyes brimmed with venom, revealing the black heart of this kid.
"I'll make you pay dearly for deceiving me. When that time comes, you won't save even a shred of face."
I leaned back slowly in my chair, meeting his malice-filled gaze.
"And?"
My relaxed demeanor only fueled his temper.
"You still don't grasp the situation."
He glared at me.
"I'll craft a nightmare you'll chew over for the rest of your life."
Done even with fake brotherly courtesy, his words flowed freely.
"Just keep living like you were. Whoring around, drowning in booze. Why get greedy now?"
"That all you have to say?"
No point listening further. I pointed to the door.
"If you're done, leave. Stop bothering me."
"I was just about to."
Regaining his composure in an instant, he resumed his facade.
"Enjoy the upcoming banquet."
Who knows if you'll get another chance after some unavoidable accident, he sneered.
After a few more pointless words, he rose. As he turned to leave without a farewell, he froze.
My uncle stood at the door, watching us, though I hadn't noticed his arrival.
He gave a curt nod.
The 3rd Prince brushed past my uncle and exited my room.
Clunk.
The door shut, and my uncle strode over.
"Why let him go?"
His expression asked why I held back when I could've crushed him now.
"I'm not idiot enough to get heated over an ignorant brat."
I shrugged.
"Besides, breaking my momentum too early would just let the steam fizzle out, wouldn't it?"
Word was, the 3rd Prince was making quite the spectacle. No doubt plenty of spectators would show on the appointed day.
The price for his pathetic threats could wait until then.
I chuckled to myself, and my uncle shook his head.
"What a nasty temperament."
"Says the one who knows how much chaos you've caused me."
The sudden influx to the 1st Prince's Palace, the 3rd Prince's visit—all stemmed from my uncle's declaration.
It'd be weirder if I stayed polite.
"Tch."
My uncle clicked his tongue.
The fate of an eldest son denied succession was grim; legitimacy only vanished with death, leaving no choice—every word rang true.
"Still, you could've at least timed it better."
"Until when? Until the other Princes finish preparing?"
What meaning would that have? Stop whining, he scolded.
But I had my own plans.
Having become human, I had zero intention of rotting away in this shoebox palace forever.
Grow my strength moderately, pay off my debts, and leave the palace—that was the idea.
Of course, plenty of practical hurdles remained. Worst case, I'd fake my death and slip away; I'd even planned that far.
But first, find the real body the King had hidden.
"Huddling in your quarters won't change a thing."
While lost in thought, my uncle kept lecturing.
None of it landed. His premises were fundamentally wrong.
"I'm not interested in the throne."
He thought I'd changed to reclaim what I'd lost. Wrong.
I'd never lost anything. It wasn't mine to begin with.
How could I lose or reclaim what was never mine?
If anything needed reclaiming, it was the divine authority and power I'd reached transcendence with—not some hollow succession right.
"I'll play along for a while, so pull back moderately."
Succession struggles weren't like dipping toes in a stream, but I had to say it.
"Why not consult me before stirring things up?"
He seemed a tad attached, judging by his sour mood.
"Worried about the Ballerhards?"
Expecting anger or dismay, I was surprised when my uncle just laughed.
"As long as the royals and nobles remember winter's harshness, no one can touch the Ballerhards."
The shield guarding the kingdom from northern mountain monsters—no one could replace them, he declared.
His overflowing confidence impressed me a bit. Without those hollowed eyes from demonic influence, he'd look quite dashing.
"But remember this: an eldest son's legitimacy doesn't vanish unless he dies."
With that warning—or plea—he rose.
"If you need time to accept it, take as long as you want. I won't force anything until you're ready."
Adding that, he left.
"No, it won't change no matter how much time you give..."
No amount of time would make me change my mind as he hoped. So I firmly believed.
At least until just before the banquet began.
"Southern Parinel Territory's Artuen Parinel Viscount and Viscountess Parinel enter!"
With booming announcements, the doors opened, and nobles filed into the banquet hall one by one.
Ignoring the lavish spreads prepared with care, they sought out familiar houses from their circles. Groups formed instantly across the vast hall.
Trivial greetings exchanged, idle chatter flowed. Just like any other banquet.
Taylor Tailheim scanned the room tensely alongside his father. So far, only lower nobles like barons and viscounts had entered.
Yet hierarchies were clear even among them; obscure frontier houses like the Tailheims unwittingly got pushed to the corners.
"Baron Rockwell? Fancy meeting a baron here!"
"Baron Tailheim, what brings you? You've been scarce lately."
Small mercy: plenty of familiar faces among the sidelined country nobles.
"Heh. Royal banquets are on another level, eh?"
"Hate to say it, but it shrinks you a bit."
Tailheim Baron eyed the clusters of capital nobles in the distance.
"Well, we've got nothing to bow to. Not many got personal invites from His Highness the Prince like us."
"Who gets an invitation stamped with the royal seal every day?"
A few nobles approached at that, making friendly overtures. They too had received direct invites from the 1st Prince, expressing delight.
Barons Rockwell and Tailheim sized them up.
"No way?"
"Indeed. My son met His Highness the 1st Prince recently."
"My second son as well..."
All had past bad blood with the 1st Prince but had dramatically severed ties lately. They bonded quickly over shared experiences, chatting animatedly.
"So this fool of mine says..."
Tension forgotten, their boisterous talk drew frowns from some nobles.
"Uncouth louts calling themselves nobles. Tch."
"Great lords arriving soon, and they're making a racket."
Too loud for mutters; the country nobles flushed.
"Ahem. Better save the stories for later."
"With the great lords coming, yes."
Soon after, great lords led by counts entered the hall.
"Eastern Graem Territory's Verok Graem Count and his second daughter Anne enter!"
"Western Ronen Territory's Polt Ronen Count and..."
Lower nobles who'd arrived early flocked to their patron great lords, paying respects.
Country nobles just watched warily from the corners.
No acquaintances among the great lords, none approaching first—they merely admired the lords' grandeur from afar.
"Southern Mendelheim Territory's Trindel Mendelheim Marquis and his eldest son Classman enter!"
Even the pinnacle of kingdom nobility—marquises and dukes—entered.
Soon, a herald bellowed.
"The rightful sovereign of Leonberg Kingdom, the most noble Lionel Leonberger His Majesty the King, his legitimate bloodline, eldest son of the Leonberger royal family—His Highness Idrian Leonberger 1st Prince enters!"
At that moment, nobles uniformly turned toward the entrance.
Creeeak.
The doors opened.
And beyond them, the infamous 1st Prince made his appearance.