The First Prince's Inquiry
The First Prince would normally have descended slowly for safety before releasing his Float, but right now he had no time to worry about such things. After all, he had just committed the grave crime of disrespecting royalty—specifically, the man closest to becoming the next king.
He dropped at the maximum speed possible with Float, and when he was about two meters above the ground, he simply released the spell.
Maybe it was because he was so flustered. He ended up landing on his injured right leg.
‘Ugh! Aaaaargh!’
Whoa, I barely held it in.
The moment I came down from the air, I almost screamed right in the First Prince’s face.
…I should chug a potion the second I get back.
“Are you alright? You don’t look so good.”
I had managed to hold back the scream, but apparently I couldn’t control my expression.
…Well, what could I do?
It felt like someone was twisting a crank on my right thigh. How do I know what that feels like? Well… I went to an all-boys middle and high school, you see?
When a bunch of pubescent idiots get together, they do stupid shit. Slaves to their hormones, every last one of them. And of course, trying it out for themselves is basically the national rule for guys.
Anyway, that wasn’t the urgent issue right now.
“I’m sorry!!!”
Thud!
I immediately dropped into a full dogeza. Fuck my pride—who cares if it feeds me?
At the end of the day, I’d screwed up in front of the guy who literally feeds me. I was ready to bow a hundred, a thousand times if that’s what it took. My self-respect wasn’t so fragile it would break over something like this!
If I’d lived my life worrying about what other people thought, I never would’ve earned the title of “Sternfeld’s Madman” in the first place.
Clang. Clomp, clomp.
I heard the sound of someone dismounting and walking toward me.
From the heavy footsteps, it was probably someone in full plate armor…
Was it a knight? Did he think I’d insulted his lord and was coming to stab me?
Given the medieval knight mindset I’d seen so far, it was entirely possible…?
Clomp, clomp.
The footsteps finally stopped right in front of me.
Ugh… I really didn’t want to die like this.
Screw it, I don’t care anymore. The reason I dropped to my knees was for maximum propulsion—
Grab!Whoosh!
“W-whoa?!”
A hand suddenly slipped under my armpit and forcibly hauled me to my feet.
When I looked up, the one who had lifted me wasn’t anyone else—it was the First Prince himself.
“Hahaha, be careful there. You suddenly threw yourself to the ground—your body must really be in bad shape. Here, would you like to drink this?”
Pop!
The First Prince rummaged through his coat, uncorked a potion bottle, and handed it to me.
I was so flustered I couldn’t even offer a polite refusal and just took it.
“Th-thank you…?”
…Well, I’d already accepted it. No point refusing now. I drank it on the spot.
Gulp, gulp!
Vitality surged through my body instantly, and the pain in my leg faded just as fast. So this is what a high-grade potion feels like. No wonder princes use them.
Clap, clap!
“There we go. Now that you’ve had a potion, you should be feeling better. How about we have a little chat while the effects are still fresh?”
Pffffft!
Damn it, what a waste. That was expensive stuff, and I’d spat it out in shock.
At least I’d managed to turn my head in time so I didn’t spray it all over the First Prince.
…Why did it feel like every time I met the First Prince, I only ever showed him my clumsy side?
But seriously, how was I supposed to stay calm when the next king suddenly singled me out for a chat? Especially right after I’d committed such a huge breach of etiquette. Who knew what he was about to say?
“Hoho, my my. This friend of ours seems rather frail. Shall I give you another potion?”
“N-no, I’m fine.”
This was getting burdensome. Could he please just go away?
“It’s nothing else—I saw that mage unit of yours earlier. I found it quite fascinating. How exactly did you do that?”
I wish he’d use proper subjects in his sentences… Hmm, I think I know what he means.
“Are you perhaps referring to the Altar Cannon?”
“Hm? That thing that was firing fireballs like crazy earlier—is that what it’s called?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Looks like he’d guessed right.
The First Prince seemed to ponder my words for a moment before continuing.
“Can knights use that as well?”
I shook my head.
“Unfortunately, it would be difficult for knights to use. Its structure is quite different from ordinary artifacts.”
A normal artifact would activate with a trigger word or by channeling specific mana, making it usable by anyone. But the Altar Cannon I created was built on the premise that the user was a mage capable of casting 3-Circle Fire Ball. That was precisely why I could make them so cheaply.
If I tried to create an artifact with the same performance that anyone could use, how much more would it cost?
‘If you combine the magic stone swapping mechanism with a simple activation word instead of a pure 3-Circle attack spell artifact, it would probably cost as much as a 5-Circle artifact—maybe even a 6-Circle one?’
“What a shame. If we could supply that kind of firepower to the knights, things would be much easier.”
The First Prince didn’t seem particularly attached to the idea. He’d simply asked out of curiosity.
Good. I guess I can leave now? Business concluded, right?
“Still, the strategy you showed us today was excellent. When I first heard it, I thought it was far too reckless.”
Apparently not. Damn.
“Not at all. We were blessed with a lot of luck, but the decisive factor was ultimately the bravery of Your Highness’s troops. I could never have succeeded alone.”
“Hahaha! It is true that my army is brave! From the lowliest soldier to the knights, they all trust and follow me. They are warriors who have never known defeat, and I am endlessly grateful for them.”
His booming laughter and proud words fully revealed his joy.
That was how much pride he took in his army.
“However, many were killed or wounded in this operation. I intend to give the injured and the families of the dead the greatest compensation I can offer, but I’m not sure that will be enough to repay their devotion.”
Unlike his usual bold demeanor, his expression was now somber.
“It is an honor simply to serve Your Highness!”
“Glory to the First Prince!”
“Chuuuuung!”
As soon as the First Prince grew gloomy, various forms of awkward consolation began. In a way, it almost sounded like a competition of loyalty.
‘This is a truly rare and ideal relationship between lord and vassal.’
Clap!
The moment the First Prince raised his hand, the noisy surroundings fell silent in an instant.
“I understand all of your hearts. Let us leave it at that.”
With a single gesture, the entire knight order obeyed. The sight left a powerful impression on me.
…Even though my father was the commander of the Southern Knight Order and a Sword Master, he couldn’t control his knights with such perfect unity from a single hand signal.
Of course they would follow predetermined hand signals during operations.
But this was different. It was as if they could read his heart from his gestures even without words. That kind of instinctive understanding was impossible unless there was true harmony between them.
A righteous sense of justice paired with firm resolve, while still cherishing his subordinates. He truly was the model of an ideal knight.
No wonder so many people followed him. The First Prince’s charisma was undeniable.
“Sir Alvaro Sternfeld. Do you happen to know how the situation up above was resolved?”
I shook my head.
“I do not. We had scouts in place originally, but I pulled them all back when we engaged the enemy knights.”
“I see. I had suspected they possessed some form of observation method, since they were striking our forces with such precision. It would have been good to see the end. In any case, allow me to explain.”
“Please do.”
The First Prince nodded and continued.
“The enemy fled to the east. More precisely, the southeast—but they will ultimately head east.”
As he spoke, the First Prince turned his own head eastward.
It seemed like an unconscious action born from thinking about the enemy.
“Seeing that even the Eastern Knight Order has joined them, it appears all the great nobles of the east are already in league with our foes. This war is destined to become a prolonged conflict.”
His expression darkened as he spoke.
A prolonged war… but if that happened, the forces supporting the First Prince would also fully commit, greatly increasing our army’s scale.
The central nobility—his home territory—had many long-established prestigious families. Both knightly power and regular troops would be overwhelmingly superior.
The First Prince surely knew this, so why did he seem so reluctant?
Not understanding, I asked him directly.
“Why do you seem so averse to it?”
“If the civil war drags on, the people will suffer for that much longer. Moreover…”
This time, the First Prince looked up toward the mountain. He seemed to fall into rather deep thought.
…Why? There should only be allies left on the mountain by now?
“…It seems our side lacks a Sword Master, while the enemy has one.”
“…Why do you say that?”
We have my father, the commander of the Southern Knight Order, and Count Winterberg, the Northern Margrave.
“The Northern Margrave’s family has only ever belonged to the kingdom in name. Besides, their choice to protect the people in such a harsh land is understandable, so I don’t concern myself with them too much.”
Hmm. Wasn’t the First Prince being a bit too much of a softie here?
No matter what, a noble within the kingdom should still owe loyalty to the king regardless of justification. Yet he was willing to overlook it.
Well, if that was his reasoning, it also meant they probably wouldn’t side with the Second Prince either. So maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.
Then the biggest problem was why my father couldn’t come…
“The issue is that the Biraf Coalition Kingdom appears to be making a move.”
Biraf—the desert coalition kingdom to the south of our own, made up of independent city-states focused on trade.
They were moving?
…But how did the First Prince, who had been trapped in the castle until now, know about that?