Chapter 74
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 74
Dawn.
The Crown Prince, Ferdinand, thrust his sword into the ground and took several deep breaths.
Common sense dictated that a sword shouldn't be able to pierce the stone floor of a training ground, but this was a place where the impossible was common sense.
It was a special training ground gifted by the Mage Tower to the late Empress Olivia immediately after she gave birth to Ferdinand. No matter how much damage was inflicted upon it, the ground would restore itself within a single day as long as a massive amount of divine power was present nearby.
The Temple had personally blessed it, calling it a magnificent invention of the Mage Tower, but in truth, the current Emperor, Alexander, loathed this place. This training ground was living proof of the irrationally vast divine power flowing through Ferdinand’s veins.
Naturally, a training ground the Emperor hated was never properly maintained, even if the Crown Prince frequented it daily to sweat through his drills.
“Your Highness.”
A presence made itself known in the desolate training ground, a place thick with shadows and overgrown weeds. Ferdinand exhaled a long breath and turned around.
“Master.”
Schuls Schmidt, the Crown Prince’s Pneuma, was walking toward him.
A cold gaze. A tidy appearance.
Schuls Schmidt, the Crown Prince’s Pneuma, was said to be a genius the likes of which appeared only once a century across all existing fields of study. However, his eyes were inherently dry. He gave the impression of a quintessential scholar—as if he were a man sculpted from sand made of ground gold, showing absolutely no interest in anything outside of academia.
Yet, thanks to his handsome features, he was a genius Pneuma who often caught the eyes of many noble young ladies, countesses, and even maidservants.
In Schuls Schmidt’s arms was a thick stack of books. No, he corrected himself. It was a thick stack of exam papers.
“You scored nearly perfect on the exams you took yesterday. Except for Ancient Language.”
“Master.”
“Therefore, I’m thinking of increasing the weight of Ancient Language by about twenty percent today. Does your schedule allow for it?”
“Master.”
“Well, there is a saying that one can sleep when they are dead. It’s fine. I believe you can manage. You won’t fail, will you?”
“……I suppose I must do it.”
If only to avoid being compared to that 'first disciple.'
Shortly after arriving at the Imperial Palace, Schuls Schmidt had told Ferdinand:
“Your Highness.”
His blue eyes shone with earnestness behind his monocle.
“You shall be the second and final disciple of Schuls Schmidt.”
“Who was the first?”
“I will tell you that later. That person has a personality that enjoys quietude, contrary to their appearance.”
“Contrary to their appearance?”
“Yes.”
A noble, then, Ferdinand thought. And a domestic one at that.
He didn't ask anything else. In truth, he wasn't curious. Ferdinand had lived a life where he didn't have much room for curiosity.
“Your mother died because of you. Remember that until the day you die, Crown Prince.”
He lived a life where he couldn't afford to be curious.
However, after becoming Schuls Schmidt’s disciple, Ferdinand found it impossible not to wonder who on earth that 'first disciple' was. Just what kind of monster were they? To think they had solved all the incredibly difficult Ancient Language and academic problems Schuls Schmidt brought without a single word of complaint. Had he truly taken a monster as a disciple?
The sheer volume of study Schuls Schmidt demanded of the Crown Prince was beyond imagination—enough to make one look at him with unintentional resentment. If Ferdinand hadn't known Schuls Schmidt’s character, he might have suspected the man was an assassin sent by Empress Carmi to work him to death.
“You will be leaving the Imperial Palace within the next six months, will you not?”
“…….”
“It will be difficult for me to assist you then, and by the time you return, you will be of age. You must sufficiently complete your academic studies now.”
He wasn't wrong.
“It will be a bit difficult, but it is possible for my disciple.”
“Because your first disciple managed it?”
“Yes. Your Highness, as my second and final disciple, you will surely be able to do the same.”
“……I see.”
That damn first disciple.
Ferdinand was now truly, sincerely curious about Schuls Schmidt’s first disciple. Just what kind of monster was this mysterious figure, the only one among countless students to be recognized as a 'disciple'?
But his rising dissatisfaction and curiosity were short-lived.
“Spring is coming soon.”
It was now the tail end of winter.
Ferdinand came here to swing his sword every single day of the year, even when he was in such agony from his divine power and the poison that he didn't know what to do with himself. Thus, he had a rough idea of when the pink flowers would bloom in this weed-choked training ground.
The reason pink flowers bloomed here in such abundance was simple. His late mother, the former Empress Olivia, had loved pink flowers. Since the Mage Tower had presented this as a gift to her son, they had planted pink flowers as well.
Empress Olivia had passed away during her favorite season. Consequently, Emperor Alexander hated spring more than any other time of year. Spring was also the season when Ferdinand was struck across the face the most for no reason at all.
Though the frequency had decreased significantly since Schuls Schmidt arrived as his Pneuma. Perhaps it was partly due to Schuls Schmidt’s ruthlessness in making him study all day. Even abuse requires time, but Ferdinand was kept by Schuls Schmidt’s side all day, studying Ancient Language, reading academic journals, and researching monarchical theory.
He fell asleep at dawn and woke at dawn every day, but it was a thousand times better than being exposed to senseless abuse.
Thud.
Looking at the exam papers handed to him, it seemed he would have to study until dawn again today just to finish.
“You always study without much complaint.”
“If I complained, would you reduce the workload?”
“Of course not. My first disciple always followed this teacher’s curriculum without complaint.”
The man even wore a faint smile as he spoke. That cold man.
Just as Ferdinand was feeling utterly exasperated by this first disciple whose face, name, and identity he didn't even know, he heard someone approaching.
“Your Highness.”
Ferdinand’s red eyes turned toward the sound.
“His Majesty the Emperor summons you. Please come this way.”
Though they said the Emperor had called for him, it was the Empress’s servants who had come. They treated the Crown Prince with more courtesy when Schuls Schmidt was present. They had never been able to openly ignore Ferdinand, but they became noticeably more polite.
Normally, even if the Crown Prince’s arms were full, they would have bowed their heads with feigned respect without a second glance. Now, however, they politely extended their hands as they would for any other member of the imperial family.
But Ferdinand didn't give their hands a single glance as he began to walk.
Following the servants, who hurried after him in a fluster, Schuls Schmidt also moved. Because of his reputation as a genius, he was highly esteemed even among the nobles visiting the palace, so the servants couldn't actively stop him. Besides, the Emperor who summoned Ferdinand hadn't explicitly ordered him to come alone.
“You’ve come, Crown Prince.”
Emperor Alexander, who had barely acknowledged Ferdinand’s greeting, smiled warmly when he saw Schuls Schmidt following behind.
“Pneuma Schuls Schmidt has come as well.”
It was a bitter sight—as if the son and the stranger had been swapped—but Schuls Schmidt remained as expressionless as ever. He offered a proper greeting and straightened his back.
“Crown Prince.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Some time ago, you said you wanted a mountain in the Louromans region.”
“That is correct.”
It was a request he had made years ago.
By right, an Emperor should bestow a gift upon a prince on his birthday. However, Emperor Alexander had never given Ferdinand a gift. Indeed, the Emperor had never once celebrated the Crown Prince’s birthday.
It was an open secret that Crown Prince Ferdinand was treated poorly. Thus, his birthday banquets were always mere formalities, barely keeping up appearances. Even the gifts from the nobles were of poor quality. It had always been that way.
But three years ago, for some reason, the Emperor had been in an exceptionally good mood and asked Ferdinand on his birthday if there was anything he wanted. It wasn't asked out of a desire to celebrate his son’s birth, but rather with the level of affection one might show a dog on a leash by tossing it a bone.
However, Ferdinand had already experienced too much coldness to feel sorrow over such a thing. So, he had calmly requested a mountain in Louromans, something he had been busy plotting to acquire until then.
“Why that mountain of all places? There are no mines, and it’s a worthless mountain in the middle of nowhere.”
“Do not all members of the imperial family receive a mountain upon birth as a prayer for the blessing of the earth? That is my reason.”
“To choose such a pathetic thing. Tsk, tsk. Very well.”
Even after saying that, the Emperor had not given him the mountain. It was as if it had been nothing more than a whim brought on by a moment’s intoxication.
Ferdinand hadn't expected anything either; he had simply continued his own efforts to acquire a mountain in the Louromans region behind the scenes.
“That land is a worthless mountain, but it turns out it belongs to the Frezier territory.”
Emperor Alexander, who Ferdinand thought had forgotten, suddenly brought the mountain up again and clicked his tongue.