How to Save a Prince (2)

Watching the heavily armored orcs get butchered right before my eyes, I couldn't help but furrow my brow.

Not here either?

Two fully armed orcs still weren't enough for him?

Ahh. Dammit.

If it's not here, then somewhere else—

I was still frowning, deep in thought, when Grandpa's voice rang out in my head.

This was the same Grandpa who had pinpointed the presence of monsters with uncanny accuracy when I fell into Agra's trap before. If he had detected something, it was guaranteed to be reliable intel.

'Where?! What's the location?!'

I drew a map in my head and triangulated the position based on his directions. Far to the south-southwest of here.

I knew exactly where that was.

The wall trap. The spot where the moment someone stepped on a certain point on the floor, a wall erupted to split the party clean in two.

So that was his plan—use it to cut me off from Arthur's group and spring his little trial.

Now that I had Luka's intentions figured out, all that remained was to get there. Fast.

'Everyone!—'

"Listen up, losers! I've found where the Pitiful Prince is crawling around on all fours!"

At my single remark, the eyes of every professor present turned toward me.

At first they'd been lukewarm about taking orders from a student, but that was then. Now, having watched my commands fall into place one after another, none of them dismissed me as a mere kid anymore—they were hanging on my every word.

'The location! Where is it?!'—

"The place where our weak, pathetic Pitiful Prince is waiting is..."

Not a single word passed between Arthur's party as they pressed through the dungeon.

Back when they'd first cleared the Academy dungeon together, the atmosphere had been warm and lively—but ever since Arthur's magic tool had activated and carried them ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠off into the wrong depths, only the sound of breathing passed between them now.

Occasionally Luka would speak up to lighten the mood, but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a few stray words were all that escaped before the sunk atmosphere sank right back down.

And through it all, Arthur was gnawing on his own mistake.

My misjudgment threw everyone into danger.

I'd been so blinded by the thought that I couldn't lose to Lucy Aln that I used an item handed to me by someone I couldn't trust—and caused a disaster.

How stupid could I be.

So hell-bent on getting back at the person who called me the Pitiful Prince that I pulled something utterly moronic.

Arthur remembered the monster they had faced in this dungeon. He couldn't forget the minotaur—billowing hot breath, swinging an axe taller than a grown man.

That was not an enemy the Arthur of now. Or Jackal. Or Matthew. Could hope to fight.

The crushing pressure radiating from that massive body had made the truth undeniable all on its own.

The only reason no one had died was that Professor Luka had drawn a knife from within his coat and subdued the minotaur himself.

Which was another way of saying: without Professor Luka, all three of them would have been slaughtered by the monster without ever landing a blow.

People had gathered to help me, and my own mistake nearly got them killed.

The shock of that realization was anything but small for Arthur.

Until now, he'd only ever read about people blinded by vengeance who made fools of themselves, and thought them idiots. And here stood that fool, in the flesh.

The one small mercy for Arthur was that Professor Luka had been beside him, which meant he still had a chance to set things right.

Befitting the man who had shaken the world with his genius and become the Academy's youngest professor, Luka's skill was the genuine article.

Watching him casually butcher a minotaur, it was clear this dungeon wasn't even a particularly dangerous place to him. Stay with him, and they could walk out of here safe and sound.

So—focus on what came after.

First, apologize to Jackal and Matthew. He'd already offered his words, but an apology in words alone was hollow; he owed them material compensation too.

After that, he would have to hold that professor accountable—the one who had handed him the compass. He needed to find out exactly what purpose had driven the man to press that object into his hands.

And of course, the man would have to be punished. Even if the Academy chose to go easy on him, Arthur would see to it that he was kicked out and made to face proper consequences. His guilt was an established fact.

And then. He would have to forgive Lucy Aln.

...

Either way, a duel was a duel.

By the time Arthur had conquered the sixth floor, Lucy Aln had already climbed past the twentieth. His defeat had been decided the moment the contest began.

Lucy Aln was an opponent Arthur could never beat, no matter how desperately he thrashed.

And so Arthur would have to acknowledge the person who had mocked him, again and again, as the Pitiful Prince—

Heh. That's a hard one.

Knowing I lost is one thing. Actually recognizing her is another entirely.

Was that because his own heart was simply too small?

Click.

While Arthur was lost in his brooding, something in the corridor clicked beneath a foot.

Hearing it, Arthur looked up—and found a shallow depression sunken into the stone directly beneath Luka's left boot.

"Oh dear."

The instant Luka uttered that quiet murmur, a wall of stone erupted between him and Arthur's party.

"No. Not like this—"

"Everyone! Step back, please!"

The moment a panicked Jackal lunged toward the wall, having realized he'd been cut off from Luka, Luka's voice rang out from the far side.

As Jackal pulled back from the wall, a tremendous boom thundered through the stone.

Luka was trying to smash his way through from the other side.

But the wall held firm. Boom after boom echoed from beyond it, yet not so much as a hairline crack appeared in the stone. At last, Luka seemed to give up—the thundering ceased.

"Everyone! Wait right there! I will come for you—I swear it!"

As his voice faded, the sound of sprinting footsteps receded beyond the wall.

Unable to break through, he was apparently circling around by another route to reach them.

And so the three freshmen were left alone—and the first to break the silence was Arthur.

"We have to move."

"I'm sorry—what?"

"Your Highness, what on earth are you saying?"

"Luka told us to wait. But we cannot stay put in a dead end like this."

"We might miss Professor Luka entirely if we wander off!"

Jackal shrieked it like a scream, but Arthur was unmoved.

It was true that moving on their own would make it harder to rendezvous with Luka. Arthur knew that perfectly well.

He'd said it anyway, because this place was a dead end.

"Jackal. The monsters in this place are far beyond anything we can fight. Now tell me—what happens if we run into one here, with no route of retreat left to us?"

There was no need to explain the outcome.

Annihilation.

The three of them would die.

Someone's sacrifice? A miracle?

Nothing of the sort existed here.

The three of them—young people with bright futures promised to them—would simply be killed by the monsters of this dungeon.

"But still..."

"Even if we miss Professor Luka, wouldn't the outcome be the same?"

At Matthew's quiet question—spoken in Jackal's place, who couldn't get the words out—Arthur gave a small nod.

"You're right, Matthew. My plan may be nothing more than a desperate scramble to buy us a few more minutes of life. But with no way of knowing when Professor Luka will reach this spot, I judge that securing an escape route nearby is our best option."

Arthur laid it out coldly and rationally, but neither of them looked convinced.

These were the two who had been dragged into this place by the magic tool he had activated. Trusting Arthur's judgment was not so easy for them.

So this is my karma coming back around. And this quickly.

How am I supposed to convince them?

Just as Arthur began wrestling with the question, footsteps echoed from somewhere down the corridor.

Heavy. Far too heavy to belong to a human.

They'd crossed paths with plenty of monsters on the way here. Guessing who those footsteps belonged to took no effort at all.

"Minotaur."

"No. No no no—!"

"Gods above."

Into the corridor with its escape route sealed off by the sudden wall emerged a hulking mass of muscle that seemed to scrape the ceiling of some ancient temple.

Too slow. I judged this too late.

Arthur drew the sword at his hip and stepped to the very front.

As a proper magic swordsman, Arthur's place was behind Jackal—not anymore. He had brought this danger on them with his own mistake; now Arthur belonged at the front line.

Even if it was a meaningless, doomed struggle. He had to try—to shoulder at least the smallest portion of responsibility.

"Buy time. The moment you see an opening, run."

I don't know if I can actually carve one out for you. But I'll give it everything I have.

He had just steeled himself to throw his life on the line and taken his stance against the minotaur—

"Hey there, slob♡ Is that even how a girl's supposed to look?♡ Ha♡ Drooling all over yourself and throwing yourself at a man—now that's perverted, even for you♡"

A voice insufferably out of place for a life-or-death crisis rang through the corridor—and the minotaur froze ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mid-stride.

Arthur saw her.

A girl whose hair was a windswept disaster, clearly from sprinting here with everything she had. And on her face—the very smirk he'd always thought he despised.

Ha. I really was staring, wasn't I.

Why does seeing that smile make me feel... relieved?

"Losers! Charge!"

'Grandpa! Thank you so, so much!'

That was way too close!

If Grandpa hadn't sensed it, I might have been rooting around in the wrong corner and arrived too late.

If that had happened... could I have actually saved them?

Watching the professors casually pin down the minotaur and check in on Arthur's group, a sigh of pure relief slipped out of me.

Thank goodness. Seriously, thank goodness.

If I'd been too late and couldn't save them... how long would I have been torturing myself over it, alone, this time?

Hah. Anyway—so all that's left now is clearing the dungeon, right?

That part's easy.

Look at the firepower we've got assembled here.

At this level, even if Agra tries another one of his dirty tricks, we can smash straight through it.

Alright. Let's clear this place by the shortest possible route and head home.

The dungeon wasn't that far from the Academy. We'd make it back before the evening sun set.

I was busy thinking exactly that when Arthur pushed his way through the crowd of professors and started walking toward me.

What? What is it?

Having wronged Arthur so many times, I was honestly a little scared of him approaching.

But I did just save his life. He wouldn't yell at me for that, right?

Right?

"Lucy Aln."

'Y-Yes?!'

"Speak. Pitiful Prince."

Even hearing "Pitiful Prince" only earned a slight twitch of Arthur's eyebrow—nothing more.

"First, my thanks. I heard it from the professors. You played a decisive role in our rescue. Had it not been for you, Jackal and Matthew would have been in grave danger because of my error."

Watching Arthur lower his head to me, I couldn't help but feel strange about the whole thing.

The day Arthur thanks me, of all people! I thought I'd live my whole life with that guy hating my guts!

"And I acknowledge my defeat in this contest. The talent you possess is real. You are arrogant—but you are someone who has earned the right to be."

I had absolutely no idea how to respond to Arthur speaking with such gravity.

Anything I tried to say was going to get filtered through the Mesugaki skill and spat back out as something bizarre.

Ugh. How do I answer without shattering this whole solemn moment?

- Ding.

Right as I was wracking my brain, I heard the chime of a message window popping up.

What now? Telling me I cleared the quest?

Hehehe. Useless Chief God.

At least you're good for something at times like this.

That's what I was thinking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as I opened the message.

I realized, with total sincerity, that I was completely and utterly screwed.

From the floor beneath Arthur, a magic circle bloomed into existence.

"My lady!"

Faster than even a startled Carl could react, the circle's light flared upward, severing us from everyone around us.

And when the light of the magic circle finally died away—

Arthur and I had been hurled somewhere into the ancient temple of Kolsiti.

Son of a bitch.