Chapter 47
Chapter 47
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: The One Who Draws the Sword (2)
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The Imperial Dragon Knight Order has been revived.
And the best way to announce the revival of the knight order is to 'show' it.
Just stepping out in front of countless people will spread the rumors.
Moreover, if the reclusive Crown Prince appears alongside them, those rumors will spread at an unprecedented speed.
And right now, the place drawing the largest crowds and serving as the epicenter of gossip was none other than the imperial palace.
People of all sorts were challenging to become the master of the spirit summoned within the palace grounds.
Regardless of status, gender, or age.
For some, it was a chance at turning their lives around; for others, a way to prove themselves. That was why they were flocking in from across the entire continent.
But they had no idea that the owner had been decided from the very start.
The sword embedded in the rock—Spirit Caliburn.
I intended to proclaim my own revival by drawing Caliburn.
It was an arrangement I'd prepared from the beginning for exactly this purpose.
'A prince of Rigel Kingdom...'
I quietly stared at the prince who'd gone pale right before my eyes.
I couldn't remember his face. Or his name.
Rigel Kingdom was the nation pressed up against the empire's eastern border—a country that held its own in the regional power struggles.
I recalled they maintained good relations with the empire and had quite a few decent figures among them.
'But he's not ringing any bells.'
Was there even a prince like this?
"I, I failed to recognize the great empire's Crown Prince, Your Highness, and committed a grave offense. Please forgive me with your boundless mercy..."
Pow!
The prince took a fist to the face and tumbled to the ground.
He clutched his struck cheek, sitting there in stunned confusion.
He'd never even imagined someone would hit him.
"I've heard that you beat a dog that bites people to death. Spirit keeper, am I wrong?"
"Th-that's..."
Comparing the prince to a dog left even the spirit keeper flustered.
Especially the part about beating it to death.
Any other prince might be different, but standing before him now was the Crown Prince.
No one could dismiss the Crown Prince's words about killing as mere threats.
"Crown Prince, Your Highness, what have I done to deserve this? Are you, the great imperial Crown Prince, really taking the side of some lowly commoner?"
The prince shouted in outrage.
As he said, the spirit keeper was a commoner.
The spirit keeper was the one chosen directly by Caliburn.
He'd originally been in charge of the palace stables, but when Germin needed to sneak the carriage out, he'd pulled some strings to put him in this role.
"The dog's still barking. You there— if that dog barks once more, cut out its tongue and toss it in the sewers."
"Yes, Your Highness."
At once, knights clad in armor embroidered with imperial dragons drew their swords.
Seven knights in gleaming silver helms and crimson cloaks.
All of them, who had once been shadows, had returned as full members of the order.
Their numbers were few, but they were the elite of the elite.
They were perfected warriors that even Daemon coveted—no way some knights from a minor eastern kingdom could match them.
The prince of Rigel Kingdom gulped.
His own knights sensed the vast gap in skill at a glance and froze in place.
"Spirit keeper."
"Y-yes, Your Highness? You called?"
"How long must I wait to try drawing the sword?"
"By His Majesty's decree, we go in the order of the line..."
The spirit keeper turned to look at the queue.
An endless line stretched out.
But those at the front were mostly nobles.
Commoners only got their chance when the open hours were nearly over.
The nobles up front wouldn't just stand idly by and wait for some commoner.
The order was determined by status and rank.
As the spirit keeper's gaze fell on them, the man behind the prince shook his head furiously.
Every noble in the line that caught his eye shook their heads like mad.
Some even stepped back or turned away entirely.
'You idiot spirit keeper. Are you trying to get me killed?'
'Follow the order right now, and we'll all lose our heads in order.'
'Just let him draw it already! Screw the order!'
The nobles' faces had gone pale too.
Crown Prince Reinhardt.
This was the first time he'd shown up in a place like this, but the rumors about him had already spread across the continent.
He kills anyone who displeases him.
Backtalk? Death. Blocking his path? Death.
Rumor even had it that his palace had no sharp objects at all.
He'd killed so many that he bathed in blood instead of water, they said—a demon.
Some whispers claimed he roasted humans alive and ate them, or sliced flesh into tens of thousands of pieces for sashimi.
"Y-you can draw it right now, I think."
"Hm, is that so?"
I slowly approached Caliburn.
—I am Caliburn. Spirit of the great king. Only the one who draws me shall possess the true qualities of a sovereign.
As it always said to first-time viewers.
I smirked and turned to the knights.
"If I fail to draw the sword, blame the barking dog for the bad omen—cut off its head then."
"...!"
The Rigel prince's eyes widened.
Everyone who heard it reacted the same way.
Countless challengers had tried and failed.
The odds of the Crown Prince succeeding were next to zero.
In other words, he'd just sentenced the Rigel prince to death.
"Yes, Your Highness."
"We shall obey your command."
The Imperial Dragon Knight Order showed no hesitation.
They drew their swords, already poised to sever his neck.
'What? Is he seriously going to kill me right now?'
His mind snapped alert.
No matter that he was the empire's Crown Prince—he had no authority to kill a foreign prince.
Besides, Rigel Kingdom was practically an ally of the empire.
Killing an allied prince over one slip of the tongue was as good as declaring war.
Even with the empire's might, its current emperor wasn't Deus, the exalted Holy King?
'Yeah. It's a bluff. A commoner's life isn't worth the same as a royal's.'
The Crown Prince only went that far with commoners.
He couldn't handle the fallout from killing nobles or royalty.
Reinhardt reached out his hand.
The prince couldn't hold back any longer.
"W-wait! What did I even do wro—?!"
Splat!
His mouth exploded.
It happened so suddenly there was barely any pain—just the sensation of fluid filling and bursting inside.
'My tongue?'
No feeling.
Only when he felt the blood trickling down his jaw did his whole body start trembling like a leaf.
"Prince Flick!"
"M-my t-tongue... my t-tongue! Gahk!"
Prince Flick couldn't believe this was happening.
This went beyond mere humiliation—he'd severed a prince's tongue.
Seeing his own tongue on the ground made time feel like it had stopped.
"Toss it in the sewers after I draw the sword. If I fail, cut off his head."
You mad bastard!
Flick ground his teeth.
Crown Prince Reinhardt was truly insane.
Cutting out his tongue over one mistake—and it was Rigel Kingdom's prince's tongue, no less!
"It'shall be done."
"Wh-what are you doiiing! Don't prwoteckt meee!"
Flick screamed with his mutilated tongue.
Flick had fifteen knights in total.
Rigel's elite knights—and more than double their number.
They all drew their swords in unison.
But the Imperial Dragon Knight Order was even faster.
"Wh-what is this?"
The moment they drew, their swords snapped in two.
Silently.
Slicing steel so cleanly was impossible even for a master swordsman.
It required aura—or mana on par with it—infused into the blade.
At minimum, upper-level sword expert.
'All seven of them at that level or higher?'
Flick's knights and captain panicked.
That was elite knight order captain level. With seven of them, numbers alone wouldn't solve this.
Flick felt a sense of crisis.
'I'm dead.'
Dead. Really dead.
In that mad Crown Prince's eyes, commoners and royalty were worth the same.
Differences in status?
No—just meat lumps.
But what had provoked him?
'I'm doing exactly what I said to that commoner.'
Slap his cheek, treat him like a dog, threaten to cut out his tongue.
He couldn't comprehend it.
He was just a lowly commoner.
Should die when told to die, kneel when told to kneel.
So why?
Why was he getting this treatment over some filthy commoner? He couldn't wrap his head around it.
But he had to survive.
Absolutely couldn't let him draw that sword.
It wouldn't come out anyway—and if it didn't, his head would roll.
"I-I'm sowwy. Pleash, have m-merthy."
Flick begged, right up in his face.
His mangled tongue garbled his words.
But the Crown Prince didn't waver.
Ignoring Flick entirely, he reached out and gripped the sword's hilt.
"Ah... aaah..."
Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.
One of the Imperial Dragon knights extended his sword to Flick's neck.
Flick's body went limp.
And the moment Crown Prince Reinhardt pulled on the sword...
Flick's bladder let go too.
"Hm, you're a lucky one."
Am I seeing this wrong?
A hallucination?
Maybe my head's already gone.
But before he could process it, Flick passed out cold.
"The stench is awful. No need to bother with the sewers now."
I wrinkled my nose and pinched it.
The surroundings were dead silent.
Because of the brutality?
Or Flick fainting?
No—because of the sword in my hand.
Every eye was fixed on the spirit weapon Caliburn—and my hand grasping it.
"Drag him outside the palace."
At my words to Flick, the knights grabbed his ankles and dragged him across the floor.
His filth smeared a trail behind.
I clicked my tongue, then turned to the dazed spirit keeper.
"And you, spirit keeper."
"...Ah, yes! Your Highness."
"You've worked hard all this time. A spirit is the palace's treasure, so you deserve equal treatment for guarding it. What do you want?"
"N-nothing. It was an honor. One I'll never get again in my life."
"Speak from the heart. Opportunities like this don't come often."
Hearing that, the spirit keeper pondered for a moment.
"Well... then. May I'make one request?"
"Go ahead."
"Could I say goodbye to the spirit one last time?"
"That's it?"
It was such an anticlimactic request it left me deflated.
But the spirit keeper looked relieved.
"Yes. When would a lowly wretch like me get another chance like this? Thanks to the spirit choosing me, I had a great experience. I just want to express my gratitude."
It was a role Germin had forced on him to sneak the carriage out.
And he'd fulfilled that duty to the letter.
This probably wasn't the first time something like the prince incident had happened.
He must have dealt with countless finicky nobles, yet here he was, grateful.
What an interesting guy.
Most people would ask for gold, jewels, or a fancy mansion.
"What's your name?"
"Halbert, sir."
"Halbert, you've said your goodbyes. From now on, you'll manage Caliburn in my palace."
"Pardon...?"
"Learn butler duties under Germin."
Halbert was utterly dumbfounded.
He looked like he couldn't tell if this was a dream or reality.
Still holding Caliburn, I lifted it high.
I examined it as it caught the light from all angles, then smirked.
By now, everyone knew I was its master.
'By the way, they say drawing Caliburn elevates one's status... but there's only one status left for me to rise to...'
Not like I could actually ask for that.
It was a real dilemma.
What should I request?