Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 138
Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 138
Lion checked the amount of money in his inventory.
‘When was the last time I checked?’
He’d definitely earned fifty thousand shillings from the achievement for rescuing Varg, so he seemed to have had a little over two hundred fifty thousand shillings.
“Huh?”
But the balance was larger than he’d expected.
Roughly over three hundred thousand shillings?
‘Did I clear a bunch of small achievements without realizing it?’
Now that he thought about it, he’d unlocked new talents and leveled up a lot in that time.
There had been so many notifications popping up that he must have dismissed the minor ones instantly and never noticed.
“Nice.”
His funds being better padded than anticipated put him in a very good mood.
‘At this rate, even with moderate spending, I’ll hit a million shillings fast.’
Lion ducked into a quiet alley, leaned against a wall, and immediately opened the Shilling Shop.
[Welcome, valued customer.]
[Would you like to browse the products?]
“Show me synthesis catalyst items. Sorted lowest price first.”
Wait, that would probably give way too many categories, wouldn’t it?
Lion considered for a moment, then added a word.
“Only items related to blacksmiths.”
[Retrieving all items containing ‘synthesis catalyst’ and ‘blacksmith,’ sorted lowest price first.]
Immediately, a fair variety of items began to appear in a long list.
Synthesis.
In the game, it had actually been one of the most crucial item types.
Of course, if two materials simply paired well together, synthesis was possible without a catalyst, but at higher crafting tiers, a catalyst became essential.
That was because the materials’ own innate characteristics grew stronger and stronger.
So a catalyst always had to be included as a supplementary ingredient, but…
‘If I wanted to craft a supplementary catalyst, I could.’
But right now, he was short on time.
The demonic beast egg could certainly endure for a long while, but how much had it already suffered?
‘Still, I’m glad I’d saved up some shillings.’
Weren’t shillings made for exactly this kind of emergency?
Lion decided to use them freely.
“Let’s see here…”
[Illegal Cracker]
-A snack from a blacksmith with a crooked disposition.
-Allows synthesis of any item through illegal channels, but the seller assumes no liability if you are caught.
-Must sign a contract affirming no connection to the seller before consuming the cracker. (Contract included at no charge.)
-40,000 shillings
Pass.
Lion scrolled straight past it.
[Dwarf King’s Drink]
-Just one beer will ‘temporarily’ transform you into a Dwarf King.
-Obviously, *hic!* you can probably enhance any item, right?
-70,000 shillings
“Hmm.”
The effect seemed outstanding, but there were a few catches.
What exactly was that word “temporarily”?
And on top of that, you got drunk.
“Let me look at a few more first…”
If there was no other choice, he’d have to use even that one, but he didn’t actually want to turn into a dwarf.
[Bubble Mold]
-A mold that turns into bubbles and vanishes the moment you synthesize the item.
-But the effect is guaranteed! Even a beginner can shape it exactly as desired!
-Complimentary melting solution included.
-Single-use item.
-160,000 shillings ☞ 80,000 shillings! (Clearance, 50 percent off!)
“…”
For something called a mold, it vanished after a single use; he could see exactly why it was on clearance.
But still…
Among these three, this was the best option.
All the items listed below it were beyond what Lion’s funds could purchase.
“I’ll go with the Bubble Mold.”
The effect was guaranteed, wasn’t it?
Besides, it said the melting solution was thrown in for free.
[Item purchased!]
[‘Bubble Mold’ permanently bound.]
[Lost 80,000 shillings.]
[Current balance: 223,400 shillings.]
His funds were more comfortable than planned, so this was a decision he could afford to make.
“Good. Now…”
Time to go borrow Mudu’s smithy.
Lion checked his inventory, emerged from the alley, and headed straight for Mudu’s Smithy.
* * *
Emperor Tylearius was deeply uncomfortable in this place.
“…”
The reason was simple: Marquis Asteri was sitting right in front of him!
Those abyss-like violet eyes roiled as if they might release mana at any second.
The Emperor swallowed dryly and opened his mouth.
“I heard a few days ago that bandits appeared in the Lungen territory.”
“Please continue.”
Petrick regarded him with the air of a man merely spectating what kind of drivel this fellow would spout next.
‘I have to pull this off.’
The Emperor repeated the thought to himself.
If he made a misstep and earned Petrick’s ire… he couldn’t guarantee what would come after.
“Ahem, a truly regrettable affair. I have told the First Prince on many occasions that nothing comes before the security of the Empire, and yet.”
The Emperor dabbed at his cold sweat with a handkerchief and went on.
“It seems the First Prince, perhaps from inexperience, failed to properly oversee the Empire’s security. I have therefore personally punished him.”
“Oh-ho.”
A faint laugh escaped Petrick.
So that was how the Emperor meant to play it.
‘The Emperor has grown rather bold with age.’
It wasn’t a bad approach.
“What manner of punishment?”
Petrick asked as if he didn’t already know, and the answer sprang from the Emperor’s mouth at once.
“Judging that failing to look after the people is a grave sin, I ordered him confined to quarters until my birthday.”
“Is there more?”
“Furthermore, he has been forbidden from receiving any visitors.”
“Hmm…”
Normally the man had no knack for this sort of work, but perhaps because he’d already clamped down on discipline beforehand, his resolution was swift.
A not unsatisfactory result, but…
“And what further punishment did you impose?”
Petrick was not someone who would be satisfied here.
After all, the man they’d touched was his own grandson, precious enough to hold in his eyes.
“Further…”
What more could there possibly be?
Weren’t these measures already excessive for the First Prince of the Empire?
He could already see exactly how the First Prince’s faction would react.
-Your Majesty!
-Please reconsider this decision!
-However grave his fault, he is still the First Prince of the Empire!
Stress sent a headache pounding against his skull. Then anger surged up.
Not at Petrick…
‘Why did the First Prince let himself be swayed like that!’
Straight at the First Prince!
Tch, what a hopeless fool of a son.
The Emperor raged inwardly at his own child.
The Empress was no dimwit, so how had the prince turned out with a greed heavier than a treasure vault but a mind light as a cloud?
The Emperor assigned himself not the slightest share of the blame.
In truth, he didn’t even want to pass the throne to the First Prince, but…
Elevating the Second Prince, whose eyes were always sharp enough to cut a throat at any moment, would be even more idiotic, so he endured it by force.
And this was also a chance to land a blow on House Asteri.
It was a known rumor, whispered here and there, that the heir of House Asteri supported the Second Prince.
But without some upheaval, the eldest, pure-blooded First Prince ought to ascend the throne, shouldn’t he?
If that happened… they could leave a stain on the Asteri heir: that he had no eye for people, or that House Asteri was no longer the house it once was.
‘I don’t even wish for the fall of that monstrous house.’
The Emperor had long since been thoroughly mentally reconditioned—but the terror he’d felt in the past was both a shackle and a grudge.
So, at least once during his own reign, he still harbored a simmering desire to make House Asteri taste humiliation.
Of course, for the moment, that grudge had to be folded away neatly and tucked into the deepest recesses of his heart.
Emperor Tylearius averted his gaze from Petrick Asteri, lifted his teacup with a trembling hand, and gulped down the tea.
The water had just been boiled and scalded the inside of his mouth, but he had no leisure to care.
“…I have also decreed that the funds allocated for maintenance of dignity shall be suspended until my birthday.”
He had cut off even the purse strings.
This way, the First Prince would be unable to move freely for at least a few months.
Though that was a rather painful blow for the Emperor himself…
it was better than becoming thoroughly estranged from Petrick Asteri over this incident.
“Hmm. I am certain the First Prince will fully take Your Majesty’s intent to heart.”
Petrick withdrew his surging mana.
It meant he was willing to let the matter pass with this much.
“And what became of the bandits?”
The man who had been sitting utterly silent until now spoke.
Swish.
Petrick rolled his eyes to the side and fixed his gaze on the figure seated diagonally from him.
‘I didn’t expect this one to show up as well.’
It was none other than the Archbishop.
In and of itself, a meeting between the Archbishop and the Emperor was nothing extraordinary.
But tacitly, Petrick and the Archbishop almost never crossed paths.
When necessary, they held secret meetings, but officially they were, after all, “rivals.”
Yet the moment Petrick awoke, the Archbishop, apparently filled with some whim, had abandoned the temple and simultaneously sought out the Emperor.
And he had done so fully aware that Petrick was here.
‘Perhaps he hasn’t yet fully woken.’
Petrick hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, but he knew the Archbishop had been sleeping.
Because plenty of parties would run rampant during the intermittent periods when the Archbishop fell into a deep slumber.
And furthermore…
he also knew that his grandson had pulled off something tremendous at the temple.
Contributing to the sanctuary, no less!
From what he’d heard, it had happened because Lion stepped forward for a young child.
That gentle heart of his was deeply commendable, but at the same time, it worried him.
The reason was…
‘Madman.’
Petrick shook his head inwardly.
That Archbishop might look gentle, like a truly good person, but the man was a madman.
Normally, he embodied benevolence and mercy itself.
A mild expression and a smile. Even a disposition that looked kindly upon the unfortunate.
But—
The moment anything involved the ‘Hero,’ he lost all reason.
So he was one of the people Petrick intended to keep from meeting his grandson as much as possible.
‘Of course, I understand why he is so fixated…’
The reason was obvious.
It must be because of the Saintess.
But a past obsession must never be allowed to trip up his grandson, who was living his own life well now.
Thus, Petrick had planned to avoid any direct encounter for the foreseeable future, yet the Archbishop had abruptly appeared on his own.
‘Whatever his scheme may be.’
Petrick watched the Archbishop without letting it show.
The Emperor, perhaps unaware of the Archbishop’s ulterior motive, answered with a noticeably more relaxed expression.
“I personally ordered the bandits executed.”
“Oh dear.”
The Archbishop assumed an expression of deep regret and offered a light prayer.
“God shall now judge them directly. For they dared to torment the innocent for their own selfish ends.”
But the words he added were utterly merciless. In fact, they were quite brutal.
Divine judgment: it was called the punishment of the soul.
At the temple, it was the word they used when discussing a punishment more dreadful than execution or burning at the stake.
“…”
Something about this felt off.
“Ah, from what I hear, unsavory incidents of this sort have been occurring with some frequency of late.”
“Is… is that so?”
“Yes. I imagine it would be wise to prepare for any eventuality.”
The Archbishop went on about how no one knew what might happen next and how His Majesty needed to safeguard his health—empty words with no substance.
It was as if he were deliberately trying to shoo the Emperor out of the room.
He plainly had something he intended to say to Petrick alone.
‘Most likely the reason…’
Was his grandson.