Chapter 14
Chapter 14
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: S1. The Prince, the Flower, and the Resistance -4
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"The pursuit's dragging on, but what's chasing us anyway?"
"It's the mechanized infantry. They use gear mechanisms to assist their movements, so they never tire. We need to shake them off... Irid?"
"This time it's over there. What is it?"
"You're running at full speed right now... right?"
"I'm not arrogant enough to act leisurely in a dire situation."
Every time he vaulted over a wall, Irid's breathing grew more ragged and unsteady. The chase had been going on for ten minutes now. He was already drenched in sweat.
In contrast, not a single drop of sweat marred Centra's face.
"Um... Irid, can I carry you?"
"What?"
"We're about to get caught. I can go a bit faster!"
Irid's face filled with anguish for a moment.
Useless pride offered no help in a crisis. But, but...
Did he really have to endure the humiliation of being carried by a woman? Maybe he could just send her ahead and hide nearby himself.
"Sorry, I'll apologize later!"
"Wait... grk!"
But Centra's determination outpaced Irid's hesitation. She scooped up the backs of his knees and his back with both arms and leaped forward in one fluid motion.
It was the classic princess carry.
"...!!"
Irid gritted his teeth against the soul-shaking shock and bore it. He belted out the imperial anthem in his mind, desperately trying to clear his head.
The moment Centra scooped him up in a princess carry, something massive pressed against his chest and abdomen. Her full-body tights were thin enough that the soft sensation transmitted directly through.
This wasn't the time to worry about being carried by a woman.
This was a matter of plunging into an even more perilous situation!
A blissful yet precarious time. Irid consciously focused on other things. Like how everything shook violently with each of Centra's strides... No. No.
On Centra's panther-like movements.
Centra navigated the shortcuts Irid pointed out, using only her legs to vault over walls and obstacles of every kind. It was masterful acrobatics. Superhuman stamina.
Her run took her across the rooftop of a building before pausing briefly. There was a street between buildings wide enough for two carriages to pass—too far to jump on foot. Centra set Irid down for a moment.
Liberated from heaven and hell alike, Irid wiped the sweat from his brow and caught his breath. It had been excessively stimulating for his heart. And with his mind finally clearing, he came up with a plan.
Just as Irid was about to suggest leaping onto a passing carriage to hide...
Centra fired her grappling hook toward the building opposite.
Whiiish—! Clack!
The rope-tethered hook lodged firmly atop the opposing spire. Centra tugged the rope twice to confirm it held, then turned to Irid with a grin.
"Ready?"
"...You're planning to cross like this? To the other building."
"Of course!"
"I'm ready."
"You don't look it. If we're crossing together, you'll have to hold on, right?"
Centra patted her waist.
Irid realized he would have to hurl himself into heaven and hell once more.
"..."
Irid wrapped his arms around Centra's waist, blushing like a shy schoolboy—it was the first time in his life he'd felt this way. They were incredibly close. He seriously wondered if he could hear her pounding heartbeat.
"Closer. Tighter."
Centra looped one arm around Irid's waist and pulled him in. They were practically embracing. A whiff of rosemary brushed Irid's nose. His head spun.
Centra whispered softly into his ear.
"Afraid of heights?"
"...No."
"Then... how about feeling what it's like to fly? It's amazing!"
"...Hm."
"Look at the sky real good, and focus. On the wind brushing your skin... and the thrill!"
Thrust.
Centra leaped lightly as if propelled. Their bodies floated weightlessly for an instant, tracing a perfect arc together. Wind rushed past. Ears rang, hair whipped in the breeze.
The rag covering Irid's blond hair flew away, but there was no time to care. The sky was brilliantly blue, the rope swing dizzying, and Centra's laughing face breathtakingly beautiful.
I'll never forget this scene for the rest of my life.
Irid thought that, then smiled. In that moment, he forgot all his headaches. For a brief time, he was truly free.
And so the short flight ended.
The two hid in a rundown, dingy stable. They planned to wait until the pursuers gave up and left.
"How was it?"
"...Quite thrilling. I should've accepted when the Golden Magic Tower Master offered to let me try flight magic."
"You know the Golden Magic Tower Master...?"
"Yes. Though probably not the current one. The previous, or maybe the one before."
"...?"
The eyes are the windows to the soul, they say. Centra's clear gaze transparently reflected her feelings. Pure curiosity. Irid chuckled, as if looking at a inquisitive kitten.
"You won't tell me?"
"No, I wasn't trying to brush it off with a laugh. You just looked so beautiful, it made me smile."
"...W-what?! What are you even saying...?"
Centra smacked Irid's shoulder.
It hurt like a full wooden sword swing, but he could endure it. Seeing her flustered expression filled his soul. Rubbing his shoulder gently, Irid said calmly,
"I am the empire's Second Prince Irid. From a hundred years ago."
"A hundred years ago?!"
"The Violet Magic Tower's genius mage restored dimensional magic. I tested it out. Didn't expect it to leap through time rather than dimensions... Will you believe me?"
"Of course! I'm shocked, but... honestly, you look just like the portrait!"
"So my image survived?"
"After the defeat, the Kingdom Alliance said they'd let people live if they trampled an effigy of you on the floor..."
"...No basic respect for enemy commanders, huh. Tsk."
"So, should I call you Prince, then?"
"Irid is fine. Skip the titles—I don't want to hear them from you."
"Got it, Irid. The world's full of wonders!"
Centra's eyes sparkled with amazement, but a chill wind made her shiver. Irid grabbed a handful of straw and draped it over her like a blanket.
"That outfit—for Resistance activities?"
"...You knew?!"
"The documents make it obvious."
"Yeah... Resistance... yep!"
"How'd that happen? Doesn't seem your style."
"My father was the Resistance leader. After he passed... the members said I'd be perfect and made me leader. That's how it went."
A shadow crossed Centra's face. Was she burdened by the leadership role?
She'd seemed so happy working at the inn. Her nature suited everyday joys over conflict.
"What's happening at the Founding Festival?"
"Operation Beer and Song is going down. My idea."
"Rioting with bootleg booze?"
"W-what? No! I think fighting and clashing like that is... wrong, somehow. So Beer and Song is about singing with the drunks. Songs with silly lyrics calling to end discrimination and persecution."
"...Did all the Resistance members agree?"
"Split... The hardliners hate it. Even the neutrals go along because I'm my father's daughter."
The Resistance survivors against the Kingdom Alliance weren't softies. They were surely ready to shed blood. Yet this half-hearted plan was pushing through—either Centra's father had immense charisma, or...
"I know. A prank like this won't change a thing."
"But I also know this: even an armed uprising would mostly kill civilians. They'd suffer the losses too. A small group fighting a nation... it's like an egg against a rock."
"So at least, I wanted to try the right way."
"I want the masses to reflect, just once. To feel like changing a world that crushes people as slaves, where everyone curses and draws swords on each other."
"Beer and Song is the result of that whim."
...Centra showed the makings of a leader.
She chose the right path—low odds of success, but righteous—even if it ended in farce. Some would call her a fool...
"I'll help."
"Really?!"
"It's a joke of a plan... but it'll be different with my touch. I'm destined to be emperor someday."
Even if his future self became the Fallen Emperor Irid and doomed the empire. Not now. He was young, healthy, spirited...
And his heart burned hotter than ever.
Thud. Thud.
Footsteps passed the stable. Irid and Centra burrowed into a mound of straw like a mountain. In the cramped, dark space, they faced each other alone.
"...Planning to live here forever?"
Whispering.
"...No, I return the day of the Founding Festival."
"That's... a bit disappointing. Will I see you again?"
"Maybe."
"Then promise me?"
A hand reached out in the dark. It landed on Irid's thigh. Countless hypotheses flooded his mind about the gesture.
Centra fumbled around until she found her target: Irid's hand. All hypotheses discarded.
She pulled his hand over and hooked her pinky with his.
"Finish Beer and Song, go back... and if we meet again someday, call my name?"
"...What an odd request."
"You'll promise, right?"
"...Yeah."
"Time for the fireworks soon."
"...You're really doing it? Prince, you're softer than I thought..."
"You just saw it. The Second Prince's resolve. If you get that serious about TRPG... I have no choice but to go all in too—!"
"I tried to stop you?"
Whether the scaredy-cat Magic Tower Master pulled a white move or not, my soul was blazing hot. It was all prep for the final happy ending scene.
I'm ready. Bring it—Second Prince Irid!