Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: The Prodigal Prince's All-In (2)
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I had bet everything on the kingdom's downfall.
There wasn't a shred of doubt.
Because I'd never seen any other tutorial outcomes.
But my bet fell through?
'Should I make a midnight escape even now?'
After much deliberation, I shook my head.
"No. I sincerely thank you for stopping the rampage."
"Don't worry. My position is solid."
If only the capital got wiped out, I could recover my standing.
But I couldn't let thousands of years of history and the homes of hundreds of thousands of people get obliterated just for my sake.
How many ages would it take to rebuild all that?
"I'm fine. More importantly, why don't you tell me some stories about Your Majesty the Ancestor."
"It's really fine."
After that, I listened to various tales from the Founder Queen.
Maybe loneliness from her life far from home made her skip her own stories, asking only about how splendidly the Arcana Kingdom had grown.
"Pardon?"
Her voice seemed thick with emotion, tears practically dripping from it.
Apparently, the best she could manage was conveying her will through dreams.
She was saying I had exceptionally good reception for communication.
"Your Majesty the Ancestor, give me a moment to check outside."
"My apologies."
I stepped out of the rocky cavern.
From lowly soldiers to nobles, everyone was bustling about.
Even Prime Minister Marquis Ruindra looked frantic, covered in sweat and dust.
The great nobles were nowhere in sight, so I called over an attendant to check what they were doing.
"The nobles are stacking the altar for the ritual."
Rifling through my memories,
I recalled that for such important rituals, only those of prestigious great noble bloodlines stacked the altar.
To prevent impurities, they handled it personally?
So that meant dukes and marquises alike were out there sweating buckets, piling heavy stones because of me.
"Your Highness, Duchess Canelian has returned with Duchess Ceres!"
"...Provide them lodging and let them rest."
"They're heading this way right now!"
"What?"
Damn it, I'm not mentally prepared yet.
Ceres and Canelian approached, covered in dust.
Judging by their disheveled state, I could tell how frantically they'd been carried here.
"Ceres Purely Elryad, eldest daughter of the Elryad Duchy, greets Prince Ragna."
Her voice trembled.
Whether from fear of me, the hardships of the journey, or both.
"Escort Duchess Ceres to a comfortable spot and let her rest well."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
The maids supported the staggering Ceres and withdrew.
Come to think of it, I didn't get a good look at her face.
It was caked in dirt.
Perhaps mindful of onlookers, Canelian knelt on one knee before me.
"As commanded, I've brought my sister."
"Mm. And the other retainers?"
Ceres bit her lip.
Her slender shoulders trembled faintly.
"...I knew it was dangerous, but I had no choice but to leave them behind. We exchanged brief farewells, and I carried only my sister here."
What had I told them to bring Ceres?
"A great catastrophe will sweep this land in the next four hours.
Duchess, go there immediately and bring back at least your sister.""
I didn't even want to imagine what farewell the ducal sisters shared with their escort.
"On the way, she told me. Swarms of rats are fleeing the kingdom's great cities. That must be the omen of the catastrophe Your Highness mentioned."
By now, those rats are probably scurrying back to their nests...
Canelian clutched the brooch at her neck, gazing at me with resolute eyes.
"I'll put my faith in Your Highness's discernment, recognizing this brooch—unknown to me as an artifact—as a mythic-grade one."
Shame stabbed at my chest.
"Thank you in advance for saving my sister. Now I understand... there were grave circumstances behind Your Highness's past wanderings."
I couldn't bear to hear more and cut her off.
"Duchess Canelian, I must visit the sanctuary briefly. Your sister must be shocked and exhausted—go comfort her."
Did I sound too gentle?
Canelian flinched, then her expression softened.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Canelian left.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
When I opened them again,
the sight of countless subjects, soldiers, knights, and nobles suffering through my single command assaulted my vision mercilessly.
'This won't do.'
I turned around.
I headed back into the underground cavern I'd just left—the sacred spring sanctuary where I could commune with the Founder King.
A ghostly mist form materialized as if waiting for me.
"Your Majesty the Ancestor, in truth, I've had prophetic dreams for a long time. A horrific future looms where a massive catastrophe engulfs the kingdom and turns all its lands into sea."
Lay the groundwork first.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The prince was just pure evil with no such excuse.
But now that I had to live as the prince, reputation management was key.
"I averted the disaster from the dream, but now that it's gone, I look like a liar."
"Could you slightly stimulate the remains you left behind to collapse just the main palace atop this cavern, nothing more?"
The Founder Queen's misty form scattered in surprise, then reformed.
"I'm not asking to cancel. Can you make it rampage just a tiny bit? Enough to take out only the main palace."
"Not possible?"
"Ah..."
The Founder Queen's voice carried a note of sorrow.
Pinpoint destruction of just the palace or capital wasn't possible either...
'Damn, this was my chance to boost Canelian's favorability.'
If it came to this, it would've been better if the dragon's bones had rampaged and wiped the kingdom clean...
No, don't think like that.
I'm not that pure-evil prodigal prince anymore.
The Holy Site was a whirlwind of frenzy and chaos.
It made the massive refugee camps from zombie movies look tame.
Even the knights had shed their armor and weapons, running about bare-bodied.
Manpower was that short, the madness that intense.
"We have no water!"
"Where's the drinking water? Go down below the Holy Site and fetch some!"
"Pardon? You want us to go all the way down the mountain for water for all these people?"
"You planning to dig a well in this rocky mountain? Give it a try."
"What about waste disposal?"
"Never defile this sacred Holy Site! Collect it in waste pits, purify with magic, and haul it down the mountain!"
Dragon's Rest.
The Holy Site was a massive rocky mountain.
Not too steep, so its area could accommodate the entire kingdom's populace adequately.
The problem was it was utterly the worst for housing so many people.
All rock, naturally.
The only water was the deep cavern spring accessible only to royalty.
"Your Highness, preparations for the ritual praying for His Majesty the King's recovery to the Ancestor are nearly complete."
"Mm."
"Once the final altar is stacked, everything will be ready."
"Keep up the good work... Can't you hurry it up more? With so many people, why is the preparation this slow?"
"I-I'm sorry! We'll hurry even more!"
The attendant, pale with fear, relaxed at my scolding and withdrew.
From a large silk tent, I watched the frantic ritual preparations unfold.
Soft bedding.
Cool drinks bobbing with ice.
Gentle breezes from the maids' fanning.
Lounging comfortably amid this rugged rocky mountain, watching all those people sweat buckets...
I truly felt like a prodigal tyrant.
Canelian, freshly bathed and changed into clean clothes, came to see me.
"Your Highness, we have less than thirty minutes left."
"Mm..."
"Word of the massive rat exodus from the great cities has finally reached here.
Everyone's saying the Ancestor guided Your Highness here to avert the catastrophe."
I stared at Canelian wordlessly.
'You know that dragon was an illusion we conjured with the Emerald Lake Queen's Brooch, right?'
As if reading my mind, she cleared her throat and averted her gaze.
"Did the Ancestor truly orchestrate all this?"
"Duchess Canelian, this pilgrimage to the Holy Site is an event for the entire kingdom to pray together for His Majesty the regent king's recovery."
"Your Highness?"
"Nothing more."
The time I'd foretold to Canelian finally arrived.
At first, when thirty minutes passed, she was nonchalant.
As it stretched to one hour, two, three, her gaze grew sharper.
Her silence ratcheted the tension higher.
And evening fell.
Duchess Ceres's escort, left behind by Canelian, arrived utterly exhausted.
Having ditched the tribute loaded on wagons, riding wyverns bare.
Duchess Ceres rushed out upon hearing and tearfully rejoiced in their reunion.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for abandoning you all."
"No, Duchess. It was our duty."
Viscount Cord, wyvern knight captain, knelt in his battered state and reported.
"The wyvern lord abandoned the attack and withdrew, but for safety, we marched on foot for hours before flying back."
"...Well done—no, that's the best you could manage? I was a fool for expecting anything from you, Viscount!"
"My deepest apologies!"
Despite my harsh reprimand, Viscount Cord withdrew with a relieved expression.
Canelian drew close and whispered lowly.
"Your Highness, could we speak privately for a moment?"
"It's getting dark, so that's difficult..."
"Is there a problem? I'm to be your crown princess, in place of my sister."
Canelian's lips smiled, but her eyes didn't.
"Let's talk for a bit, Your Highness."
If I'd known it'd come to this, I never would've gone all-in on the kingdom's collapse...