3. In the Midst of the Throne War (1)
3. In the Midst of the Throne War (1)
He had bought clothes, and next, he simply intended to fill his stomach.
So he entered a moderately crowded restaurant. That usually meant the food was at least passable.
A young girl draped in a robe that blatantly screamed suspicious stared at him, but he paid her no mind. His sole purpose was eating.
-Why do you keep stuffing your face, you bastard?
But then a hulking figure with red hair picked a fight.
And when Yuma advised him to mind his own business, the man immediately fired a blazing red sphere.
[Lv.103]
The number floating above the bastard's head was quite intimidating.
However, that red sphere looked like something he could parry well enough.
So he merely parried it.
-It's the Imperial Sword.
It turned out he had killed one of the ten strongest people in the Empire.
He was dumbfounded.
***
"Move aside."
A gentle voice rang out from behind the wide-eyed, horrified knights who were shouting.
"Y-your Highness the First Prince!"
Schubertche von Astes, the 1st Prince of the Asthes Empire, pushed the knights aside and stepped forward. But he did not enter the restaurant. He stood at the threshold, staring at Yuma.
He had begun to feel an unconscious fear of Yuma.
"I myself heard the testimony of the people outside. According to them, you, sir, killed Sir Kainegal, the 8th Seat of the Empire. Is that true?"
Schubertche's well-kept golden hair swayed.
And his narrowed eyes beneath that golden hair were also noticeable.
Sir.
Being addressed as such, Yuma nodded slowly.
"I killed him."
Schubertche glanced at the black-haired young girl sitting at the table next to Yuma. If that man sided with the young girl, things would get troublesome.
Schubertche looked back at Yuma.
"May I ask why you killed him?"
Yuma gestured with his chin toward the empty bowls on the table.
"He disturbed my meal."
Schubertche's brow furrowed.
"Disturbed... your meal?"
He had thought it would be fine as long as the reason wasn't to protect the young girl. But the reason was utterly baffling. It wasn't just Prince Schubertche who was stunned. The thirty knights who heard Yuma's words trembled as if in shock.
Schubertche steadied his pounding heart and continued.
"So, you killed the Imperial Sword. One of the Imperial Ten Seats... over that?"
Yuma's blue eyes stared straight at Schubertche.
"Is there any need for a more elaborate reason?"
Schubertche gulped.
A cold sweat ran down his back.
'Without even any ferocious killing intent.'
He was overwhelming people. That made it all the more terrifying. Schubertche couldn't even begin to fathom what kind of monster stood before his eyes.
The confidence to control any situation at will, no matter what enemy appeared. That was how Schubertche perceived Yuma's actions and words.
Schubertche looked at the people on either side of him.
His always-reliable personal escorts.
On his left stood a knight clad head-to-toe in red armor, holding a spear. One of the Imperial Ten Seats, like Kainegal: the 9th Seat Spear Demon, Roark.
And on his right was his personal bodyguard knight, Leonard.
"Can you kill him? For certain?"
Spear Demon Roark slowly shook his head.
"I cannot be sure."
"What if the two of you attack together?"
Leonard's gaze shifted to Kainegal's corpse. The sight of the torso, literally blown open, delivered a greater shock than expected. Especially for Leonard, who knew just how strong Kainegal was.
"Even so, I cannot guarantee it."
Schubertche also stared at Kainegal's corpse again.
At the body turning gruesomely cold.
The skill backing up that arrogant demeanor was clearly genuine.
In that case, it was right to stop here.
In a situation where not all of the Imperial Ten Seats obediently followed his orders, he couldn't afford to lose the ones who did.
Schubertche looked back at Yuma.
"...I shall not hold you responsible for this crime. My business is with the woman beside you. May I speak with her and then be on my way?"
It was a clear declaration of defeat.
For a prince tasked with protecting the Empire's security to be saying he would pardon the crime of killing one of the Imperial Swords in the heart of the capital.
But even at the prince's absurd and pathetic display, the knights could say nothing. For they themselves had been consumed by fear long ago.
Yuma stared quietly at Schubertche.
A brief standoff.
During that standoff, someone else appeared in front of the restaurant.
"Brother Schubertche."
It was a woman with pure white hair.
With indigo-blue eyes.
Schubertche turned his head with a stiff face and stared at her.
"...Brigitte."
Brigitte von Astes, the 1st Princess.
"That child is my guest. I should have come out to meet her. I was late."
The child Princess Brigitte referred to as her guest was none other than the black-haired, golden-eyed young girl.
Schubertche's brow furrowed deeply.
His narrowed eyes flew wide open for a moment.
'Goddamn it.'
He had mobilized even Kainegal, the 8th Seat of the Empire, precisely to prevent this moment. Unlike his fiery temperament, he was extremely meticulous as a hunter tracking his prey.
'Because of that bastard.'
Because of that man who suddenly fell from the sky and was now wearing a languid expression. Everything had gone awry.
Schubertche decided on one last act of desperation.
Schubertche looked at Brigitte with a friendly, narrow-eyed smile.
"But Brigitte, it is a Witch's Seed. No matter how magically gifted the child, taking her in could bring some dark cloud upon the Empire."
Brigitte shook her head without any change in expression.
"She is a Witch's Daughter. As you well know, brother, there is no proof she will follow her parent's nature."
And without hesitation, she stepped inside the restaurant.
A knight clad in white-light armor followed Brigitte in. It was Michael, Brigitte's personal knight.
Brigitte stood next to the young girl.
"I am sorry, Cloné. I called you to the capital, yet I failed to come out and meet you."
The black-haired, golden-eyed young girl, Cloné, shook her head vigorously and prostrated herself on the floor.
"Not at all! Your Highness! I was able to stay safe thanks to the person beside me."
Cloné's brilliantly shining golden eyes turned toward Yuma.
At Cloné's words, Princess Brigitte also turned her gaze to examine the man sitting there with a world-weary expression, the ash-gray-haired man, Yuma.
'So this is the one.'
The man who had killed Kainegal, the 8th Seat of the Empire, who lay dead by the door, in a single blow.
Brigitte approached Yuma.
"Thank you for saving my guest."
"I had no intention of saving her. He disturbed my meal, so I cleaned up."
Brigitte couldn't even entertain a sliver of doubt about Yuma not using honorifics toward her, a member of the Imperial family.
The inherently great imperial bloodline. She had sensed an aura similar to her own from the man before her.
A lofty pride that could place no one above itself.
"Thank you anyway. In return for saving my guest, I would like to treat you as an honored guest. What do you say?"
Yuma fell into a brief moment of contemplation at Brigitte's words.
He had been racking his brain for a way out of this situation anyway. Honestly, it didn't seem like anyone would try to stop him even if he just walked out right now.
Because even at a glance, he could feel that they were scared stiff of him.
That was only natural. He had killed one of the ten strongest people in the Asthes Empire in a single blow.
'But avoiding the situation isn't the right move.'
His destination, the endpoint, was clearing this game—reaching the ending.
To achieve that, he needed to learn about this world.
And was there anyone who knew it better than the prince or princess right in front of him? Probably not many.
The Prince and the Princess.
If he had to choose one, the conclusion was simple.
The Prince had clearly been hostile to him.
And the Princess was, at the very least, more amicable toward him compared to the Prince.
It was rationally correct to follow the Princess.
"Can I expect something good? This 'hospitality' you speak of."
At Yuma's words, Brigitte smiled brightly.
"Of course."
"Then, let's go."
Yuma rose to his feet. With perfect poise.
The young girl, Cloné, beamed and got up as well, because Yuma's coming along had put her in a very good mood.
Jeobeok─
As Yuma stood before the door, the knights surrounding him all simultaneously widened their distance as if on cue. The same went for the 1st Prince Schubertche.
"Brigitte."
Schubertche, who had gritted his teeth and ignored Yuma's indifferent gaze, stopped Brigitte, who was walking behind Yuma.
"Yes, brother."
"Building your own people is all well and good, but you will also have to bear the responsibility for the results."
Brigitte turned to face Schubertche.
"Then allow me to offer a piece of advice as well."
Their gazes crossed coldly.
"Please, do not cross the line of humanity."
Schubertche ground his teeth as he watched Brigitte's party walk away.
Brigitte guided Yuma and Cloné to an antique red carriage.
Dagadeuk dagadeuk─
Yuma stared out the window for a moment, then, unable to withstand the piercing stare from the seat beside him any longer, he turned to face the person shooting that gaze at him.
"Do you have something to ask me?"
Fifteen years old. The black-haired, golden-eyed young girl, Cloné.
'It seems she thinks I saved her.'
Well, rationally speaking, that was correct anyway. Compared to killing an Imperial Ten Seat for disturbing his meal, killing him to help a young girl in trouble was far more convincing.
Yuma had no intention of deliberately correcting Cloné's misunderstanding.
"M-may I ask your name?"
She asked something so trivial with such great difficulty.
"Yuma."
"Thank you...!"
Cloné beamed.
Yuma thought she thanked him for the strangest things.
'Lord Yuma.'
Cloné etched Yuma's name into her mind.
"Yuma."
It wasn't Cloné who called Yuma, but Brigitte, who was seated in the front.
"Aren't you curious about what that whole situation just now was about?"
"Tell me."
Brigitte chuckled at the tone, one that could never possibly come from a commoner addressing an Imperial Princess.
"Yuma, are you a noble?"
"I'm a commoner."
It wasn't Brigitte whose temper was soured by Yuma's impudence, but rather Brigitte's personal bodyguard knight, Michael.
Seeing the anger fill Michael's eyes, Brigitte shook her head to pacify him.
"Michael, you can't possibly beat him anyway."
Michael bowed his head deeply at Brigitte's words. She was right.
Killing Kainegal of the Red Star, the 8th Seat of the Empire, without a single wound. It was something he could never accomplish. He had the confidence to match Kainegal, but he couldn't guarantee he would win.
A strong person.
This ill-mannered commoner before his eyes, Yuma, was likely a powerhouse in a supreme transcendent realm beyond Master. That was the only possible assessment.
"I'll explain the situation."
Brigitte returned to the main topic.
"The pillar of this Empire, my father, Emperor Agares, is on the verge of eternal slumber."
It meant he was in a state right before death.
"He has been unable to regain consciousness for half a year. We have no idea when he might wake up."
Yuma could predict what would come next from Brigitte's lips.
"You'd have to decide on the next Emperor, then."
Brigitte nodded.
"Yes, that's right."