Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: 9. Spring
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"Hey. You there."
Turning at the sudden voice, she found a pair of narrow, elongated eyes fixed on her.
"Newbie, huh?"
"Y-Yes."
"What the hell are you doing right now?"
"Well..."
May recalled the warnings from her seniors.
There were four black-haired humans in the palace, and naturally, they were Brioll's royals—handle with care.
Details by individual as follows.
First: If the eyes are half-lidded with a bored expression, be maximally polite. Your Highness. Not picky, but screw up and the head steward will chew you out.
Second: If smiling warmly like a spring breeze, you can relax. Brioll's crown prince. Never once troubled a servant.
Third: If the gaze is sinister and the gait crooked, never show an opening. The second prince. Always scheming mischief—best to steer clear.
According to the rundown, this guy was definitely...
"The third..."
"What'd you say?"
"N-No, nothing."
His slouchy stance and rolling eyes matched the second prince's description from her seniors perfectly.
She needed to get away fast.
"I-I have work, so if you'll excuse me..."
"What?"
He furrowed his brow.
"You avoiding me right now?"
"N-No, not at all."
"Looks exactly like you're dodging."
"I really have work..."
"They give you a manual on how to deal with royals or something? Told you to run when you see me? Don't even talk, just bolt?"
Additional warning on Joshua Brioll: Sharp mind, quick on the uptake—extra caution advised.
He was already gearing up to grill her.
"Th-That..."
"Answer straight."
Joshua leaned in close.
"Stuttering in front of royalty? This is the palace. You think you're working at some corner store?"
"S-Sorry."
"Sorry gonna end your palace career? I'm gonna educate you proper today..."
Joshua trailed off and stepped back suddenly.
"Uh..."
At the same moment, a bright voice rang out from behind.
"Brother. What're you doing?"
If voices had colors, it would be the blue of the open sky.
Only one person in the palace called Joshua "brother."
And the notes on him were as follows.
Confident expression, always wearing a sword: the third prince. Handle at your own discretion.
No manual for him because evaluations varied wildly person to person.
"You picking on her?"
"No."
Joshua immediately turned his ire on her.
"Hey, you. Did I bully you?"
"No."
"See? She says no."
"Who'd say yes with you right here?"
"Oh? Then I just gotta leave. You'll be honest then, right?"
Joshua backed up a few more steps.
"Hey, maid. Speak up."
And with that, he scampered off.
Watching his retreating figure, Yuri let out a sigh.
"When the hell's he gonna grow up..."
She couldn't bring herself to look up, mumbling her thanks toward Yuri's chest.
"Thank you..."
"Thanks means my brother was bothering you after all."
"No, he wasn't. I just got flustered..."
"What's your name?"
"May."
"May. Fresh face?"
"Yes."
Yuri grinned.
"You know Ena?"
The third prince's exclusive maid, Ena, was an idol among the palace staff.
"Trouble comes up, talk to Ena. She won't blow you off. Got it?"
"Yes."
"Don't bow your head. You didn't do anything wrong."
"R-Right."
May gazed up at Yuri Brioll in a daze.
His black eyes gleamed like the sunlit surface of a lake.
Being near him made confidence bubble up naturally—a man like that.
"Alright. Keep up the good work."
"Thank you. Um..."
May rummaged in her pockets, desperate to repay the kindness somehow.
Luckily, she had cookies from the kitchen.
"Want one?"
"What is it?"
"Cookies. Super tasty. Head chef made 'em himself."
"Thanks."
She reached to grab a handful from her pocket.
"Oh..."
But Yuri wore leather gauntlets. Too dirty for food.
"Sh-Should I just give you the whole pocketful?"
"Nah, nah. Just that one."
Only then did Yuri remove his gloves and hold out his hand. May sighed in relief and piled a generous handful into his palm.
Yuri popped one in his mouth and smiled.
"Thanks. Delicious. I'll enjoy 'em."
"Y-Yes!"
"Keep it up."
"You too, Your Highness."
May stared blankly at the third prince's back as he walked away, sword clanking.
The final warning from her seniors came to mind.
The most important one.
Never catch feelings for them.
Her seniors weren't wrong about a single thing.
May muttered to herself.
"His Highness swings a sword every day, yet his hands are so pale and refined..."
Yuri glanced at the hand clutching the cookies, pondering where Joshua had fled to.
A swordsman's hand couldn't be this clean.
"Well, good thing I timed it right."
Yuri clenched and unclenched his fist.
It was the realm called Pure Hand Realm.
Those who wield mana like limbs handle swords not with flesh, but mana. The pressure on their hands eases, calluses fade, skin softens.
Proof of highly advanced mana control.
How many knights reached Pure Hand Realm before adulthood?
As far as he knew, none.
Fiore might have, but he never asked.
Yuri muttered as he slipped his gauntlets back on.
"Guess my idle days are ending soon."
Five years ago, beheaded in death, he regressed to the spring of his thirteenth year. Now, he welcomed the spring of his eighteenth.
The time he'd etched in his heart approached.
War's vortex would soon engulf the continent.
No fear, no regrets.
Yuri never forgot the past. To him, peace was merely time to prepare for war.
"They must be yapping away by now."
He eyed the white building ahead.
The Senate chamber.
Father was probably dozing, letting the elders' nonsense flow in one ear and out the other.
He already knew the conclusion they'd haggle over.
Under Count Rian Flandre of Franchese, summon knights from each territory.
Thus, join the Empire's summoned Allied Forces.
Target: Orcs dominating the eastern plains.
Plenty of justification.
Orcs enslaved raided humans, subjecting them to horrific abuses for sport.
The Empire requested troops from every nation in its sphere, vowing to exterminate the orcs and open the eastern path.
"Bullshit."
The Allied Forces would fail.
Rian Flandre and countless knights would perish; promising talents that could one day challenge the Empire would fall.
Enraged orcs would hammer every border kingdom—except the Empire.
He hadn't realized back then, but it was all the Empire's scripted play. Too late to see it.
Not this life.
Entering the building, a Royal Guard saluted.
"Good day, Your Highness."
"Hard at work, Kerry."
"Not at all!"
Over five years, Yuri had gotten familiar with every Royal Guard.
"What brings you here, sir?"
"That."
Yuri jerked his chin. Noisy shouts leaked from within.
"Rowdy, huh?"
"Hahaha..."
"Just sightseeing."
"You going in?"
"Yeah."
Kerry stepped aside.
Yuri strode down the hall to the chamber door.
Voices sharpened.
No, but why should we have to...
Your territory has enough knights to...
You lot first with the...
Yuri smirked bitterly.
Since founding, Brioll was a land of knights. Under Erich Brioll's sword banner, fulfilling knightly duty was noble honor.
Ancient history now.
They clung to what they had, grasping for more.
And their ends?
Yuri touched Guilty clanking at his waist.
Like the knight who gave him this blade, buried as bones.
He was about to kick the massive door open.
"Hold up."
Kerry, following, stopped him.
"Third Prince."
"What?"
"You were gonna kick it, right?"
"Was not."
"Totally were. I'd get disciplined. Cut me some slack."
"How else open it?"
"Follow etiquette. Knock first..."
"Fine, got it."
Yuri nodded. For Kerry's sake, he'd yield.
He knocked lightly.
Knock, knock, knock.
Are you ignoring me or what!
You're the one not listening!
Argument raged on.
He pictured Father blankly seated, mana plugging his ears.
Knocked again.
Knock, knock, knock.
No response. Shouts only grew louder.
What's worth yelling like that?
Knocked once more.
Bang!
The door shattered.
Nobles seated in a circle snapped their gazes over.
The two pointing fingers mid-argument gawked, eyes wide.
The nearest noble called out.
"Third Prince?"
His eyes dropped to the floor.
"Th-The door..."
"Oh, sorry."
Yuri apologized politely.
"Knocked, but no one heard. Slipped and put too much force."
"No, how did you even..."
Yuri was a Mana Circulation Method swordsman. Smashing a door was no feat.
But this was different.
No one disrupted Senate meetings. The doors were thick steel.
Even skilled knights couldn't dent them like that.
The moment Yuri's quiet five years etched into noble minds.
"Might as well forge more swords from this fine iron. Haha."
He laughed, but none joined.
Yuri cleared his throat.
"I'm attending too."
"..."
Gazes turned to the head seat.
Fiore nodded.
Yuri wedged between two nobles near the door, claiming a spot.
They squirmed uncomfortably.
"This okay?"
"Y-Yes..."
"Can I eat that?"
"P-Please do."
"Tasty. Try mine too."
He snatched their refreshments, munching while sharing May's cookies.
The chamber stayed silent. Eyes on Yuri.
Yuri, drink in hand, nodded ahead.
"Continue."
"Uh..."
But they only glanced around.
In Father's stead, Yuri took charge.
"You two finger-pointing earlier, stand up again."
"Pardon?"
"Keep going."
They rose hesitantly. Loud before, meek now with the stage set.
One stammered open.
"W-Well..."
Yuri tuned him out, eyeing a man in the corner.
Rian Flandre.
Exceptional knight, Rolang's father.
Last life, he led Brioll's army. Didn't dodge the pushed role, returned a corpse.
Heroic end, they said.
Waste of talent.
As Yuri pondered, the chamber grew noisy again.
Endless words, one conclusion.
I don't wanna go. Don't wanna send troops.
Yuri chuckled at the blatant opportunism.
Genad in the corner stayed mum. Smart—knew when to sit out.
Then eyes met Fiore's.
...
Father seemed sword-only at a glance, but pierced hearts deftly.
He guessed Yuri's purpose; faint shadow lined his eyes.
Yuri smiled confidently for him.
Debate dragged.
"So territories with spare knights send more..."
"What's 'spare' mean!"
"Taxes, obviously..."
Yuri raised his hand.
Shouters fell silent one by one.
"...decide..."
The noble's trailing words hung.
Gazes gathered, Yuri spoke.
"I'll go."
Nobles stared blankly.
"I'm going."
Eyes widened then.
Yuri stood.
"I'll join the Allied Forces myself. So show some sincerity. Don't shame Brioll's name—fulfill your noble duty."
The third prince, just eighteen, not yet of age, declared war.
As stunned nobles gaped, only Fiore responded.
"I wish you fortune in battle, my son."