Chapter 66
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: It's Not for You to Decide
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(3)
5.
The imperial palace of the Ruben Empire was renowned across the continent for its grandeur, as if flaunting its status as the mightiest power.
Its sheer size was staggering—its area alone surpassed that of many a kingdom's capital.
And that was just the beginning.
The interior was far more opulent than it appeared from outside, as if every castle and mansion had been built from treasures of gold and silver.
There was, however, one exception.
At the northern edge of the palace grounds stood a modest forest.
It resembled a miniature transplant of the eastern rainforests. And now, a visitor had arrived.
A man in his mid-thirties.
With platinum blond long hair and reddish-brown eyes, he had a gentle, affable demeanor. Trailing behind him like a guardian was a middle-aged knight.
Thud. Thud.
He headed toward the forest's heart.
Though thorns snagged his fine cloak here and there, he paid them no mind.
How much time passed?
After pushing through the dense underbrush and reaching his destination, a faint melody suddenly reached his ears.
"―――."
A song without lyrics.
Listening quietly brought a sense of calm. Perhaps that's why he stopped and savored it in silence.
Time flowed on, not short.
Once the tune ended, he smiled faintly and clapped his hands.
"Still as masterful as ever."
No sooner had he spoken than the girl perched on a rock across a small pond at the forest's center whipped her head around.
A girl with snow-white hair and crimson eyes. Seeing her enigmatic aura, the man chuckled softly.
"Perticia."
The seventh princess of the Ruben Empire.
Perticia Eve al Ruben. To the man, she was a beloved little sister, despite their age gap.
"Ah, big brother!"
With his arrival, she leaped down from the rock in surprise, then hurried toward him before halting abruptly.
There was one reason. She'd spotted the middle-aged knight standing like a statue behind him. She quickly changed her address.
"What brings Your Highness here...?"
It was only natural.
The man's name was Shartran Monic al Ruben.
Crown Prince of the Ruben Empire, soon to be its sovereign, above all others.
When alone, it might be different, but with a third party present, formality was proper.
Shartran, however, brushed it off.
"Haha, no need for such formality. I've only brought Sir Orden today."
"Yes! Then I won't stand on ceremony!"
If permitted, all was well.
Sir Orden was one of the Five Swords who had guarded the imperial family since before her birth—practically family.
At least to Perticia.
The siblings, who could pass for father and daughter at a glance, sat amicably on the rock and chatted idly.
Trivial matters of daily life. Then Shartran broached a new topic.
"By the way, I heard some interesting news."
"Really? What is it?"
"Do you remember the 'Grade 0 management target' that Grand Marshal Erkazan reported about?"
"The barbarian who enrolled at Arsen?"
"Yes. Apparently, that barbarian caused quite the commotion this time."
With a laughter-tinged remark.
Perticia swiftly cut in.
"If it's about him badly injuring Count Deorg's eldest son, I've already heard that."
"Of course. I told you myself. But what I brought today is different—new information."
Less than a month since the last incident, and another one?
Perticia tilted her head.
Shartran continued.
"Two swords have been broken."
"Swords... you mean?"
"The Sword of the Desert and the Sword of the Military. Two blades representing the Empire—they both fell to that barbarian in duels."
"...?!"
Her crimson eyes widened.
It was understandable. The two swords Shartran mentioned undoubtedly referred to two master swordsmen of the Empire.
But that shock was fleeting.
She tilted her head again, spotting something odd in his words.
"Huh? That's strange, though."
"What's strange?"
"Count Deorg aside, why would Marquis Gorfant duel...?"
Count Deorg had cause.
To restore his injured son's honor.
Marquis Gorfant lacked such pretext, piquing her curiosity.
"He was at the academy on Dean Berje's summons. Chances to clash with fellow masters are rare, so he took it."
A spot-on guess.
Shartran suddenly grinned mischievously and glanced at Sir Orden ten paces back.
"In that sense, didn't you want to join the fight too, Sir Orden? Rare chance for masters to clash."
"I have no such thoughts."
The firm denial came instantly.
Orden bowed his head.
"I am the sword that guards the imperial family. Petty worldly duels are beneath my concern."
"Tsk, just a joke. So rigid."
Shartran clicked his tongue softly.
Of course, he knew.
This loyal knight, Wachsen Yul Orden, sword of the imperial family, would never leave his post.
Conversation returned to the prior topic.
The Grade 0 target designated by the military, Ullan—and the duels with the Empire's masters. Perticia gasped in awe repeatedly.
"Wow, truly amazing. I heard he's just a year older than me—how does he have such power already...?"
"The world is vast, full of talent. Take you—you possess gifts incomparable to mine."
"No way. You're too kind."
Perticia smiled bashfully.
An endearing expression. Shartran's lips curved naturally.
"So, I'll give him to you."
"Pardon?"
"The military and Dean Berje are scheming to bring that barbarian into the Empire's fold soon. If successful, make him your knight."
Royals each had dedicated knights.
The Emperor and Crown Prince had the imperial swords like Sir Orden; other royals got top expert knights.
'But Perticia has none.'
More precisely, no knight willing to swear fealty to her.
Complicated circumstances made noble knights avoid the role.
'That barbarian is different.'
No ties to nobility.
Reports said he was unusually rational and level-headed for one.
Plus strength to defeat imperial masters. Properly tamed, he'd make a fine knight for her.
"Big brother, but I..."
"I know. You want to see and judge a knight candidate yourself."
"Hehe, you remembered."
"How could I forget? It's my little sister's request."
With a cheeky reply.
Shartran continued.
"Don't worry. It's early, but I've prepared a birthday gift for you."
"Huh? A birthday gift?"
Perticia blinked in confusion.
Then Wachsen approached from behind. He opened a small chest he'd prepared and handed it to her.
Seeing it.
"...!"
Her eyes bulged.
As if beholding the unexpected. Shartran grinned and went on.
"I've arranged your transfer to Arsen Academy starting next semester. See and judge with your own eyes..."
"Thank you, big brother! I'm so happy!"
Perticia threw herself into his arms.
Her voice trembling with emotion.
Understandable. Admission to Arsen was one of her long-held dreams.
Shartran silently stroked her hair. Soon, he added the unspoken condition.
"Of course, normal life won't be possible. Separate dorms, guards too. Still okay?"
"Yes! It's fine. I want to go!"
"Haha, alright. Look forward to it."
They chatted more cozily after.
How much time passed?
As evening dusk fell, Shartran finally left the forest, bid farewell by Perticia at the entrance.
On the way back to the palace.
Midst his silent strides, Wachsen cautiously spoke.
"Are you sure this is wise?"
"About what?"
"Even if Arsen is neutral ground, dangers lurk. Better to keep her by your side..."
"No, Arsen is safer."
Shartran stated flatly.
His eyes held unspoken resolve.
"This place will soon be a battlefield."
"...! You mean!"
"Sir Orden."
Shartran halted abruptly.
He spoke calmly.
"Tell everyone: The day Perticia leaves the palace will be their sole chance to prove their loyalty."
A response laced with firm determination.
The time has come at last.
Wachsen shuddered. Moments later, he bowed deeply.
"...I shall obey, Your Majesty."
A title markedly changed from before.
With a reply redolent of blood, Shartran resumed walking, backlit by an unusually crimson sunset.
6.
After the duels.
Ullan returned straight to his room.
Using transcendent realm consecutively had drained his Spirit and stamina.
Moreover, his muscles were considerably damaged—evident from the pains throughout.
'Two days' rest at least.'
By his past life's experience.
Another half-day bedridden before full recovery. Thinking so, he lay down upon entering.
But soon after.
His body suddenly heated up.
'This is...'
A startling phenomenon followed.
Muscle pain gradually eased, accumulated fatigue washed away. Depleted stamina rapidly recovered.
What was it? Puzzled, Ullan closed his eyes. He circulated residual Spirit to probe the cause.
And quickly realized.
'Power surges from the rune.'
The hero's rune engraved on his back.
This change stemmed from it. The realization triggered a memory.
「This rune boosts the owner's strength and agility when injured, and triggers explosive recovery when stamina depletes.」
Noa's explanation.
At the time, he'd half-doubted it.
'Naturally.'
No special blessing—just a back tattoo. How could it grant power and recovery?
So he'd let it go in one ear and out the other.
Experiencing it changed everything.
'To think it was real.'
Ullan marveled, eyes gleaming.
Half a day later, his condition vastly improved.
Muscle pain vanished, fatigue gone. Not all good, though.
"...Hot."
Explosive recovery was fine, but prolonged bodily heat left him sweltering.
Unable to endure more?
He shed his clothes haphazardly.
"Need to cool off."
He entered the bathroom, dousing himself in cold water. Feeling much better. Repeating this.
Knock knock!
Suddenly, the door was knocked.
A familiar voice followed.
"Ullan, it's me."
Noa. Her tone oddly stiff, she continued.
"May I come in for a moment?"
"Fine."
"Alright, excuse me..."
Noa entered.
But couldn't finish.
The bathroom visible right from the door. Ullan, naked, dousing himself—eyes met.
"...!?"
A silent scream.
Noa spun around.
She shook her head frantically, erasing the 'sight' from memory.
"Th-that's not fine at all!"
Face and ears beet red.
Hands covering her face, she stomped and yelled.
"No, more importantly, why shower with the door wide open?!"
"Hot."
"Even so! Put on clothes or close the door at least. H-hurry!"
Such demands from a sudden visitor.
Ullan grumbled, closing the bathroom door—leaving just a sliver for talk.
"Haa, really."
Noa exhaled held breath.
Fanning her flushed face, Ullan remarked casually.
"Your face is red."
"Whose fault is that?"
"Hot? Undress too."
"No way!"
She snapped back, face crimson.
Then Ullan asked again.
"Why are you here?"
"...Ah. Wait. I forgot."
"Surprisingly scatterbrained."
"Don't want to hear that from you."
Glancing at Ullan, Noa's eyes widened suddenly—as if recalling.
"Right. I had a question."
"What?"
"Ullan, before coming to the academy, did you secretly eat some elixir or something?"
Serious face, but absurd question. Ullan cocked his head.
"Elixir?"
"Herbs that boost strength, potions that raise mana, that sort."
"No memory of that."
"Really?"
"Really."
Ullan nodded.
Noa bit her lip. He didn't seem to lie.
'No, Ullan never lies anyway.'
He skipped explanations if lazy, but never falsified. Same in the original story.
'But how did he become a master so soon!'
Ten years ahead of the original!
Gaining Kazan didn't explain it. No matter how she racked her brain, the variable eluded her.
'Ask directly?'
About special events.
But she abandoned it. Instinct said even if true, he'd withhold.
'...Ullan doesn't trust me.'
Noa had many secrets.
So Ullan had said:
With so many hidden, and not sharing with comrades, hard for him to share 'his secrets'.
'Thought it casual then.'
Now, no. Uttering 'my secrets' meant he hid something too.
Back to square one.
Sighing in frustration.
Knock knock!
Another knock.
New visitor.
"Inspectors here. Pardon the intrusion."
Ullan's dedicated inspector.
Entering with his usual blank face. But the scene changed it.
"...What situation is this?"
Ullan naked showering.
Noa seated, peeking through cracked door.
Inspector grasped instantly.
"Voyeurism is an illness."
"N-no! Misunderstanding!"
"Also demerit-worthy."
"I said it's a misunderstanding!"
Noa protested vehemently.
Then a saving voice.
"What brings you today?"
Ullan.
Inspector averted from Noa, stated purpose.
"Count Deorg awoke."
"Already? Faster recovery than expected."
"Potions galore. Anyway, the Count wishes to see you. Said he has apologies."
The pre-duel promise.
Likely taking blame for Himmel and apologizing.
"Refuse if tired."
"No, I'll go."
Ullan shook head.
Post-duel he'd be weary, but now refreshed.
"Understood. Waiting downstairs."
Inspector turned.
As leaving, glared at Noa still eyeing bathroom.
"Noa Darshen, you're getting a demerit."
"Huh? No! Why?!"
"Sneaking peeks at a classmate bathing—shamelessness has limits."
"Misunderstanding!"
Noa shrieked.
Truly wronged.
But inspector issued the demerit before departing. After the commotion, she slumped.
"Ugh, I'll head out too..."
Came to check Ullan's master breakthrough—no gain, just demerit.
Turning weakly.
"Noa."
Ullan's voice stopped her.
"One request."
"Huh? Request?"
"Can you fetch Ivela?"
Odd, but Noa intuited.
"Hm, bring her to Count Deorg's sickroom?"
"Exactly."
Ullan grinned.
Quick on uptake—nice.
"No other messages?"
"None. That's it."
"Got it. On it."
After Noa left.
Ullan finally exited bathroom. Repeated cold dousings cooled him nicely.
Lighter body. Satisfied smile, he hurried to prepare.
Then.
[Grrr!]
Sudden massive shadow.
Familiar voice from behind—White Wolf's. Ullan turned, eyes widening slightly.
"Huge now."
As said, White Wolf exceeded wild horse size from pup-like form.
Something clicked.
White Wolf grew absorbing mana. Realizing, Ullan asked suspiciously.
"Absorbed all those?"
Deplin hut shelf mana stones.
Dozens of top-grade. White Wolf bared teeth grinning.
[Gring! Gring!]
Affirmative.
Makes sense for rapid growth. Ullan nodded, then frowned.
"But cohabiting will be tough."
Sitting alone took half the space. Time to return to forest.
About to tell it.
Whoosh!
White Wolf misted.
Soon back to small size. Surprised, Ullan asked.
"Size at will?"
[Grrring!]
"Handy ability."
Changes things.
Ullan chuckled. Roughly patted head, turned.
"Be back soon. Rest."
No reply.
It curled up, asleep instantly.
Mana feast induced sleep, likely. Ullan smiled, left White Wolf, exited room.
Meanwhile.
In Deplin hut, Zone 1 Mana Spring—her scream echoed.