Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Translation: godsn
"You know. The current king's only sister, who's supposedly so wrapped up in curses that she devoured her own parents."
"Curses?"
"Was it ten years ago? The late king and queen died on their way to visit their young daughter. The king perished, and a nearly won war turned to nothing. For a while, everyone was buzzing that it was all the princess's fault."
The man snorted.
Though Valdina was renowned for its small but valiant military, it seemed intelligence wasn't their strong suit.
To make such a fuss over a mere child.
"And you believe that?"
"Well, not exactly, but the timing is too coincidental."
Gallo shrugged his shoulders.
"I thought fools only existed in Valdina."
"That's too harsh."
Gallo clutched his chest in mock offense, putting on an exaggerated act.
"A curse..."
A silhouette reflected on the glass window.
The shadow, turned away from the sunlight, stretched long across the floor.
"People talk so much about curses they've never even seen."
The tip of the shadow trembled slightly.
"Your Highness—no, Boss. I—"
Gallo's lips, which had been forming a playful smile, froze like stone.
The man lowered his head. His fingertips had turned deathly pale.
"Your Highness, what shall we do?"
Three years ago, Cesare, the First Prince of the Kazen Empire, massacred the Kikweg tribe on the empire's outskirts.
It was during the annexation of small kingdoms encroaching on the empire's southern borders.
"Those Kikweg bastards were completely insane. They were capturing people left and right to sacrifice to some unheard-of evil god they wanted to summon. And get this—after the rituals, they'd roast and eat the sacrifices! Said it was to properly absorb their resentment."
There was no mercy left for those who had lost even the most basic human dignity.
"Burn them all."
Silver blades and shields were splattered with dark crimson blood.
The power of the evil god the Kikweg worshipped couldn't evade spear and sword.
Fields, villages, temples.
Flames roared from every place where murder and cannibalism had been as routine as eating meals.
"Aaagh! You black-hearted fiend! Not even a demon could be more vicious than you! The vast Primordial Darkness will never forgive you! Do you feel no fear?!"
The so-called chieftain screamed with bloodshot eyes.
"Not a black-hearted fiend—Cesare. Tell your god not to forget the name of this land's master."
Cesare snorted from atop his restless horse.
His words, claiming even the Kikweg's evil god beneath him, were utterly arrogant.
Yet no one could deny it.
That this sun-like, majestic youth would become master of this vast empire.
"Cesare! The blood in your body will grow cold like your blue eyes, your heart will harden black like your head! Though your dazzling talent and ambition may fulfill every wish and slay every foe—"
The black smoke conjured by the chieftain lashed around Cesare like a whip.
"At the very least, your withering flesh will not be spared!"
"Your Highness!"
And when Cesare awoke, the chieftain's curse had taken hold.
The sword that once felled enemies faster than the wind slowed. His beast-like reflexes dulled noticeably.
Occasionally, coughing fits of blood would leave his entire body stiff as stone, losing consciousness.
When the third fit struck, Cesare had no choice but to admit it.
That since the day he exterminated the Kikweg, something within him had changed.
The military physician said:
"Your Highness's body is undergoing petrification. At this rate, you have three years at most."
But he refused to believe.
He sought out physicians reputed as the finest on the continent.
"A disease where the entire body gradually cools and hardens... Kill me now—even I, called the Divine Physician, have never heard of such a thing."
All shook their heads in dismay.
Cesare went to the Holy Kingdom.
There, he sought out priests renowned for their powerful Holy Power.
"A most vicious curse indeed. I sense the Primordial Darkness within Your Highness."
"My apologies. Even if you kill me and wage war upon the Holy Kingdom, it would be impossible. The planes are different. No amount of Holy Power can affect what is of the Primordial."
The answer gained by pressing a blade to the Pope's chin couldn't be false.
While scouring every possible method to erase the Primordial Darkness, the Kikweg's curse progressed slowly but steadily.
"Long live His Highness the First Prince!"
Another fit struck during the triumphant return ceremony.
"Your Highness!"
Rumors spread across the empire that the First Prince had contracted a terminal illness during the war.
The Emperor suspected another scheme, doubting his son's intentions.
His brothers rejoiced at the fall of their most formidable rival.
"How pathetic."
A curse should at least be worthy of the name.
It had to be powerful enough to bring down the soaring heavens—only then could it dare to bear such a title.
"Well, it's true. Even with those outstanding cavalrymen, Valdina is still in this sorry state for a reason."
Gallo's face brightened again, as if nothing had happened.
"Anyway, it seems the princess, who was hated inside and out, has finally awakened. Her momentum is good, but can she really keep the Head Maid under her thumb till the end?"
A mischievous glint rippled in Gallo's tawny eyes.
"Boss, should we keep an eye on the Princess Palace too? It's been a while since we've had something this entertaining."
"Are you that bored?"
The icy question made Gallo instinctively hunch his shoulders.
"Have you found the Shadeia Prophetess yet?"
"Ah, still tracking her. But the last place she visited was definitely here in Valdina. Her trail vanished near the border."
Around the time every method to lift the curse had failed, one priest had muttered something.
"If it's the Shadeia Prophetess... she might know a way to eradicate the Primordial Darkness. They say they can read ancient texts written in the Primordial Light."
Was this what it felt like to clutch at straws?
Yet it was the only possibility left.
Disguised as a weapon merchant, Cesare had traveled across the continent searching for the Shadeia Prophetess.
"Is that all?"
"That's harsh. You think it's easy to track down someone from a tribe that was wiped out ages ago? Even the Pope and the previous Emperor gave up after exhausting all options."
Gallo's cheeks puffed out indignantly.
"Such a sharp tongue."
"Damn it, we've combed through every inch from the Valdina border, so she must be inside this Royal Castle! I'd bet my neck on it. Satisfied?"
He raised his voice. Cesare's eyes narrowed slightly, as if annoyed by the noise.
"You'd better be right. If not—"
Polish your neck well. Cesare's gaze turned frigid.
"Ah, got it! I said I got it!"
Spooked by the ominous threat, Gallo scrambled to his feet.
"Oh, and Boss, you know about the palace entry this week, right? Don't forget your mask when you leave."
As he stepped out, Gallo tapped the table. On it lay a silver half-mask.
"Annoying as it is, you can't forget. If Siseo finds out your real identity, all that old affection won't stop him from trying to split us in half."
Cesare glanced down at the mask.
"Do you hate covering your face that much?"
"......"
Once that silver plate was fastened, he would no longer be the First Prince of Kazen, who kept the entire continent on edge, but just another mercenary under the weapon merchant Facade.
Why did that fleeting sense of freedom leave such a bitter taste?
"Boss, deep down, you think your face is your best asset, don't you? Must be annoying to hide such a masterpiece—"
"Too long. As always."
"Yikes, I'm going! I said I'm leaving! Gah!"
Gallo hastily shut the door behind him, his tongue firmly clenched between his perfectly shaped lips.
A finely honed dagger flew past and embedded itself in the closed door—right at the height where Gallo's mouth had been.
The remaining dagger in Cesare's fingertips spun gracefully in an elegant arc.
Princess Palace.
"So you're telling me you just stood there and watched the Princess leave?"
A woman's shriek reverberated through the palace.
"It—it was so sudden, she just rushed out—"
The maids stood in a row, bowing their heads as they endured her tantrum.
Her blazing crimson hair, paired with delicate but fiercely contorted features, resembled smoldering branches.
Mariyu. Medeia's most trusted maid.
Tightly cinched in the latest fashionable dress, she looked less like a princess's attendant and more like a noblewoman fresh from a ball.
'How long have I waited to see him again! If he's injured, he should stay in bed and recover, not get up and wander around!'
The thought of the Princess's foolish face only stoked her fury.
"I told you to keep track of where she goes and report back immediately! Did you or didn't you?!"
Her vicious hand struck the bowed maid's cheek repeatedly.
"Huh?! Do you all want to be thrown out?! Get! Your! Act! Together?!"
The biggest reason Mariyu could throw such fits was that she was the daughter of the Princess's former wet nurse.
When the wet nurse passed away, entrusting her daughter to the Princess, Medeia had wept, declaring Mariyu as dear as a sister, even closing the wet nurse's eyes with her own hands.
"What do we do? If something happens to Her Highness while we were all away—"
"Shut your mouth!"
Unable to contain her rage, she grabbed a vase, ready to hurl it—
"Her Highness the Princess—!"
A maid with flames in her eyes spotted an approaching figure and quickly called out.
"Your Highness, where have you been? It's freezing outside!"
Then, realizing the Princess had arrived, Mariyu swiftly changed her expression and turned around. She hurried toward the Princess with quick, skipping steps—only to halt abruptly at the bewildering sight before her, her eyes widening in shock.