Chapter 141
Chapter 141
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 140
Chapter Title: Crown Prince Alondre (8) - Power Balance Adjustment
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Bellaria was by no means a utopian land brimming with dreams and hope.
But objectively speaking, at least in terms of public safety, it was superior to other nations in the central continent.
Due to its isolated basin terrain, there weren't many places to flee in an emergency, but conversely, the risk of invaders from outside was low.
Like any inhabited place, petty crimes weren't entirely absent, but there were scarcely any who made crime their full-time profession.
"There are a lot of dangerous guys around here. A young lady like you wandering alone could run into big trouble—how about traveling with us? Huh?"
"Heh heh heh, yeah, yeah. We don't need much in return, so relax!"
Thus, Grace's first impression upon encountering bandits after leaving Bellaria was this:
'No way, they actually showed up.'
Grace had heard about bandits and mountain outlaws from tavern keepers' grumblings or elders' tales from their youth, but hearing stories and experiencing it firsthand were worlds apart.
Unaware that Grace was staring at them like ghosts that had truly emerged from a haunted spot, the bandits grinned lecherously.
"Looks like the lady's scared."
"Who wouldn't be, seeing your ugly mug!"
"Hey, it's not because of my smell, is it?"
"Can't have that. We've gotta savor this scent from now on!"
Discarding even their initial flimsy pretext, the bandits cackled among themselves, spewing obscenities.
They acted as if Grace were already in their grasp, leaving her baffled at what could possibly be going through their heads.
'Maybe nothing at all.'
Common sense dictated that a lone woman traveling empty roads without companions must have something substantial backing her.
Yet their failure to consider that and premature victory laps revealed a profound lack of brains and experience.
So, what now?
Grace pondered briefly.
Truth be told, she had plenty of options.
She could sprout vines at their feet right now and summon those tentacles that only carnivorous plants enjoyed, or slip away invisibly like she had in the city.
Or enhance her body with holy power and deliver a physical slap.
"Hm?"
That was when a peculiar dust cloud appeared in the corner of Grace's vision.
A sidelong glance revealed it was a carriage.
But on closer inspection, something was off.
For starters, it wasn't on a paved road but racing across a grassy field littered with weeds and gravel.
Normally, a carriage would falter or halt in such terrain, unable to reach full speed. Yet this one charged ahead without hesitation.
And at an astonishing pace.
Carriages weren't inherently fast to begin with.
No matter how swift and strong the horses, hauling a massive frame loaded with passengers and cargo limited their potential.
Variations existed by breed and load, but on average, they were just a bit faster than a walking person.
On unpaved paths like this, speed would drop even more. That was normal.
But this carriage defied all that, hurtling forward like the wind itself.
"Huh? What's that?"
"Something's coming."
The bandits, who had been snickering, noticed it a beat later and turned with tense expressions.
Some gripped weapons in anticipation of a fight, but Grace paid no mind.
Now wasn't the time for such trivialities.
...Is my vision glitching? It looks like a person, not horses, pulling the carriage?'
Grace rubbed her eyes repeatedly, but the sight didn't change.
As she floundered in confusion, the carriage reached them and came to a halt.
"Hoo."
The girl who had been pulling it exhaled lightly.
Her face had a youthful cuteness. Sparkling golden eyes and long black hair tied in a ponytail.
Notable was the sword hilt dangling at her waist like an ornament. She bowed slightly to the gawking onlookers and said,
"Ah, hold on a sec. Someone's coming out right now."
No need to ask what.
With a clunk, the carriage door swung open, and another girl stepped down.
"Hng."
She exuded a chilling aura, almost harsh. Green eyes that betrayed no inner thoughts, and bright orange long hair.
A large book tucked into a holster at her waist was her standout feature. She flipped through a sheaf of papers, pausing at one page.
"Morrison of the Cross Scar. Extortion, murder, kidnapping and rape. Slave trading. Hard to tell if you're human or goblin."
"W-what the hell are you brats?!"
Startled by the orange-haired girl's words, one dazed bandit snarled loudly.
He bore a prominent cross scar on his smooth-shaven head, clearly their leader by the vibe.
The black-haired girl stepped forward.
"Um, any chance you'd consider surrendering? Your crimes are pretty bad, so you can't avoid punishment, but maybe we could lighten it to hard labor instead of execution."
Her cheek-scratching sincerity fell on deaf ears; the bandits took it as provocation.
"Hah, you think I'm a retard?! What're you waiting for? Get 'em!"
At their boss's bellow, the dozen or so bandits drew sharp weapons and assumed combat stances.
The black-haired girl gripped her sword hilt in response, prompting incredulous looks from the bandits.
Some even twirled fingers by their temples in mockery.
"This crazy bitch is totally insane...?"
The jeerer's words trailed off abruptly.
Wuuuung!
A deep blue aura surged intensely, forming a blade where none existed—a sight so overwhelming it instinctively screamed danger, even to empty-headed thugs.
Shaaak!
As the aura blade slashed the air, countless petals scattered along its path.
The petals drifted with purpose, touching the bandits' weapons and erasing them like rubber on paper.
Most bandits froze as their arms reverted to bare flesh. Only the sharp ones, like the boss, bolted—but they didn't get far.
Flutter.
The orange-haired girl's book opened, mysterious text floating to weave its spell.
Despite frantic legs, the bandits stayed rooted, faces paling blue.
In under ten seconds, the duo had crushed the entire band. They turned to Grace.
Facing their hesitant gazes, as if pondering how to respond, Grace rummaged in her pouch and pulled out her wallet.
"Any empty seats in the carriage? I can pay the fare."
The hero, the sage, and the saintess's first encounter—a scene far too unglamorous for a heroic tale.
Eisen Empire. Capital Calastia. The crown prince's residence, Golden Cloud Palace.
Stare.
Lucidra stared at the crown prince. He continued his paperwork.
Stare.
Lucidra stared at the crown prince. He diligently stamped documents.
Stare.
Lucidra stared at the crown prince. He sipped his black tea.
Stare.
Lucidra stared at the crown prince...
"...Argh, seriously! I can't take it anymore!! If a person gives off major 'I have something to say!' vibes while staring at your face, shouldn't you react somehow!? How can you ignore it for over three hours?!"
Lucidra flapped her black wings furiously in rage.
The crown prince tilted his head at her outburst.
"Was that meant to signal you had something to say?"
"Why else would someone stare at your face?!"
"That's a rather narrow assumption. Plenty of people spend a day or two lost in a daze, gazing at my face. They just rarely get the chance."
"......"
Even a former archdemon couldn't stop thinking, 'What an annoyingly lucky bastard.'
His smug, polished face only made it more convincing—and infuriating.
"So, what is it you want to say?"
"About what you did this time. Planning to repeat it?"
"Hm?"
The crown prince pondered briefly before realizing and denying it.
"No, swapping the real body with a clone won't happen lightly. This time was a series of overextensions as it is."
He was the empire's crown prince.
His schedule was packed solid; normally, he couldn't even walk the streets alone.
This very office was guarded by knights and servants beyond the door, with aides constantly delivering new tasks.
Lucidra claimed three hours of staring, but she'd hidden in his shadow whenever others entered. In truth, they were alone for barely an hour at most.
Couldn't he fool eyes with a clone while the real him roamed? Easier said than done.
The empire had those who sensed clones' oddity on sight—two were even his mentors.
This time alone had required painstaking scheduling to avoid such experts.
Leveraging Lucidra's teleportation and over a week of prep, his real-body escapades lasted mere scraps of time.
No wonder he vanished without a word post-guardian deity subjugation.
"Well, that's fine then."
Satisfied with his answer, Lucidra smiled faintly.
"So, what about the next clone? Last time a demon, this time a god—next up, toppling some wild transcendent?"
"I couldn't guarantee victory over a true transcendent even personally, let alone via clone. Besides, I can't invest so heavily in clones for a while."
The crown prince gazed languidly out the window.
"The switch went undetected this time, but some likely felt faint unease. Eyes will scrutinize my every move more than usual, so I'll dial back resources on clones for now."
"Won't that cause problems?"
"Not all clones need to be powerhouses. At least three will rely on non-combat specialties to fulfill roles."
"What if one drops dead somewhere?"
"I'll strive to prevent that, but some things are inevitable, no?"
His nonchalant demeanor prompted Lucidra to silently offer condolences to unseen future victims.
Truly, this monstrous crown prince lacked a touch of humanity.