My Prince -2-
A cold gaze pierced right through me. Malik's flustered expression. Hanna in tears. And then...
"What did you just say?"
Rowen Histania, completely unhinged. A stinging pressure radiated from him, as if to prove he was the empire's strongest. The overwhelming killing intent bore down on my shoulders, directed straight at me.
I flashed a wry smile and met Rowen's eyes. 'I can handle this.' Maybe enduring the genuine killing intent from that young lady when I took her chocolate had toughened me up for training—Rowen's pressure was bearable.
-Damn it! Don't dodge!
-Miss, that fork just now... it felt laced with murderous intent.
-Argh...! You're pissing me off, Ricardo!
-Even so, directing killing intent at your butler? That's a bit much.
-Then don't dodge!
-It's too slow for that...
-Arrrrrgh!!!
I'd decided to gift that young lady some chocolate as thanks for helping with my training. Shaking off Rowen's pressure, I brushed the dust from my pants.
Malik shot me a furrowed, bewildered look, but I smiled nonchalantly and addressed Rowen. "I overstepped with my lecture."
"You know that, so why say it?"
"For the happy retirement of Histania family head?"
Rowen furrowed his brow. "...Are you playing word games right now?"
I shook my head. "Word games? No, it's sincere advice."
"If you keep this up into your old age, no one will even visit your grave in a sunny spot."
Rowen replied coldly to my earnest advice. It seemed my sincerity hadn't gotten through. "...You want to die?"
I answered his question seriously. "No."
Rowen's expression chilled further. My honest desire not to die hadn't reached him either. I conveyed my sincerity to Rowen once more. "I really don't want to die."
The pressure emanating from Rowen grew vicious. Rowen Histania of the Histania family. A stubborn swordsman with unyielding convictions as steadfast as Mikhail, who saw the world as a bed of flowers. He believed his choices were right, proven by his self-made success. He was the type of person I despised most.
And yet, one I had to acknowledge for his achievements. His success wasn't a lie.
Still, I hated Rowen. 'Because he made Hanna cry.'
That's why I stood before him. The ceiling collapse wasn't some fateful accident. It stemmed from me losing my screw when I heard Hanna crying and smashing through the ceiling.
Hanna was my first disciple. Our bond started over money, but we'd built trust through tears and laughter—a true master-disciple relationship. She was also like a lifesaver, introducing me to her patron, Malik. I couldn't stand Rowen talking down to Hanna, who would one day become an excellent patron after Malik. To protect my lifeline, I stood here under the guise of coincidence.
Rowen eyed me. Once at the Tirbing in his hand. Once at the red aura blooming around it. His pupils narrowed rapidly.
Not content with stealing the demonic sword from the mansion, this impudent thief was brazenly offering advice. Rowen spoke in a cold voice. "I won't kill you. But I'll cut off that arrogant tongue."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than Hanna's sword, fallen to the floor, began to float lightly. A technique from wuxia novels. Sword control through qi? No—this manipulated ambient mana with his own aura.
A performance high-level martial artists used to crush an opponent's will. 'I can beat you without even drawing my sword.' Pure confidence.
'Crazy bastard.'
Feeling the swordmaster's prowess firsthand, I let out a hollow chuckle and took a step toward Rowen.
Whoosh.
Rowen's floating sword sliced through the air, halting right before my throat. It stopped at a finger's width, a lethal warning. I smiled calmly at the blade and said, "Is this how you judge talent?"
Tests the limits of the demonic sword Tirbing's unique ability Nullification.
Clang.
With the sound, Rowen's sword dropped to the floor. His eyes wavered. "What did you...?"
I shrugged. "Just showing off a trick."
Not something I could use often. It put too much strain on my body. Hiding my trembling hand, I stepped past Rowen's fallen sword. As calmly as possible. As if I wasn't scared. I had to fool myself for Rowen to buy it.
I couldn't beat Rowen as I was now. Unless I pulled out every hidden opportunity, fighting an unprepared swordmaster barehanded was like an egg against a rock.
But this crude trick was enough to plant doubt. I wanted to create an atmosphere for talk. That was my way to "win" against Rowen. Once he doubted my power even slightly, it would turn to conviction.
The Rowen before me was doubting. In his eyes, I probably looked like this: 'On my level... or higher.'
The stealth potion that hid my presence. Tirbing making his sword control fizzle powerlessly. My calm expression—they combined to break his momentum.
As Rowen shifted to a defensive stance, I seized the advantage and stared him down. "I've disliked you from the start. A divorced guy, more handsome than me, with that mouth of yours. But what bothered me most..."
"..."
"...was telling my precious disciple to give up the sword. Something like that."
Hanna's eyes widened at my words. Once at "disciple." She choked up and bowed her head at "precious." I gave her a bittersweet smile. 'Should've said it sooner.'
Regret tinged my view of her trembling shoulders, but Rowen, listening, didn't take it that way. His expression complex, he shot back, "Not your business."
"And definitely not the Histania family head's... I mean, no interest in parent-teacher conferences."
"Enough games. Last warning."
"Does this feel like a game?"
I stared straight at Rowen and repeated the words he'd once said to Hanna, right back at him. "The 'talent' you speak of..."
"..."
"Isn't that your own shortcoming?"
"What...?"
"Eyes that can't recognize Hanna's talent. Even a young punk like me sees it—how could a knight commander miss it? That's what's strange."
"Say it again. This time, I'll rip that mouth off."
"Aigoo, scary."
Rowen's face twisted in real time. At "pathetic," he unleashed ferocious aura, his pressure choking the air as if bystanders didn't matter.
The more he raged, the deeper my words dug into his chest. You insulted my disciple, so you get the same.
"A pathetic father who can't even remember his daughter's birthday."
"Even slicing open the golden goose... Ha, what madness."
Like the archbishop of regret who shattered Rowen's heart after losing Hanna in the novel. I poked at his nerves.
"You should've done at least one right. Truth is, talent's what you're lacking, isn't it?"
"Shut up."
"Shutting up takes talent too. I lack that one. Haha..."
I began leaking red aura from my feet upward. Superior in aura control, I gradually overrode Rowen's. A possessor's techniques produced magic-like dominance.
Original knowledge. System aid. Childhood efforts. Combined, they created a stunning performance.
Crunch...
With a grinding roar, Rowen's golden aura enveloping the room was overtaken by mine. Cracks spiderwebbed the walls. The mansion shook. Rowen's eyes trembled wide.
I looked at his panicked face. "This is what it means to have talent, isn't it?"
"...Impossible."
"I'm an impossible existence."
Rowen's eyes shook. He was witnessing the most perfect aura operation he'd ever seen. Aura wrapping the entire mansion without mana waste—beautiful as art to an aspiring strongest swordsman. Knowing that, I lifted my chin arrogantly.
"Ease up on my disciple from now on. It's interfering with her studies."
"..."
"Any complaints... send a letter. Oh, and."
I muttered to Rowen. "The Histania family head could start with humility."
Funny, coming from me—the furthest from humble. But anyway. I took Hanna's hand. Ice-cold. Drip. A tear fell onto the back of my hand.
"Is it true...?" Hanna whispered shakily. "Am I really precious to you, butler?"
I glanced at Rowen behind me and smiled. "Yes. Of course."
Hanna's face flushed crimson. Her heart pounded wildly.
The young lady's mansion, peaceful as ever. Facing the pitch-black Tirbing, she wore an enigmatic expression.
"Wanna touch it."
"Touch it and you'll get zapped."
"...You stole it?"
"No. Malik gave it to me."
The young lady's head sprouted question marks. "Malik?"
"Owner of Forest Friend."
"...Oh, nice guy. Get friendly from now on."
"Got it."
The young lady nodded and addressed Tirbing. "You're pretty. Looks like chocolate."
I told her, "That's dark chocolate—super bitter."
"Hiet!"
Olivia yanked her hand back from Tirbing in shock. She declared firmly. "Zap."
I smiled faintly at her. "Yes, zap."
Watching this, Hanna sighed deeply. "Seriously, a demonic sword..."
I smiled gently at Hanna. "Want to touch it, Miss Hanna? A quick touch won't drive you mad."
Hanna sighed again. "No..."
He felt too big for her to handle. But... everything about him seemed precious in her eyes. Clenching her fists, Hanna whispered softly.
"I... like you."
A small spark of courage as Hanna discovered love.