The 6th Princess and the Cerberk Youngest
Ir ia Repelheim.
The title of sixth imperial princess among the emperor’s children was one that made her position in the succession struggle seem infinitely distant.
Right now, the front-runners among those fighting for the right to succeed were the first and third princes—Ir ia herself was an afterthought.
Yet Ir ia Repelheim possessed her own weapon.
It was none other than her mother.
Barber Cordiola.
“Ir ia.”
“…Yes. Mother.”
“At tonight’s banquet, try to meet as many people as you can. Strengthen your support base and overtake the two princes already leading the race.”
“Understood.”
Barber Cordiola.
Originally the daughter of a minor baron family, she had been elevated to empress overnight when a strategic and luxurious resource called mithril was discovered in her province. The emperor himself had come to inspect the mine and, enchanted by her beauty, had chosen her as his empress.
Sixteen years earlier, when she became empress, she gave birth to one child—Iria Repelheim.
Thanks to her mother’s striking resemblance to the emperor, Ir ia’s own appearance was nothing short of dazzling.
A few nobles had already begun casting longing glances in her direction.
Meanwhile, as the two mother and daughter exchanged a few words, Emperor Baor Repelheim stepped onto the stage set up in one corner of the banquet hall and began his address.
“Regarding the founding anniversary of my empire, the Repelheim Empire…”
While the speech began, Ir ia casually scanned the room.
The way male nobles turned away with embarrassed expressions upon meeting her gaze was oddly amusing, so she kept looking around.
Then she locked eyes with a certain boy.
…Not even trying to avoid me?
Strange.
A boy who would rather look into her eyes instead of averting them despite her striking beauty.
And in his gaze, instead of the adoration she expected, something else flickered—something darker.
…How interesting?
Ir ia found herself unconsciously curving her lips into a faint smile.
***
The Iron-Blood Empress…
Luke Cerberk stared at Ir ia Repelheim and recalled the girl from Sacred Souls.
In that bleak dark-fantasy world, she had been one of the last beacons of light.
She had hunted down the heretical cult that worshipped the evil gods and fought alongside them to stabilize the empire.
Yet no matter which route she took, the ending was rarely kind.
She might become the cult’s prey.
Or her head might roll in a distant rebellion and she would die before she could finish her life as empress.
Even the endings where she survived were grim.
Of course, the true culprit behind every tragedy was the evil gods that lurked on the western continent.
…Which route should I aim for? My instincts are telling me it’s not clear.
Even Go Jungwoo’s hard-earned knowledge suggested that the path ahead for Ir ia was far from bright.
In Sacred Souls, the brighter the light a character possessed, the deeper they sank into darkness until they were completely devoured.
But even so, there was no reason to shrink back.
She was here now because she had come to rewrite that future.
…Huh?
While he had been watching her for some time, their eyes met.
Luke did not look away. After all, they would have to face each other sooner or later. Seeding even a small impression this way was not a bad idea.
She stared at him for a moment, then offered a soft smile at the corner of her mouth before turning her gaze elsewhere.
What was that?
Luke shrugged.
I hope I left at least some mark on her.
He turned his attention back to the emperor’s speech.
***
Once the speech ended, the banquet resumed in full swing.
Nobles crowded around the emperor, eager to offer greetings and discuss state matters.
Even though it was a banquet, this was nothing less than a battlefield—or a political chessboard.
Luke’s eyes naturally drifted toward Ir ia.
Her mother, Barber, was introducing her to several nobles, and Ir ia handled each of them with perfect poise.
Yet the nobles around her seemed, by comparison, far less influential than those aligned with the first and third princes.
Still, a few nobles from the princes’ side were clearly displeased with Ir ia and her mother.
…That’s the situation.
Luke estimated the size of the nobles clustered around the two princes.
Ir ia’s political power was still modest.
That meant opportunity lay just around the corner.
But I have nothing to offer either. The only thing I possess is the title of the youngest son of the Cerberk Ducal Family—and the weakest position at that.
He would have to turn the tables.
And Luke already knew how.
Opportunity will come. For now, the only thing I can do is make sure my presence is noticed.
He approached Ir ia with measured steps.
***
“Good evening.”
Ir ia had been greeting guests when she was greeted by a rather unusual young man.
He looked a bit too young to be attending a banquet—perhaps only about thirteen or fourteen.
“I am Luke Cerberk, the youngest son of the Cerberk Ducal Family.”
“…Hmm.”
Her mother, Barber, leaned in and whispered.
“The youngest son of the Cerberk family. He’s said to have talent, but given his position as the youngest, you probably won’t need to speak with him for long…”
Before Barber could finish, Ir ia turned to Luke and offered her greeting.
“Hello. I am Ir ia Repelheim.”
“…Ir ia.”
Barber’s face tightened slightly as she shot her daughter a meaningful glance.
Ir ia simply winked at her mother and said, “Just a moment.”
…You.
A subtle tension passed between the mother and daughter, and finally they began to speak in hushed voices.
“A moment ago, when I entered, we met eyes, didn’t we?”
“…You remember?”
“I have quite a good memory, you know.”
With a confident smile, she asked Luke.
“So… were you simply coming to ask me for a dance?”
“…No.”
She took one step forward and met his gaze.
“Then tell me. What do you want?”
Luke nodded.
“Today, there will come a moment when you might need me.”
“Hmm…?”
“When that time arrives, you’ll understand naturally. Can you promise to call for me then?”
“…You are an enigmatic person. Is that all your business?”
“Yes. I will deliver this much for now.”
“Hmm…”
A faint trace of disappointment lingered in her eyes.
“If that moment never comes, I might be slightly disappointed. The way you looked at me was different from the others. That part did appeal to me.”
She waved lightly, bidding him farewell.
“Until next time. Enjoy the rest of the banquet.”
“Understood.”
Luke bowed respectfully and stepped back.
“Ir ia. You were told to listen to your mother’s words…”
“…Mother.”
Ir ia withdrew the curious gaze she had sent toward Luke and turned her eyes to her mother, Barber.
“I am a princess. Even if I am the sixth, that does not matter.”
Ir ia lifted the corner of her mouth in a small smile.
“I simply want you to remember that. Mother.”
***
Ir ia is the kind of girl who keeps a close eye on her mother, who wants to use her as a puppet and wield her behind the scenes.
Water. Water.
I could have touched on that, but with Barber Cordiola standing right beside me, I couldn’t say it outright…
Water. Water.
The best approach is simply to drop a hint about the matter that will happen tonight.
Swallow. Swallow.
After eating, Luke sipped juice and waited for the right moment.
Time dragged, yet the imperial food was excellent, so the evening was far from unpleasant.
While watching the banquet, Luke’s gaze suddenly caught on someone.
…Terre noona… Wait, who’s the man with her?
Far across the hall, he spotted the crimson-haired woman, Terre Serverki.
And she was talking to a man.
The man was…
Shion Belhardt…? The First Sword of the Empire?
Shion Belhardt, the First Sword of the Empire.
In the original story, he had come to the slum city of Stygna to challenge Nia to a verbal sword debate.
He had lost and murdered her, then manipulated her into forming a contract with the evil gods.
In short, the so-called First Sword of the Empire.
But Luke knew the man’s true identity.
…A swordsman created by the Belhardt ducal family. And… tied to them somehow.
While Luke recalled the details, Terre’s eyes suddenly turned toward him.
…Huh?
Their gazes met.
“Luke!”
She called his name.
***
“Lord Belhardt, this is my younger brother, Luke Cerberk.”
“Oh… It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Shion Belhardt was a middle-aged man with a gentle, affable appearance.
He laughed heartily and welcomed Luke, and the conversation naturally began.
“Heh heh. I heard that the youngest son of the Cerberk family is quite skilled. Nice to meet you, Luke.”
“The honor is mine, Lord Belhardt.”
“I was just lightly discussing swordsmanship with Miss Serverki. Would you be interested in joining our conversation, Luke?”
“…I’m not sure if I should dirty your ears with my answer.”
“Heh heh! It’s fine. After all, one cannot always say only the correct answer, can they?”
With a kind laugh, he continued.
“Miss Serverki has excellent sword cultivation. I’ve learned a great deal from her.”
“No, Lord Belhardt. I am still quite immature…”
“Heh heh! You have no need to belittle your own abilities!”
Shion Belhardt kept speaking, and Luke watched him with a growing sense of unease.
This man… I remember. He’s connected to the evil gods.
Possibly even the final boss.
Even as he stared at the man, Belhardt’s voice continued.
As the First Sword of the Empire spoke, more people gradually gathered around him.
The crowd grew, and Belhardt’s voice grew louder.
Meanwhile, Luke waited in silence.
Now.
Now…?
BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
At that moment, the wall on one side of the banquet hall erupted in a massive fireball and collapsed in an instant.
While everyone was still processing the explosion, robed figures burst through the debris.
“Terrorists! Terrorists!!”
A noble’s voice echoed across the hall, and everyone finally understood the situation.
It was a terrorist attack in the heart of the capital, right in front of the imperial palace.