Chapter 9
Chapter 9
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Chapter 4: Reveal (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Do I really have to say it myself? I’d rather hear it straight from you.”
Raymond spoke in a sharp tone. Perhaps convinced it wasn’t wrong, Desia parted her small, red lips.
“Your Highness the 5th Prince, is it true that you reached the level of a low-grade mage in just one week?”
So that’s what she was curious about? Just as expected. Desia Heli—she was of the Archmage’s bloodline. And she knew it herself.
Desia Heli is driven by a deep longing to reach the Archmage realm.
To revive her fallen family, she had to become an Archmage.
She was a genius mage who had reached the brink of mid-grade after just three years of study, yet she considered herself still lacking.
And then she met the 5th Prince—and lost.
I know the answer she wants.
It was simple, really.
“You’re asking if it’s true that I reached the low-grade mage level in just one week?”
He opened his mouth with a calm expression, watching her nod lightly in affirmation.
“It’s true. I sparred with you right around the point when I’d been properly learning magic for about a week.”
It was the answer she wanted. And it was the truth.
“Your Highness the 5th Prince, how did you do it?”
Her tone bordered on rude when addressing royalty, but it didn’t matter.
He could read the burning ambition for higher realms in her eyes.
“Do you want to know?”
He asked quietly.
Desia nodded without a word. At the end of her steadfast gaze was the 5th Prince, grinning from ear to ear.
What could possibly be so amusing?
“You’re not expecting it for free, are you?”
At those words, Desia recalled another name for the 5th Prince, and her face hardened.
The wastrel 5th Prince.
He might make unreasonable demands.
But if it means reaching a higher realm...
“Do as you wish.”
“Become one of my people, Desia Heli. I want you to join the Imperial Guard that will soon be formed.”
“I’m just a low-grade mage on the cusp of mid-grade.”
No matter how much of a wastrel he was, it was still the royal family’s guard. Did they even have a place for a mid-grade mage? That’s what Desia thought.
“Don’t misunderstand.”
The atmosphere shifted.
“I’m not making this offer to some mage teetering on mid-grade.”
The air froze cold.
“I’m offering it to Desia Heli, heir of the Archmage’s bloodline.”
“H-How...”
“Is that really important right now?”
There were more pressing matters.
“I can make you an Archmage. I can raise your family back up.”
If she joined him,
“I’ll make you an Archmage, without fail.”
At that proposal, Desia quietly closed her eyes.
“I told you, I keep my promises.”
She seemed fully convinced. He whispered a little more.
The 5th Prince, who had received the Azure Tower Lord’s ‘secret transmission’ and achieved the monumental feat of reaching low-grade mage in just one week.
Maybe... it could really happen?
“Your Highness the 5th Prince.”
Desia spoke in a steady voice as she slowly dropped to one knee.
“May my magic light Your Highness’s path.”
The future Archmage had joined him.
The Azure Tower Lord, Risefield Dior, moved stealthily. Scaling the wall of the 5th Prince’s Palace was second nature to him now. Ridiculous as it was, this wasn’t his first or second time.
Upon reaching the study, Risefield shed the shadows and revealed himself before the 5th Prince.
“Your Highness the 5th Prince.”
“You’ve arrived, old timer?”
He closed the book he’d been reading and looked up.
There stood Risefield, clad not in the blue robes symbolic of the Azure Tower, but in plain brown ones without any emblem.
“You’re not even surprised anymore.”
“When have I ever been surprised?”
He couldn’t recall any such instance.
“Yes, I won’t pry.”
The Azure Tower Lord nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips.
His aged body might falter, but his memory was sharp. He recalled times when the 5th Prince had been startled upon his dispelling of the concealment spell—but now seemed a good time to stay silent.
“Did you pass my message to Desia?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
By the original novel’s plot, it should have been the protagonist delivering those magic tomes to Desia. But they were tucked away in Imperial Vault 7.
He’d asked the Azure Tower Lord to sneak them out and deliver them to her.
In the novel, Desia grows stronger after reading the tomes from the protagonist.
The timing was advanced, but her growth was inevitable.
Desia was a talented mage, after all.
If we stick to the novel’s settings, that is.
Organizing his thoughts, Raymond silently brought his wine glass to his lips.
Did he look like he was deeply pondering? Risefield took a cautious step forward and spoke.
“She’s a talented one. She’ll reach high-grade without issue.”
Sorry, Azure Tower Lord, but you’re wrong.
Desia Heli will become an Archmage.
The setting decreed it, absolutely.
“You’ve done well, old timer.”
It felt awkward, but such things needed voicing in the moment.
“At least you recognize it.”
He tried to play it off, but a bright smile spread across the Azure Tower Lord’s face.
The old man was subtly dishonest about his emotions.
“By the way, Your Highness, there’s something I’d like to ask.”
“Speak.”
“They say there’ll be a grand banquet in three months to commemorate the victory in the Great War of the Ancient Era. Are you aware?”
“Of course I am.”
It was an annual imperial event honoring the survivors of that ancient war. No way he wouldn’t know.
Though my last attendance was five years ago...
After the 3rd Consort’s death, during those wayward years, Raymond had holed up in the 5th Prince’s Palace, never venturing out.
“You’re wondering if I plan to attend?”
“As expected of Your Highness.”
The Azure Tower Lord didn’t deny it.
Since I’ve decided to stand behind him, he wants a firm commitment?
Banquets had always been places for nobles to publicly declare allegiance to power holders.
That was the setting.
“I like your honesty.”
“It’s one of my few virtues.”
Raymond smiled back at Risefield, who grinned, and spoke with a smile of his own.
“I plan to attend.”
He’d resolved to shed the wastrel stigma and begin his true moves. This banquet would be his first stage.
If I’m doing this, let’s do it right.
His determination solidified.
“Old timer.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Can you guide me outside the Imperial Capital?”
“Suddenly?”
The Azure Tower Lord was startled by the 5th Prince’s bombshell.
“You’re going outside the capital?”
He widened his eyes and double-checked.
“Yes, outside the capital.”
“And telling me means you plan to slip out without an official escort?”
“You and I communicate well.”
No need for lengthy explanations—perfect.
“If it’s not rude, may I ask the destination?”
“The slums.”
“Oh no!”
The Azure Tower Lord clutched his head and slumped down. The shock seemed severe.
“Your Highness, the capital’s slums are far too dangerous without guards!”
The empire was crumbling, and the capital’s darkness ran deep as an abyss.
But oblivious or not to the Azure Tower Lord’s worry, the 5th Prince—Raymond—simply grinned.
“Isn’t a high-grade mage sufficient escort for royalty?”
“Sigh, Your Highness... The palace itself was attacked recently. You know how precious the Philius imperial bloodline is, don’t you?”
The Philius imperial family. Those bearing their blood could control the ancient weapons slumbering in the empire: the Colossal Divine Soldiers.
Without the Colossal Divine Soldiers, the empire would have fallen already.
They were the colossal ancient existences propping up the decaying realm.
“That’s exactly why I’m going.”
“Could you explain a bit more?”
There was a one-armed swordsman in the capital slums. He had Swordmaster talent, and Raymond knew how to awaken it.
“You’ll know when the time comes.”
Too early for details.
“Your Highness...”
“The Two Thousand Years’ Oath.”
“I shall obey.”
The Azure Tower Lord, Risefield, gave up trying to dissuade him, though he couldn’t stifle a sigh.
“There’s no need for your concern, old timer.”
“It had better be so. If anything happens to Your Highness, His Majesty the Emperor will have my head.”
Raymond nearly retorted, No way that’d happen, but clamped his mouth shut.
His recent changes had deepened the Emperor’s affection.
Returning from the slums with even a scratch would cause an uproar.
“Being a wastrel is exhausting.”
“Your Highness is no longer a wastrel.”
It was a casual remark, but Risefield denied it sternly, gravely, and earnestly.
Slipping out of the Imperial Capital, Raymond headed to the slums with Risefield. Unlike usual, Alex—sword at his hip—followed behind them.
The slums are even more dangerous than Your Highness imagines. Please bring one more swordsman as escort.
That was Risefield’s condition. The imperial knights in the 5th Prince’s Palace would either desperately refuse a trip to the slums or report to the Emperor, even if not under the 3rd Prince. So Alex had to come.
He’d mastered advanced swordsmanship from the martial Tiringger baron family, so he should have knight-level strength.
Plus a high-grade mage—more than enough protection.
“This is the slums.”
Risefield whispered very softly.
“Worse than I imagined.”
He’d read the setting documents describing the Philius Empire capital’s slums, but seeing it in person was another matter.
“I didn’t expect this bad.”
Crows perched on scattered corpses here and there. Many lay dying in the streets. A foul stench pierced his nose.
“Damn it all.”
He couldn’t help but frown. Not because it was filthy—but because he couldn’t help them.
“Your Highness...”
Alex glanced at him cautiously. Raymond silently shifted his gaze forward. Looking around wouldn’t change that they couldn’t assist; it only hurt his heart.
“Let’s go.”
Hurrying to leave this place, he quickened his steps. How deep into the slums had they gone?
Unlike the relatively composed Raymond and Risefield, Alex fidgeted anxiously, eyes darting as he gripped his sword hilt.
“We’re here.”
A dilapidated shack stood before them. And there—a middle-aged man missing his left arm.
The man, who’d seemed to be staring blankly at the sky, turned toward Raymond and his group.
“Two mages and one swordsman. What brings you to this hovel?”
A former high knight, perhaps? He saw through them at a glance. Risefield beside him looked slightly surprised too—he’d been concealing his power.
“Frost Shield Knight Order Captain, Gestain.”
“You even know my name?”
Suddenly, a sword gleamed in his right hand. No one had seen him draw it.
Alex jumped forward in alarm, and Risefield tensed, gathering mana.
“He won’t go down easy, even with one arm missing.”
“Don’t you want to go back?”
Instead of waiting for a reply, he pressed on.
“Don’t you want to reclaim your lost swordsmanship?”
“Is that even possible?”
Gestain showed interest.
“I lost my left arm. Unless it’s a style made for one arm, there’s no way I can wield proper swordsmanship in this state.”
“There is such a style.”
He really didn’t know. Of course—an ancient era technique wouldn’t be common knowledge.
“Reveal yourself.”
“Me?”
Grinning, he pushed back his hood and slipped the 5th Prince’s ring onto his finger from his pocket.
This should suffice.
And sure enough, Gestain recognized it.
“I am the 5th Prince, Raymond Philius. I’ll help you reclaim your lost swordsmanship.”
“Is that possible?”
His voice dripped suspicion. Gestain’s gaze was far from friendly. Understandable—he’d been betrayed by his sworn lord and lost his arm.
A knight whose story made it hard to trust anyone or anything.
“I even visited Baron Heinkel, but found no solution.”
Heinkel—one of the five disciples of the Philius Empire’s last Swordmaster, now a northern lord. To think he’d journeyed to the far north in his afflicted state.
“If I restore your lost swordsmanship, will you follow me?”
“Is that the price?”
Raymond nodded instead of answering Gestain’s question.
“Then I’ll gladly follow.”
Raymond smiled at the response.
He knew how to restore Gestain’s lost swordsmanship. He knew all the settings, after all.
This secures a future Swordmaster.
Stealing the protagonist’s opportunities—his plan was proceeding smoothly.