The First Prince?
'If I were him, I would've gone all out to kill me, no matter the cost... But he just ran? Why? Because he thought he couldn't win? He didn't strike me as the type to give up that easily.'
Even as he left the throne room, Tiny's mind was entirely fixed on Husel.
A single heartfelt stab was far more revealing of character than hours of feigned conversation.
He couldn't wrap his head around how a man who'd relentlessly stalked every opening, sacrificing his underlings to create just one chink in the armor, had suddenly turned tail.
'Is there something even more important to him elsewhere? The cargo was items for a magic ritual... Hmm.'
No matter how he puzzled it over, no solid conclusion emerged.
"Ha, damn it..."
In frustration, he scratched his head vigorously without realizing it, but that wasn't going to spark any sudden insights.
Times like this made him wonder if the jabs about his supposed stupidity held a kernel of truth.
So.
'...No good. I need to tell Jay what's going on and ask him.'
When racking his brains yielded nothing, hand it off to someone who might know the answer.
Nodding at his own wise decision, Tiny turned to head for the outer fortress.
But then.
"Sir Tiny, care to talk?"
A familiar voice caught his ankle.
"...Sir Liam."
It was the old knight, Liam von Peterson, with whom he'd recently bonded over a sparring match. His expression looked quite perplexed.
'Probably about Husel.'
Understanding his concern, Tiny turned obediently toward him.
But then.
"Count Liam, could you step aside for a moment?"
A booming voice intruded, accompanied by a middle-aged man who appeared to be in his forties.
"...Prince Lueri."
Liam's face twisted upon seeing him.
At that moment, a knight standing behind the middle-aged man stepped forward and spoke.
"His Highness the Crown Prince has come personally to see you. Could you spare a moment, Sir Tiny?"
The knight wore a friendly smile—it was Truman von Enis, captain of the Relic Guardians. At the words of his nominal superior, Tiny's head tilted slightly.
But before he could respond, a cold voice cut in sharply.
"Prince Lueri is not yet the Crown Prince, Truman. Mind your words."
It was Liam, who'd first stopped Tiny.
Truman's face twitched briefly, but he soon resumed his affable smile and nodded.
"Your Excellency the Count, I was merely speaking flexibly. In the line of succession, isn't it obvious Prince Lueri will become Crown Prince?"
"That is for His Highness to decide."
The middle-aged man interjected at those words.
"Enough, enough. Why bring up such pointless matters before the kingdom's sanctity?"
He'd used Tiny as an excuse, but the middle-aged man's cold gaze was directed at Liam.
Watching the scene, Tiny could only smirk.
'An aging king and an aged prince.'
On this continent, where mana turned humans into superhumans, it was relatively common.
They said power wasn't even shared with one's children.
Though not true superhumans, mana users naturally outlived ordinary folk.
Kings and emperors clinging to the throne until death often meant their children died first, and grandsons became heirs.
'That's how you become a legend.'
So a prince who looked about forty as crown prince heir wasn't all that unusual.
Still, something felt off.
The king's decline was visibly accelerating by the day.
And.
'He's the first prince, yet not confirmed as crown prince at that age.'
Probably either grossly incompetent or outshone by a more capable sibling.
But Tiny had no idea how many royal children or grandchildren there were.
Nor whether Karon Kingdom succession was limited to princes or extended to princesses and sons-in-law.
Complicated circumstances, no doubt—but none of his business.
"What is it, Your Highness?"
"Ah... haha, I've shown an unsightly side right from our first meeting. Pleased to meet you, Sir Tiny. I am Lueri von Karon."
The sternly smiling middle-aged man was Prince Lueri.
"As I said again, he is the kingdom's crown... ahem, first in line for the throne."
Tiny's brow furrowed involuntarily at Truman's incessant bowing beside him.
Neither the prince with a single mana circle in his heart nor Truman's excessive sycophancy sat well with him, ruining what had been a decent first impression.
"Uh... yes. So, what brings you here, Your Highness?"
A faint chuckle escaped Liam's lips at the curt reply, his face stiff beside them.
Prince Lueri's expression hardened slightly as well.
"...Hoho. As expected of a young... ahem, youthful fellow—you dislike empty formalities. Well, that's just what I hoped for."
What exactly had he expected?
Awkwardly clearing his throat, the prince glanced at the impassive Liam and shook his head.
"But this doesn't seem the place to discuss it... Would you come with me for a bit, Sir Tiny?"
With that, the prince was already half-turning away.
As if Tiny's compliance was a given.
But.
"In that case, may we schedule for later, Your Highness? I have urgent business to attend to."
Tiny drew a polite line.
The prince's face noticeably stiffened.
"You're refusing my... command right now?"
"I'm carrying out His Majesty's orders, Your Highness. Is this more important?"
In short: 'Are you above the king?'
The prince bit his lip but forced a smile and nodded.
"...Then of course you must follow His Majesty's command. I've been rude twice now."
"Not at all. I'm sorry I can't obey your words. Once my mission is done and I have time, I'll come to you personally."
Though I won't be here then.
He'd merely hidden his true thoughts and observed decorum, but the prince's expression softened a touch.
With a small sigh, he nodded.
"...I heard you uncovered the link between that Litman fellow and the demon worshippers. And chased him into the sea. His Majesty's orders relate to that, I presume?"
"Yes."
"Find that traitor and end him for sure. He's put me in a tough spot, the bastard."
"...Pardon?"
What... did that mean?
"I wanted to discuss the details, but since you're busy... Anyway, I leave it to you, Sir Tiny."
The prince left him with that nagging question and turned away.
Once he and Truman had gone.
"...His Majesty once entrusted the first prince's education to Litman. Not the prince's wish, of course, but now that he's exposed as a traitor, His Highness fears the sparks might fly his way."
Liam explained the prince's odd remark.
"Even so, with His Majesty ordering no killing, to say 'kill him'... He must not know. Haha. Their tempers are just too different."
The old knight, lifelong servant to the current Karon king, clearly disliked the first prince.
But hearing that, Tiny glimpsed an answer to one of his many questions about Karon's situation.
To confirm, he asked Liam obliquely.
"...Sir Truman seems aligned with that first prince?"
"Ah, well... So it appears. A friend who'd lived cleanly his whole life—something must've blown in recently."
Liam sighed and continued.
"Both he and I are nearing retirement. Why court trouble in our twilight years..."
That response solidified the possibility flickering in Tiny's mind.
"Ah... Thank you, Sir Liam. Then I'll be off..."
"What? W-Wait! I haven't finished..."
Liam could only gape in disbelief at Tiny's vanishing back.
He hadn't even asked what he wanted to know.
How he'd been there that day, what he'd discussed with the king to prompt that throne room exchange...
The royal knight captain's questions would linger unanswered for a while.
"We need to surveil the first prince and Relic Guardian Captain Truman. They'll try to steal the relic."
The connection between Litman—that is, Husel—and this incident.
And only one who knew the relic would vanish in the future could deduce this.
- Only I, aside from His Highness, hold access to the relic's chamber.
- Because there's no need to guard it.
Now Truman's words twisted into an order not to guard the relic.
And if someone knew the relic's properties that Tiny had grasped, stealing the millennia-fixed Humaitas from its spot wouldn't be so hard.
'The king's legitimate son, a prince, might know that secret.'
Why a prince would do such a thing, or why a retiring old knight would aid him—questions remained.
But that assumption pieced the puzzle together.
One unforeseen issue, though.
"...And what's the basis for that judgment?"
Explaining such an abbreviated logic to others was incredibly tough.
In the back room of a pub recently opened on the outskirts of Ortus.
It was natural for Jay, polishing a wine glass with expert hands, to ask.
"Uh, well..."
A puzzle forced to fit because he knew the future.
How to explain it?
Tiny, who'd rushed to Jay without thinking it through, trailed off in panic.
His eventual answer:
"...Intuition."
Crunch.
The polishing hand emitted an unnatural sound for the first time, and Jay—his face that of a young man, not the middle-aged one from Enaxen—fixed Tiny with icy eyes.
"Intuition... you say? Ha, ha, ha."
I'm utterly dumbfounded right now. Give me a plausible basis, quick.
Jay's cold gaze and contrived laugh seemed to demand.
But Tiny had no choice but to bluff.
"Ahem. Some things you only know from experience. Those two just feel too suspicious."
- Didn't you say you wanted to smash the Demon King's skull? You trying to get burned at the stake before you're grown?
The Sword Emperor's admonition was still vividly etched in his mind.
The truth of his regression was top secret until the final battle.
Except when convincing old comrades.
But...
"So we're staking agents to infiltrate the inner palace and surveil a kingdom's first in line to the throne—on that 'intuition' alone?"
Jay showing this much reluctance was trouble.
Tiny hurriedly brainstormed.
"It's certain the demon worshippers are after the relic. The guy we chased off was a normal mana user. He hunkered down for 16 years to earn the king's trust in the relic-guarded space. And he was the prince's mentor!"
He didn't know what he'd taught the prince, but no need to elaborate.
It was just a desperate shot in the dark.
"...You should've led with that. Your absurd claim almost made me doubt my lord's judgment."
Luckily, it landed.
Phew.
"Uh... I tend to sense things on gut first, analyze later."
He flashed a triumphant smile, striking a cool pose, but Jay returned a rotten grin.
"Noted: relies on animal instinct due to poor intellect."
"No!"
Bam.
Flustered, he slammed the small table with his fist, and the rickety furniture splintered with a crack.
Immediate reproachful glares followed.
"We're already short on furniture with all the work... Ha, life..."
A theatrical sigh to boot.
...Just curse me out directly.
Thinking that as Jay sighed, Tiny could only bow his head.
"S-Sorry."
"Well, as you said, we'll handle it. Anything else?"
"Ah, he fled west into the sea. Among the nearby islands..."
As Tiny began sharing more on Husel and his doubts.
Tap. Ting. Tatang. Tang. Tang. Ting.
A bizarre knocking rhythm sounded at the door.
Conversation halted; Jay raised a hand, and the door slid open smoothly.
A strangely familiar-faced youth dashed in.
'This scene feels like déjà vu.'
Tiny tilted his head at the odd sensation.
"Master, right now, quick..."
Jay's grave expression met the youth's whisper.
"Urgent business came up. Let's talk again in an hour."
"...No way, a group party?"
Realizing the source of his déjà vu, Tiny frowned; Jay shook his head sternly.
"VIP guests. As a high-end salon bar this time, we don't take vulgar group parties."
"...Huh?"
"Disguise has to be thorough."
"What the hell are you even..."
Speechless in disbelief.
"Then."
Jay bowed curtly with the youth and exited promptly.
Slide.
Thud.
"What? VIP? How long since opening..."
In the renovated warehouse room, only Tiny's hollow soliloquy echoed.