Two Months Later
"A magical ritual, you say... I'll look into it. I'll scour the western islands of Ortus."
"It'll take some time to plant someone in the royal palace to monitor the prince, though. In the meantime, please handle things yourself, Tiny."
Jay's response was satisfactory, and at that point, Tiny still expected things to resolve smoothly.
But contrary to his expectations.
The traitor of the kingdom—who had thrown the capital Ortus into uproar by colluding with demon worshippers—proved far from easy to catch.
"Find him at all costs!"
"He's a traitor to the kingdom!"
The royal knights and soldiers under them, initially eager to hunt down Litman, soon lost their zeal as the days dragged on.
"Where the hell did he disappear to? He must've fled to the continent or the East Continent by now."
"Yeah, no way he's still in the kingdom, right?"
Above all, since Litman's name wasn't widely known, the spotlight increasingly fell on the disappearance of the kingdom's sole transcendent, the Wave Master Gail Anderson.
"...I believe in the Wave Master, Gail Anderson."
The king refused to acknowledge his disappearance, insisting it was merely a delayed return, but everyone else had already accepted it as fact—his disappearance, or rather, his death.
The national power's decline from losing a transcendent. As attention shifted there, Litman's case naturally faded into obscurity.
Moreover, perhaps to lift the kingdom's gloomy atmosphere in various ways, the palace began focusing on more positive matters.
Namely, shining a brighter light on and praising the young knight who had exposed and driven out that very traitor.
We have a future.
The next transcendent is growing safely!
Such talk had begun circulating among the knights and soldiers.
Furthermore, over the past two months, he had sparred repeatedly with the royal knight captain, the Rock Wall Knight Liam von Peterson, and shown remarkable prowess, leaving no one in doubt.
And there was one particularly eye-catching peculiarity.
"Whew, you're growing so noticeably. In skill and height alike. Is it related to how much you eat, by any chance?"
Tiny could only smile awkwardly at Liam's question after their spar.
He could explain the skill growth, but his height—over half a foot taller in two months—was harder to justify. In truth, he was only now catching up to his peers, but his status plate already marked him as twenty.
Fortunately.
"I hear mixed-bloods of other races can spurt up suddenly under the right trigger. You seem just like that, lad."
Thanks to Liam and others misunderstanding on their own, few pressed the issue.
And there was another reason he drew attention at court.
"Good work today. If that's all, I'll be—"
"Hold on. You're heading to His Highness the First Prince again today, aren't you?"
"Yes, he keeps summoning me."
Liam's face hardened at the reply. He seemed about to add something but held back.
Sensing his unspoken concern, Tiny just flashed a grin.
"Don't worry. What could change just because I get close to the prince?"
Liam shook his head in disbelief.
"You're severely underrating yourself! Reaching Expert at just twenty. Combat prowess enough to overpower a Superior-grade knight. And with elf blood to boot..."
...I'm not half-elf, though.
Tiny swallowed the words he couldn't say to Liam, who showed him endless favor, as the knight pressed on enthusiastically.
"Including me, plenty are already anticipating the heights you'll reach in your later years. Who knows? You might surpass Aura User to become an Aura Exceeder... no, even an Aura Master. And you're drawing close to the First Prince!"
Tiny sighed inwardly.
In truth, he wasn't doing it because he wanted to.
Why no reaction yet? Did my actions back then change something?
Just over a month remained until the calamity that had befallen Carun in his previous life.
But even observing up close, neither the First Prince nor Truman showed any suspicious signs.
They just seemed pleased, praising the kingdom's discernment in spotting talent when he deferred to them.
"Litman? Traitors must die, obviously. Though Father's will may differ."
Even asking about Litman yielded rote, meaningless replies as they partied on.
...Fucking scum.
Tiny learned much later that rumors swirled of the king favoring his youngest son, Henry von Carun, just twenty-five.
It made sense: at twenty, he'd reached 2nd Circle, and now expectations mounted for 3rd Circle. A 'genius' from the royal house, said to descend from ancient grand archmages—information that incidentally revealed their keen interest in magical achievements.
"His Highness's intentions aside... your actions are making the palace atmosphere strange."
"...That much?"
"People are starting to think the First Prince will inherit the throne regardless."
The words stirred a major ripple in Tiny's mind.
Could it be...?
Initially, hearing the rumors, he'd suspected the First Prince—facing disinheritance to the youngest—might have reached out to demon worshippers.
Jay's and Blackwing's reports had leaned him toward that theory.
"We're mobilizing our full resources. Carun's commissioned continental info guilds too, but no results."
"Someone prominent in Carun or the city-state alliance is openly sheltering him. There's a bigwig backing him."
Though he'd pegged that backer as the First Prince, what if his own actions were why nothing stirred?
...Time to probe.
Conveniently, he'd just received word that surveillance on the First Prince and Truman was in place.
So.
"I'll heed your advice. I should keep my distance from the First Prince."
"...What?"
Liam blinked in surprise at how readily Tiny accepted, but Tiny went further.
"Could I possibly meet the rumored Prince Henry?"
"Well... yes, of course! I'll arrange it. He's due out from long closed-door training soon anyway."
Closed-door training?
Even if the East Continent was Carun's main trade partner, openly using their terms in a western royal house was new.
But what mattered more was Liam's expression.
His innermost thoughts are plain as day.
Not cut out for politics, this one.
Tiny smirked wryly.
And Liam acted faster than expected.
Just three days later.
"...So this boy—no, this knight—is the famous Sir Tiny?"
The pale-skinned youth, fresh from closed-door training, eyed Tiny with curiosity.
It was understandable. After three months shut away, the first faces were Liam's and this stranger he introduced.
Moreover, the knight was intriguing from the rumors Tiny had overheard en route from the training grounds to the inner palace.
"...Pleased to meet you, Your Highness. Tiny Morse."
"Oh? No 'von' in the introduction?"
"A lone soul without even a territory—how dare I claim tradition? I'm still but a humble knight."
Prince Henry smiled.
"Nobles obsess over bloodlines, yet you're special, as they say."
What meaning do bloodlines hold?
Secret arts and education passed down in the family matter more.
A slip from not minding his alias, but his quick wit seemed to land well.
"I'm still sorely lacking."
"I hear you chased off a Superior-grade traitor at your age. If you're lacking, I'm hopeless."
"Y-Your Highness! How can you say—!"
Liam cried out in shock, but Henry burst laughing.
"Hahaha, just comparing, Count. Geniuses like Sir Tiny look bad being so humble. Better to be arrogantly fitting."
He smiled at Tiny again.
"Heard you're twenty. Look younger due to blood? Still, I'm a few years older, so some advice?"
"Please, Your Highness."
"Haha, no need for formalities. Just act arrogantly around nobles."
"Pardon?"
"Show weakness to those babbling about blue blood, and they'll bite. If you have strength and talent, crush them silent—that's the way."
His pale face grinning exuded a chilling charisma that impressed even Tiny, who'd sought him out to gauge his caliber.
If he'd survived, he'd have been a hegemon.
Unclear if kingly material yet, but far superior to the wary First Prince. His three distinct circles pulsed vividly from the heart—worlds apart.
"Especially for a genius like you. Understand?"
"...I'll remember, Your Highness."
"Anyway, speak your piece."
"Pardon?"
"You didn't seek the freshly emerged me out of curiosity alone? Your actions since arriving scream disdain for empty pomp."
Point up.
Tiny smirked at the prince's sharp gaze.
"As expected of His Majesty's favored heir. Far superior to Prince Lueri."
He casually dropped a palace hush-hush.
"What did you just—!!"
Liam gasped beside him, but Henry nodded with a deeper smile.
"Bold as rumored. I like it. Admit you have a purpose meeting me? So, what is it?"
His face shone with satisfaction at his prediction and self-confidence.
Wonder how it'll change.
"But if the kingdom falls before you inherit, what then?"
Tiny tossed the bomb calmly, like a prankster.
"Such impudent words! Who dares threaten—!!"
As Liam bellowed in dismay.
"...Elaborate?"
The prince shot up, then calmly quelled his surprise and asked back.
Passed.
Tiny revealed part of the truth in even tones.
And from that day.
Tiny openly spent time with Prince Henry, blatantly avoiding the First Prince and Truman.
The result.
"Birds of a feather, geniuses recognize each other."
"So the next throne goes to..."
"Him... surely."
Within weeks, palace rumors spread openly outward.
To mark the coming New Year.
The king's proclamation gave it concrete form.
Naturally, someone at the opposite pole felt grave unease.
[...It's been quite a while, Your Highness? You're later than promised.]
In a place no eyes reached, he had to communicate with one he should never contact.