The Hunt Begins
The Eighth Prince was glaring at me as if he wanted to murder me on the spot, his pride clearly wounded by the humiliation—or what he perceived as humiliation—he had suffered during the last ceremony. It had been going on for an hour now.
For that entire hour, ever since we departed the Imperial Palace, he had kept his eyes wide and bulging. It was a level of sheer tenacity that made me wonder whether I should praise his ocular health or his stubbornness. Do members of the Imperial bloodline not get sore eyes from straining their ocular muscles like that? Maybe their facial muscles are just built different from ordinary humans. Letting my mind drift off with these utterly unproductive thoughts, I did my best to ignore him.
If the recent incident had proven anything, it was that because we were still a year before the start of the original novel, the kid was slightly more hot-tempered and impulsive than the version I had read about. Recalling how he looked ready to slam the table and pounce on me, I decided it was best not to provoke him—at least until we reached our destination. After all, a rather important event was waiting for us today.
Thinking back to my past life in the modern world, there was nothing more terrifying to someone in their late twenties than the raw, unchecked angst of a teenager. I chose to stay quiet, hoping he would just vent his steam and shut up.
"You bastard, are you ignoring me?!"
Unfortunately, my calm demeanor only seemed to fuel his rage. If I engaged, he got angry; if I didn't, he got frustrated. Was this what it felt like to deal with a spoiled younger sibling?
Even as my mind wandered, he kept muttering curses—or things that sounded like curses—under his breath. At the very least, he had the decency to keep his voice down this time to avoid drawing attention, unlike before. Not that I was going to pat him on the back for it.
The words slipping through his teeth were mostly "scum," "insect," "dirty blood," and "vulgar black horse." A vulgar black horse, huh. Personally, I preferred it to the golden ones.
I gently stroked the mane of the jet-black stallion carrying me. Sensing my touch, the horse let out a soft snort and shook its head slightly. So the Seventh Prince might be despised by people, but he has a way with animals. When I scratched its neck, it let out a quiet whinny and put more strength into its stride. It certainly wasn't "vulgar," unlike the mount of that petty rooster-head next to me. I didn't really know what made a horse vulgar anyway, but to my eyes, this one looked quite elegant.
"You're a pretty cute fellow, but you get treated like trash just because your master is the Seventh Prince," I murmured under my breath.
The stallion nodded its head again. I'd suspected this for a while, but the animals in this world behaved as if they could actually understand human speech.
The rooster-head started squawking again, furious that I was ignoring him while talking to a beast, but I tuned him out once more. This black horse had been a gift to the young Seventh Prince from the Fourth Prince—or someone like that—solely to mock him for being a black-haired prince without Manis. A pitch-black horse stood out starkly among the white steeds with golden manes. Surrounded by the Imperial family, it only made the Seventh Prince look darker, which supposedly brought him great shame. Leave it to the Imperial family to spend a fortune just to bully someone. Honestly... I kind of liked it. I wished they would keep bullying me like this instead of just flapping their gums like the brat next to me. If they were going to do it, they might as well gift me black jewels or a black sword. Besides, a horse with such an inconspicuous color would be incredibly useful when I eventually escaped the Imperial Palace.
By the time the Eighth Prince's voice finally died down, a small tower marking the edge of the forest came into view. Once we reached the entrance of the massive Imperial Forest—a testament to the Emperor's grand authority—a brief opening ceremony for the hunting contest would take place, and then the hunt would begin in earnest. Naturally, the winner was always predetermined to be a prince or princess. There was no way a normal human could defeat a Manis wielder. Those born with the golden hair of the Imperial bloodline possessed vastly superior physical capabilities. And since using their abilities wasn't forbidden during the contest, it was impossible for anyone else to win.
In truth, the Imperial hunting contest was merely an event to elevate the prestige of the Imperial family and announce new policies under a tense, heavy atmosphere. Traditionally, the victor of the hunt was granted a single wish by the Emperor. This tradition supposedly originated from the First Emperor's love of hunting, but now it had devolved into a mere political tool for the royals. Since the winners were always members of the Imperial family, they only made wishes that pleased the Emperor or benefited their own factions.
Above all, anyone who dared to object to the proceedings had to risk their life. Right next to the tower lay a sheer, dizzying cliff. Anyone who committed the crime of opposing the sacred traditions of the Imperial family would be cast down into the abyss. In exchange for risking their life, however, the winner's wish for that year would be vetoed once. But even then, it was a futile gesture; the hunting contest would simply be held again the following year, and the next winner would make the same wish anyway. Since no one wanted to die such a meaningless death, almost no one ever stepped forward to object.
Well, another purpose of the event, if you could call it that, was to let the Imperial family vent their boiling bloodlust.
"Once the hunt begins, I'll catch you and that horse first, skin you both, and burn you alive."
Yes, to calm down energetic bastards like this rooster-head.
Realizing we had nearly reached the tower, he spoke through gritted teeth. For the first time in an hour and a half, I finally met his eyes. If he actually spent the entire day chasing me around, it would complicate my plans.
"We can't have that," I replied.
When I finally spoke, the rooster-head, who had been gearing up to unleash another torrent of abuse, furrowed his brows in confusion at my nonchalant tone. Leaning slightly toward him, I whispered in a low voice.
"If you do that, everyone will realize that you're an Imperial prince who can barely light a candle."
I watched his eyes widen as his face drained of color, then continued.
"Behave yourself, at least for today. If I lose my mind and shout in front of everyone for you to burn me, there's nothing that can save you."
Bwooo—
Right on cue, a horn resounded, and the tedious procession finally ground to a halt. We had arrived at the stone tower at the entrance of the forest. Seen from a distance, the tower looked roughly piled together with stone, incredibly crude compared to the gold, silver, and bronze-clad Imperial Palace. This ancient structure was known as the Tower of Genesis. Built by the First Emperor, it had hosted the opening ceremony of the hunting contest every single year since.
The ceremony was essentially a demonstration of power, where the successor candidate chosen by the Emperor would display their might to flaunt the Imperial family's authority before the nobles. In the original novel, this was the exact scene where the First Prince overexerted his power. Recalling the plot once more, I scanned the area around the stone tower. The crude tower, which had only possessed the bare frame of an altar until recently, was now surrounded by luxurious tents and a grand altar that looked entirely out of place. The servants must have been worked to the bone for this.
Even on the day of the hunt, things were no different; attendants and servants bustled about, catering to the high nobles and royals. Naturally, I had brought no one with me. I could have ordered the servants of the Seventh Prince's Palace to accompany me, but the fewer eyes on my business, the better. There was no reason to bring them along. Leading my horse through the busy crowd, I quietly and carefully examined the stone tower and the forest entrance. I felt a few gazes lingering on me as I wandered around without a single retainer, but I couldn't afford to care about such trivialities. Preparing for what was to unfold today was far more important.
Before long, once the royals and high nobles had taken their seats, the ceremony commenced immediately. While I despised the Emperor as a human being, I had to appreciate his efficiency. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the Emperor stepped onto the massive, gold-trimmed altar.
Bwooo— Bwooo—
To the sound of two long horn blasts, the Emperor raised his hand with an expressionless face. In response, the First Prince stepped forward with a solemn air. He extended both hands. The moment he reached out, his eyes met mine as I stood below the altar, but he quickly averted his gaze. Then, he channeled his power. At least, that was what I assumed. The energy itself wasn't visible, but judging by the spectacle that followed, it was a formidable display of strength.
A small vortex of water began to form between his arms. The gathered crowd watched him with tense, expectant eyes, wondering if the First Prince would cough up blood again this time. But that was not going to happen. Not when I had intervened.
The small vortex rapidly expanded, swelling until it was as large as the ancient stone tower. As the First Prince reached toward the sky, a spray of water shaped like a wolf leaped from the swirling torrent. The watery wolf bounded over the heads of the crowd gathered below the altar before making a great leap and vanishing into the heavens. Where the wolf disappeared, several rainbows arched across the sky, formed by the light refracting through the scattered droplets.
A profound silence fell over the altar. Everyone stood spellbound, unable to tear their eyes away from a spectacle that no mere human could ever hope to replicate. Only after the horn sounded twice more—just as it had at the start of the ceremony—did the crowd begin to snap out of their daze. Soon, thunderous applause filled the forest.
The First Prince basked in the cheers with a confident expression. As the applause began to die down, he stepped down from the altar without shedding a single drop of blood. With this, the annual opening ceremony, where the most prominent candidate for the throne demonstrated his power, came to an end. Showing the First Prince in perfect health would buy us more time before the start of the original novel. My first mission of the hunting contest was successfully complete.
Once the First Prince stepped down, the Emperor slowly spoke.
"Let the hunting contest begin."
The Emperor's voice resonated through the area, and the gathered crowd began to form their prepared hunting parties and venture into the vast forest. Now that the First Prince had completed his part, it was time for me to achieve my own purpose here. Nudging the black stallion's flanks, I rode toward the Small Animal Area of the forest. The hidden episode was about to begin.
"The Emperor decided to crush the nobles' spirits a bit early this time."
At the dry remark, his anxious vassal, Tollin, gasped in horror. He frantically looked around, and only after confirming they were alone did he whisper back in a rush.
"Please, save such blasphemous words for when you are alone! Or at least when you are far enough away from me that anyone would believe we have absolutely nothing to do with each other!"
Seeing his dramatic reaction, Tollin's superior—the man who had uttered the blasphemous remark—wore a look of utter exasperation.
"Tollin, I only stretch my legs where I know I can lie down. I wouldn't have survived to this age otherwise. There isn't a soul within fifty feet who could hear us."
Only then did the vassal look relieved. Shaking his head at his assistant, the man cast a weary gaze up at the sky. The faint rainbow left behind by the giant water wolf the First Prince had conjured still lingered in the air. In stark contrast to the beautiful scenery, his mind was a turbulent, muddy mess. The man staring up at the sky with a heavy heart was Agoni Fidus. He was the Duke of the Fidus Family, a legendary veteran who had led the vanguard on the battlefield well into his fifties, and a tragic soul whose destiny was about to be drastically altered today by a certain someone.