Chapter 575: Back from the Dead
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 575: Back from the Dead
"What on earth is going on?"
The night remained, but the glow of various fires, gunpowder smoke, and magical lights illuminated this once quiet and vast private estate as if it were broad daylight.
When Albert arrived silently in his carriage at the edge of the grounds, he was met with the miserable sight of half the Marquis’s mansion reduced to ruins. Various nobles, having received word, had sent people to scout the situation. Combined with the knights who had rushed over at the commotion, the outskirts were congested with carriages and onlookers. This sprawling estate—which, even in the gold-paved Upper District, rivaled a countryside manor in size—had rarely seen such a crowd.
"One of the heirs to the Glory’s Blood, an ancient family with a thousand-year legacy in the Empire... and their mansion is attacked by so-called thugs and destroyed like this?"
Albert rarely displayed such explosive rage. He slammed a fist onto the table before him and said in a low voice, "This is the Upper District! What thugs would have the guts?!"
"Lord Speaker, please calm yourself."
Having escaped Celicia’s surveillance, the Robin that had been circling in the sky for a long time finally landed before Albert. Inside the private space of the carriage, its expression was also grave.
"That something like this would happen was indeed beyond all our expectations. However, based on the intelligence we currently have, the opposition is no mere band of thugs."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you really think Her Highness the Princess inviting you to dinner at a time like this was truly just to 'catch up'?"
"She planned this?"
Albert’s pupils constricted. The many oddities of the night finally connected into a single, coherent thread.
He had been playing the role of the "First Prince" so deeply lately that he had almost forgotten where his soul truly belonged, which was why he hadn't made the connection immediately.
"Heh, as I thought. Does my 'little sister' hold more information than we imagined?"
"Perhaps when she visited the Dion Mansion last time, we let a flaw slip somewhere without knowing it."
The Robin flapped its wings. "I contacted you then; the Princess was already pressing us to a lethal degree. She was only a step away from discovering the truth even then."
"But why is she still biting so hard now? Andrew is dead. What use is there in chasing me? Is she still trying to stand up for that damned Campbell family?"
Albert pondered for a moment, his face suddenly darkening.
"No, standing up for them now would only harm the Campbells. Choosing to act like this at this moment... could it be that she also wants..."
"...From a certain perspective, it’s not impossible." The Robin thought for a moment and nodded. "After all, she does possess the purest royal bloodline."
"But she’s a woman!"
"If she can prove the First Prince isn't the First Prince, then she naturally becomes the Empire's only legitimate heir." The Robin continued, "Don't forget, Her Highness is no useless fool like Andrew."
"...Indeed. Celicia is a clever woman."
Albert suddenly calmed down, leaning back against the seat. The shadows cast by the light outside the window masked half his face, making him look sinister and majestic.
"But it’s only petty cleverness. She doesn't understand at all. Even if she knows the truth, she can't bring me down. Because the interest groups gathered around the 'First Prince'—the most legally legitimate identity—don't care about the so-called soul. They only care about the identity, the bloodline, the position, and... what they can gain."
Albert looked at his own fair, slender hands, filled with youthful vitality.
"Just as the Glory’s Blood connects the Inner Council, interests and the dissatisfaction of the suppressed old nobility toward the Emperor have constructed the current Albert. An Albert who represents more than just the First Prince... How can she, alone or even with the Campbell family, fight me?"
"So, she resorted to this tactic. She likely intends to use this method for a final gamble."
"Laughable. My only weakness now is that body. Unless she can truly..."
Albert and the Robin locked eyes, their gazes suddenly snapping toward the half-ruined mansion.
*
"How... how can this be?"
Dion Mansion, the cellar.
Sharp, having returned from his failed pursuit of Bruce, looked at the empty cellar. His blood felt as if it were flowing backward.
"Strange... I clearly repelled the only intruder who made it this far. The other thugs never got this deep. Why... why?"
Due to the side effects of beastification, Sharp’s body was still weak. He practically trembled as he walked into the cellar, but no matter how he searched the cramped space, he couldn't find the Old Marquis’s body that was supposed to be there.
Finally, he found a note on the ground. Written in a cute script, it said:
“Thanks for the hospitality! The steak was great, and the wine was excellent. This old grandpa is taking his leave now~”
The flippant tone caused a blood-pressure-spiking image of a chubby face to flash before Sharp’s eyes. His head throbbed; he only regretted that his noble upbringing had been too thorough, leaving him unable to even bark out a proper curse in such a moment.
"Useless!"
Albert, who had entered the mansion through a secret passage, stood nearby. Seeing the scene, he understood the situation immediately and roared with a dark expression.
"You couldn't even guard a single body? What use do I have for you?"
"I am deeply sorry, Father."
Sharp’s knees buckled, and he knelt directly before the equally young figure.
"It was my negligence. I didn't expect that Bruce was merely a decoy. Please give me another chance. I will surely bring your body back—"
"Shut up, you waste!"
The enraged Albert swung a hand, but because his current body was too frail, it only caused Sharp’s head to tilt slightly.
Albert’s chest heaved. Since his "rebirth" into the Dion family, he had rarely been this angry.
"Lord Speaker, please calm your anger."
The Robin flew in a circle around the cellar and landed at the entrance of the passage, advising, "Now is not the time to handle family matters."
"I know... it’s just that this unfilial son has infuriated me too much."
Albert took a long breath and gradually regained his composure. "Can you tell how long they’ve been gone?"
"Judging by the traces, they just left. Ten minutes at most."
"Ten minutes. It seems there’s still time."
Albert murmured, appearing hesitant, his expression shifting between light and dark.
Ultimately, he made up his mind. He pulled a sharp, black cone-shaped object from his robes. Taking a deep breath, he suddenly slammed the cone into his own chest.
Pfft.
Flesh tore, blood flowed, and the intense agony made Albert’s body shudder and his expression twist.
Black patterns spread out from the cone, eventually merging into Albert’s flesh like a web, firmly entangling something within his physical form.
"Father!"
Sharp looked terrified and moved to rush forward, but was held back by the Robin.
"Don't move. This is a method to temporarily sever the connection between his soul and his original body."
"Sever the connection?"
"Just in case. The enemy has the body. If they have a curse or some other method to attack the Lord Speaker’s soul through the link between the original flesh and the soul, it would be trouble."
The Robin explained, "We were involved in the entire process of this soul transfer. Knowing the weaknesses, we naturally have countermeasures. Of course, as I said, this is only temporary."
"I see..."
Sharp had just breathed a sigh of relief when he became tense again. "But... if the enemy has the body, won't they be able to..."
"Relax. It’s just a body; it proves nothing."
Albert lifted his head, his face distorted. The black patterns writhed beneath his skin like a malevolent spirit.
"Soul transfer leaves no evidence. An empty shell of a body explains nothing. They can't even bring the fact that they stole the Marquis’s body into the light. Therefore, as long as there is no absolute, irrefutable proof that I am not me—that the First Prince is not the First Prince—I am invincible. My identity and legitimacy as the First Prince remain unshakable."
"Heh, they think they can topple me by grabbing my only weakness? Naive. I’ve planned for so long; how could I not have thought to plug every hole?"
Albert gradually returned to a state of calm and slowly stood straight.
"But to be safe, we must reclaim my body as quickly as possible."
"What should we do?" Sharp asked immediately.
"We use overwhelming pressure."
Albert thought for a moment and said deeply, "Forcefully attack the Marquis’s mansion? No. This time, Celicia is the one in the wrong. Tomorrow, you will take this matter directly to the Imperial Council. Use the laws of the Empire to force Celicia to hand over the body. I will assist you. At the same time, I will use this opportunity to seize some of the initiative in the Council back from that ridiculous bear. Do you understand?"
"Understood!"
"This time, you must not fail!"
"Yes! Father."
Sharp lowered his head, a sharp glint in his eyes. "I will never lose to the same opponent twice. This time, I shall wash away my disgrace!"
*
The next day.
Sharp, who hadn't slept all night, arrived at the Imperial Palace early.
The Marquis’s mansion was still a mess. Before dawn, Sharp’s energy had been entirely spent dealing with the knight orders and various nobles who seemed kind but were actually ill-intentioned.
After all, there were likely few nobles in Belland who would dare to publicly allow others to help them "rebuild their mansion and investigate criminals."
Many things were better off destroyed than brought to light.
Besides, Sharp already knew exactly who the "criminal" was, didn't he?
And now, what he had to do was make that criminal regret her actions.
After entering the palace, he made his way to the elegant grand doors. Sharp straightened his formal suit and cast several Clarity Spells on himself to ensure he was in peak condition. He reviewed his prepared speech one last time, ensuring there would be no flaws in this debate and application of pressure. Finally... he pushed open the doors to the Royal Conference Hall.
Gentle sunlight plated everything in brilliant gold. Sharp squinted, his gaze quickly sweeping across the hall.
Regent Oranriel, First Prince Albert, Marquis Angus, Marquis Modor, Count Bugard... and even Princess Celicia, who sat calmly as if none of this concerned her.
Whether they were the protagonists or supporting characters of this story, the most powerful people in the Empire were all gathered here.
This was Sharp’s stage—the stage where he would redeem himself for last night’s failure!
Sharp held his head high and, at the Pink Bear’s signal, walked toward the long conference table.
Then... his gaze naturally drifted to the end of the table, toward an elderly man who shouldn't have been there.
Sharp froze in his tracks.
"Ahem, it seems everyone is here."
The Pink Bear flipped through the documents in his paws. "Although it feels like making a mountain out of a molehill to discuss this at the Imperial Council, it is a request from a Marquis’s family, so we must perfunctorily... I mean, properly resolve it."
"But before that, I have a question."
The Pink Bear looked up, staring in confusion at the dumbstruck Sharp.
"Lord Sharp, you accuse Celicia of hiring people to attack the Marquis’s mansion and stealing your father’s corpse, preventing him from resting in peace. But..."
The Pink Bear turned his head toward the elderly man smiling at the end of the table.
"Your old man... isn't he sitting right here, perfectly fine?"