Chapter 585: Fangs
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 585: Fangs
"I see."
Muen nodded in realization.
In short, since His Majesty Audrich III had not personally abdicated the throne to Albert, the prince had to find another way to prove he was the legitimate Emperor of the Empire.
That proof was the Sword of Kings.
"So, his current priority is to find the Sword of Kings and gain its recognition."
"Recognition?" Muen asked in surprise. "The Sword of Kings has its own consciousness?"
"..."
Celicia looked at him again as if he were an idiot. "Both of the daggers in your hands possess a Living Spirit. Why would you think the Sword of Kings, which has guarded the Empire for a thousand years, wouldn't have one?"
"...Fair point." Muen let out an awkward, dry laugh.
While Elizabeth’s foundation came from one of the former Holy Swords and had been personally forged and smelted by Teacher Mela—giving it no small amount of prestige—it paled in comparison to the Sword of Kings. Elizabeth’s trait of "increasing combat power by twenty percent at any stage" was impressive, but the Sword of Kings was a straight-up "cheat" that added fifty thousand combat power, allowing an ordinary person to become a Crowned powerhouse at the pinnacle of humanity. It was definitely on another level.
However...
Muen suddenly remembered something and frowned. "But if the Sword of Kings has its own consciousness, can Albert actually gain its recognition?"
Muen pointed to his own head, his meaning clear.
Neither Albert’s mind nor his soul were the original parts. The moment he touched the Sword of Kings, the consciousness within the blade would surely notice. Would it really recognize someone who wasn't even part of the royal family as the Emperor?
"Probably... yes," Celicia said, her eyelids drooping slightly.
"Why?"
"The intelligence of a Living Spirit ultimately cannot compare to a real human. It will most likely act according to established rules. And as I’ve said before, the most important thing for the royal family isn't the mind, nor the soul, but..."
Celicia raised her hand and stared at the back of it. Beneath that fair skin and within those blue veins, hot blood was currently flowing.
"The bloodline. The royal bloodline—that is the most important thing."
"The bloodline... and this 'most important thing' was held by the enemy from the very beginning?"
"Yes. That is why they were so clever. Of course, without this ultimate trump card, they wouldn't have even dared to step up to the gambling table."
"But now, they haven't just stepped up; they've struck first and are winning big with a mountain of chips," Muen lamented.
In the previous round of maneuvering, although they had managed to claw back some ground and force the enemy to act before they were fully prepared, that loss was only a minor setback for the opposition. It hadn't dealt a crippling blow. Their own situation remained incredibly precarious.
Fortunately, it was precisely because of that small loss that everyone was still at the table. The final outcome was yet to be decided.
"Correct. From the current situation, Albert is only one step away from success. He holds a massive advantage."
Celicia’s tone was flat, as if she were describing something that had nothing to do with her. There wasn't a single ripple in her ice-lake eyes.
"Our only way to win now is to retake control of the Sword of Kings and the Imperial Palace. Only by stripping him of his qualification to sit on that throne can we truly pin him down."
"Is it hard?"
"Extremely."
"Are you afraid?" Muen asked suddenly.
The two of them weren't just chatting idly during this crisis; they were conversing as they hurried along. Now, the palace was not far off, crouching in the shadows of the night like a fierce beast with its bloody maw open, ready to devour anyone who approached.
"Afraid?" Celicia, still moving swiftly, shot him a puzzled look.
"After all, now that we've come this far, no one has a way out..."
Albert—or rather, the "old bastard" hiding inside Albert’s body—was certainly not a merciful man. Once he successfully ascended the throne, he would never let Celicia or the Campbell family go, no matter the cost. These parasites, who had long sucked the blood of the Empire’s roots for their own gain, didn't care about the Empire's long-term future. To protect their power and wealth, they would likely even cede imperial territory to the Demon Race.
"I thought you were going to say something stupid again," Celicia said with a sudden, light chuckle.
She was someone who rarely smiled. But if one had to describe the smile of this "ice mountain" beauty, even this slightly mocking, somewhat disdainful, and utterly cold smile made Muen feel as though the deep night around them had momentarily brightened.
"To ask such a question... do you really think I would be afraid?"
Celicia didn't answer directly, instead tossing the question back with a faint, knowing smile. It seemed she simply didn't want to answer, but the slight sideways glance of her eyes told Muen that this wasn't a question he could just brush off.
Was this a case of shooting himself in the foot?
Not exactly. Answering this kind of question wasn't difficult for the now-experienced Muen.
However...
"If you're asking me... I think you probably are a little afraid."
Muen thought for a moment, rubbing his chin as he gazed at the palace, and slowly gave the answer he knew was "wrong."
"After all, in such a short time, both of your brothers have died one after another, and your father is gravely ill with his fate unknown. No matter how thin your feelings for them might be, no one could remain completely unmoved."
"Furthermore, the pressure of the entire Empire is now resting on your shoulders. You aren't actually a mountain of ice; you can't carry everything forever."
How could a girl who became so adorable when drunk truly be emotionless?
It was precisely because of that burning heart hidden beneath the ice that she couldn't ignore the scenes she had witnessed in the Lower District, which was why she was standing here now. But in reality, she was still just a girl, a year younger than himself.
"...Stupid."
Celicia clearly scoffed at Muen’s answer. She let out a cold hum and turned her head away.
"Is that so..." Muen carefully studied Celicia’s expression, which seemed to have grown a few degrees colder, and smiled. "Still as arro—"
Clang—
Her long sword left its scabbard slightly.
Muen immediately straightened his face and said seriously, "How could the beautiful and powerful Princess Celicia be afraid? I was just talking nonsense."
Clang.
The sword was pushed back in. Muen breathed a sigh of relief.
But looking at Celicia’s unchanging profile, something in his brain misfired, and he suddenly said, "Actually... it's not like I have no way out at all. At the very least, a certain old loli would definitely give me sanctuary. So..."
"Hmm?" Celicia’s face once again showed that puzzled, cute expression.
"Ahem... I mean, if we accidentally fail, how about... I support you in secret?" Muen said earnestly.
The moment the words left his mouth, Muen felt a deep sense of regret for his habit of seeking death at critical moments. He tensed his glutes, bracing himself to be kicked into the distance by Celicia.
But...
"Okay."
"Huh?"
Muen froze, thinking he was hallucinating.
But a hallucination couldn't be this moving. Celicia lightly brushed the hair from her forehead, her silver-white strands like frost and snow tossed by a breeze. Her eyes flickered slightly as she whispered her reply.
"I said, okay."
"..."
The voice was clear in his ears; it definitely wasn't a hallucination.
It was late spring in Belland, so even though the night was at its thickest, it wasn't as cold as one might imagine. Yet Muen felt as if he were frozen in place, staring blankly at Celicia’s exquisite face.
That flawless face remained expressionless, showing no ripple of emotion, like an ice sculpture carved by a master. But deep within those ice-blue eyes were surging undercurrents, melting snow, and the chaotic light of spring...
Ripples spread across the lake, triggering a sympathetic throb in his own heart. Her lips were pink and tender, like plum blossoms blooming in the snow.
Muen stared blankly. Just those simple words had drawn him in with a pulse that linked their heartbeats. He subconsciously took a step forward...
"President!"
Vicky popped out from nowhere. "Everything is ready!"
"..."
"Eh? Muen Campbell, why are you staring at me with such a sour face? Did I eat your steak? Did I drink your red wine?"
"...Your timing," Muen said through gritted teeth, "is impeccable."
"Of course! The situation is urgent, so naturally, I won't waste a single second. Do you think everyone likes to slack off as much as you do?" Vicky tilted her small head up, putting on the air of being Celicia’s number-one lackey.
"Since everything is ready."
Celicia turned slightly and brushed her hair again, acting as if nothing had just happened. "Then let us begin."
"..."
*
Following Vicky, the two of them reached a carriage hidden in the dense woods.
However, as the carriage sped forward, Muen realized they weren't heading toward the Imperial Palace.
"Where are we going? Aren't we going to the palace?"
"You didn't think that with just the few of us, we were going to force our way into a palace currently under Albert’s control, did you?"
This time, Celicia didn't give him the "idiot" look, mostly because Vicky was already shoving a mocking expression right in Muen’s face.
"Stupid, stupid, mgh—"
Muen pushed Vicky’s chubby face away. "Then what are we..."
"We're here."
The carriage stopped.
Muen poked his head out and found they were at a vast courtyard—no, perhaps "courtyard" wasn't the right word. The fences on the walls he saw were like rows of inverted spears gleaming with a cold light, wrapped in barbed wire.
Outside the main gate, on the chests of the knights standing tall and straight, blood-red roses bloomed silently.
"This is..."
"Unlike the Royal Mage Corps, which is stationed at the palace, the Royal Knight Order is divided into two parts. The Marigold Knight Order is responsible for guarding the palace, while the other—the Blood Rose—is responsible for the security and defense of the Upper District."
Celicia stepped out of the carriage. Before long, a disheveled, pot-bellied middle-aged man practically crawled and scrambled his way to her. He squeezed out a smile and said, "Princess... Princess, what... what brings you here?"
"Count Charles, good evening."
Celicia nodded slightly. "There has been an incident at the palace; intruders have broken in. I wish to borrow some men from you to eliminate the rebels."
"Re... rebels?" Charles wiped away sweat and gave a forced laugh. "That shouldn't be necessary. Even if the Forbidden Spell has failed, I imagine the knights over there are more than enough to handle some so-called intruders."
"Oh?" Celicia raised a beautiful eyebrow. "It seems Count Charles, who looks like he just crawled out of a woman's bed, actually knows that the palace Forbidden Spell has failed?"
Charles’s expression shifted—first to terror, then instantly to a dark gloom. He bounced up from the ground like a ball and pointed at Celicia, shouting, "Kill her! Kill—"
Splat.
Blood sprayed.
The expression on Charles’s fat face, which had just shown a desperate gamble, gradually froze.
"You..."
He slumped to the ground. In his final moments, he saw out of the corner of his eye that the person who had stabbed him in the back was his most trusted deputy. This was a commoner he had personally promoted so that while he spent his days in debauchery, someone would be there to work like an ox to handle the Upper District's security—and, when necessary, be pushed forward to take the fall.
But now, he was the one taking the blade.
"Your Highness."
The knight, covered in blood, knelt respectfully before Celicia.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes. The entire Blood Rose Knight Order is ready and waiting."
In the darkness, eerie shadows flickered, mingled with the thick scent of blood. The so-called "preparation" was certainly more than just standing in a neat line. Purging dissenters was a mandatory step whenever one chose a side.
Celicia gave a slight nod of approval to these absolutely loyal knights.
Watching from the side, Muen felt a secret chill.
Tonight, this princess, who was "without any real power" in name, had finally bared her fangs.