Chapter 601: The King of Pride (Part 5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 601: The King of Pride (Part 5)
"That was pretty cool."
"What did you say?"
"Just now, I mean."
Muen leaned in with a mischievous grin, nudging Celicia’s shoulder. "The whole 'never letting the price of bread rise' thing? That was cool as hell."
"Shut up."
"Oh."
The streets outside the Imperial Palace were now eerily empty and silent. Even the fighting at the palace itself seemed to have ground to a halt; everyone had turned their attention to the titanic clash between Albert and the Indra King.
"Quickly! To the Emperor's side! Protect His Majesty!"
The two watched coldly as a pot-bellied noble, leading a squad of guards, ran past them panting. An expression of blatant excitement was plastered across his fatty face, as if his mere presence would instantly end the battle, crush the Indra King, and earn him a mountain of merit.
"These guys only move this fast at times like this," Muen remarked.
"We should be glad they are enemies and not allies. But regardless of whose side they're on... at this rate, the Indra King won't be able to hold out much longer."
Muen sighed as he watched the Indra King fall further into a disadvantage in the distance. "So, what do we do now? I’m at a total loss with that thing. We can't exactly challenge him to a duel—it's just the two of us, a Fourth-Tier and a Fifth-Tier."
The Sword of Kings lived up to its reputation. With the power of a peak Crown Bearer backed by the legal legitimacy of the Imperial Emperor, even the army didn't dare move against him. In fact, many would likely defect to Albert’s side because of it. If Muen were in Albert’s shoes, he wouldn't even know how he could possibly lose.
"First... let’s straighten out our thoughts," Celicia said calmly.
"Straighten out our thoughts?"
Muen turned to her in bewilderment. "Is there any point in that now? Albert has the Sword of Kings. Even if we figure out his schemes, does it even matter?"
"What Albert does isn't important, but there are other matters that are."
Celicia looked down at her fair, slender arm. "For instance... the most fundamental question: who is our true enemy?"
"The true enemy... isn't it the Inner Council? Albert?" Muen frowned, growing more confused.
Celicia didn't answer. She continued to stare at her arm, holding her breath in deep concentration as if she were performing a delicate task.
Soon, Muen thought he might be imagining it, but the chill that always clung to Celicia’s body seemed to be gradually dissipating.
"What are you doing...?"
"Just attempting to seal the Divine Blessing of the Ice-Snow Goddess," Celicia whispered.
"Is that even possible?"
"This blessing has been with me since birth. While I’ve never tried to seal it before, all these years of striving to control it haven't been for nothing."
As soon as she spoke, Muen felt the chill surrounding Celicia vanish completely. In that instant, she seemed to transform from the formidable Ice Witch back into an ordinary young girl.
However, the icy lakes of her eyes remained as still as ever. It seemed her cold temperament wasn't a result of the Divine Blessing, but simply her natural personality.
"Why would you do such a—"
Muen’s words cut off as his eyes narrowed.
He saw it clearly: as the chill left Celicia’s body, blood-red patterns suddenly surfaced on the pale skin of her arm. Simultaneously, he heard the distinct sound of rushing fluid; the blood in Celicia’s veins was surging at a violent, unnatural speed.
An abnormal flush rose to Celicia’s cheeks, and her breathing became ragged.
"This is..."
Alarmed, Muen rushed to support her, helping her steady her breathing. She had only just begun to recover from her injuries; this would surely take a toll on her body.
"So... it really is like this?"
Leaning against Muen, a flash of pain crossed Celicia’s eyes, yet a faint smile played on her lips. "It seems my hypothesis was correct."
"What exactly is this?"
"Blood Surge Disease."
"Blood Surge Disease? I’ve never heard of it..."
"It is a strange and extremely rare blood disorder. Those afflicted cannot control their own essence and blood; it surges wildly, impossible to calm. In the later stages, the blood even bursts through the skin and seeps out of the body... It’s normal that you haven't heard of it."
Celicia paused. "But if I tell you that the Pink Bear suffers from this same condition, you should understand."
Muen’s pupils shrank. "You mean... this disease is the Royal Curse?"
"Yes. The Royal Curse."
Celicia turned her wrist, calmly observing the symptoms that had plagued the Pink Bear for decades.
"It is a part of the Royal Curse—or rather, one of its most terrifying manifestations. It is what turned the greatest royal genius in a thousand years into that creature who spends his days reading erotic books, scratching his backside, and wandering around in a ridiculous fursuit."
"I thought that suit was just... a specific hobby of his."
"He does enjoy it, but while that Pink Bear suit looks ridiculous, it is a genuine Ancient Artifact. It helps him seal his blood energy. Without it, he would have bled out from the inside decades ago."
"But... if it’s the Royal Curse, why is it on you?" Muen’s expression grew increasingly grim. "Didn't you say before? In every generation of the royalty, only the most exceptional individual is cursed. In your generation, the one cursed was Albert."
"Indeed, I did say that. But the sense of dissonance I felt from the Sword of Kings made me doubt it. Thus, I suspected... the one cursed wasn't Albert, but me. I am the most exceptional member of this royal generation."
Celicia answered in a low voice, her beautiful face showing no emotion despite the self-praise.
"As for Brother Albert... it’s quite simple. He just has a mundane, congenital brain defect."
"..."
Muen opened his mouth, suddenly finding himself speechless.
"I previously thought this was just a side effect of being rejected by the Sword of Kings... Heh, I didn't expect this to be the truth. Everything makes sense now."
Celicia smiled, though the expression was somewhat haunting.
"I am the one who was cursed, but because of my innate Ice-Snow Divine Blessing, the curse was suppressed. I didn't even notice it myself, which is why I was confused before. But now, I understand... why that sword rejected me."
"Why?" Muen asked, his confusion deepening. "If the Sword of Kings is meant to choose the most suitable successor to the throne, then by any metric, you are the superior choice. Why would it reject you?"
"Because it is afraid of me."
Celicia suddenly clenched her fist. Ice began to frost over her skin again, rapidly driving back the blood-red patterns.
"It is afraid that because of this low-probability Divine Blessing, I—who am not shackled by the curse—might become the next Emperor! It fears me, it loathes me, and so it did not choose me... Therefore, to return to the previous question: our true enemy is not the Inner Council, and certainly not Albert, who doesn't even realize he’s become a puppet... It is that Sword of Kings. It is the hideous shadow lurking beneath the blinding light of the Imperial Authority!"
"It is the very rules woven by the First King a thousand years ago!"
"The Sword of Kings is the very source of the Royal Curse!"