Chapter 235
The wizards casted healing magic into the prince, their faces solemn, and only withdrew their hands once the bleeding had stopped. Arwen never took her eyes from the prince, then carefully hugged him. Her pure white dress quickly turned red with his blood, but she didn’t care about this at all. She embraced the drooping Crown Prince, making sure not to disturb his wounds.
Carls Ulrich stepped forward to take the prince from her. Right then- ‘Ftt’ the prince, who they had thought completely fainted, opened his eyes. He started speaking, but the sound was weak and soft, so his words couldn’t be heard well. It was only Carls and Arwen who heard the prince’s words.
“Yes, your Highness, don’t worry,” Arwen answered gently, and the prince closed his eyes again, his face filled with relief. This time, he was utterly unconscious.
“What did my son say?” the king asked. A troubled look appeared on Arwen’s face. The king didn’t understand why she felt like that; only Carls understood, for he had also heard the prince’s request. Carls knew Arwen’s difficulties and even sympathized – because the prince’s words had been so erratic.
“It’s mine,” he had said, “If anyone touches it, I’ll never leave them alone.”
At first, Carls had not understood what the Crown Prince had said. When he realized the prince spoke of the greatsword that had been wielded by the enemy knight, he almost burst into laughter.
In fact, it was nothing new; the prince had faced and defeated a great knight, but all he worried about was getting the sword. It was a rather childish thing to say. For Carls, who knew the Crown Prince’s nature, his request was a very usual one. But that fact and the current situation were separate matters. Carls glanced around.
Numerous people were gathered here, including nobles and knights of the kingdom and envoys from other countries. They were still unable to break away from the spell of the glorious battle they had witnessed, and they looked at the prince as if they looked at a great knight that would never exist again. It was a bit embarrassing to convey the Crown Prince’s instructions in front of all these people.
This would be especially true of Arwen Kirgayen, who was famous for her discretion.
“Is it a secret that cannot be revealed here?” the king pressed.
“Not really…” said Carls while he searched for the right words. “His Highness the Prince has advised that the sword used by the enemy knight, a magic sword, could harm those who touch it without knowing how to handle the magic,” Carls answered the king, making his words diplomatic on the prince’s behalf. “So, if possible, avoid all contact with the sword until the prince awakens. But his Highness knows the sword cannot be left here, so he asked Sir Arwen to look after it.”
It was what the Crown Prince had said, Carls thought. Even if he said it in a way more concerned about someone touching his stuff, Carls could not lie in front of the king, nor could he have remained silent. The king glanced at Carls, then thanked him.
“I will take the prince to his palace,” said Carls as he approached Arwen and reached out his hand.
Arwen’s expression slightly hardened as she alternately looked at the prince in her arms and the magic sword on the ground. In her heart, she knew that the prince had to be moved, but she struggled to release him, not wanting to lose the prince while having to take up the sinister sword.
“Lady Arwen.”
Eventually, she sighed and handed the prince over. Carls carefully embraced the prince’s body, then looked at the king and nodded. Carls started walking along as he held onto the prince.
The nobles and knights of the kingdom who had gathered around them retreated and gave way, and Carls walked down the middle of the path that they cleared.
‘chuck’
Wherever he passed, people knelt silently.
Among them were Leonberg’s knights and nobles and the foreign envoys who had visited the kingdom to attend the banquet. There were even some of the kingdom’s proud champions who knelt, and all of them paid homage in a consistent manner. They put their right fists onto their hearts and reverently bowed their heads. Carls stopped as he took in the scene. Here he carried a boy who had lived under gazes filled with contempt and ridicule. The eldest son of the royal family, who had grown upon without receiving the respect due to him. A prince who was abandoned even by his father and was driven to the northern part of Leonberg.
It made Carls feel overwhelmed to see that the Crown Prince was honored like this now.
He tried hard to hide his passion and forced himself to continue taking steps. He straightened his chest and raised his shoulders. Don’t let the prince know that you are lax in your duties, he thought. Carls walked through the great crowd of people as he left for the prince’s palace.
The same counted for the king, who watched silently and could not stand his rising emotions.
At the same time, though, the king’s feelings were also different. While the reverence shown by the palace knight came from a sense of joy and respect, the king’s emotions were caused by his guilt.
To see his son’s body, so bloody after the fight- While Lionel Leonberger had been sitting on the throne and killing time, his son had been fighting a desperate battle. The king suddenly recalled a conversation he had with his eldest son a few years ago.
‘So where are you right now? And where were you?’
Lionel had felt only anger when his son had said this because he had considered the words to be a ploy to dishonor his person. Why does this child insult me publicly, the king had thought? After all the long years of hardship I have faced?
Looking back on it, it had been a truly sloppy response. The king had regretted it again and again. There was no way to undo what was said in the past, however. It was a fact that everyone had known back then; only the king had been ignorant of it. So, Lionel decided to stop thinking about the past and all the regrets that he could not change. He did not intend to make the same mistake again. King Lionel saw the future, not the past.
He would make the kingdom rich again, whatever it took. And the throne upon which his son would sit will be all the more brilliant. That was the method of atonement the king had pledged he would employ, and this was just the beginning.
The king looked around, and saw the kingdom’s nobles and knights, and shouted out loud.
“Behold! How fleeting is the promise of the unfaithful ones!”
The eyes of the nobles began to burn. Wrath arose like wildfire as everyone considered the ruthless imperial knights who had invaded the heart of the kingdom, ignoring previous negotiations. The king looked away and saw the members of the foreign delegations.
“Behold! This the price for having a greedy little boy that calls himself emperor as a neighbor!”
Anxiety mixed with hatred and emerged on the faces of the envoys.
“The Empire’s knight has said that the nightmare has already begun!”
Instead of appeasing the envoys, the king fed their anxiety – regardless of whether the Nightmare Knight had spoken the truth when he had said the war had already begun. Perhaps even at this moment, the Imperial Army had started marching, aimed like a spear at so many countries.
The envoys murmured; their pale faces were filled with fear. Some of them shook their asses as if they would return to their home countries right away. The king watched them quietly. Then, when the fear and anxiety that spread among them reached its peak, he asked a question.
“Will you fight alone and perish! Or will we fight together and win?!”
It was a question that wouldn’t have worked at other times. Prior to this, while they had still been predicting how successful a war against the Empire would be, the envoys would have sought a means to avoid that war.
But now was different; now, the imperial knight had so much as given a declaration of war. Now, the envoys had seen the inhuman power of the Penta Knight. What they’ve been through today was enough to drive them to the edge. Now came the time for the cornered rat to bite the cat.
“We will fight together!”
“We can’t sit still and be beaten!”
The king inwardly smiled as he heard their shouts; now was the time.
“Our kingdom supports your choice and will be happy to be your ally if necessary!”
On the outside, King Lionel played the role of a trusted friend. Not everyone had lost their composure enough to get swept up by the king’s agitation, however. Some of the envoys had stepped back to observe the situation.
One of them now stepped forward and asked in fluent Leonbergian, “Would Leonberg have the power to do that?”
The simmering atmosphere sank as if cold water had been poured over it.
“If the war begins again, we are asking if Leonberg can afford to look elsewhere.”
In that silence, the envoys waited for the king to speak. Even faced with such a blatant question, the king’s expression remained unchanged.
“When we warred with the Empire, we defeated thirty-seven knight squadrons and destroyed forty-two. We burned down twenty-nine estates located in the southern and central regions of the Empire and slew their lords, burning their bodies. Eleven imperial legions were destroyed in the process.”
The king merely listed the past victories of Leonberg in a bleak tone.
“The kingdom won, the Empire was defeated, and-” the king turned his head, “in this place, today, Leonberg has won another victory.”
He gestured at the puddle of red blood and pieces of torn iron. In the middle of it all lay scattered the terrible pieces of the Penta Knight’s corpse. The king looked at the gored body without a word. It was a silent demonstration, and it was a silence that was more persuasive than a hundred words.
“Indeed. That is a good answer.” The envoy who had come forward bowed his head and withdrew. After that, no one came forward to question the power of Leonberg.
“All remaining scheduled events will be canceled, so make sure to take care of your minds and bodies. Afterward, I will make a judgment once I pondered the current situation with a clear mind.”
The king declared that all official events were over. The envoys bowed their heads and said goodbye to the king, and he passed them by. Then he suddenly stopped to say something, as if just remembering.
“Dotrin and Teuton and some of the other kingdoms have already decided to share their forces. Please include that factor in your judgment.”
King Lionel made it clear that those who reached out their hands in alliance first would be treated differently than those who took advantage of the turmoil and only hopped onto the bandwagon at a later stage. At that, the envoys raised their heads.
However, the king did not spare them a second glance as he left.
* * *
“It took only two days,” said the Marquis of Bielefeld. “Just two days before the envoys started to ask for audiences with his Majesty as if competing for his attention.”
While lying on my bed, I questioned Bielefeld about the situation.
“Dotrin was our ally from the beginning, and Teuton also signed their treaty, so yes… but what other kingdoms joined us?”
“Most are countries that have already conducted close discussions with his Majesty prior to the banquet. Also, the delegation that was led by the envoy who asked his Majesty how powerful our kingdom was.”
Hearing that, I had to admire the monarch a little. It was completely unexpected that the king had prepared so many things while I was playing with my true body. In that moment, I felt duly rewarded for saving the king by using the precious Nectar.
“They will all probably say that they have reached consensus in advance and that his Majesty’s words only swayed them a little bit,” I mused. Maybe Bielefeld didn’t like my manner of speech, as I saw he was about to begin his nagging again. So, I spoke first.
“It’s like that, or it’s not. And if you want to talk with me seriously, then put down that bottle of liquor. Isn’t it normal for such a classy nobleman to pour alcohol into a glass?”
I suddenly frowned upon realizing that all the precious liquor gifted to me by the princess of Teuton was flowing into the marquis’ belly.
“Is it important whether you drink from a glass or a bottle? The important thing is to savor the taste of the liquor.”
The marquis didn’t put down the bottle in his hand while he made his decent excuses with an embarrassed face. I wanted to take the bottle from him right away, but my body didn’t have enough strength in it. After giving a long groan, I finally buried myself back in my bed.
Seeing me like that, the marquis seemed a bit sorry and returned to the topic at hand.
“Rather, does your Highness know what people call you?”
“What do they call me?” I asked bluntly, and the marquis answered with a smile.
“Your Highness is called the Knight of the Dawn because of your image — wielding a blazing blue sword while cutting into the aura of a dying moon created by the Penta Knight. It was as if dawn was driving away the night.”
“What?”
The moment I heard the marquis speak, my heart beat faster, thumping in my breast.
“The Knight of the Dawn. Isn’t that a noble and grandiose name that appeared somewhere in the old heroic tales?” the marquis asked. Faced with my beating heart, I inadvertently frowned.
“You look embarrassed,” the marquis teased me as he saw me frown. I felt somehow… distant.
“This is your Highness’s own work. The first thing you said was about the light of the dawn that wakes people from nightmares. Your Highness …”
The marquis’ voice started to fade farther away until it stopped being heard — and silence surrounded me. Somewhere, I heard the sound of a howling wind. There was no wind in my room; the windows were closed. My eyesight became blurred. A fantastical landscape emerged from within that hazy view.
There was a man in the middle of a snowfield, a man kneeling on both knees, his head bowed as he drove his broken sword into the frozen ground. I was looking at him as if possessed.
‘Fsch!’
The man raised his head, then bowed it again. His face looked strangely fuzzy. Out of nowhere, he raised his broken sword.
‘Fuwchook,’ then he stabbed it into his chest without hesitation.
‘Dudududud!’ I felt pain as if my heart was being dug out of iron. I panicked as I grabbed my chest. At that very moment, the hazy face turned straight at me.
The man’s pale lips were stretched into a smile.