The Empire's First Prince
"...So this is, right now…"
"It is a dullahan's head."
Martin frowned.
No matter how one tried to package it, the dullahan's head—which emitted the stench of something half-rotted and decayed—was revolting.
He forced his expression back under control.
"There were hundreds of dullahans. And Death Knights, even a lich."
"Death Knights and a lich?"
"Death Knights are legion commanders. Each commands hundreds to thousands of troops. What I witnessed is only a tiny fraction. No one knows how many undead are nesting deep within the gorge."
They were far too few to collapse the Empire itself.
But if they rampaged with full intent, they could completely wipe out the area surrounding the Hapstlein Gorge.
"There might be multiple black magicians. It would be difficult for a single one to raise that many troops, wouldn't it?"
"...Indeed."
The added exaggeration made Martin swallow a groan.
"Hillen Cargill. It seems you were right."
"I speak only the truth, Your Highness. I wished to bring more evidence, but the situation was urgent. I regret that I could not."
"I understand. And you have brought enough. The mere fact that a black magician capable of creating a dullahan exists is something the Empire cannot ignore."
Black magicians in Arein had been nearly exterminated. No—exterminated entirely.
So the existence of a black magician summoning dullahans was a considerable shock.
Especially with recent movements from the Demon Kings, it raised all alarms.
We must eliminate them in advance.
Before the black magician faction grew any larger.
"I must report to His Majesty and take action."
"I do not think that is wise, Your Highness."
"What do you mean?"
"I know Your Highness cherishes the people. But this matter is not something that should proceed so simply. I would prefer that Your Highness make thorough preparations, then report the matter—and claim the credit."
"That is somewhat presumptuous."
Even if Hillen Cargill was extraordinary, even if he had achieved great merit this time, interfering with the succession was an entirely different matter.
"It is only advice."
"Do you take me for a fool?"
"By now—or soon—other princes will surely have realized my involvement. That I am aiding Your Highness. And placing myself under your protection."
"So you intend to bet on me?"
"Yes, I would like to place that bet."
"I do not need the help of a Hero or the Hero Guild."
"Of course neither Their Highnesses nor His Majesty would want me to step forward. But these black magicians are extremely dangerous. The Demon King might be involved. No—he is involved."
A black magician could only be made through a contract with a Demon King. That was the continent-wide common belief.
"Is it strange for a Hero to join the effort to crush a Demon King's scheme?"
"..."
He wasn't wrong.
It was a problem for a Hero—or the Hero Guild—to interfere in imperial succession, but when Demon Kings were involved, the presence of a Hero was practically essential.
It was possible to slay demons and perhaps even Demon Kings without a Hero.
But why? Why suffer greater losses when a faster, safer option existed?
No nation would willingly pay that price.
"...For now, wait here. I will continue treating you as a guest."
"Yes. Thank you."
Martin issued the dismissal. Hillen Cargill exited.
"What do you think?"
"He is not incorrect."
The royal guard bowed.
"If this were merely succession politics, involving him would be a blunder. But this involves black magicians—and possibly a Demon King. His involvement may turn out favorable."
"Do you think Hillen Cargill anticipated all this when he approached me?"
"To be frank… yes. You should be cautious. He carries a fox inside his belly."
"You see him the same way I do."
Martin turned his gaze to the dullahan head Hillen had left behind.
"What do you think Hillen Cargill is planning?"
"Surely not what he stated directly."
"Of course. If he wanted help, wouldn't going to my elder brothers make more sense?"
"But even if he wants much, he will not overstep."
Arrogant, yet accurate.
The Empire and the imperial bloodline were such things.
No matter how many Demon Kings Hillen had slain, if the Empire's wrath was provoked, Hillen could not withstand it. No one could.
"And at least for this matter, accepting him is to Your Highness's advantage."
"Indeed."
The offer was too sweet.
Thus—
"I will accept it."
Gladly.
***
A sealed imperial order was delivered to the Count of Trabian, keeper of the Hapstlein Gorge.
The visitor who discreetly sought the count was none other than Baron Torion—the very man known as the Emperor's mouth in the capital.
"Please accept this, my lord."
"Hm."
The luxurious sealed letter bore the golden dragon sigil of the Emperor.
Count Trabian carefully accepted it.
"It is a secret order from His Majesty."
"...Investigate the presence of black magicians hiding within the Hapstlein Gorge?"
"You must confirm it as swiftly as possible and report directly to His Majesty."
"Wait—black magicians? What do you mean?"
"Exactly what it says."
"I have guarded this gorge for over nine years since inheriting the title of Count. I know this gorge better than anyone."
"Are you implying His Majesty invented a threat that does not exist?"
"No, that is not what I meant…"
"There is reliable intelligence."
"Intelligence? I am the one responsible for the gorge—who could possibly gather intelligence I do not know of?"
"That, I cannot tell you."
"A fact has leaked from my territory without my knowing?"
"It has not leaked. You simply did not know. About something that occurred within your jurisdiction, my lord—and you, its steward."
"..."
"..."
Their gazes clashed. The count ground his teeth.
"His Majesty…"
"His Majesty is giving you another chance. That is why I have come with this secret order."
"So there truly is a black magician?"
"I understand you reported that monster activity has been decreasing in recent years."
"That is true."
"You said you could not determine the cause. But if a black magician—a necromancer—is using the gorge's magi to create undead, does that not make perfect sense?"
"Even the Heroes could not find such a thing."
"It is said they are hiding in the innermost depths of the gorge—in the underground chambers beneath the place where the Demon King's Tower once stood. Have you ever gone that deep?"
"Underground…?"
He hadn't even known it existed.
"Please convey my reverence for His Majesty's boundless mercy. I shall find them without pale."
"Yes. I will make the report."
"I will see those scoundrels punished with my own hands—"
"No. That is not allowed."
"What do you mean?"
"Your task is only to identify them. Nothing more. That is His Majesty's will."
"His Majesty is planning something?"
"You will soon understand."
"…Very well."
"Then, I leave it in your hands."
"Tell His Majesty that I am deeply grateful for His divine mercy—and I will not disappoint him this time."
"Yes. I shall."
The baron bowed.
***
Berze unfolded a copy of the Imperial newspaper.
[Shock—Undead traces discovered in the Hapstlein Gorge…]
[Is Hapstlein Gorge a hideout for black magicians?]
[What was the gorge's guardian doing?]
[Skeletons, zombies, even dullahans—how did the gorge become an undead nest?]
[Hundreds of thousands of undead hidden inside the gorge? The real reason the Empire is in crisis!]
[Chernian Border Count: Assault on the Tower of Frost is premature…]
[Why are the Snowfields in chaos? Northern barbarians making their move?]
The newspaper always reflected the Empire's hottest issues.
Recently, two major incidents had erupted: the undead crisis in the Hapstlein Gorge, and the unrest in the Snowfields.
But the Snowfields' issue had already cooled over several months; naturally, attention shifted to Hapstlein.
With each day, rumors grew more exaggerated—especially those concerning undead.
"Is this the Third Prince's doing?"
"I suspect so. He is inflating the black magicians' strength to make Hero involvement absolutely necessary."
"If not by the Third Prince's initiative, it might even be by the Emperor's will."
A guess—but also a certainty.
Even before Berze's regression, events had played out similarly.
And then—
"Th… th—this…!"
"Don't—!"
A loud crash echoed. Footsteps—many—and the sound of steel being drawn filled the air.
Click.
The door opened. Knights swept in, securing the room. Through their formation, a man strode inside.
"So it is you."
He looked down arrogantly at Berze and Hillen.
"The famed Hillen Cargill—and pale."
The man radiated nobility. His presence alone exuded the overwhelming aura of a conqueror. A born ruler, bearing the dignity of a sovereign lineage. All flattering descriptions fit him naturally.
Hillen rose and bowed.
"I greet His Highness, Prince Rufus Jespine."
"You know me?"
"I would venture to say more people know Your Highness than not."
"Is that so."
Rufus nodded. His golden hair—like Kaede's and Martin's—glimmered brilliantly. His even more radiant golden eyes curved faintly.
He pulled out a chair and sat without hesitation. At his gesture, Hillen and Berze also took their seats.
"I've heard much of your reputation. Among all Heroes of recent years, you are said to be the finest."
"You honor me."
"A Hero who slays a Demon King is rare. Let alone one who has slain two."
Rufus's lips curved smoothly.
"Seeing you in person, I understand. Your aura, your composure, your manner of speech—everything pleases me."
"Thank you for the praise."
"Ah—would someone bring tea?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
Soon, maids served tea.
"Please."
"Thank you."
Rufus stirred his cup with a spoon.
"I hear you came to the capital at Martin's request."
Calm as tea-drinking, he suddenly struck like a blade.
"Yes, that is correct."
"Because of the black magician faction causing chaos in Hapstlein Gorge?"
"Yes."
"Did Martin truly summon you first?"
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"Martin claims he discovered the black magicians before anyone else. But the Count of Trabian didn't know—and he watches the gorge daily. How could Martin have known?"
"I am not aware."
"No—I think you are."
He sipped his tea.
"The order of events is wrong. It wasn't that he saw the anomaly and requested aid from a Hero. Rather, he heard of the anomaly from a Hero, then requested aid."
The origin of that information—
"—is you, isn't it?"
"You misunderstand. I merely accepted the Third Prince's commission."
"You should consider whom you are speaking to. Lies never guide one to a good end."
Hillen fell silent. Rufus shrugged.
"Kidding. I don't actually care."
Clink.
He set the teacup down.
"If you merely accepted a commission, then the matter already ends with the dullahan head you brought."
Rufus's gaze sharpened.
"And that means you have no further reason to remain with Martin."
"That is not certain."
"Not certain?"
"If His Highness the Third Prince issues another commission, I may accept it."
"Whatever Martin promises, I can promise more. Come to me."
"I'm afraid I cannot."
"Why not?"
"Heroes—if not to the same extent as mercenaries—place great importance on credibility. And in my case, I am an Argane of the Star and Guild."
"So you've already exchanged terms with Martin."
Rufus clicked his tongue.
"Then if that contract were to be broken, you would no longer be tied to him. Correct?"
"If the contract ceases to exist, then yes—there would be no reason I could not accept another commission."
"I'll remember that answer clearly."
Rufus rose from his seat.
"Ah—one more thing."
He turned his head slightly.
"If you choose Martin… I believe that would be a truly foolish choice."
His eyes curved faintly.
"Heroes do not interfere in imperial succession."
"I sincerely hope so. I enjoyed our conversation today."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Come to think of it—there was one more of you. pale, was it? It was a pleasure to meet you as well."
"Yes."
"Then we shall meet again."
Tap—
Rufus left. The knights followed, and the door closed behind them.
"…Well done."
"What absurd nonsense are you spouting?"
"Just now, I honestly thought you'd speak to him informally."
"Do you think I'm some idiot who charges blindly without knowing up from down?"
"Were you not like that with Prince Kain Acan?"
"Kain and that one are different."
"So you do understand?"
"I understand all too well. Better than anyone."
Berze's lips twisted faintly.
He could never forget.
He couldn't not know.
Rufus Jespine was the very cause of Berze's downfall in the previous timeline—
the one who caused his meteoric rise to crumble into ruin.
Berze had kidnapped him, so he had no one to blame but himself,
but the memory was unpleasant enough to make his jaw tighten.
In the past, Rufus had murdered every other royal who sought the throne and rose as Crown Prince.
But now, in this life, he was merely one of the many imperial royals—
the First Prince.
Rufus Jespine.
"How does pale know His Highness the First Prince?"
"Do I need to explain everything to you?"
"I think that would be wonderful."
"Too bothersome. More importantly—I didn't expect him to come in person."
"Same here. I thought he'd send someone. Not that he would—by any chance…"
At that moment—
Knock, knock.
A servant tapped lightly at the door.
"A guest has arrived."
"A guest?"
"Yes—His Highness, Prince Floyan Jespine."
"...!"
"...!"
Berze and Hillen exchanged looks.
"…Don't tell me they're coming one after another?"
"That possibility cannot be entirely dismissed."
"You handle this one."
Floyan Jespine—
the prince considered most likely to become Crown Prince alongside Rufus Jespine .
It was going to be a very long night.
READ MORE CHAPTERS HERE : pokemon-translation-2.myshopify.com