Chapter 117 - As Known, Like a Scoundrel (1)

With both hands on the ground and half-prostrated, the Empire's knight was in a posture that made it look as if he were expressing profound reverence.

Siorin's lips twitched as he watched the sight.

"Pfft."

Suppressed laughter leaked out from among the Iron Lions, who had their helmets pressed down tightly. Even if they couldn't understand the words, they seemed to have roughly grasped how the situation was unfolding.

"I am glad to meet you, too."

Even when the First Prince said that, De Gaulle still had a blank expression on his face.

"O polite knight of the Empire."

Then, belatedly, his face crumpled.

De Gaulle sprang to his feet and was about to open his mouth to say something, but the First Prince personally brushed the dirt off his body.

With an intentionally benevolent expression.

PAT, PAT.

Having patted De Gaulle's shoulder, the First Prince got back into the carriage.

Unable to do this or that, De Gaulle, who was only staring at the prince's back, looked around.

The kingdom's knights looked down at such a De Gaulle.

His face turning bright red, De Gaulle returned to where the Empire's knights were.

"Catch it."

He then ordered his subordinates to catch the horse that had run wild.

It was not long before one of the Empire's knights caught the rampaging horse. De Gaulle glared at his horse before drawing his sword like lightning.

NEIGH!

The horse with its neck slashed cried mournfully before collapsing with a thud.

Siorin Kirgayen quietly watched the scene and organized his thoughts.

While a Senior Knight did not hold a low position, it was not a high enough position to casually commit the discourtesy of showing up late to greet a nation's official delegation.

Nevertheless, De Gaulle showed no signs of remorse or worry over his mistake, which meant it could practically be assumed that the one who sent him had intended for this situation.

It was likely their own way of trying to intimidate the delegation, and it was vividly clear how treacherous the journey to and from the imperial capital would be over the next year.

Despite that, Siorin Kirgayen smiled faintly.

Normally, the members of the delegation would have felt insulted by the Empire's knight's rudeness and lost morale, but right now, their spirits were rather soaring.

It was all thanks to the First Prince.

While it was unknown what exactly he had done, anyone who wasn't a fool could tell that the First Prince had done something to De Gaulle's horse.

Thanks to that, a ruffian with not even a speck of respect for another nation had become a polite knight who bowed in reverence.

The blank face he had while looking up at the prince was so incredibly comical.

Siorin forced his twitching lips back down.

'He is very different from what I heard.'

About five days before leaving The Capital, Marquis Bielefeld had held him back and laid out his concerns about the First Prince's fiery temper.

The Marquis had predicted that the prince's temper would be a massive stumbling block on the upcoming trip to the Empire, claiming that the First Prince's greatest flaw was that although he walked the righteous path, his steps were overly aggressive and he tended to corner his opponents, causing even minor issues to escalate into great grudges.

The Marquis's words were half right and half wrong.

The First Prince definitely had a fiery temper as the Marquis had said. Otherwise, there was no way he would have personally stepped forward in response to a childish provocation.

However, he wasn't just entirely fiery.

The First Prince was also insidious.

The process of turning a ruffian into a polite knight flowed as naturally as water, leaving absolutely no room for the Empire's Senior Knight to find fault.

Even if he had stepped forward himself, he would not have been able to crush the Empire's provocation so cleanly and boost the delegation's morale like this.

He had volunteered for the imperial delegation mission partly to see what kind of loafer had lured away his precious daughter, but unexpectedly, a remarkable figure had been caught in his net.

After briefly looking at the carriage, Siorin urged the delegation with an expressionless face.

"We have already spent a day in the wasteland. Form the ranks and hurry up with the preparations to depart."

At the remark subtly reprimanding the Empire's knighthood for being late to the agreed time, the kingdom's forces appeared to hurry more than necessary.

"Ahem!"

At the blatant protest, De Gaulle made an uncomfortable face.

"Your Highness. Our mission ends here. We pray that you complete your long journey without incident and return safely."

The knight of the Southern Legion, who had escorted the delegation to the border, bowed toward the carriage.

When they first met, he had only paid his respects as a mere formality, but perhaps he was quite pleased by how the Empire's knight had been tricked, for he was now offering his farewells with a face full of sincerity.

"Good work. We shall see each other upon my return."

Lifting the carriage window shutters, the First Prince praised the knights and soldiers of the Southern Legion with a simple greeting.

The knights of the Southern Legion lined up on both sides of the carriage drew their swords and shouted resoundingly.

"May there only be glory in His Highness the Prince's future!"

"May glory be with you!"

Following the knight's lead, the soldiers chanted in unison.

"I hope the fangs of the Silver Lion remain as sharp as ever until the day I return."

At the greeting that alluded to the Southern Legion's base, the Silver Lion Citadel, the knights and soldiers of the Southern Army banged on their breastplates and once again wished for martial success in the prince's future.

"I am Senior Knight De Gaulle de Debussy of the 112th Knights, belonging to the Empire's 41st Legion. I have taken over the mission of escorting the First Prince and the delegation. You may now leave the border."

The Empire's knight told them to withdraw with an attitude that showed he found the Southern Army annoying. However, the Southern Army paid him no mind and saw the delegation off until the very end. Raising their swords high, they did not move until the prince and his procession disappeared from sight.

* * *

They had hurried as much as possible, but due to De Gaulle and the Empire's knights dragging their feet, the delegation ultimately ended up camping out in the wasteland for another night. After confirming that Erhim Kilinger and the Iron Lions were skillfully directing the camp preparations, Siorin Kirgayen sought out Arwen.

"I am on official duty."

Even at her cold first words, Siorin asked with an unchanging expression.

"I am here because of official duty."

"Please speak."

"What kind of person is His Highness?"

"Please make your question clearer."

"I meant exactly what I said. After seeing a new side of His Highness today, I feel that I need to understand him a bit more intimately in order to serve him going forward."

Agreeing with that reasoning, Arwen nodded and put on a contemplative face.

Then, she slowly began to speak.

He had only asked what kind of temperament he possessed, but she enthusiastically rattled off her stories as if she were going to recount every single one of the prince's past deeds.

And she did so with a flushed face he didn't normally see on her. So completely excited that she didn't even realize her own father was giving her a sidelong glare.

While his daughter continued her story, Siorin flared up with emotion several times but firmly pushed it down and held it in.

*'I am currently on official duty. This is no time to bring up personal feelings.' * Repeating this to himself, he struggled to suppress his boiling insides.

He continued to listen to his daughter's story.

Then, at a certain point, he forgot his anger and ended up engrossed in the tale.

The journey of a nuisance of a prince, shunned by all, growing up in the harsh northern lands to finally stand tall as the ruler of the North was a story that could not be heard without tears, and the war against an unheard-of monster called a Warlord had a certain aspect to it that made the listener's heart burn with passion.

If the person telling the story had not been his inflexible daughter who knew not how to lie, he would have instantly dismissed it as utter nonsense.

That was just how astonishing the prince's path, flowing from his daughter's lips, truly was.

It was like,

"Is he a hero of turbulent times?"

Like a heroic tale.

"If someone were to ask me who the hero is, I would say without hesitation that it is His Highness the Prince."

Arwen expressed her agreement with her father's words.

Siorin fell deep into thought.

He recalled an anecdote from the stories his daughter had told him about the battle of wills between the First Prince and the Warlord.

When the Warlord threw the Orcs' legion flag and broke the flag of Ballorhard fluttering atop the spire, the First Prince grabbed that flag and acted as if he had obtained the legion flag as a spoil of war before the fight even started, thereby boosting the morale of the soldiers.

The act of twisting the opponent's intentions to render their provocation meaningless, and further boosting the morale of his allies, was exactly the same as what the prince had done to the Empire's Senior Knight earlier today.

Siorin judged that the First Prince was adept at psychological warfare with his opponents and had a knack for turning the tide of the atmosphere.

Without realizing it, he broke into a smile.

To think that the burden he thought he would have to protect and look after throughout the entire itinerary wasn't actually a burden at all.

Having drastically revised his future plans in his head, Siorin spoke as if he had suddenly remembered something.

"Anyway, the feelings you have toward His Highness are not ordinary."

"I am telling you just in case, but please do not entertain any inappropriate imaginations. His Highness and I are absolutely not in that kind of relationship."

Arwen put on a serious face, telling him not to hastily dismiss a sacred relationship between a liege and vassal as a mere affair between a man and a woman.

As she said, Siorin was not unaware of the fact that his daughter's feelings toward the prince were closer to the admiration one had for an outstanding knight.

He definitely knew, and he didn't doubt it.

But oddly enough, he felt disappointed. It truly felt as though something precious had been stolen from him.

To think he had to see his daughter's face so excited while talking about another man.

He flared up with emotion once again, and upon seeing that face, Arwen recoiled in disgust and took a step back.

"Ahem."

Belatedly recovering his expression, Siorin spoke with an intentionally serious face.

"I shall have to hope that His Highness's will does not break until the very end."

"He is not someone whose will would break over something like this."

His naive daughter quickly lowered her guard.

"I guarantee you, whatever you are expecting, you will see far beyond that."

"I look forward to it."

Even as he said so, Siorin did not think much of Arwen's words.

He merely thought of it as an expression of pride toward the one she served.

But that wasn't it.

His daughter's words about seeing far beyond whatever he expected were not an exaggeration born of pride, but the truth itself.

Siorin only came to realize this fact quite a while after being invited to the Legion Commander's welcome banquet at the Empire's border fortress they arrived at the next day.

"Bwahaha. I cannot understand how the kingdom's nobles can call such a magnanimous prince merely rough and violent! Had you been born in the Empire, you would possess the spirit to lead at least one legion!"

Even while watching the Legion Commander disparage the successor to another nation's throne—who would inherit a country in the future—by comparing him to the general of a mere legion, the prince remained unfazed.

By that point, Siorin had also come to completely trust the prince's patience and judgment.

He shouldn't have done that.

"Since the old days, the knights of the Empire and the kingdom have honed themselves by crossing swords. It is merely a pity that nowadays, there are no opportunities to cross swords, leaving the swords of the Empire's knights rusted and their sharp edges dulled."

If he hadn't trusted him, he would have immediately shut it down when the Legion Commander brought up such nonsense while pretending to be drunk.

"So I was wondering, if His Highness the Prince permits it, how about we use this opportunity today to build friendship through the sword and become whetstones to hone each other like in the past? What does Your Highness think?"

However, the image from the previous day had remained too deeply ingrained in his mind, and so, without even realizing it, he had ended up placing expectations on the prince.

"That is a good idea."

As a result, by the time he snapped back to his senses, the Legion Commander's insane proposal had already been finalized.

"To ensure that feelings are not hurt, everyone must approach the spars with a light heart and not dwell on victory or defeat."

He desperately intervened even then, mediating earnestly to prevent the spars from overheating.

Perhaps his efforts paid off, as the spars between the knights of the Empire's 112th Knights and a few Iron Lions, which started first, ended at a reasonable line without any clear victors.

"Who is the most outstanding knight in the fortress?"

However, making all of his hard work completely meaningless, the First Prince worsened the situation once again.

"I have several excellent knights with me, but it doesn't seem like there is anyone among you capable of defeating them."

The atmosphere of the banquet hall, which had been heated up by alcohol, froze over rapidly.

Siorin didn't even have a moment to jump in.

The situation unfolded rapidly, and before he knew it, a knight of the Empire and a knight of the kingdom were standing face-to-face in the middle of the banquet hall.

The Empire's knight didn't even register in his eyes. Siorin only stared at the kingdom's knight.

His beloved daughter, the apple of his eye, was standing right there.

Siorin stuck closely to the prince and whispered.

Saying that if he just admitted it was a slip of the tongue made while drunk and moved on, there wouldn't be any major problems.

But the First Prince did not even pretend to listen to that plea.

"Do not worry. This matter will not hinder the delegation's mission."

He merely babbled on nonchalantly.

Both as the leader of the delegation and as Arwen's father, he could not overlook the prince's behavior this time.

"Goodness. You truly have a hard time trusting people."

Seeing that sharp glare, the prince slyly pulled out a small token from his inner pocket and showed it to him.

"Between a Marquis and a mere Legion Commander, who do you think holds more sway?"

It was an identity token symbolizing a Marquis of the Bourgogne Empire.