Chapter 29 - Beginning Ordinarily and Finally Becoming Extraordinary (2)

When the probationary members went tumbling to the ground one after another, even Arwen Kirgayen could not help but be amazed.

How could he have grown so much in the time since they had parted?

The prince's skill had finally forced even a full-fledged knight of the Iron Lion Knights to step forward.

A grim air hung over the clearing.

It seemed as though sword energy would lash in every direction at any moment, and the ring of clashing blades would soon fill her ears.

But absurdly enough, the metallic sound she had been waiting for never came.

Instead, she heard something stupid.

"My sword was the seventeenth made by the master smith..."

"Mine is the master smith's hundredth work."

The prince and Dunham, who had seemed ready to cross swords with solemn resolve, suddenly began boasting about their swords.

"I have never heard any rumor that the master smith made a hundredth sword."

"Of course not.

It was only finished a few days ago."

"I heard the one made about a year ago was in the seventies."

The sight of them squabbling over swords was so childish it was hard to watch.

"I hear he melted down quite a lot of swords before making this one."

"Even so..."

"To my eyes, sir knight, your sword looks inferior even to the countless swords the master smith melted down."

Though I never actually saw the melted swords, the prince's face was full of triumph.

And Dunham looked indignant at that, too.

It was ridiculous.

What these grown men were doing was no different from little boys with runny noses bragging that their toy was better.

"If you really can't believe it, send someone to the Ellen family and ask."

"Is that true?

Is that truly the master smith's final work?"

Just how long was she supposed to watch this absurd display?

Arwen let out a sigh, and at last, the childish bragging came to an end.

"Who knows?

If you defeat me, this sword may become yours."

At the prince's provocation, Dunham's bearing changed abruptly.

WHOOSH!

A keen edge spread in all directions.

Considering he had stepped forward lazily, treating his opponent as someone beneath his level only moments ago, the strength he revealed was considerable.

His expression, too, was more serious than ever before.

"Though the path you walk is wrong, I can recognize the ceaseless effort that has gone into each step."

It seemed that while the prince was said to have learned Mana Heart alone, he had defeated several who possessed circuits, so Dunham found that effort admirable, at least.

"I intend to show Your Highness what little respect I can by devoting my full effort to this spar."

A strange light shimmered around Dunham's sword.

It was proof that no small amount of mana had been poured into it.

"A little respect, is it?"

The prince laughed.

"How paltry."

It was a peculiar smile, one that seemed both mocking and pleased.

"But this was never truly my place to begin with.

That much should be just right."

At first glance, it sounded as though he were rebuking the upright pride of the Iron Lions.

Heard another way, it seemed like he was laughing bitterly at his own position.

And yet there was neither anger nor self-mockery on the prince's face as he said it.

"The respect shown to me need only come from my people."

The prince looked back.

Arwen flinched in surprise and looked at the prince.

But the prince's gaze was not directed at her.

"Adelia."

"Yes, Your Highness."

The woman who appeared to be the prince's maid answered.

"Watch every last bit of this."

"I shall do so."

The prince faced forward again.

"This is the path you will have to walk from now on."

TAP!

The prince kicked off the ground.

* * *

"What number are we?"

At Count Vale Ballorhard's words, York Walloden answered as though it were nothing important.

"Fourth."

Vale frowned.

"While the First Prince was under probation, His Highness the Third Prince and His Highness the Fifth Prince visited, and just recently, the Second Prince visited as well.

His Highness the Fourth Prince has not come yet.

He probably will not come in the future, either."

"That person has no interest in the throne."

York Walloden leisurely raised his teacup to his lips.

"Then..."

"The Iron Lions have not yet chosen."

York Walloden opened his mouth before Vale had even finished speaking.

"How dare you speak of choosing?"

"It is absurd to hear that from you."

At Vale's sharp tone, York Walloden rebuked him instead.

"Wasn't this situation caused in the first place because you held yourself back?

If the Commander of the 3rd Legion had supported him from behind, neither the nobles nor His Majesty would feel the way they do now."

"I am a soldier.

What I must do is guard the border, not engage in politics."

"Then go and guard the border.

Just as you have always done.

Do not pathetically imitate political nobles."

At those words, Vale closed his mouth.

It was because he himself knew that he bore a large share of the blame for the prince ending up utterly isolated.

But he had his excuses, too.

His nephew had been far too stupid to become king.

If that had been all, Vale would not have cast him aside so coldly, even if his nephew were to become a foolish ruler.

But his nephew had not merely been incompetent.

He had been violent, greedy, and terribly impulsive.

His nephew was more than capable of becoming a tyrant.

Of course, he had also tried to correct his nephew's rotten character.

But his efforts had borne no fruit whatsoever, and instead, he had only earned his nephew's resentment.

He had dragged his nephew out of bed while the boy was dazed on some elixir made through wicked secret arts, and had scolded him harshly.

Then, drunk on drugs, the boy had even grabbed a sword and charged at him, saying he would stab his own maternal uncle.

That was when Vale realized it.

His nephew could not be saved.

Disappointed and frustrated, he returned to the north.

Not long after, poisoned wine arrived, presented as a gift.

It even came with a shameless letter enclosed.

Vale drank every last drop of the poisoned wine.

He burned away the cheap poison of unknown origin with mana.

Together with the poison, he burned away even his affection for his own blood.

It was his love for his sister that made him bury the incident, and it was also pity for his sister that made him meet again the nephew he had sworn never to see.

["Keeping a child confined for half a year at the very time he should be laying his foundation is essentially the same as revealing that he is no longer regarded as a legitimate successor."]

His sister had said that and threatened to die.

She said that if he refused this time as well, she would take her own life.

His sister was a woman more than capable of doing exactly that.

Having no other choice, he took charge of his nephew.

He had no expectation that his nephew would change, nor even any affection of blood left to cheer him on.

He had merely intended to make him lose a suitable amount of weight and return to the north.

And yet the scoundrel he had believed would never change had changed.

He endured harsh training and grew day by day.

Whether that was because he had lost his memories or because he had survived death, Vale could not know.

The important thing was only that his nephew had finally changed.

When he burned the poison that had seeped into his body, he thought he had burned away all affection for his blood as well.

But it seemed an ember had remained.

When he came to his senses, he found that he had accepted his sister's request, saying they must begin again even now, and that the First Prince must regain the rights that had originally been his.

That was why he had deliberately come to Iron Lion Castle.

"You said it yourself.

His Highness the First Prince is someone who must never become king."

Vale was pulled from his thoughts by the cold voice digging into his ears.

"I am asking why someone like you is now acting like His Highness the First Prince's guardian!"

BANG!

York Walloden slammed the table.

"Did you suddenly develop a lust for power in your old age?

If this was how you were going to act, you should not have done that from the beginning!

Have you even thought about how much chaos your choice will bring to the kingdom?"

Vale had nothing to say.

York Walloden's words were true.

Now that even His Majesty the King had stepped forward and redrawn the structure of succession to the throne, if the Commander of the 3rd Legion inserted himself into it, the confusion would likely be considerable.

Nevertheless, Vale already knew what answer he had to give.

"It was a mistaken judgment."

He looked straight at York Walloden.

A close friend, and a Quad Chain knight who, like himself, was one of the Five Silver Lions.

"And I intend to correct it from now on."

And the person his nephew needed most.

"Give him a chance."

Vale said.

"At the very least, let him stand at the same starting line as the other princes."

His upright head lowered.

The proud warrior's back bent, a back that had never bowed to anyone except the king.

"I ask this of you."

York Walloden opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"I do not know.

Whether you have changed, or whether His Highness the First Prince has changed."

When York Walloden opened his mouth again after a long while, his tone had softened considerably.

"I will think about it for now."

At that moment, the door burst open.

"Your Excellency Walloden!"

Before an answer could come, an Iron Lion knight threw open the door and stuck his head inside.

"What is this commotion!"

York Walloden frowned and scolded the knight.

But the knight seemed more desperate to deliver his message than afraid of his commander's rebuke.

"You must come out for a moment!"

"With an honored guest visiting, what on earth..."

"It is because of that very guest!"

The first to react to the knight's words was Vale.

Vale shot to his feet.

Vale, having risen from his seat, said to the knight.

"Lead the way.

We will hear the circumstances as we go."

A step late, York Walloden rose as well.

* * *

At the knight's words that the First Prince and Dunham Fahrenheit had begun a spar with real swords, York Walloden snapped in anger.

"What in the world!

Those things called knights never think about what comes after!"

At York Walloden's words, the knight flinched.

"What do they think they will gain!"

Even if he won, his honor would not rise, and if the prince suffered a serious wound, the one placed in an awkward position would be York Walloden himself, the person responsible for the fortress.

Naturally, York Walloden's voice had no choice but to rise.

"Do not worry.

If it is Dunham, he is quite skilled among the regular knights.

His temperament has some frivolous aspects, but he knows his limits, so nothing serious will happen.

No, but why are you walking so slowly!"

York Walloden looked back at his close friend and spouted words that contradicted themselves.

"I do not think I am the one you should be worrying about right now."

Watching him, Vale Ballorhard spoke.

"What?"

"The one you should be worrying about is not me, but you."

York Walloden frowned.

Now that Vale had taken back into his arms the nephew he had cast away, it seemed his judgment had grown clouded.

York clicked his tongue.

"I crossed swords with the prince not long ago."

Looking at York Walloden, Vale Ballorhard spoke.

"In that spar, I used an Aura Blade."

Wondering what nonsense this was now, York Walloden scowled fiercely.

"You should pray that your knight has not been hurt."

"You have truly become strange.

Your complexion has not looked good either, and everything you say is oddly strange."

After saying that, he hurried his steps.

He had to stop the spar before a member with muscles packed all the way into his head caused an accident.

But it seemed they had dawdled too much.

"Waaaaah!"

Cheers dug into their ears.

It was just as York Walloden had nearly reached the clearing he had been aiming for.

"Aaaaargh!"

With a scream, some black mass came flying toward them.

York Walloden's eyes flew wide open.

The mass flying through the air, tongue lolling out and eyes half rolled back, was someone he knew well.

Of course it was.

His eyes were not so dim that he could fail to recognize one of his own members.

The mass flying through the air, beaten bloody, was a regular knight of the Iron Lion Knights.

Why on earth?

Where had the person who was supposed to have entered the spar gone, and why was someone unrelated in that state?

York Walloden could not understand it.

He looked around.

He saw Iron Lion knights, so excited they were cheering without even realizing their commander had arrived.

At their feet, several men lay with their eyes rolled back.

Dunham Fahrenheit was among them as well.

In the exact same condition as the man who had flown through the air.

York Walloden turned his head.

In his eyes, he saw the First Prince.

He saw the prince standing with an iron sword lowered in one hand.

Though the prince was panting all the way up to his shoulders, he stood there unscathed, not a single wound on him.

"I told you, did I not?"

As he stared at that sight, his close friend suddenly spoke to him.

"That I had to use an Aura Blade."

Before York Walloden could fully chew over the meaning of those words, the prince suddenly shouted.

"Next!"

How arrogant that voice was as it roared out.