Chapter 85 - Nobles, Princes, the King, and the Empire (2)

"Boooooze!"

Gawain shouted.

"I said, bring me some booze!"

He shouted while slamming the table, but neither the barmaid wiping the tables nor the owner slouching in a corner counting money paid him any mind.

It was because a drunken Gawain throwing a tantrum was nothing new.

'Damn it. How did I end up like this?'

Gawain lay face down on the table, breathing heavily.

A few years ago, he was not such a wretched man.

With a treasured sword bestowed by the King in his hand and a proud mission in his heart, even though he lived in hiding in an abandoned fortress, he had never once forgotten his righteous spirit.

Those were the days when he waited and waited for the glorious day promised by the grand plan.

However, what awaited him was not radiant glory, but pitch-black despair.

One day, the King visited the abandoned fortress.

The King was not alone. Beside him were two handsome young boys.

He said that since the grand plan might not be achieved in his own generation, he would have his sons, who were virtually the future of the royal family, prepare for the worst.

A chubby face and eyes brimming with curiosity. He resembled the Queen more than the King.

He didn't seem particularly brilliant, but like any child his age, he was a lovable boy.

Unlike his younger brother, who had an extraordinary gleam in his eyes from the start, the First Prince's first impression was exceedingly ordinary.

To think that that ordinary boy would throw the kingdom's century-long grand plan into the gutter.

They had lived by moving between abandoned fortresses every three months. That day happened to be exactly the third month.

Not long after they left the fortress, the sound of stomping feet echoed from all directions. And then, an army of thousands revealed itself.

In the center of it all fluttered the golden lion flag, the symbol of the Royal House of Leonberk.

The King was there, and so was the First Prince. And there was also the hateful ambassador of the empire.

The King spoke.

"You... band of rebels... all of you, fall to your knees..."

The moment they heard the King's words, which sounded as if he were coughing up blood, Gawain and his comrades realized the situation.

That the grand plan had failed. That the empire had discovered their existence. And that the First Prince, smiling brightly and innocently beside the ambassador, was the culprit behind it all.

Gawain and his comrades made up their minds.

To show their respect for the Royal House of Leonberk.

With their mouths, they denounced the King as a foolish ruler and denied him as the monarch of the kingdom.

That was the only way to lessen even a little of the hardship the royal family would face.

They did not resist.

The soldiers standing here were all soldiers of the kingdom as well; massacring each other would only damage the kingdom's foundation.

The wicked dog of the empire suggested that since they had surrendered quietly without resisting, how about showing leniency by simply severing their Circuits.

Gawain and his comrades rather hoped that the King would not accept it.

But the King stubbornly accepted the proposal, wanting to at least keep them alive.

And so, Gawain and the three hundred and twenty-three knights tore apart their Circuits strand by strand with their own hands.

Terrible pain, but the true pain began that day.

They lost the Circuits they had devoted their lives to refining, and became cripples overnight.

The fragmented shards of their Circuits turned into sharp daggers that tore up their insides.

Amidst the torturous pain of being sliced up, they couldn't get to sleep without drinking alcohol every single day.

While they lived like cripples, constantly drunk like that, news about the kingdom reached them.

Word of discord between the King and the First Prince spread, and rumors circulated in the world that the First Prince had committed all sorts of atrocities and was on the verge of being confined.

Sometime later, they heard that the First Prince had left for the North with his uncle.

And soon, tales of the war that had struck the North began to spread through the streets.

They said the Silver Lion of Ballorhard had fallen in battle, and Winter Castle, the shield of the kingdom, had collapsed. The North had been completely laid to waste, and the First Prince had rallied the survivors to defeat a bastard called the King of Orcs.

It was also around that time that people began calling the First Prince, once known as an irredeemable Scoundrel, by a different name.

The savior of the North—how completely absurd.

Gawain snorted.

However, he wasn't as shaken as he thought he would be.

He thought it was because he lacked the strength to even feel anger.

Funnily enough, Gawain felt anger when the royal support funds given every month stopped coming.

Gawain was no fool. He wasn't ignorant of what that meant.

The royal family had finally decided to completely forget about them.

"Damn it."

Hurling curses at the bar owner who wouldn't come no matter how much he called, he rose from his seat. He stumbled out of the bar and was taking a piss on a wall when he felt a presence behind him.

"I don't know who you are, but you've got the wrong guy. You won't find anything but dust if you try to rob me."

"Are you Gawain Gust?"

Gawain answered without even looking back.

"I don't know anyone by that name."

"His Highness the First Prince sent us."

He froze exactly where he stood.

"His Highness has formally invited you."

At those words, Gawain waved his hand.

"I said you've got the wrong guy."

He adamantly denied his identity, but it didn't work on the men.

"Let's just go."

And so, he was practically dragged toward the North.

The North, which was said to have been laid to waste, was too different from what he had expected.

He thought it would feel like a house of mourning. It was nothing of the sort.

Certainly, the traces left everywhere were the scars of fierce battles and massacres.

Yet the people themselves were full of vitality.

Armed men were everywhere, and the lords' soldiers turned a blind eye to it. The atmosphere felt as if they were preparing for war, leaving Gawain dumbfounded.

The entire kingdom was walking on eggshells around the empire, going so far as to downsize their existing armies, but this place alone felt like a different world.

"The Northerners no longer trust the kingdom or the nobles. They've decided to protect themselves."

The man who had introduced himself as a mid-rank mercenary of the Silver Fox Mercenaries said.

"And the lords just sit back and watch that happen?"

"They're the ones who wouldn't have even been able to succeed their families if not for His Highness. With His Highness having already authorized the arming of the territory's people, who would dare raise an objection?"

Gawain shut his mouth.

Even if he lacked the strength to be angry, the First Prince still remained a sore spot for him.

However, as they passed through the territories of the North, he had to hear stories about the First Prince countless times.

The people of the territory who recognized the Silver Foxes insisted they stay at their homes, despite their impoverished circumstances. And every time, gratitude toward the First Prince for completely wiping out the Orc army that had swept through the North flowed from their mouths, while the Silver Foxes never failed to boast about the battles at Winter Castle and in the Central region as heroic tales.

"I've known for a while now that you harbor ill feelings toward His Highness. But let me give you a piece of advice: don't act rashly. At least not here in the North."

Gawain did not answer the Silver Fox's words.

And finally, they arrived at Winter Castle.

There, he was able to reunite with his comrades for the first time in a long while. Before they could even share the emotions of their reunion, they were dragged somewhere by the Silver Foxes.

The First Prince was there.

The chubby baby fat was nowhere to be seen, and there was no trace left of the boy who had been full of curiosity and mischief.

The First Prince he met again had grown into a mature young man.

Looking at that heavily scarred face, Gawain felt an indescribable emotion.

The very first thing he felt was anger.

"I wasted my time for nothing. I won't seek you out again, so go back."

The next thing he felt was humiliation.

"Why aren't you going? Were you hoping for travel expenses? I'll give you plenty."

"Ah. If by any chance you're expecting an apology from me, give up. I have no intention of apologizing."

His anger amplified at the repeated mockery.

"Just what kind of glory were you expecting to see by coming all this way?"

And he felt confusion.

If he had just died that day, he wouldn't be living so pathetically. Having severed his Circuit with his own hands, what was he so afraid of, and what lingering attachments did he have that kept him clinging to life instead of dying?

And why had he come here? Why had his other comrades come all this way?

The First Prince had promised monetary compensation. Even if it wasn't sincere, he had gone as far as bowing his head.

A lost Circuit, a dead soul. Things that were completely worthless in the face of all that. He lost all his energy.

Up until that point, Gawain had no desire for revenge.

But then the First Prince criticized him.

"If only you had at least hidden a blade to get your revenge! If you had come with the intention of stabbing a knife into the back of the trash who sold out the kingdom's future!"

He felt anger again.

Even if the whole world pointed fingers at them and called them failures, the First Prince, of all people, had no right to do so.

His stomach churned with curses, insults, shame, and fury.

"The sinner who broke your Circuits, who sold out the kingdom's future, is right here. If left alone, this sinner might become the next King. Isn't that truly horrifying?"

When he snapped back to his senses, he was standing there gripping a sword.

A comrade rushed at the First Prince as if possessed, only to be sent rolling across the floor.

"I said I would give you a chance. I never said I would just hand it to you for free."

The moment he saw that blatant mockery, his vision went white.

He charged in and was beaten to a pulp.

"I will wait for you."

The First Prince said, looking at him and his comrades sprawled on the floor.

That he would wait for them until they could infuse mana into their swords once again.

"If you don't want to see a piece of trash who sold out his country become King."

He told them that if they couldn't form Circuits, they should gather mana in their hearts.

And then, he laid out a condition.

"Fight for the kingdom, not for me."

He had no intention of falling for such ridiculous sweet talk.

Until the First Prince mentioned the empire.

The First Prince smiled, saying that if they could regain the strength to take revenge, fight against the empire, and make him pay for his sins all at once, wouldn't that be killing three birds with one stone.

Crazy bastard. A wickedly crazy bastard at that.

He couldn't let a bastard like that control the kingdom. He couldn't let the guy who sold out the nation's future discuss the kingdom's future.

'Fine. Whether it's my heart or my stomach, I'll gather mana wherever I can. And I will get my revenge for that humiliating day.'

Even as he made that vow, Gawain chuckled.

He had thought he was completely burnt out with nothing left to burn, but it seemed there was still something left to ignite after all.

Even if it was an ugly emotion that couldn't even begin to compare to his radiant sense of duty from the past.

And that day, for the first time in a very long while, Gawain was able to fall into a deep sleep without any alcohol.

His comrades continued to gather.

Men who had seemed like extinguished fires would meet the First Prince and return as roaring flames. Returning covered in bruises from being beaten up was just a bonus.

They poured that heat into recovering their bodies.

It was a low-level method they wouldn't have even glanced at in the past, but now was really not the time to be picky.

Funnily enough, the one who taught them was the First Prince.

It was like handing a whetstone to the very people sharpening their knives to stab him in the back.

Gawain simply couldn't understand what the First Prince was thinking. But he also had no desire to care.

Whatever the First Prince was plotting, all that mattered to him was regaining the strength for his revenge.

Against the empire that had forced the King to deny his knights, and the knights to deny their King.

And against the informant who had caused that entire situation.

But that wouldn't be right now.

He had seen and felt it countless times on his way to the North, and he felt it even more clearly after arriving at Winter Castle.

Just what kind of existence the First Prince was to the Northerners.

Their deep-seated resentment and hatred remained, but Gawain and his comrades were not so selfish as to turn a blind eye to the Northerners just to satisfy their personal grudges.

If they were such people, they would never have been chosen as knights for the grand plan in the first place. If they were such people, they wouldn't have surrendered their Circuits so vainly that day.

Perhaps the First Prince had also figured that out and was planning to use it.

Of course, he couldn't be certain.

How could anyone guess what went on inside that arbitrary mind?

But one thing was clear: Gawain and his comrades could not turn their backs on the greater cause.

So they buried their undiluted hatred deep in their hearts and set their personal revenge far aside.

And before any of that, they had to regain their strength. Revenge would come after.

Every time they circulated mana, the shattered fragments of their severed Circuits churned throughout their bodies. Amidst that terrible agony of sharp blades stirring up their insides, they recalled the shame and sorrow of that day.

As they were spending their hectic days like that, the First Prince made an unexpected proposal.

"If any of you wish, you may accompany me on my journey to The Capital."

Gawain and his comrades were conflicted.

Out of three hundred and six knights, thirty volunteered for the trip to The Capital.

Some hoped to see the King again, even from a distance, while others wanted to go to The Capital simply driven by vague emotions.

Gawain, too, was one of those who joined the journey to The Capital with such mixed motives.

Sandwiched among the two hundred Rangers who had left Winter Castle, Gawain and his comrades followed the back of the First Prince, who rode far ahead, escorted by lancers in black armor.

While passing through the North, countless people joined them.

There were heads of Northern families whose names were widely known, and there were also heads of minor families he had never heard of before.

But regardless of whether their prestige and reputation were high or low, the profound respect and courtesy they showed toward the prince were all identical.

And what about the common folk?

Every time they passed through a city, they were met with overwhelming hospitality.

It would be natural to fear a heavily armed army, yet among the Northerners welcoming the First Prince and his entourage, not a single person minded their visit. Utter hospitality and reverence.

The First Prince was like a King ruling over a separate world known as the North.

The situation was no different in the Central region.

Count Branbrut personally came out to the bridge connecting the North and the Central region to welcome the First Prince.

Even if it wasn't quite to the level of the Northerners, the Count's hospitality and respect were still substantial.

Gawain and his comrades let out a sigh.

Just because they witnessed this grand spectacle didn't mean their resentment vanished. But they couldn't help the fact that their swords felt heavy.

As they exchanged glances with heavy hearts, they suddenly felt a gaze.

The First Prince, moving forward far ahead, was looking back at them.

Gawain absolutely could not comprehend the emotions and thoughts hidden within those blue eyes.

That night, when they camped a day's journey away from The Capital, the First Prince came to see them.

"From now on, keep your eyes wide open and watch everything that happens in The Capital."

Unable to grasp the meaning behind those words, Gawain couldn't fall asleep all night. His other comrades seemed to be in the same boat, as their eyes were sunken and dark.

"Move out!"

With a knight's resounding roar, the Northern procession finished breaking camp and began to move forward once again.

And as the afternoon passed, they finally arrived at a plain where the walls of The Capital could be seen.

"Cavalry from the capital defense force is approaching from afar!"

The moment the black-armored cavalryman's words rang out, the martial aura of the Northern army following the First Prince and the lords sharply flared up.

The cavalrymen, who had been approaching while kicking up clouds of dust, were startled by that momentum and hastily halted their horses.

"Your Highness! It is an honor to meet you! I am Falail, leader of the 24th Patrol Cavalry Squad belonging to the Capital Defense Legion!"

One of the cavalrymen shouted out. He yelled that they were not enemies, so they shouldn't be alarmed, and that they would head over there shortly.

"Respects to His Highness the First Prince."

The patrol cavalry leader, who had approached hesitantly, offered an awkward salute.

"We have prepared a resting place for the Northern soldiers not far from The Capital."

It was phrased politely, but the meaning was clear.

It was no different from saying that the Northern army, which had swelled to nearly a thousand troops on its way here, would not be allowed to enter The Capital.

In a way, it was a reasonable recommendation.

The Capital was the heart of the kingdom where the monarch resided; it was only logical not to let any army enter casually, even if they were the kingdom's own forces.

That is, if they were not the kingdom's heroes who had repelled the monster horde marching south.

"Prepare to make camp."

The First Prince ordered.

"Prepare to make camp!"

"Prepare to make camp!"

And the lancers and knights echoed his command.

"Y-Your Highness?"

Seeing the Northern army suddenly unburden themselves and prepare to camp, the cavalry leader called out to the First Prince with a dumbfounded expression.

"I will give you one day."

Instead of an answer, the First Prince said something completely unexpected.

"What do you mean by..."

"Twenty-four thousand Orc heads."

A tone so flat it was practically dry.

"That is the number of enemies that invaded the kingdom, and the number of heads we cut off."

But the momentum contained within those words was neither flat nor dry.

"Falail, leader of the 24th Patrol Cavalry Squad belonging to the Capital Defense Legion."

"Yes! Your Highness!"

The completely overwhelmed cavalry leader responded in a spasming bark.

"I shall ask you."

The First Prince said, looking down at the cavalry leader.

"Are we a victorious army that fought for the kingdom? Or are we a band of rebels that must be kept guarded against?"

"A v-victorious army, sir!"

"Then why do you treat us like rebels instead of a victorious army!"

The First Prince roared in fury.

"I-I'm sorry!"

The cavalry leader practically tumbled off his horse, throwing himself flat onto the ground and bowing his head.

"Rather than sneaking in like rats, I would sooner return to the North. If you truly intend to welcome us."

The First Prince said coldly.

"Whether it's a triumph or a victory celebration. Whatever it may be, you better prepare it properly."

A firm voice that showed not a single inch of compromise.

"One day. I will wait no longer than that."

The cavalry leader hurriedly scrambled back onto his horse.

Looking in the direction where the patrol cavalry had disappeared, the First Prince clicked his tongue and said.

"Somehow, The Capital hasn't changed at all."

Whether that was a lament about someone in particular, or simply pointing out the carefree atmosphere of The Capital itself, there was no way to know.

Only his cold face, looking as if frost had settled over it, indicated just how greatly displeased he was.

Gawain and his comrades watched this entire sequence of events with stiff faces.