Chapter 91 - The Difference Between Alms, Rewards, and Spoils (3)

Marquis Bielefeld shook his head.

The First Prince was an utterly unpredictable figure.

He had wondered if the Prince was trying to use his achievements to satisfy his own self-interest, but after making the greatest contribution to stopping the southward advance of tens of thousands of monsters, all he asked for was a single sword.

It was a relief for Marquis Bielefeld, who had been deeply worried about what grand thing the Prince might boldly demand. The King's concern had been about the political implications behind the reward.

If it were large, it would carry its own meaning; if small, another.

Considering the political landscape that would shift afterward, it was by no means a trivial matter.

But the First Prince had asked for merely a single sword out of his own mouth.

It wouldn't be excessive to grant him the sharpest treasured sword in the kingdom, nor would it be insufficient to give him the shabbiest one, since it was what he himself wanted.

If he had made an unreasonable demand, the situation would have become exhausting, but thanks to this, things seemed likely to be resolved easily.

However, it seemed that was too hasty a judgment.

"I heard you possess a sword left behind by a renowned master smith. One cannot assume that a royal treasured sword would be superior to it. Would that truly be a fitting reward?"

"It is fitting."

Answering without even a hint of hesitation, it was obvious at a glance that he already had his eyes on a specific item.

"Speak without dragging it out."

The First Prince did not decline.

"The sword that the founder of the kingdom used to slay the Mad Dragon."

He merely demanded it as if it were natural. Without even knowing what his words meant.

"That is the exact sword I want."

The atmosphere in the banquet hall froze in an instant.

The King stared at the First Prince with a face as stiff as stone.

"Are you speaking of the Dragon Slayer?"

His tone was as rigid as his face.

"I am talking about the sword that was stabbed into my stomach."

But the First Prince's reply was made with a shamelessly innocent face, as if asking why everyone was so surprised over just a single sword.

"Do you know what that means before speaking?"

"I am simply suggesting that an item left rotting in the vault without being used should be given to someone who needs it."

Hearing that answer, Marquis Bielefeld squeezed his eyes shut.

"It seems you do not know. Then again, if you had known, you would never have done such a thing."

The King's heavily lowered voice rang in his ears.

"That sword was inherited by the former king from the king before him, passed down to the next generation, and eventually reached me through my late father."

The Marquis opened his eyes again.

"That sword, which you took from the vault and swung around without permission, is an item you should never have been allowed to touch in the first place."

The first thing that caught his eye was the First Prince's face.

"It is a sword used by the successive monarchs of this nation."

A crack appeared in his shamelessly innocent expression.

"It is an item that in itself symbolizes the throne of this country."

The subtle crack was quickly covered up. However, the Prince's calm expression was different from before. His face looked somewhat unnatural and awkward. After a long while, the Prince asked in a voice as small as a mosquito.

"I would be fine with just receiving the sword."

Asking if he could be given just the sword apart from the throne.

"Ha."

The King let out a hollow laugh in disbelief.

The remark was so absurd that the King did not even get angry. He merely let out hollow laughs several times over.

But that was only for a moment.

The King's expression hardened. It was a face even more rigid than before.

Marquis Bielefeld fully understood the bewilderment the King felt.

It made sense, as the First Prince had asked for the sword symbolizing the throne in front of numerous nobles. He had even established enough merit to back up his demand.

If his demand were refused here, it would be no different from a declaration that the Royal Family would not let the eldest son inherit the throne.

The question of whether he could just be given the sword separately was not something the nobles would even consider in the first place.

No one took such a ridiculous demand seriously. They seemed to consider it merely the rebellious sentiment of a prince who, despite being born the eldest son, had not been recognized as the heir to the throne up until this day.

Marquis Bielefeld had initially thought so as well.

Until he saw the First Prince's wavering eyes. Until he saw the utter bewilderment contained within them.

* * *

Because it was left rotting in the vault with no one seeking it out, I thought the Royal Family did not know the value of my original body. Because they managed it so poorly as to let a scoundrel-like prince waltz in and swing it around as he pleased, I naturally thought its very existence was taken lightly.

But now they were saying it was an item that symbolized the throne.

I had thought it wouldn't be difficult, since it was just receiving an item that they had no need for.

Out of nowhere, I had ended up demanding the throne.

I was in a tight spot.

"I would be fine with just receiving the sword."

In my panic, I ended up spouting sheer nonsense.

The King's face, staring at me with a dumbfounded look, was full of disbelief. He looked as if he had even forgotten his hatred and anger toward me.

I looked around.

The nobles were murmuring.

Through my authority, I could hear the conversations they were having.

They were saying that since he had established unrivaled merit and had even obtained the Magic Tower, and since he was the legitimate eldest son of the Royal Family in the first place, such a demand wasn't unreasonable.

They believed that I truly wanted the throne.

I didn't.

No, actually, I did. But absolutely not like this.

Even if I were to inherit the throne, I had no intention of receiving it by haggling over my merits like this. I intended to make it so the King wouldn't dare refuse and would offer the throne to me on his own.

I had my own plans for that.

The current situation was not what I had intended.

I looked at the King.

It would have been better if he had just refused outright, but unlike his usual self, the King seemed to be agonizing deeply over it.

His face showed that he was troubled by the situation that would storm in afterward.

"Hmm."

After pondering for a long while in the awkward silence, the King raised his head. A gaze as cold as descending frost glared at me.

And a voice just as cold flowed out.

Damn it. It seemed I would have to push back retrieving my original body a bit further.

Because there was no way the King, who was itching to tear me apart, would give me the item that symbolized the throne.

That was what I thought. I had definitely thought so.

"Fine."

My thought was wrong.

"Since you want it, I will give it to you."

The King granted my demand.

"However, I will give it to you, but not right this moment."

A completely unexpected situation.

"Only after you accomplish one task will you grasp what you desire."

Though there was a condition attached, it was a clear acceptance.

"If you fail to achieve it, I will consider the Dragon Slayer to not be destined for you."

I was left utterly dumbfounded.

I couldn't fathom what kind of change of heart he had experienced in just one day to change his attitude like this.

But my panic was only brief.

Right after the King left, I could immediately realize what the King wanted.

This was a sort of battle for justification.

The task that would be given to me would nine times out of ten be something difficult for a mere prince to handle. His calculation was likely to use my failure as justification to officially strip me of my right to inherit the throne.

If I had to put it in words, this was a test.

Even though the one administering the test was hoping for me to fail.

"Ha."

I let out a hollow laugh in sheer disbelief.

The fact that I had been dealt a blow by the King I had looked down upon was incredibly amusing.

I had thought he was just a scarecrow whose only capability was sitting on the throne and keeping his seat.

Still, it seemed a king was a king.

Even if he couldn't overcome turbulent times, it seemed he was at least capable enough to get the better of one not-fully-grown prince.

"This is fun."

But far from getting angry, my motivation surged instead.

I suddenly recalled a wager from the past.

The Quad Chain knight who had looked down on me, calling what I harbored a crude Mana Heart, and proposed a wager.

So, what happened after that again?

I smiled.

I was genuinely enjoying myself.

It seemed I was starting to find this quite entertaining.

After waking up, everyone had looked down on me. Not a single person had acknowledged me, and they all treated me with contempt without exception.

Overturning the expectations of such people and seeing the expressions they made was quite a fun thing to do.

My heart was already starting to pound.

The thing that I didn't know whether to call a wager or a test hadn't even begun yet, but I was already looking forward to the expression the King would make.

And I was greatly looking forward to how I would be standing in front of him, smiling.

"Brother. Congratulations."

While I was standing blankly, Maximilian approached and offered words of congratulation.

"It seems everything will finally return to how it was originally meant to be."

At that heartfelt congratulation, I shook my head.

Saying I would receive his congratulations later.

Because it wouldn't be too late to receive congratulations in front of the dumbfounded King.

* * *

The nobles scrambled over each other to offer me their congratulations.

They fawned over me as if I had already become the King.

Perhaps it was a congratulatory greeting to me for superficially regaining my position as the legitimate eldest son, or perhaps it was flattery directed at me for possessing the treasure known as the Magic Tower.

Whatever it was, it was clear that my status had changed from before.

Of course, there were some among them who had seen through the King's hidden agenda.

The great lords who offered me their congratulations were actually keeping more distance from me than before.

They were probably testing the waters.

If I passed the test, I would be the heir to the throne; if I failed, a failure.

Their inner thoughts, racking their brains over the two extreme possible outcomes, were plain to see.

"Your Highness. Did you truly not know?"

I shook off the tiresomely clinging nobles and returned to the Prince's Palace.

Marquis Bielefeld, who had followed me, asked.

After hearing about the Scoundrel's atrocities from that bastard Montpellier, I spent a fair amount of time investigating my past.

To ensure I wouldn't be tripped up again by past events I was unaware of.

Saying it was what he heard from his father, Vincent excitedly blabbered about my past. In the process, I came to know the pathetic past history of the Scoundrel in full detail.

However, there was no mention in it that my original body was the symbol of the throne.

Guessing the reason wasn't difficult.

They probably didn't tell me because it was too obvious. They likely never imagined that a prince wouldn't even properly know the item that symbolized the throne.

Marquis Bielefeld reprimanded my thoughtlessness and nagged me for a long time.

For some reason, I wasn't pleased with the Marquis, who seemed to have noticeably increased his nagging since the day before. His attitude was as if he were taking it upon himself to be my teacher.

Having Nicolo alone play the role of my teacher was more than enough.

"Go!"

I snapped at his seemingly endless nagging.

"Even if His Majesty assigns you a task, please do not give an immediate answer. Please make a decision only after sufficient deliberation and discussion."

Unfazed, the Marquis only stood up after delivering his final piece of nagging.

And not long after, the Queen came to visit.

The Queen was an incredibly awkward presence for me.

Everyone in the world had ill feelings toward the Scoundrel. No one cherished him.

Because of that, I could interact with them without any hesitation.

It was because I assumed they wouldn't be sad even if they found out the Scoundrel was dead.

But the Queen was different.

She truly cared for her son. If I were still inside the sword and the Scoundrel had died just like that, she would be the only person to shed tears for him.

Because she was like that, I found her uncomfortable to face.

So today, as well, I tried to avoid her. But just like before, it didn't work this time either.

Karl, who had chased away numerous nobles, and the inflexible Royal Knights dared not turn away the Queen.

She asked why I hadn't sought her out since arriving in The Capital. What in the world these scars were.

I had to suffer through it for a long while.

"I'm proud of you. Truly proud."

And at the end of it, I had to endure the embarrassment of a hand stroking my head as if treating a child.

I barely managed to send her back, and as I was catching my breath, someone else came looking for me.

It was the old knight who had sought me out when I first woke up in the Scoundrel's body.

He guided me somewhere.

Contrary to my expectation that we would naturally head to the King's office, the old knight guided me to an entirely unexpected place.

"You must not lay a hand on it, nor do anything else with it."

Deep within the royal palace, in a secret place unknown to anyone.

"Please, only look with your eyes."

A single sword was thrust into the ground over there, out of reach.

My original body, the very one I had so desperately yearned to reclaim,

"Huh?"

No matter how I looked at it, the sword before my eyes was unmistakably my original body.

Yet it was strangely unfamiliar.

I rubbed my eyes. I rubbed them again and again. But the sight before my eyes did not change.