[Translator - Night]

    [Proofreader - Gun]

    Chapter 111: The First Prince and the Madman

    Narea cast me a questioning look before safely returning to the Holy Kingdom of Lium.

    The bait had been thrown.

    Surely, they would take it and come asking.

    Duke of Whitewood dragged the battered Centriol by the nape and handed him over to the military.

    They, too, would safely return to the Holy Order.

    Meanwhile, matters related to mysticism would soon surface on a global scale.

    "You''ve been through a lot, young man."

    "I did a little, yes."

    Duke of Whitewood raised her hand and tousled my hair roughly.

    "As I thought, I have a good eye for people."

    She looked at me with eyes sparkling as if seeing a promising hero.

    It was overwhelming.

    Please don’t.@@@@

    "So now, it’s time for you to receive proper punishment for what you’ve done."

    Clank

    Once again, cuffs were fastened around my wrists.

    Come to think of it, I hadn’t finished serving my sentence yet.

    The capital of the Hysirion Empire.

    I was being taken to Syrion.

    * * *

    The capital of the empire, Syrion, was the most advanced and populous city in the world.

    The city was built in layers, centered around the massive imperial palace.

    The closer you were to the palace, the more extensive the infrastructure became.

    There were rows of noble estates belonging to pro-imperial factions.

    Above all, the number of personnel active within the palace was immense.

    From gardeners, maids, and attendants to knights, squires, and administrators managing affairs—

    The resources they consumed daily fueled Syrion''s economy.

    Thus, Syrion continuously produced a wide variety of goods to match its consumption.

    It was truly the leading city of the new era.

    Inside the imperial palace of Syrion,

    carriages were entering.

    Only two carriages entered,

    but no one dared to dismiss them.

    Whenever these carriages moved forward, the maids stopped their work and bowed their heads.

    This was because the carriages bore two distinct emblems.

    One was the symbol of Duke of Whitewood, one of the empire''s four dukes—a pure white tree.

    The other bore the blue hawk emblem of the empire’s greatest mage tower, the Blue Tower.

    The appearance of the empire''s current hero and its greatest mage caused nothing short of an emergency within the palace.

    Inside one of these carriages,

    I sat across from Duke of Whitewood, my wrists bound in cuffs.

    Would the people outside even realize?

    That the one inside the carriage was a criminal who, by imperial law, could be executed on the spot?

    If it became known that such a criminal was sitting face-to-face with Duke of Whitewood, it would cause an uproar.

    "Young man."

    "Yes, Your Excellency Duke of Whitewood."

    "Are you nervous?"

    I wasn’t nervous at all.

    Both Duke of Whitewood and the Blue Tower Master were personally escorting me to the palace.

    At this point, it was safe to assume I wouldn’t be executed.

    Still, time would be needed to revise some of the existing laws.

    In the meantime, I was just contemplating what I should do.

    "No, I’m brazen enough not to be nervous."

    "Kuhuhu, as expected. If you dare to use me, you must at least have that much nerve."

    I’d given a response that pleased Duke of Whitewood.

    It seemed she had quite taken a liking to me.

    The empire hadn’t had many individuals making heroic strides recently.

    She was keeping an eye on me, someone walking the path she desired.

    ‘Originally, this was supposed to be Lucas''s role.’

    I was essentially filling in for him.

    Rattle!

    At that moment, the carriage came to a stop.

    "Your Excellency, we’ve arrived at the imperial palace. May I open the door?"

    Duke of Whitewood’s aide knocked on the door and asked for her instructions.

    "Yes, go ahead."

    As Duke of Whitewood responded crisply, the aide opened the door.

    He then glanced at me, his expression briefly souring before correcting it.

    The aide, a stickler for propriety, likely disapproved of my lack of decorum toward Duke of Whitewood on our first meeting.

    However, with Duke of Whitewood present, he couldn’t openly express it.

    "Let’s get out."

    “Sit down, Hannon Irey.”

    And then he called me by the alias I had been using.

    The First Prince was the kind of person who, fully aware that I wasn’t actually Hannon Irey, would still call me by that name.

    I quietly sat back down, maintaining the posture I had risen with.

    The prince leaned back against his chair and exhaled briefly.

    “Finally, a break from work. Thanks for giving me an excuse to escape.”

    Unlike Iris, the First Prince worked directly in the imperial palace.

    Determined to ascend the throne, he lived each day buried under a mountain of paperwork.

    In that sense, coming to see me was a kind of escapade for him.

    “I’m glad to have been of help to Your Highness.”

    “Haha.”

    At my brazen reply, the prince chuckled deeply.

    Those piercing eyes were unnervingly intense, but he made no attempt to hide their gaze.

    It was as if he intended to pierce through me entirely.

    “Hannon Irey, every time I hear about you, I find myself overwhelmed with curiosity. I kept wondering, who is this audacious person who dares to act so boldly?”

    In truth, I stood at the very epicenter of the Hysirion Empire’s turmoil, representing Lucas in the process.

    Such actions gradually shook the very foundations of the empire.

    And as someone at the center of imperial power, the First Prince was undoubtedly aware of this.

    “But seeing you in person now...”

    A smile curved his lips.

    “You’re far more interesting than I’d imagined.”

    “Joking isn’t one of my talents, Your Highness.”

    “That audaciousness—yes, that’s it. The fact that you show no fear before me either means you have someone powerful backing you or you’re just insane.”

    The First Prince was a realist.

    For him, the future only held value if a solid foundation was laid in the present.

    This was his philosophy.

    Thus, he worked tirelessly to fortify the present, aligning himself with influential figures.

    However, even he didn’t shy away from investing in the future.

    An example of this was supporting magic research to rejuvenate Nia Cynthia’s youth.

    Building the present while preparing for the future—this was the kind of man he was.

    Hence, people referred to him as “The Prince of Stability.”

    “And I quite like madmen. My specialty lies in building the present. Future reforms are not my forte.”

    The First Prince knew his strengths well.

    Therefore, while he excelled in certain areas, he wasn’t afraid to relinquish tasks he wasn’t skilled at.

    Instead, he entrusted those areas to competent individuals.

    “Madmen, however, are often the ones who reform the future. From where I stand, you’re no different from those types.”

    “It’s an honor to have Your Highness think so highly of me.”

    “Indeed.”

    The First Prince declared firmly:

    “But remember, I only like madmen who are willing to fall under my command.”

    His love was selective.

    The reason the First Prince still held his position as the imperial successor was not just due to his talents.

    It was also because he was as ambitious as the Duke of Robliage.

    The throne was a seat of desire.

    A place to protect the nation and strive to make it the best in the world.

    Therefore, the throne required someone with immense ambition.

    Thus, the First Prince was a man who would do anything to fulfill his desires.

    If someone didn’t belong to him, he would not hesitate to cut them down.

    The emperor was not human.

    The emperor transcended human norms, a being who wielded the world.

    Only then could the nation prosper, and only then could it have the means to benefit its people.

    That was the role of the emperor.

    And so, the First Prince posed his question to me:

    Are you mine, or someone else’s?

    There was no turning back once a choice was made.

    The overwhelming charisma of the First Prince weighed down upon me.

    Even a single word could mean my neck.

    But the First Prince didn’t know.

    After losing the ability to feel love due to the Veil Bandages,

    I had long since abandoned all fear.

    Fear was a defensive mechanism to preserve oneself.

    “Your Highness.”

    For someone like me, who didn’t care for self-preservation, his charisma had no effect.

    If he wanted to frighten me, he’d need to embed murderous intent into his very being, like Sentriole.

    “I believe there’s an issue with your question.”

    The First Prince’s eyebrows twitched.

    He couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to point out a flaw in his question.

    But there I was, smiling brightly, shamelessly in front of him.

    “Shouldn’t Your Highness explain what merit there is for me to take your side?”

    If you want to rein in the dragon, pay the price.

    [Translator - Night]

    [Proofreader - Gun]