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A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?! Chapter 241

Chapter 241

Aint​⁠ and the Black‍​ Turtle men returned​⁠ safely to the⁠⁠ refuge.

With‌​‌ them also came​⁠‌ the First Prince,‍‌⁠ who was still⁠‍ not in stable‌‍​ condition, neither physically⁠​ nor mentally. He‍​ was unconscious and‍⁠​ was immediately placed⁠​‌ in a special⁠ room.

Aint‌‌ and one of⁠‍ the Black Turtle‌​‍ men entered to​ report to Fernan.​​

“Senior,‌ we’re back.”

“Come​⁠​ in.”

Fernan‍ was going over⁠ a pile of‌⁠ documents on the​⁠⁠ table.

“And‌‍​ the First Prince?”​

“We‌⁠‌ rescued him.”

“Good.⁠⁠‍ Anything unusual?”

“In​‌ fact, we have‍​‌ much to report‍ about that.”

Fernan’s‌ expression hardened upon​‍ hearing the report.​

“…You’re⁠‌‍ saying another demon‌‍ contractor appeared?”

“Yes,⁠ young master.”

A contractor. Not just⁠‌‌ a pawn manipulated‌‍ by demons, but⁠‌‌ someone who forged‌ a contract with⁠‌⁠ them on equal​‍‌ terms.

Gardner‍⁠​ Alfenparsen, the first‍‍‍ Royal Knight, had‍‍‌ already said that‌​ only the Colomo‌ bloodline could seal⁠‍​ such contracts.

That’s‌⁠ why they were‌‌ considered extremely dangerous‌‍ enemies, and it⁠ was believed they’d​ be few.

But‍‌ to encounter a second contractor so⁠‌‌ soon—this wasn’t something‍ that could be⁠⁠​ overlooked.

“What​‌‌ was he like?”⁠⁠

“In‌⁠‌ terms of power…”‌

After​​ finishing his report,‍‌ the Black Turtle⁠ man withdrew. Fernan​‌​ was left deep⁠ in thought.

An‌ adversary of that‍ level… What could​‍⁠ he be compared‍​ to? A Royal‌​ Knight?

“And‌ what do you‌‍‌ think, Aint?”

There‍⁠ was no need⁠⁠ to speculate alone‌ when he had​ the fighter who​​ faced him directly.‍

“He⁠​ was strong. The‍‌ strongest I’ve fought⁠‌ alone.”

“…That⁠ much?”

“Yes.⁠ In fact, if‍​‌ it weren’t for⁠ the help you⁠‍ gave me, I would’ve definitely lost.”​‍

Fernan⁠ felt satisfied with‍⁠ that response.

Investment⁠‍ was always more‌​ satisfying when it‍⁠‍ yielded returns. And⁠ Aint was a product worth investing​⁠‍ in.

‘The⁠‌‍ strongest he’s faced‍⁠​ so far…’

Since‍ he said “alone,”​​‌ the demons were‍‍ excluded from comparison.‌​ Fernan reviewed in⁠ his mind the⁠‍‍ enemies Aint had​‌ faced solo before.‌​

“What‍⁠⁠ do you think​​ would happen if⁠‍⁠ Luina fought him?”⁠‍⁠

At​‌ that question, Luina⁠ flinched slightly.

“I’m⁠​​ not sure. He‍‍⁠ said Armian’s light‍⁠‌ worked weaker against⁠‍​ him than against‍ other corrupt and‌‍ demons, but it‍​ wasn’t entirely ineffective.”‍​⁠

Also,‌‍‌ Luina didn’t have‌ Armian’s power. That‍‍⁠ difference would be‌ crucial.

“But‍ I can’t imagine​ him defeating you,‍ senior.”

That‌​ was unexpected. Fernan‌ had thought there‌​ would only be‌‌‍ guards from the⁠‌ Second Prince—but to​ find such a monster hidden away.‌‍

And‍​ now that he⁠​ was dead, how​ would Pirandello react?⁠‌‍

Whether⁠⁠ or not he⁠​ was truly of‌ Colomo’s lineage, a contractor was a being of another‌ category, vastly different‌‍‌ from the corrupt⁠​ that Garrett Schreiner​⁠‍ was eliminating with‌ the Red Wolves‍‌ at the Second‍‌​ Prince’s request.

That⁠​‌ man was dead,‌​‍ and the First‌ Prince had been⁠ freed.

Given‌⁠ previous experience, it‍​‌ wouldn’t be strange‌​ for Pirandello to‌‌‌ make a drastic‌​​ decision immediately.

And‍‌‌ so it happened.‍

Thanks⁠⁠ to the information​ Wooden was constantly​ sending, Fernan knew​ that Pirandello was‍⁠​ trying to meet‌‌⁠ with the Second‍ Prince.

And‍⁠‍ with Garrett at​‌ his side, the‌ outcome was obvious⁠ a disaster.

“Wooden.”‍‌

Fernan‍‌ decided to act​​‌ according to the‌‌‌ changed situation.

“Take‍⁠ them all down.‍‌ Leave not a single one.”

— Kyuung.

“And⁠​⁠ the shield?”

“It’ll‌‍ be ready soon.”‍⁠

— Kyu!

Wooden‌⁠ left surveillance and‌⁠ headed toward the‌​‌ six mansions.

Fernan‌‌ stood up.

“Hyde,‌ how’s the First​​‍ Prince?”

“I​⁠‌ just finished a preliminary check, but‌​‌ after years of⁠‍‌ being under drugs⁠⁠‌ and corrupt magic,​‍‌ his condition is⁠‍‌ not good.”

The‌‍​ drugs, corruption, and‍⁠ malnutrition had wreaked‌⁠ havoc on his‍⁠⁠ body.

“For​‍ now, we’re feeding⁠‍⁠ him well and⁠ have a healing⁠​ mage working on⁠ him.”

“And​​​ the corrupt magic?”​⁠

“Same,⁠​ young master.”

“Then‌⁠​ let’s go see‍​​ him. We’ll check​‍‍ his condition, and‍⁠⁠ then I need​ to head to​‍​ the meeting with‍⁠‍ the Mercenary King.”‍‍⁠

Count⁠ Pirandello and the‌‌ Second Prince had‌‌ agreed to meet⁠‍⁠ at a villa‌ near the capital.​​⁠

It‌‌‌ was best to‌‍‌ observe directly to​‌ decide what to​ do.

In​‍ the worst case,‍​ maybe he’d have‍ to flee with⁠ Garrett. It might‌ be a blow‍ to his pride,​‌‍ but if Pirandello‍ proved as dangerous‍‌⁠ as the contractor‌‍ Aint had defeated,⁠ they couldn’t underestimate‍‍ him.

“Let’s‍‌⁠ go.”

“Yes.”​​‍

And‍​ what they found⁠​ upon going to‌​‍ see the First‌⁠ Prince was—

“…Is​​ it really necessary​‌‌ to do it⁠​‌ this way?”

“There’s​​‍ no other way​⁠​ to purge the​‌‌ corrupt magic.”

“If‌ Aria or Verian​‍ saw this, they’d‍⁠​ insist on doing⁠ it themselves.”

“There’s‍ no safer method.⁠‌ It’s been proven​​⁠ many times.”

“How​‍‌ awful.”

“Ggghhhruuuuhhh…!”‍​

The‍‌⁠ First Prince was‌⁠‌ being forcibly submerged⁠‌ in holy water,⁠ with his head‌‍ held beneath the​ sacred liquid.

***‌‌

At‌‌ the royal villa⁠‍‍ near the capital.​​‌

“Your‌‍⁠ Highness Regent, Count‌⁠ Pirandello has arrived.”‍

Gerlan‍‍ Linelt, Second Prince‍⁠ and regent of‍‍ the Kingdom of⁠ Linelt, fiddled with‌‍​ an empty cup.‍​

Though‌ he had already‌ drunk two, his‌​ lips still felt​‍​ dry.

“Let‍​ him in.”

He⁠‍‍ took a deep‌ breath and nodded.‍‍ Moments later, the⁠‌ door opened.

A man with dark‌ blue hair and​ black eyes entered.​⁠ His muscular build⁠‍‌ resembled that of​ a seasoned warrior.⁠

“Your‌ Highness Regent.”

“Count⁠​‌ Pirandello, take a seat.”

“Yes.”⁠

“What‍‌ would you like‌⁠ to drink? Coffee?⁠ Black tea? Green‍⁠‍ tea?”

“Black⁠‌ tea with milk,​‍​ please.”

A cup with milk⁠⁠ already mixed in​ was promptly served.‍​​ Count Pirandello sipped‍‌⁠ it calmly.

“Was​​​ everything well in‍‌ your domain?”

“Not‌​ quite. But thanks⁠ to Your Highness’s​⁠⁠ consideration, at least⁠ I returned.”

There‍⁠‌ were thorns in‍‍‌ those words, but⁠​‍ Gerlan pretended not⁠ to notice. After‍⁠ another sip, the‌‍‍ Count spoke.

“Do‌​ you remember the‍​‍ first time we‍‍ met, Your Highness?”⁠​‌

“I​⁠ do. About six‍‍⁠ years ago, right?”‌

“Yes,⁠‌‌ exactly. It was⁠‍ six years ago,⁠‍​ in summer. An​ unbearably hot summer.”⁠⁠

That‌ day, the sun​⁠​ was blazing. The⁠ royal banquet was⁠ being held at​⁠⁠ the palace, and‌‍‍ that was when‍ the Second Prince‍‍‌ met Patrick Pirandello,⁠​‌ who was not‌‍ yet a count.‍

“I⁠ remember Your Highness‍‌ did not look‍⁠ pleased at the‌‌ time. You had‍⁠‌ many complaints against⁠‌ His Majesty the‍​​ King and your‌⁠‌ brother, the First⁠⁠‌ Prince.”

Why​ should a less⁠‍‍ capable heir get⁠​ the throne just​ because he was‌ the eldest?

The‌​⁠ Second Prince could‌​‍ not accept it,⁠‌‍ but the King​ would not yield‌⁠ to his complaints.​

It‌‌‍ was in that​‌‍ context that he​‍‍ met Patrick Pirandello.​

“Your‌⁠ Highness said you‍‌ wanted to become‌​⁠ king, and I responded that I would follow you.‍ That I would‌‍ make you king​ no matter what.⁠‌⁠ Do you remember‍⁠‍ what you said⁠⁠ to me then?”‍

“I‌​‍ don’t remember.”

“No,​ that’s not true.”‌‌

Count‍ Pirandello shook his‌‍⁠ head.

“You​‌ remember it well.​‌ Come on, answer⁠‍ me.”

“I‍ told you, I don’t know.”

“Then⁠‍​ I’ll say it.‌​ Your words were,‌‌‌ ‘If you make‍‌‍ me king, I’ll‍ do whatever you‌⁠ want.’”

“……”⁠

Gerlan​​ fell silent, lips​ pressed tightly. His‌​‍ eyes locked onto​ Pirandello’s, filled with​‍​ unease.

“But‌​ tell me something.”⁠‍⁠

The⁠​ Count placed the​‌⁠ empty cup on⁠ the table with‌ a sharp clink.‌‍ His aura turned‌⁠ ominous.

“Why‌‌ are you lying?”​‌

“What⁠‍⁠ do you mean?”​⁠​

“You‍​ said the method⁠‍‌ didn’t matter. That‍‌ if I could‍⁠ make you king,⁠​‍ you trusted me⁠ and would be‍​ grateful. That I could do anything‌ to help you‌⁠‍ get the throne.”⁠

“I⁠ never said that.”​​

“Then‌ why?”

Crack—.⁠‌‌ His pale fingers⁠ pierced the thick​​ wooden table.

“Did‌ you change your‌‍ mind?”

His‌‍​ fingers went completely‌​⁠ through the surface.​

“Is‍‍ it because His‍⁠‌ Majesty shows no‌⁠​ signs of recovery,‍ and the First‌​​ Prince is already​⁠ finished? Am I in your way​‍ now?”

As​ much as people‌ change their minds,⁠‍ this was too⁠​​ much.

“Are​ you threatening me?‌‌ I don’t know⁠⁠ what you’re talking⁠ about…”

“Just‌ as Your Highness⁠‍ knows I’m a contractor, I also⁠ know perfectly well⁠‍ what you’ve been⁠​ doing.”

“So​ it’s true. You‌ really are corrupt.”⁠⁠

The‍⁠ corrupt called themselves‌ “demon contractors.” That​​‍ was practically a confession.

“You‌ knew already, didn’t​⁠ you?”

“I‍ didn’t! If I had known you⁠​⁠ were corrupt, I would’ve never worked⁠ with you.”

“Sure,​ believe whatever you⁠​⁠ want. You’re the⁠‌​ one who made‌⁠⁠ your father sick⁠‍‍ and drove your‌ brother insane.”

But‌ it was Your‍​⁠ Highness who chose‍⁠ it.

“You‌‍​ accepted when I told you I could drive the⁠ First Prince mad.‌‌⁠ You also accepted⁠‌​ when I proposed‌⁠ making the King​‍‍ sick.”

“That’s‍⁠⁠ slander. So you’re‌‌‌ saying you did‍‌⁠ all of it‌⁠‍ yourself?”

The​ Second Prince growled⁠‍ in anger, but⁠⁠ Pirandello let out​​ a short laugh.⁠​

“Who⁠ is it?”

“What?”‌‌⁠

“Who’s⁠‍⁠ the one who​ planted those ideas‌‍⁠ in your head?”⁠‍

“Nonsense…”‌‌‌

“I‍‌‍ told you already.​‍ Just as you​ know me, I know you.”

Gerlan⁠‌⁠ Linelt was someone​‍ who never moved‍​⁠ without being sure‍‌‍ there was a chance.

That’s⁠ why he had⁠‌ waited patiently until​ a real opportunity‍⁠ to aim for⁠‌⁠ the throne appeared.⁠‍

And⁠‍ in his current⁠‌‌ state, the Second‌⁠ Prince didn’t have​ enough power to‌ eliminate Pirandello and⁠​‍ his followers.

The​ fact that he‍ was acting anyway‍​​ meant someone had​ convinced him.

Someone​‌‍ had whispered in​​‌ his ear and⁠ pushed him to‍‌⁠ move.

“So​ stop beating around‍​ the bush and‌‌ tell me who‌⁠‍ it was.”

His​​​ voice changed, his⁠‌ tone too.

“I‍‍​ can’t keep putting‌ up with this.”‍​

At⁠ that low and⁠⁠ sharp warning, the​‍‍ Second Prince’s face⁠ turned pale.

“A‍⁠​ corrupt dares to⁠‌‌ threaten me? I won’t yield!”

He⁠ shouted at the⁠ top of his​⁠ lungs.

“You’ve‌​ crossed the line.​​ Way too far.⁠ Galberts may have⁠​ been clumsy, but​ at least he‍‌ was loyal.”

“What‍​ nonsense is that?⁠ You’re the one​‍​ who crossed the⁠​ line. I gave‍‌‌ you too much‍⁠ freedom, and now‌‍‌ you’ve lost all⁠‌​ sense. I’m a prince of the​‌⁠ realm—regent, no less—and⁠⁠ you’re nothing but⁠‍‍ a pest wearing​​ the face of⁠ the real Patrick‍⁠ Pirandello.”

“Oh?‌ So you figured⁠ it out? Impressive.‌‌ And yet you​​ didn’t hesitate to​​⁠ poison your father⁠‍ and drive your​‌ brother mad. I’m‍ not the corrupt‍‌ one. You are.”⁠​​

“Guards!”​‌

The⁠⁠⁠ Prince shouted. The⁠⁠‌ door burst open​ and knights and⁠ soldiers stormed in.⁠‌‌

Pirandello​ crossed his arms,​ watching calmly, as​ if curious to​‍ see how far⁠‍⁠ this would go.‌‍

“A‌​ corrupt has infiltrated⁠ the kingdom! Kill​‍‍ that man!”

“Is‌⁠ it you?”

Even​​⁠ with dozens of‍‌ spears and swords​ pointed at him,​ Pirandello’s eyes locked‍ onto a single​⁠ man.

Among‌‌​ them was one⁠⁠ whose face was‌‌⁠ covered by a helmet and whose⁠​‌ weapon was different—a‌‌ spear.

“Are​​ you the one‍⁠⁠ who planted those​​‌ ideas in the​‌⁠ Prince’s head?”

“Not‍​ exactly. Honestly, this⁠ complicates things a lot. I only‌​⁠ came because someone‌‍‍ asked for help⁠ for a moment,​‌⁠ but I wasn’t​ expecting this kind‌⁠ of mess.”

“Who‌‍⁠ are you? Someone​ like you must‌‌ have a known‌ name.”

“When⁠ you ask someone‌‌‌ else’s name, it’s⁠⁠ only right to⁠‌ give yours first,⁠ disgusting corrupt.”

“That​‌‌ tone, that spear…⁠‍​ I know who​ you are.”

The​ Mercenary King.

“So‌‌ you came after‌​‌ killing Kimaris.”

The​⁠ Mercenary King removed⁠ his helmet.

“That’s‍​‍ right. And I find it curious​ how someone like​⁠ you isn’t more⁠​ well-known.”

“Because‌⁠‍ I’m not interested⁠⁠ in titles or​‍ glory fabricated by​ that filthy empire.”​⁠‌

“Your​‌ Highness Regent.”

“W-What?”⁠

The‍‍​ Second Prince, now⁠ hiding behind Garrett,‍ responded, trembling.

“This‌ will cost more.”​

The‍ numbers didn’t add​ up.

“I​‍⁠ didn’t expect to​​ have to face‍⁠ someone with Royal‍‌ Knight strength who’s​ not a demon.”‌‌

Garrett‍ tightened his grip‌ on his spear.‍‍‍

“Everyone,‍ get out if‍​ you want to​​ live.”

──!‍‍‍

Garrett’s⁠⁠​ spear shot toward‌ Patrick Pirandello’s head.‍​

And⁠‌‌ from the Count’s​​⁠ back, a surge⁠⁠ of black magic​ erupted.

──!⁠⁠

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