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A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?! Chapter 243

Chapter 243

“It’s‍‌‍ already been six⁠‍ years since His‌​​ Majesty fell ill!⁠ In those six‍‌‍ years, the kingdom⁠‌ has weakened! But‌‍ even so! Does‌‍‍ it make any​ sense for a mere mercenary to​ trample on the⁠​​ honor and authority‍⁠⁠ of Linelt?”

Gerlan‌ Linelt shouted with‌​ a torn heart.‍

“He⁠⁠⁠ tried to intimidate‍​ and kidnap me,‌ the regent! And‍ he used that‌‌ as an excuse‌‌ to conspire against‌‍​ the kingdom…!”

“This​​​ is a crisis‌‍‍ for the kingdom,⁠‌ and all of​⁠ Linelt must overcome​ it together!”

“I,‍​⁠ Gerlan Linelt, second‌ prince of the​​‌ Kingdom of Linelt​​⁠ and its regent,‍⁠⁠ swear that the‍⁠​ Mercenary King will‌⁠ without a doubt…!”‍​

“Waaaaaaah!”‍​⁠

“Long‌‌ live the regent,‌ His Highness!”

“Execute‍ the Mercenary King!”⁠‌

With​ the burning cries‍‌ of the crowd,⁠‌‌ Gerlan finished his‌‌ speech and collapsed​ into a plush‍⁠ sofa.

“You’ve‍ worked hard, Your⁠​⁠ Highness.”

A servant brought him​ a glass of⁠⁠‌ iced water.

“It⁠⁠ was an excellent‍ speech. The reaction​ is fervent.”

His⁠‍ assistant applauded.

“I’m‌‌ glad to hear⁠⁠‍ that.”

Even​​‌ if he was‌⁠ exalted as the‍‌‌ Mercenary King, in⁠‌​ the end, he‍ was nothing more⁠‌⁠ than a mercenary.‍

That‍‌ a prince and⁠ regent had been​ attacked by a mere mercenary was​​‍ more than enough‍ reason for the‌⁠⁠ whole kingdom to​⁠‌ erupt in anger.‌⁠

It‌ was a natural⁠‍ reaction, and Gerlan⁠‌​ had taken full⁠‌‍ advantage of it.⁠​

“They‍ don’t suspect that​ this speech implies‌‍‍ a special tax.”‌‍‍

“Some‌‍ may suspect it.”⁠⁠⁠

When​‌⁠ they calmly analyzed‌ the speech, they’d‌ end up understanding.‍ But most would‌​​ only realize it‌⁠‌ after being forced⁠​ to pay.

“By⁠‌‌ the way… why‍‍‌ was I going‍ to impose a new tax…?”

Gerlan‍ tilted his head,⁠ strangely unable to‍⁠ remember, as if‍ a fog covered​‍ his thoughts.

“Wasn’t‌ it to track‌ the Mercenary King‌​ and bring him‌ to Linelt’s tribunal?”⁠‍⁠

“…Yes,​ that’s right.”

The‌‍⁠ Mercenary King was​ a Royal Knight,​ and to capture‌⁠‌ him they needed​‍ someone at least⁠⁠⁠ of his same‌‌ level.

That’s‌⁠⁠ why they needed‌ money to hire‍ another Royal Knight‍​ or an Archmage.‌⁠

“Count‌‌ Pirandello also said⁠‍ he knew someone.”‌⁠‌

“That’s​ right. And we​‍ decided that, when⁠ the special tax‍‍⁠ was collected, we’d​‌ entrust it to​ him.”

A dull headache made‍‌ Gerlan frown.

Then,⁠ a piece of‌⁠ paper sticking out⁠​‌ from under the⁠​⁠ table caught his⁠ attention.

“This?”‌

He⁠ picked it up‌‌‍ instinctively. It wasn’t⁠⁠ a document as‍​‍ he thought, but⁠‌ a letter.

[Have​​ you been well,‍‍‌ little brother?]

It⁠​‌ began like a normal greeting between‌‍ brothers.

[Thanks‌ to your gifts⁠‍ these past years,⁠‍​ I’ve been doing‌‌‍ very well.]

But​​ between those serene​ lines, there was⁠‍ poison. Gerlan’s hand⁠‌ gradually tensed.

And‍ the ending was‍​​ clear.

[Tomorrow⁠ at noon, in⁠‌ the fourth secret‌​ pavilion. If you​ don’t come, it​‌ doesn’t matter. But​ then all your​⁠⁠ misdeeds will be‍ revealed to the⁠ world.

With‌​ that, I end.⁠​

Fondly,​⁠ your brother.]

It‍‍ was an invitation.‍‍⁠ No, a threat‌‌‌ disguised as an⁠⁠‌ invitation.

“My⁠​ brother escaped…?”

The​‌ problem was that‍ he had never⁠‍ received such a report.

“What…‌⁠⁠ what is going⁠⁠‌ on here?”

He‍⁠‍ froze. Wasn’t his‍‍⁠ brother securely confined‍​​ in the special‌‍ mansion he himself‍‍​ had arranged?

No​‌‍ report of trouble​ had arrived.

“It’s⁠​‌ an impostor, Your​ Highness. How could‍⁠⁠ the first prince‌ leave the residence‍‌ where he’s being‍ held?”

His⁠‌ assistant firmly denied‌⁠‌ it.

“But‍‌⁠ this is clearly‌⁠ his handwriting!”

“Handwriting‌​⁠ can be forged,⁠‍‍ Your Highness.”

“Yes,​‍‍ but the content!‍ These are things​​ only my brother‍‍ and I know!”‍

“But​‍⁠ isn’t it strange‌‍‍ that a letter‌‍ from the first⁠⁠ prince just happens‍​ to appear right​⁠ here, don’t you​‍ think?”

“That’s⁠⁠ true, but…”

This​ wouldn’t do.

Gerlan⁠ stood up abruptly.‌⁠‍

“I⁠⁠‍ must verify this‌‌ myself! I must‍⁠ see with my‌ own eyes that⁠‌​ my brother is⁠​ fine!”

“Your‌​ Highness, you should​ send someone first⁠ to check…”

“Prepare‌ everything at once!”‌

“No,‍​ Your Highness.”

“What‌​ did you say?”​​

The‍⁠⁠ assistant grabbed his‍​ shoulder and forced‌ him to sit‌‍ again with an​ irresistible strength.

“You⁠⁠‍ dare disobey me‌‌‍ now?”

“I’m‍ doing it for⁠ your own good,​​​ Your Highness.”

“Nonsense!‍‍​ I must confirm‍ my brother’s status‌‌‌ right now!”

But​ the pressure on​ his shoulder intensified,‌​ causing him pain.⁠‌

“What‌​‌ are you doing?!​ Let go of​‍ me right now!‌ How dare a mere subordinate of‌ mine…!”

Suddenly,⁠ Gerlan’s mind became‌ clouded.

“Subordinate?”‌‍⁠

Since​⁠‍ when did he​⁠ have a subordinate‌‌⁠ with that face?‌‍

“Well…”‌​

The​‌‌ assistant sighed.

“I‌‌‍ knew this would​ be unstable. After​ all, suggestion and⁠‍ hypnosis aren’t his⁠⁠‍ specialty.”

“What…​​‌ what did you‌‍ say?”

At‍ that moment, the‍ door opened.

“Your‍​​ Highness, are you‍‍‍ all right?”

“Count‍‍⁠ Pirandello? How timely!‌ There’s a stranger​ here who…”

“Your⁠⁠​ Highness.”

Their​⁠‍ gazes met. A chill ran through⁠‌‌ Gerlan’s mind, and‌‍⁠ his eyes dimmed.​​⁠

“Your​ Highness saw nothing.​‌‍ That letter never​‍ existed.”

“And‍​ the first prince⁠⁠ never escaped. He’s​⁠ still peacefully enjoying‌ his confinement in‍‌​ the residence.”

“…Do⁠‍ you understand?”

“…Nothing…”​

He‌​⁠ saw nothing. Nothing​ happened.

Gerlan‍‌⁠ murmured dazedly.

***‍⁠‌

Crack.​

The​ letter was torn⁠ to pieces.

[Have⁠‌‍ you been well,‌​‌ little brother?]

The⁠ content was identical‍ to the previous⁠ ones, except for⁠ the meeting location.⁠

“I⁠‌‍ told them to​​⁠ handle it properly.”​

Count⁠ Pirandello muttered. His‍‌‍ new assistant, Alphon,‍‍ bowed his head.‍

“My‌​⁠ apologies. We reviewed‍ all the correspondence​⁠ addressed to the‌​ second prince, but⁠ somehow he always‍‍ ends up reading​‍​ it.”

It⁠ was already the‍⁠ fifth time that⁠‍ letter had reached‌‌​ Gerlan.

The⁠ first two times⁠⁠‌ they had managed​‍ to intercept it.⁠⁠​ After that, it‍ would magically appear⁠​‍ right in the⁠‌⁠ prince’s path.

They‍ never found any⁠ trace of who​ was leaving it,⁠‍⁠ even after replacing​‌‍ all the servants‍ and installing detection​‍⁠ devices.

And​‌‍ each time, Gerlan⁠​ insisted on going‍ to check the‌‌​ mansion where the⁠ first prince was​ confined, forcing them‍‌‍ to call Count‌ Pirandello.

“The‌‌ whereabouts of the‍⁠‌ first prince?”

“We’re⁠​ sorry.”

Answered‌‌ one of the‌‌ men in charge‍ of the search.⁠‍‍

“It’s‌⁠ been two weeks.​‍‌ You still haven’t‌‍‍ found either the⁠‌‌ prince or my‍ missing treasures?”

Count⁠ Pirandello smiled bitterly.‌

When‌‌⁠ he discovered that‍ all six mansions⁠‍ and their secret‍ storerooms had been‌‌‌ looted, his rage‌ was mixed with​ astonishment.

How⁠‌‌ did they find⁠ out? How did‌ they steal it?‍‍ How did they⁠⁠ go undetected?

There⁠‌⁠ was no answer.‍

“It’s⁠‍ not the work⁠ of an individual,‌ but of an⁠‌ organization.”

One​​‌ with enormous scale,⁠ a vast information‍ network, and spies.⁠‌

“There​ can’t be many⁠ like that.”

Three‍⁠‌ names appeared in‌ his mind Schwaben,⁠ Pellenberg, and Alprosen.⁠⁠

“Has‍‌‍ the Mercenary King‌‌​ been located?”

“Not‌‌⁠ yet.”

“Find‍ him. He’s surely⁠​​ connected to them.​ If we catch⁠‌ him, we’ll find‍‍ the thread that​ leads us.”

“Yes,​ sir.”

Although‍ deep down, he⁠ had doubts.

Whoever‌‍ was moving all​ this like pieces​ in the palm⁠‌‌ of their hand⁠​ wouldn’t leave such​‌ an obvious trail.⁠⁠

“In‍ any case, we‍​ can’t stop those⁠ letters. They’ll keep​​ coming.”

The​ matter returned to‍ the starting point.​

“The⁠ second prince’s mind⁠ is becoming resistant.‍ We won’t be​ able to keep​‌ this up much‌​​ longer. It’s better⁠⁠‌ to give them​⁠‌ what they want.”⁠⁠

“Are​ you serious?”

“If‍​‍ they so desire⁠‌‍ a meeting, it​‍ would be rude‌​‌ not to go.”⁠‌

After‌ all, they knew‍⁠‍ they were corrupt.⁠

Even​‍ if they hadn’t⁠​‌ known before, they‌ would have discovered‌​ it after rescuing​‍ the first prince.⁠

Even‌‌⁠ so, they remained​‍ silent.

Even‍​‍ after manipulating public‌⁠ opinion against the⁠‌‍ Mercenary King and‍‌ causing chaos with‌‌‌ Gerlan, they only⁠‍‍ sent letters.

“And‌⁠ on top of​​ that, they stole‍ all my treasures…”⁠

Were‌‌‍ they playing around?‌ Mocking them? Or​ looking for something⁠ specific?

‘Whatever​​ it is, they⁠‍ won’t get away⁠ with it.’

Even​⁠​ though the power⁠‍ to activate the‍⁠‌ magic circle had​ been lost, the​‍⁠ construction was already​ complete.

With‍ the additional magic⁠‌‍ crystals obtained thanks‍ to the taxes,‌​ Linelt would be‍⁠ finished.

Then‌ they’d regret having⁠ taken all this‌‌ so lightly.

‘Fine,‌‍ then. Let’s see​​ their faces.’

Count‍ Pirandello felt his⁠‌ blood boil for​‍​ the first time​⁠​ in a long‌ while.

He‍ knew his enemy⁠‍ was behind all⁠⁠ of this.

“I’ll​⁠ go with the‍​​ second prince. I want to see​‍‌ with my own⁠ eyes who they‌⁠ are.”

And⁠ while they burned‌⁠ with rage over‌ the letters…

“Safe‍‌ journey, Wooden.”

— Gwoong.

Wooden​‍ placed another letter‌​ in a small‌ subspace pouch and⁠⁠⁠ left the Golden‌ Turtle’s secret hideout,⁠​‌ heading off to‍‌⁠ deliver the sixth⁠ missive.

With⁠‌⁠ the hope that‍ someday, his hand⁠​⁠ would carry not⁠‌‍ letters—but the shield.‌

***​⁠‍

The‍‍ second prince, remembering​‌ what had happened‌⁠ with the Mercenary​ King, departed with​ a much larger⁠⁠‍ escort. Count Patrick​ and his trusted‌‌ men accompanied him​‌​ as well.

The⁠‌⁠ second prince and‌⁠ Count Patrick had⁠​ cast the king⁠ into illness and,‍‌‌ after banishing the‍‌ first prince, had‌ gradually replaced the​ palace personnel with‍⁠​ their own men.​‍‍

Because‌ of this, many​ inevitable gaps had‌⁠⁠ formed within the‍‌ palace.

And‍‌‌ the first princess⁠ of the Kingdom⁠‍ of Linelt, Yuli⁠⁠​ Linelt, held her⁠‌ breath and slipped‌‍​ through those gaps.​

“Your‌⁠ Highness, this way.”‍

It⁠⁠⁠ was one of‍‌ the royal guards⁠‌‍ who, even amid‌ the chaos caused‍‌​ by the second​ prince and Count​​ Patrick, secretly maintained‌‍​ his loyalty to‌​ the royal family‍⁠ and guided the‌⁠ princess.

“Thank‍⁠ you.”

“It’s‍‍ nothing. From the‌ start, the fact⁠ that Your Highness​⁠‍ the princess couldn’t‍‍⁠ see His Majesty‍ made no sense.”‍‌

What​​⁠ harm was there‍ in a daughter‍‍‍ visiting her sick‍‍‌ father?

If​⁠‌ the order for⁠ isolation had at⁠​‍ least come directly⁠ from the king,‌ it might have⁠‍‌ some justification, but‌‍​ as it was​ a scheme by‍ the second prince‌⁠​ and Count Patrick,​⁠‍ there were several⁠⁠⁠ in the palace⁠ who did not‌‌⁠ approve.

Soon,‍‍ Yuli stood before⁠ the king’s room.​

“I⁠‌ will take my⁠​ leave. For twenty⁠​​ minutes, no one‍‍​ will come.”

“Thank‌ you again. I’ll​ never forget this⁠‌‌ favor.”

The​⁠ guard bowed silently‌‍ and vanished. Yuli‍ took a deep⁠ breath and softly⁠​ opened the door.⁠⁠​

Inside,⁠ covered with dark‍⁠ curtains, was a dim room where⁠​​ only a faint,⁠‍ ragged breathing could‌⁠ be heard.

“Father…”‌

Yuli‍ approached the bed⁠​⁠ and pulled back⁠⁠‍ the canopy. At‍​ first, she couldn’t⁠⁠ make out anything,​‌‍ but as her⁠ eyes adjusted to⁠​​ the darkness, she‍⁠ saw that longed-for​‌ face.

He​ was much more‌ emaciated and skeletal‌⁠ than when she​ had last seen⁠‍ him years ago.‍‍​

“…Damn‍ bastards!”

The⁠⁠ fury burst out‌⁠‍ on its own.‌‍ If she could,‍ she would have‌​ torn the second‍ prince and Count‌ Patrick to shreds‌ right then and​‍⁠ there.

But​ she had neither⁠‌​ the power nor‌​⁠ the authority.

For⁠‌ now, the only‌ thing she could‌ do was cling‍‌ to the rope​‍ that Fernan Pellenberg​‍ and Aint Armian‍‍​ represented, and lean‍‍‌ on them.

“Will⁠‍‌ this really work?”​

Truthfully,‍ she didn’t know.‌ But there was‌ no other choice.​​‍

Pop.‍ Yuli uncorked the⁠ bottle Fernan had⁠ given her. In‍​ her subspace pouch‌ she carried several‌‌ more; he had‌​ told her it‌‍​ was holy water.‍⁠

He⁠ assured her it​ was quite effective⁠​ against corrupt magic,‌ and that if​‍​ the king had‌‌ been affected by‌‍​ it, he might​ show some improvement.​

There‌‌ was nothing left​⁠⁠ but to trust.‍‍

“…Father,​⁠ I’m sorry.”

Yuli​⁠⁠ poured the holy⁠​​ water onto her⁠‍ father’s lips.

“It’s​‍ not enough for⁠‍ him to drink‍⁠ it. He must‌‍​ be fully submerged.”⁠​‌

“You‍​ want me to⁠‌ torture my sick⁠​​ father with water?”‍​

“It’s​ not torture, it’s​ treatment. And it’s‌⁠ the only way‍‍ to save him.⁠ Though if it‌‌‍ bothers you that⁠ much, there is‌⁠ another option.”

“What​⁠‍ is it?”

“The⁠ eyes, the mouth,⁠⁠‍ the ears, the‌⁠‌ nose. Pour holy‍​ water into every​​‌ orifice at the‍ same time. Ah,⁠ and also on‍‌⁠ the head.”

“……”‍⁠​

Yuli⁠‌ uncorked five vials⁠⁠⁠ at once and‍‌ poured them directly‍‍‌ onto her father’s‌‍ face.

“Grrrrrr…!”‌​​

The‍‍‌ king’s weak breathing‍‌ suddenly turned rough,‌​‍ as if he​ were about to​ collapse at any‍​ moment.

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