NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 23
At the Academy, even students have their own private spaces, though they’re not exactly common.
Moreover, for high-ranking nobles or imperial family members…
Truthfully, being allocated a space comparable in size to an entire classroom isn’t all that difficult.
Above well-furnished furniture and items, an intellectual atmosphere loomed.
A red-faced boy stood there, his face flushed like he was engulfed in flames as he vented his anger into thin air.
The red-haired youth
Suddenly turned his black eyes toward a young girl and asked,
“Sylas. Answer me this. What’s the reason? Why have you been stalling until now?”
The boy, who had approached her so closely she could feel his breath, trembled like a wild beast suppressing its rage.
Imperial Prince Alesius.
Of noble blood, untouchable even by those of royal lineage.
Take, for instance, the Golden Bloodline.
The current Hero Emperor is both the emperor of the Berke Empire and head of the Enzul family.
However, even the great Enzul family was once on shaky ground generations ago.
Strife among relatives and discord.
This led to numerous small and large-scale internal conflicts.
The authority of the imperial family was on the brink of collapse.
It was the current Hero Emperor who stabilized this power structure.
Still, one of his few flaws—if it can be called such—is that aside from Empress Melinos, he never accepted any other concubines.
The Order praised this as a model of marital fidelity.
As a result, the only heirs are Princess Ellie and Prince Alesius.
To the untrained eye, this might seem insignificant, but it signifies the potential for a power vacuum at any moment.
Nevertheless, the imperial family is celebrated as blessed by God because both the princess and prince possess unparalleled talent.
But if you look closely, the gap in their abilities and capacities becomes more pronounced.
Sylas, who had been gazing at his handsome yet fiery features, sharply met his darker eyes and replied,
“I don’t know what you’re asking.”
“That’s boring! It’s so boring!”
“Your Highness, Alesius.”
Sylas spoke with earnestness.
“Once Her Imperial Highness expressed her intention to become engaged and revealed her desire to keep him close, all our plans became meaningless. Please accept this gracefully.”
“So just because my sister wants it, I must endure it?! Me, Alesius?!”
“It is a decision made through the Emperor’s decree. As long as Carriel lives, there’s no turning back.”
“…”
Though Sylas’ words were cold, Allessius knew better than anyone how uneasy he truly felt.
Simply put, the fire in his chest was raging out of control.
Unable to bear it, he let out a frustrated growl.
“…Damn it.”
“Have you calmed down?”
He waved his hand dismissively.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you.”
“…Is this something that just started happening?”
“Hmph… Forget it.”
Despite his fiery temper, he quickly regained his composure and became calm.
Ironically, because he doesn’t hold grudges, he remains honest and approachable without pretense.
Being overly gentle, however, means failing to properly display the dignity expected of a ruler.
Any leader worth their salt needs boldness and courage to lead from the front.
Allessius may still show signs of immaturity and awkwardness, but he possesses enough inherent qualities to develop into a capable leader.
…The problem is…
He’s still young. Meanwhile…
The princess, not much older than him, has already begun embodying the role of a complete monarch.
She may be perfect as a ruler…
But she lacks warmth.
Even when she should express anger or joy, she remains silent and indifferent.
Rather…
Having emotions like the prince would be preferable.
Not that he recklessly throws tantrums everywhere.
His emotional expressions usually fall into two categories:
Enemy or ally.
With enemies, there’s no need to hold back since they’ll never notice anyway.
With allies, he naturally favors them since they’ll likely share his journey until the end.
“To warn you directly, does that also mean a warning towards me?”
“That’s right.”
Enough with the nonsense.
Once I’ve decided, I won’t tolerate any further antics or idleness.
“Politics can’t be denied.”
“I know! I know!”
Before passing the throne, securing the royal lineage is essential.
Perhaps the Emperor will live long enough that neither the current princess nor prince will ascend anytime soon.
Additionally, the bond between Lord Ruelde and the Hero Emperor…
Even the connection between the Holy Maiden and the Order remains unbroken.
“Who knows, maybe we’ll end up together someday.”
“Please wake up.”
“Of course, I don’t break promises.”
Sylas sighed.
“…Era is still trying her best to be worthy of Your Highness.”
“…”
Regardless of how things turn out, the reason their relationship can’t be completely severed lies here.
“I should pay her a visit.”
Just as he was calming his fluctuating emotions…
BAM!
“Your Highness.”
“What is it?”
A boy approached him and whispered something in his ear.
“What?! That makes no sense!”
“What’s wrong?”
The boy glanced at him expectantly.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?! If there’s nothing to hide, why are you looking at me like that?!”
“If that’s the case…”
Being around the prince means constantly facing his explosive temper.
The boy casually relayed the information to Sylas.
“Remberth, the swordsmanship instructor, was supposedly humiliated by Carriel, according to rumors spreading among the students.”
“Does that make sense?”
Sylas crossed his arms, equally bewildered.
“What do the witnesses say?”
“…More like some sort of trickery or sleight of hand rather than actual swordsmanship.”
“Sleight of hand?”
The prince interjected.
“Would someone skilled enough to teach swordsmanship at the empire level really fall for cheap tricks from some country bumpkin?”
“Not quite a bumpkin…”
Sylas’ comment triggered another outburst from the prince.
“That’s what I mean! His posture! His stance!”
Tsk, the prince clicked his tongue and gestured for the boy to continue.
“While technically using the sword, he apparently used strange positions and motions to overwhelm his opponent, causing them to stumble, drop their weapon, and fall.”
“…What exactly does that mean? No way, surely Lord Ruelde didn’t…?”
“Many are speculating that he learned something from Lord Ruelde.”
“We won’t know for sure unless we see it ourselves.”
After all, the prince himself studies under Ruelde.
While the prince has several tutors, his primary mentor is undoubtedly the legendary warrior Ruelde.
Not that Ruelde shows particular favoritism or provides extensive personal guidance…
He occasionally offers advice like “Try improving this area” or “Practice more,” but for someone like the prince who understands subtleties, these pointers are more than enough.
He respects Ruelde as a teacher.
Thinking about it, pushing the son so hard while doing this…
Initially, he didn’t intend to reject the boy so strongly.
But…
The more he observed, the more it irritated him, even bordering on anger.
‘Their laziness drives me crazy.’
Why does he act like he has nothing when he clearly has everything?
Surely Ruelde isn’t as strict or rigid as the Emperor…
Has he ever experienced punishment severe enough to tear skin and muscle, drawing streams of blood, without even allowing cries of pain?
Even his older sister sometimes endured various punishments for failing the Emperor’s tests.
Let alone himself.
So what?
‘Is that bastard stealing my sister?’
How could he possibly accept that?
Even if the guy were worthy of his sister, it would still irritate him.
That worthless dropout…
“How dare he…”
“Should I check it out first? Or would you prefer to investigate personally?”
“…”
There, the prince’s boiling emotions settled again.
“Sylas, what should I do?”
“You lose your cool whenever you see Carriel, so perhaps it’s better if I check first?”
“…You have a point.”
However…
“That doesn’t give me a reason to accept your suggestion.”
Whether he’s suddenly become competent…
Or was hiding his true strength all along…
“I must see it myself.”
If he’s improved, then as royalty responsible for guiding the people, shouldn’t he gladly acknowledge this progress?
However…
If it’s deception intended to manipulate public perception…
If it’s an attempt to cover up disgrace during the engagement announcement…
“Hmph.”
Personally exposing his false image…
Preemptively preventing future embarrassment…
Wouldn’t that demonstrate the benevolence and generosity expected of royalty?
====
-Swords of the mind exist.
Without realizing they’ve been struck…
They split the soul and shred the spirit like tearing apart leather, incredibly vicious.
-While the victim can’t properly respond, it may seem unfair, but ignorance and weakness are sins that must be borne personally.
Patience…
Even that has its limits.
-The limits of patience also have boundaries. When considering mental exertion consumes energy, why assume physical endurance doesn’t?
Enduring physical pain…
Mental anguish…
-Are similar. Your increasing inability to cope stems from unseen blades and blunt instruments battering your body.
“…”
Yet enduring despite everything…
-Incredibly absurd as it sounds, your ability to withstand hasn’t increased because you survived without dying.
“Is that good?”
-There are pros and cons.
Let’s say the capacity to endure has improved.
But…
-Haven’t your tolerances decreased proportionally? Why, when your reserves have expanded and filled, do you find it harder to endure than before?
Carriel, who had remained silent, responded with relative certainty.
“Is it because the pain has grown larger?”
-The essence aligns.
Given the wounds inflicted upon you haven’t healed…
They’ve never healed…
And every time a finger pokes into those wounds…
Every time a blade cuts and tears them open…
Then…
Filth, rotten water, scalding liquid, and salt are poured in generously…
Healing or recovery is impossible.
-Because you’ve continuously been struck and stabbed without respite. Today hurts more than yesterday, and tomorrow’s injuries cause even greater worry and distress, leading to fear of an uncertain future.
“…”
The reasons you couldn’t sleep…
Why you greeted the moon and hated the sun…
-Each day brought torment as the sun melted shadows.
Gratitude for the setting sun.
Resentment for the rising sun.
“…”
In the library, I sit in silence.
Gaze fixed outside the window…
Watching cautiously…
Chasing after someone…
Alternating between the lower entrance and the distant library door.
But with a different mindset than before.
Closing my eyelids…
From far away…
Footsteps approach faintly.
Perhaps it’s an auditory hallucination.
A phantom sound created by my fear and anxiety.
Yet sometimes these sounds match reality, though I wish they wouldn’t.
Temporarily captivated by baseless auditory illusions.
Thud thud thud…
What seemed to hover between illusion and reality finally takes form.
The phantoms lingering in my mind dissipate.
The sound of footsteps hitting the ground becomes real.
“…”
Turning my gaze…
There stands the prince and his entourage.
They’ve just noticed me, halting to glare fiercely in my direction.
The prey, cornered with an injured hind leg, buries its face in a small burrow.
All it could do was endure.
The frail rabbit.
Today, it finally faces the predator.
Partially by choice.
Partially forced.