The Sweet Alpha Crown Prince Loves Me So Much

While Carl Lindbergh was having a tearful epiphany, Adrian, at the border, was on the verge of losing his mind.

“The crack on the communication device… has worsened?”

Adrian ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

The device had been perfectly fine, then a crack had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Initially just a hairline fracture, easily dismissed, it had now deepened to the point where the magic stone within was visible.

James gulped, watching Adrian’s face harden.

“If you use it again, it’ll shatter. We’ve requested a replacement from Heineken, but it will take at least two days to arrive.”

Communication devices, which projected the user’s surroundings in real-time, were different from other magic stones. Both the sender and the receiver had to actively channel their magic to activate them.

They were difficult to create and operate, and were not readily available to everyone. Only the most magically potent individual at each strategic location, responsible for immediate communication, possessed one.

Carl Lindbergh had called it the ‘ultimate’ magic tool.

Adrian fondly remembered Carl’s uncontainable excitement at the prospect of seeing and speaking to him directly through the device. Even Adrian had anticipated those intimate conversations, bridging the distance between them.

“We do have a spare emergency communication device, but as you know, it only connects to the Imperial Central Reserve Forces…”

James, understanding the reason behind Adrian’s frown, trailed off.

Adrian, sensing the apprehension of his men, who were already on edge, shook his head, dismissing the unspoken concern.

“It’s fine. I only have an emergency device myself. We can at least relay messages through the Imperial Palace if something urgent comes up.”

He pushed aside his anxiety at being unable to see Carl Lindbergh, focusing on the task at hand.

As Adrian composed himself, James, releasing a pent-up breath, resumed issuing orders to the soldiers.

Adrian had only planned to be at the border for three days.

His arrogance, his assumption that nothing would go wrong during those three days, had been a grave mistake.

He was the Crown Prince, a renowned magic stone researcher, surely he could have brought a spare, regardless of their rarity.

He’d let his guard down, caught up in the blissful bubble of his time with Carl Lindbergh.

He’d already been on edge, barely holding it together, unable to contact Carl casually due to the cracked device. Then, as if to add insult to injury, a horde of monsters erupted from the Mibari Forest.

In broad daylight.

The border patrol, sensing the unusual tremors, reacted swiftly, but the sheer number of monsters overwhelmed them.

There was no point in trying to figure out where they’d been hiding. They were clawing their way out of the earth.

Each one grotesquely deformed, their flesh tearing as they burrowed out of the ground, leaving gaping holes.

Initially, he’d assumed it was a new concealment tactic. But as their numbers swelled, Adrian realized they must be tunneling underground, using the surface monsters as a diversion.

–I received a message from Viscount Drambuie. He believes the monsters are artificially created ghouls.

Count Bourbon had contacted him even before Duke Hendrick’s message arrived.

That single sentence explained the monsters’ twisted forms and their erratic magical energy. Adrian immediately issued an emergency alert to all the villages bordering the Mibari Forest.

He’d only read about ghouls. This was his first encounter with the real thing.

These creatures, half-alive, half-dead, were called ‘ghouls’ because they fed primarily on corpses. However, their true preference was the flesh and blood of living humans.

So, despite the distance between the forest and the villages, the possibility of an attack couldn’t be ignored.

The only way to truly stop them was to locate and seal their base of operations. However, his current forces were barely enough to establish emergency perimeters around the villages and contain the relentless waves of monsters.

Adrian, delayed by overseeing the village evacuations, quickly took the lead, his rapier flashing in the sunlight.

He chose his rapier, despite having a broadsword at his side. A clear sign of his agitation.

Adrian wanted to tear his hair out.

The news of Belfry’s differentiation had reached him that morning, along with the message from the reserve forces.

Everyone, except for Carl, had remarked that it was inevitable. It was unusual for a Beta to be born to two dominant parents.

It had been common knowledge that Alpha-Omega pairings always produced differentiator offspring. This, however, was no longer the case.

An increasing number of Betas were being born, especially in families with multiple children.

Emperor Glenn declared it a sign of differentiator degeneration, and Adrian agreed.

Some Betas differentiating later in life was a rare but natural occurrence, triggered by pheromonal exposure.

Duke Hendrick’s response to Adrian’s perfunctory congratulations had been lukewarm.

He’d reported that Carl Lindbergh was more distressed than Belfry.

〈He seemed quite agitated. I’m unsure whether it’s because he identifies as a Beta, or if this is simply his first time witnessing a differentiation.〉

Duke Hendrick’s somber advice, urging Adrian to return as quickly as possible and be with Carl, filled Adrian with a sense of foreboding.

He should have brought Carl with him.

But what if he’d been injured in this chaos?

But what if something happened while he was away, beyond his reach?

Consumed by his anxieties, Adrian unleashed his fury.

Years of rigorous training, ingrained in him as a Crown Prince—‘Never be ruled by your emotions’—kept him from outwardly losing control. However, his rapier told a different story.

The soldiers watched in awe and horror as Adrian, forgoing his magic, mercilessly cut down the monsters.

Even for Adrian, a skilled swordsman and a powerful dominant Alpha, such ruthlessness was unusual, especially in the face of bloodshed. It was clear to everyone present that his suppressed nature had broken free.

!

“Tsk.”

A creature with eight spider-like legs lunged at him, its head severed in a flash.

Adrian, watching as the creature’s grotesque legs twitched before falling still, flicked the blood off his rapier. He briefly scanned his surroundings, ensuring no monsters were attempting to breach the defenses, then flung his rapier behind him without looking.

!

A chunk of monster flesh splattered against the back of his head.

The sticky residue disgusted him, reflecting his own foul mood.

“

!”

The rapier zipped back into his hand.

Feeling the familiar weight of the weapon, Adrian Heineken recalled his conversation with Carl Lindbergh the night before he’d left for the border.

〈A rapier that returns to its owner? Like Mjolnir.〉

〈What’s Mjolnir?〉

〈It’s… a hammer, wielded by a god. It returns to its owner when called.〉

〈What kind of god? What’s his name?〉

Carl, usually reserved about his personal life, was surprisingly unguarded during their intimate moments. Adrian, never one to miss an opportunity, had pressed for details.

〈Is his name… Hemsworth? No, wait… Thor! But I think he’s a fictional god.〉

Carl, cheeks flushed, eyes heavy with fatigue, had explained excitedly, describing a blonde, muscular man who wielded lightning. He’d even confessed to wanting to be like ‘Thor.’

Adrian, already wary of Carl’s affectionate younger sister, now had a ‘fictional god’ to add to his list of potential rivals. Annoyed by Carl, who was lamenting his own lack of muscles while fondling Adrian’s arms, he’d nipped at his cheek.

Carl, adding that Thor wasn’t a god but more of a human hero, his favorite ‘character’, had then stroked Adrian’s rapier.

〈Let’s give it a name. Mjolnir.〉

He’d then gulped down water, his throat dry, tilting his head thoughtfully.

Adrian, watching a trickle of water escape the corner of Carl’s lips, his eyes hazy and unfocused, chuckled softly.

〈Is it weird to give it someone else’s name? What if it doesn’t like it?〉

Carl Lindbergh was being absurdly considerate, as if an inanimate object could have preferences.

〈It’ll like it if you choose the name.〉

If the rapier were sentient, it would have no choice but to pretend, wouldn’t it?

〈Really? Okay then, Mjolnir. Take good care of our Adrian.〉

Adrian’s lips twitched, watching Carl blush and scratch his head, embarrassed by his own silliness.

He’d pulled Carl closer, holding him tight, struggling to calm his racing heart.

Adrian briefly wondered why people in Carl’s original world created fictional gods and treated them as heroes. But that was irrelevant. He cherished these moments, when Carl unconsciously lowered his guard, revealing his true self, drawing them closer.

Ignoring his churning stomach, his face an impassive mask that only amplified the terror he inspired, he sent Mjolnir flying, blood spraying with every arc.

The soldiers, exhausted, their magic reserves dwindling, averted their gazes from the Crown Prince’s face.

Adrian, normally rational and harmless, was a terrifying force unleashed.

Dominant Alphas weren’t revered without reason.

A mountain of ghoul corpses surrounded Adrian.

He stood amidst the carnage, catching his breath, then picked up his discarded cloak and wiped his face.

The designer who’d painstakingly embroidered the double wolf emblem onto their clothes since the engagement ceremony would have wept at the sight.

Adrian, his eyes bloodshot, addressed his men, his voice rough.

“Front line units, return to the village, rest, and regroup. The rear guard will take over and set up camp here.”

He then collapsed to the ground, ignoring their concerned glances, and lifted his shirt, inspecting his wounds.

A nearby knight cautiously addressed him.

“You should return to the rear as well, Your Highness. You haven’t slept in two days.”

Adrian shook his head, baring his canines. The soldiers flinched, seeing a flash of the Crown Prince’s ruthlessness.

“I’m staying. I’ll kill every last one of them. We’ll have dinner at Lindbergh Castle tomorrow evening.”