For the Young Villain’s Happy Ending - Chapter 6

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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Chapter 6

The Tunterra Empire had fallen.
With the royal family dead by the merciless Grand Mage’s magic, it was utter annihilation.

‘That’s what they would think. That I’m the merciless Grand Mage.’

I gazed at the translucent window hovering before me, lost in thought.

“Raina.”

Then, hearing a child’s voice calling my name, I turned to the side.

“Doesn’t it taste good…?”

Only then did I realize I’d been eating on a bench in the Villa Garden.
The sandwich in my hand was one that Kevenriak had cut himself and shared half with me.
His blue eyes looked at me with concern, as if worried he’d given me something I wouldn’t eat.

“No, it’s delicious.”

I quickly took a bite of the sandwich, and the child’s face brightened.
Though I ate as if it tasted good, I couldn’t really taste the sandwich at all.

A single potato covered in dirt. I could see a sprout that hadn’t been fully peeled away.
Today’s meal given to Tiernan Fargan.

Tiernan Fargan. The male protagonist of ‘The Garden of Betuzhenia’ and the last surviving royal of the Tunterra Empire on this land.
A person experiencing a childhood just as unfortunate as Kevenriak’s.

‘They expect me to meddle in the male protagonist’s narrative too?’

That was impossible.
I’d already become deeply involved in Kevenriak’s childhood.
If I were to touch the male protagonist’s narrative as well, the original story fourteen years from now that I knew would unravel unpredictably.
Just like this sandwich in my hands, its filling scattered everywhere.

‘Not a chance.’

I swallowed the sandwich that felt awkward in my mouth and steeled my resolve.

***

“It’s a blessing that all the Tunterra royal family is dead.”

Underground Level 1.
Before the iron-barred prison cells that lined one entire wall, Slave Traders relied on a few lanterns as they played poker.

“What’s the point of surviving? All the survivors of the Tunterra Empire are becoming slaves anyway.”

The people of the Tunterra Empire, stripped of their nation and homeland.
The laws of the Betuzhenia Empire could not fully protect them.
As the empire’s territory expanded, so too did the regions beyond its reach.
The Slave Traders seized this opportunity to plunder and kidnap the Tunterra refugees.

“Heh heh. The world’s become quite favorable. Let’s make ourselves rich in the process.”
“Before that happens, I’ll be the one getting rich. Full house. Hand over the money.”

The loud laughter of a Slave Trader echoed through the underground chamber.
Inside the iron-barred prison.
The dozens of Tunterra Empire citizens imprisoned as slaves also heard that sound, yet not a single one stirred.
Having lost all will to resist, they merely huddled or lay upon the floor, their lives surrendered to despair.

“….”

Tiernan Fargan, now ten years old this year, was much the same.
He sat in one corner of the prison cell, staring into empty space with vacant eyes.

“You must escape, Your Highness.”
“I won’t. Nanny! I…!”
“You must survive. There is no one left of the royal family but you.”

It had already been more than a month.
The last imperial bloodline of the Tunterra Empire.
Tiernan Fargan had been pushed by Nanny to flee, leaving the burning Imperial Palace behind.
I survived, but I didn’t know what to do alone.
Yet there was nowhere to return to.
The streets were merciless. Hunger, cold, drowsiness, and exhaustion stalked the child relentlessly.
Desperate to survive, I wandered the streets scavenging through garbage bins until a passing Slave Trader caught me and brought me to this place.

‘I am….’

No one knows that I am the imperial prince of the Tunterra Empire.
Perhaps it’s better if it remains unknown. Better than spending a lifetime as a spectacle—a slave prince.

Thud. Thud.
The sound of knocking on the door echoed. The prisoners inside shrank back.
The knock was a signal. Soon, someone would be sold into slavery.

“Yes, coming—.”

One Slave Trader climbed the stairs.
Moments later, he returned with a visitor cloaked entirely in a long robe, standing before the iron bars.

“Choose one.”
“….”

The visitor’s eyes swept across the caged prisoners before an arm rose.
A finger hidden beneath the robe’s sleeve pointed to a boy huddled in the corner.

“That one’s too young—won’t have much strength.”

The Slave Trader stroked his chin as he spoke.
He intended to recommend a stronger slave, as they fetched higher prices.
But the moment the visitor silently handed over a purse of gold coins, his face lit up with greed, and he quickly produced a ring of keys to unlock the iron gate.

“Young ones have their merits, though. They last longer. And they obey well enough?”

Screech. The rusted iron bars shrieked with a bone-chilling sound.
The Slave Trader entered the cell, subdued the struggling boy by force, hoisted him onto his shoulder, and carried him out.

“Let go of me!”

Tiernan Fargan, forced to his knees on the floor, thrashed against his captors.
I had witnessed this enough times to know what was coming.
What these men were about to do to me.
Two Slave Traders forced a filthy cloth into Tiernan’s mouth and pressed down on his shoulders.
His small back, bent by force, was exposed upward.

“Stay still. It’ll be over soon.”

Another Slave Trader approached, holding a long branding iron.
Its tip, glowing crimson with heat, was directed toward Tiernan’s back.
The scorching warmth radiated through his clothes. Cold sweat poured down like rain in an instant.
Tiernan squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the searing pain that would soon consume his skin.

“That’s enough.”

A woman’s flat voice stopped the Slave Trader.
A female customer, then.
With luck, they’d gain one more commodity.
The Slave Trader holding the iron aloft asked greedily.

“Won’t you brand him with the slave mark?”
“I’ll apply my family seal once I take him home.”

A noble, then.
The Slave Trader, disappointed, clicked his tongue and gestured to the men restraining Tiernan.

“Take him away. Here’s the key to the restraint collar.”

A restraint collar—a small leash fitted around a slave’s neck, adorned with a bead.
Each collar had a matching key, and with it one could manipulate the bead to inflict pain or release the collar entirely.
The customer accepted the key.

“Much obliged.”
“….”

With that, she grabbed the rope binding Tiernan Fargan’s wrist and stepped outside.
Beyond lay a village that had been a battlefield mere months ago.
The villagers who had evacuated had not yet returned, leaving the surroundings desolate.
Tiernan Fargan closed his eyes—green like the verdant forest—savoring the outside air he hadn’t felt in so long.
A breeze from somewhere stirred his silver hair gently as it passed.

“Listen.”

As they reached the village entrance, the woman who had been walking ahead at a measured pace came to a halt.

“Don’t you think it’s rather petty to use food as leverage like that?”

What was she talking about?
Tiernan Fargan, who had also stopped, quietly observed her back as she uttered these inexplicable words.
She muttered a soft curse toward the sky, then turned to face him.
He had hoped to see her face, but a large hood obscured half of it, leaving only her chin visible.
Skin as pale as pearls. Beyond that, he could discern no other feminine features.

“My child is incredibly adorable, you see? But she grew up without being able to eat properly.”
“…?”
“That’s just how it is.”

The woman, who had been speaking in riddles, let out a short sigh and brought her hand to Tiernan Fargan’s neck.
With a click, the restraint came undone.

“You make sure to eat well wherever you go.”

She discarded the restraint on the ground, then pressed a small pouch and a sword into Tiernan Fargan’s hands.
Tiernan Fargan stared at what he held, bewildered.

“What is this?”
“Freedom.”
“…?”
“Inside the pouch are identification papers proving you’re a citizen of the Betuzhenia Empire, along with money. The pouch has spatial magic enchanted on it, so there are other necessities inside—check later. You know how to use a sword, don’t you?”

Identification papers of a Betuzhenia Empire citizen.
Tiernan Fargan’s face twisted without his realizing it.

‘Is she telling me to use the identity of my enemy?’

I cannot accept it.
If I’m to live as a citizen of the Betuzhenia Empire, I’d rather die. I’d rather live as a slave.
When my mind burned white with fury, the woman patted my head.

“If you have an identification document, you won’t be captured as a slave. Finding work a few years from now will be easier too.”

Tiernan Fargan pushed away her hand and shouted.

“…I don’t need this garbage!”
“An identification document from those who destroyed my nation? You’re saying you won’t accept help from an enemy?”
“That’s right!”

The woman’s eyes, hidden beneath the shadow of her hood, fixed upon me.

“Then use it. Don’t think of it as help. And survive.”
“Who are you to say such things to me?”
“The one who bought your life.”

My fists clenched tight. Indignant, yet I could not refute her words.

“Survive.”
“….”
“There’s someone you promised to meet again in a few years, isn’t there?”

How could she know? A flicker of surprise kindled in my eyes.
There was a girl I’d promised to reunite with—her smiling face was so beautiful it made my heart race.
The woman’s lips curved into a faint smile beneath her hood as she spoke.

“Live the life you wish to live. You are free now, Tiernan Fargan.”
“Who are you…!”

A cry of astonishment escaped my lips.
She had called my name—the name of the Crown Prince of the Tunterra Empire.
I lunged desperately to seize her, but a sudden gust of wind obscured my vision.
When the wind subsided, I stood alone.
I gazed for a long time at the place where she had vanished.
A light of resolve was seeping into eyes that had been hollow with despair.

“…I will find you.”

I had to find that woman who knew I, the imperial prince, was alive.
I had to find her and learn how she knew of my existence.
Until then, I could not die.
Tiernan Fargan fastened his sword to his waist and slung his bag across his shoulder. Then he began walking forward.

***

“Aaaahhhhh!”
“W-we’re dying…!”

The slave traders were trapped within a vortex of wind that filled one section of Underground Level 1, unable to escape.
It was wind that had blown in while they were dividing the money from selling a child at an exorbitant price.

Already dozens of minutes had passed.
In that time, the enslaved people who had emerged from beyond the iron bars shattered by the wind had all removed their shackles and fled.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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