Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing - Chapter 138

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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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The Successor Doesn’t Know, But I’ll Prioritize Healing — Episode 138

Lion checked the money in his inventory.

‘How much was it the last time I checked?’

He’d definitely earned fifty thousand Shillings from an achievement after saving Barg, so it should’ve been just over two hundred fifty thousand Shillings.

“Huh?”

But there was more stacked up than he’d expected!
Over three hundred thousand Shillings?

‘Did I unlock a bunch of smaller achievements in the meantime?’

Now that he thought about it, he’d acquired new talents and leveled up quite a lot.
There’d been so many notifications that he’d apparently dismissed all the minor ones without paying attention.

“Not bad at all.”

Having more funds than anticipated put him in a considerably good mood.

‘At this rate, even if I spend moderately, I’ll reach a million Shillings before long.’

Lion made his way to a quiet alley, leaned against the wall, and opened the Shilling shop right away.

[Welcome, valued customer.]
[Would you like to view the merchandise?]

“Show me synthesis catalyst items. Lowest price first.”

Wait, wouldn’t there be too many varieties if he did it that way?
Lion paused briefly, then added one more stipulation.

“Only items related to blacksmithing.”

[Retrieving all items containing ‘synthesis catalyst’ and ‘blacksmith,’ sorted by lowest price.]

A fair number of items began streaming past in a list.
Synthesis.
In the game, it had been one of the most crucial items.
Of course, synthesis was possible without a catalyst if two materials had good compatibility with each other, but as you moved into higher-tier crafting, catalysts became indispensable.
The inherent characteristics of the materials grew progressively stronger.
That’s why catalysts typically came in as auxiliary materials, but…….

‘I could make auxiliary catalysts too, if I wanted.’

But right now, he was short on time.
The demonic beast’s egg would hold out for a long while, certainly, but how much must it have suffered in the meantime?

‘Still, I’m glad I managed to scrape together some Shillings.’

Wasn’t that what emergency funds were for?
Lion decided to indulge freely.

“Let’s see what we have…….”

[Illegal Cracker]
-A snack for a blacksmith with a twisted heart.
–Allows synthesis of any item through illegal means, though we assume no liability if you’re caught.
–Before consuming the Cracker, you must sign a contract stating the seller bears no responsibility. (Complimentary contract included)
–40,000 Shillings

Pass.
Lion scrolled down at once.

[Dwarf King’s Cup]
–Drink just one cup of beer and we’ll temporarily transform you into a Dwarf King.
–Naturally, hiccup! Couldn’t you then strengthen any item you please?
–70,000 Shillings

“Hmm.”
The effect itself seems remarkable, but there are a few things that trouble me.
What’s this business about “temporary”?
And he’d be drunk the whole time.

“Let me look at a few more things first.”

If there were no other options, he’d resort to it, but becoming a dwarf held no appeal for him.

[Bubble Mold]
–A mold that turns into bubbles and vanishes the moment you synthesize an item in it.
–But the effect is guaranteed! Even beginners can carve whatever shape they want!
–Dissolution Liquid included complimentary
–Single-use item.
–160,000 Shillings ☞ 80,000 Shillings! (Clearance sale, 50% off!)

“…”

A mold that vanishes after one use—now he understood why it was marked for clearance.
But…
It was still the best of the three.
Everything that came after was beyond Lion’s current means.

“I’ll go with the Bubble Mold.”

The effect is reliable, at least.
And it says the Dissolution Liquid comes free.

[Item purchased!]
[Bubble Mold permanently bound to you.]
[Lost 80,000 Shillings.]
[Current balance: 223,400 Shillings.]

His finances were healthier than expected, making the decision possible.

“All right. Now…”

He needed to visit Mudu and borrow his blacksmith shop.
Lion checked his inventory, stepped out of the alley, and made straight for Mudu’s forge.

* * *

Emperor Tailius found himself deeply uncomfortable in this place.

“…”

The reason was simple: the Marquis of House Asteri sat directly before him.
Those eyes, deep purple like an abyss, rippled as though Mana might burst forth at any moment.
The Emperor swallowed dryly and opened his mouth.

“A few days ago, I heard news of bandits appearing in the Lingen Territory.”
“Please, continue.”

Patrick regarded him with the air of a man settling in to watch how this fool would run his mouth.

‘I must do well.’

The Emperor repeated this to himself.
If he stumbled and earned displeasure… he couldn’t guarantee what came after.

“Ahem, it is truly lamentable. I have told the First Imperial Prince many times that ‘nothing is more important than the security of the Empire,’ and yet—”

The Emperor continued, dabbing cold sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.

“But it appears the Prince, still lacking in maturity, has failed to properly oversee the Empire’s security. Therefore, I have personally inflicted punishment upon him.”
“Ho.”

Patrick let out a snort of laughter.
So that’s how he meant to play it.

‘The Emperor grows old, but his wits sharpen yet.’

It was not a bad approach.

“What manner of punishment?”

Patrick asked as though ignorant, though he already knew the answer. The Emperor’s reply came swiftly.

“I judged it a grave sin to neglect one’s people, and commanded him to remain in confinement until my birthday.”
“And is there more?”
“Furthermore, I have forbidden him to receive visitors.”
“Hmm…”

The Emperor lacked administrative aptitude as a rule, but he had the foresight to establish discipline in matters like this—his execution was swift.
Not a poor outcome, but…

“And what other punishment have you imposed?”

Patrick was not a man to stop here.
After all, he had touched his own grandchild—the apple of his eye.

“And…”

What else could there possibly be?
This alone seemed excessive for the Empire’s First Imperial Prince.
He could already foresee how the First Prince’s faction would react.

—Your Majesty!
—Please reconsider this decision!
—No matter how grave the error, he remains the First Imperial Prince of the Empire.

Stress throbbed behind his eyes. Then anger surged up in his chest.
Not at Patrick, but…

‘Why did the First Imperial Prince let himself be so fooled!’

At the First Imperial Prince himself.
Tsk. That incompetent fool.
The Emperor inwardly cursed his own son with fierce intensity.
The Empress was hardly a fool, yet why did her ambitions weigh as heavily as gold and silver, while her thoughts drifted as lightly as clouds?
The Emperor refused to fault himself in the least.
In truth, he would have preferred not to pass the throne at all, but…
Elevating the Second Imperial Prince—whose eyes gleamed with the sharpness of a blade ready to pierce his throat at any moment—would have been the greater folly, so he held his tongue.
And this was also an opportunity to land a blow against House Asteri.
Word had quietly spread that the heir to House Asteri supported the Second Imperial Prince.
But barring any unforeseen circumstance, surely the throne would fall to the First Imperial Prince—the eldest son, of pure blood.
If that came to pass, the heir of House Asteri could be branded with a lasting stain: that he lacked discernment in choosing men, or that the House of old was no more.

‘I do not wish for the downfall of that monstrous family.’

The Emperor’s mind had long been subject to rigorous conditioning in his youth, yet the terror he had felt then remained both a shackle and a grievance.
Thus, there existed within him a desire to humble House Asteri at least once during his reign.
Of course, that resentment would have to be carefully folded away and buried deep within his heart for now.
The Emperor, Tailius, reached for his teacup with trembling hands, avoiding Patrick Asteri’s gaze, and drained the hot water in one gulp.
The water had just come to a boil and scalded his mouth, but he had no room to care about such things.

“……Funds for the maintenance of his household have likewise been suspended until the day of my birthday.”

He had cut off the purse strings entirely.
With this done, the First Imperial Prince would be unable to move freely for several months at least.
It was a considerable cost to the Emperor as well, but…
It was better than becoming an outright enemy to Patrick Asteri.

“Hmm. Your Majesty’s meaning will surely not escape the First Imperial Prince.”

Patrick withdrew his surging Mana.
It signaled that he would allow this matter to pass at this point.

“But what has become of the bandits?”

A man who had sat in silence until now opened his mouth.

Glance.

Patrick’s eyes shifted diagonally across the room to study the speaker.

‘So he came after all.’

None other than the Archbishop.
Truthfully, the Archbishop meeting with the Emperor was hardly an extraordinary occurrence.
Yet implicitly, Patrick and the Archbishop seldom encountered one another.
They held secret meetings when necessary, but officially they were ‘rivals’, were they not?
Yet the moment he awoke from sleep, he had abandoned the Temple and come seeking the Emperor—for reasons Patrick could not fathom.
And he did so knowing full well that Patrick would be present.

‘Has he not shaken off the sleep yet?’

Patrick did not speak of it, but he knew the Archbishop had been in deep slumber.
Knowing that the Archbishop periodically fell into such profound sleep, there were many who took advantage of his absence to grow bold.
And moreover…
His grandson had committed some grave transgression within the Temple.
A defilement of the Sanctum, no less!
From what he heard, it had happened while the boy was acting on behalf of some young child.
That gentle heart of his was admirable enough, yet at the same time it troubled him.
And the reason was…

‘A madman.’

Patrick shook his head inwardly.
The Archbishop appeared so gentle, so good-natured, but the man was utterly mad.
In ordinary moments, he was kindness and compassion itself.
A soft expression, a warm smile. Even that instinct to look tenderly upon the suffering.
But.
The moment anything involved the “Hero,” his eyes went wild.
For that reason, he was one of the people Patrick would keep his grandson away from as much as possible.

‘Of course, I understand why he’s obsessed with it…….’

The reason was obvious enough.
It was because of the Saint.
But his past obsession must not be allowed to pull back his grandson, who was thriving in the present day.
That’s why Patrick had planned to avoid meeting him directly for some time, yet the Archbishop had appeared without warning.

‘What scheme is he plotting?’

Patrick watched the Archbishop carefully, betraying nothing.
The Emperor, unaware of the Archbishop’s true thoughts, answered with visibly relaxed tension.

“I executed the brigands myself.”
“How dreadful.”

The Archbishop offered a look of genuine sorrow, then offered a light prayer.

“Now the Lord shall judge them directly, for they tormented an innocent soul for their own selfish gain.”

But what followed was merciless. Worse still, it was cruelly spoken.
The Divine Judgment, as it was called, was known as Soul Punishment.
The Temple used that word when discussing punishments even more terrible than execution or burning at the stake.

……

Something was amiss.

“Ah, from what I’ve heard, such unfortunate incidents have been occurring quite frequently of late.”
“You say so?”
“Yes. Perhaps it would be wise to prepare for whatever may come.”

After that, the Archbishop continued speaking of not knowing what might happen in the future, of how His Majesty the Emperor must guard his health carefully, and other such hollow platitudes.
As if he were deliberately trying to dismiss the Emperor.
Clearly, he had something to say to Patrick.

‘It’s likely because of…….’

His grandson.

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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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