The Kidnapped Prince is Mine Now - Chapter 17

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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 17
“…?”
Rotar’s brow furrowed immediately. His gaze turned toward his aunt.
The Staufen Margrave was calmly pouring wine into her mouth. We had already reached an agreement on this matter beforehand. I pressed forward with unwavering resolve.
“You see, in the Graupels region, the legend of Zaikas has been passed down like a fairy tale. You know it, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
The legend of Zaikas. A tale of how the god of war, who once reveled in merciless slaughter, encountered a strong and wise woman and came to understand love.
After that, the god of war ceased his indiscriminate massacres and lived protecting the land where the woman dwelled.
And where was that, you ask? Behold—Graupels.
“Everyone here knows it’s not merely a legend that ends there.”
The descendants of the woman who inherited Zaikas’s power—that is, the members of House of Staufen—were born with unusually robust bodies, overflowing strength, and reflexes that defied common sense.
It was a world where people could be healed through sacred power and dragons soared through the skies.
‘Though I hadn’t known it extended to effortlessly crushing iron doors.’
Just look at the Staufen Margrave standing before me now.
Her frame was as tall as most male knights, with broad shoulders and a fierce gaze that emanated the commanding presence of a seasoned warrior.
Though her temperament and stubborn nature seemed to be separate matters entirely.
“So you mean to summon Zaikas himself? To have him fight Naksura?”
Rotar interjected with a dissatisfied expression.
This man—who casually invoked his ancestor’s name like that? In a Confucian nation, such a thing would be unimaginable!
In any case, the descendants of Staufen were ultimately still human. As long as Maximilian borrowed the power of a demon, Rotar could never defeat him in combat, no matter what he did.
Unless, that is, he actually summoned Zaikas himself.
“I wish it were that simple, but I don’t know how.”
How to summon a god? If I knew that, I would have summoned Pelmira long ago and seized her by the collar.
After rifling through the Cathedral Library across several lifetimes, I had found no method for summoning a god who merely observes the human realm.
It was different from demons, who eagerly prowled for human depravity and constantly proposed transactions.
Yet I had discovered a method that could produce a similar effect.
“Blessing of the Battlefield.”
At those words I uttered, ripples spread across Rotar’s eyes.
“Through Zaikas’s blessing, one can elevate a descendant’s combat abilities. To the level of a god, even.”
There were records in the Cathedral Library. Several generations ago, that power had been used to expand the Empire’s borders and repel terrible monster waves.
When I first met the Staufen Margrave, I had verified the truth of those records.
However.
“That was long ago.”
Rotar spoke in a subdued voice. He turned his head and asked the Margrave as well.
“Isn’t that so? Neither you nor your grandmother have ever received the Blessing of the Battlefield, have you?”
At his sharp observation, the Margrave merely raised her eyebrows. It was true, after all. When I first met her, she had told me directly.
‘Holy Maiden, we have not received the Blessing of the Battlefield for a very long time.’
Therefore, Rotar’s reaction was precisely as I had anticipated.
But what of it?
Persuasion would suffice. I pulled my chair closer to Rotar and broached the subject.
“Rotar, do you lack the nerve? What’s lost can be found again. Think about it. There’s everything buried in the territory you lost long ago, isn’t there?”
“…Wait.”
Rotar’s eyes narrowed. His expression screamed disbelief.
By now, he would understand. Ill omens never miss their mark.
“Drakenloch. Come with me there. We need to find a way to receive the blessing of the battlefield.”
“Are you serious?”
“Does it look like I’m not?”
I met Rotar’s gaze directly as I spoke.
“If you don’t want to dig, then gamble. What other choice is there?”
Two hundred years ago, beyond the snowy peaks where no Imperial citizen had set foot since the pact with the barbarians—Drakenloch.
I was saying that unless we mounted an expedition to that place, everyone here would meet a dog’s death.
***
To be frank, Rotar had no say in the matter. It was already settled between me and the Margrave.
“Some of the Graufels Knights will accompany you.”
It was natural for the Holy Knight Order to join the journey. By now, the Archbishop had likely heard the news and either suffered a stroke or was taking measures, but there were no problems.
High risk, high reward. If Rotar could only bring down Maximilian, then endless glory and riches would follow for the knights who had decided to follow House of Staufen and the Holy Maiden.
‘Wolfgang keeps his subordinates on a tight leash anyway.’
In any case, once Rotar was informed of the journey to Drakenloch, he grew even quieter. Until the banquet ended, he sat lost in thought, repeatedly running one hand across his face.
I let him organize his thoughts in peace.
Abduction. Marriage. And now a life-or-death expedition. It was understandable that he was exhausted—so many pivotal events had crashed down upon him in such a short span of time.
The Margrave, too, had checked on his nephew’s state and said nothing more. Perhaps he still chose his moments and places before pressing him.
The way he’d heaped nourishing foods onto Rotar’s plate, and how his earlier antics could be reinterpreted as twisted affection—it all suggested as much.
So I hadn’t anticipated what would happen on the way back to my room.
“Elise.”
“Hmm?”
“My bedroom door is locked.”
“….”
That mad Margrave must have already made his move.
Rotar stood before me, his hand on the doorknob that clicked uselessly.
I swallowed a shallow sigh at the questioning look in his eyes and gestured.
“Use the connecting passage to my room.”
“I’ll excuse myself then.”
As I suspected, the doorknob to my room turned very smoothly. I opened the door and stepped inside, where a thick aroma wafted toward me.
The source was the small table beside the bed. Above the candlestick, candles burned with a luminous glow. The reason the flames caught my eye immediately was simple.
“The room is quite dark.”
All the lamps had been extinguished.
Who had ordered the room to be dimly lit with only the flickering light of scented candles?
Obvious. Painfully obvious. By now, I could predict what came next.
“The connecting passage door is also locked.”
Good grief, how predictable!
“Just destroy it.”
“That would constitute unnecessary property damage.”
Fair point.
“What about using a different room?”
“Given my aunt’s temperament, she’s likely locked them all.”
This woman was absolutely mad.
At this point, I surrendered. I swallowed a deep sigh and raised both arms.
“Fine, it’s not as though we haven’t shared a bed before. I’ll sleep here.”
For a moment, Rotar Eisenrit’s expression seemed to brighten—or was that merely my imagination? When I looked at his face as he approached, it had returned to his usual impassive mask.
He swept his gaze lightly over my appearance and asked.
“Allow me to assist you with undressing.”
Here we go again. I stepped back and shook my head.
“Just call the maidservants.”
“They won’t come.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“I know my aunt well.”
This man truly had no limits.
On impulse, I pulled the bell cord beside the bed. Yet minutes passed without a single knock upon the bedroom door.
Rotar Eisenrit waited with patience, then spoke once more.
“It will be futile.”
Had I ever witnessed him assert something with such certainty? Only those who had long endured the Margrave’s peculiarities remained unshaken by his unconventional behavior.
I irritably hurled the cord away.
“Why is the Margrave so interested in his niece’s nighttime arrangements?”
Rotar Eisenrit caught the cord as it flew toward my face, responding without hesitation.
“I consider the succession of House of Staufen.”
“Succession?”
That was a more plausible topic than I’d expected.
Rotar Eisenrit guided me toward the vanity as he continued.
“My aunt remained unwed for a considerable time after her husband’s passing. No one anticipated she would take a commoner as her second husband, let alone one so much her junior.”
Ah, now this was quite interesting.
I settled into the chair, recalling the bespectacled man’s face. Unlike the Margrave, he appeared incapable of crushing even an insect.
“She is too advanced in years to fulfill her duty to preserve the bloodline, so she has entrusted that responsibility to me. I am the only direct heir of House of Staufen besides her.”
How thoroughly aristocratic. Bloodlines, succession—matters I had never once contemplated in my life as a commoner.
Regardless, I understood the Margrave’s intentions well enough. The extinction of Zaikas’s line would constitute a loss to the realm itself.
However.
“So you’re asking me to cooperate?”
I had never agreed to any contract regarding the bearing of heirs.

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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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