The Scoundrel Prince Sold Out the Empire - Chapter 14

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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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Episode 14: Teragarth Labor Farm (2)
I sent Gaigen out so we could talk properly.
“Your Highness, whenever you visit our department store, I shall attend to you personally…!”
After Gaigen disappeared, lingering disappointment written all over his face,
I fell into brief contemplation before beginning earnest negotiations with Reizzo.
‘The Guide Ring doesn’t respond to Royal Bloodline. That much is certain.’
When it had responded to Winter, I’d harbored a faint suspicion, and that sliver of possibility had soured my mood.
The ring responded because traces of Royal Bloodline ran through the veins of Lemicognin, that notorious traitor of the realm?
Now that today had proven otherwise, I felt oddly relieved.
But the mystery itself hadn’t dissolved—it had only deepened.
‘To find out why the ring responded, my best option is to make the farm mine and tear into it piece by piece. I need to complete the purchase smoothly, and I need to act well enough that Reizzo has no reason whatsoever to suspect anything.’
Ugh, I despise this kind of mental labor.
……Ah.
I glanced at Winter.
That alleyway gambler who spouted nonsense about branding and business management as if it were strategy, then charmed two businessmen with it.
“Reizzo. Why don’t you step out for a bathroom break as well.”
“Pardon?”
“If the business fails, make sure you don’t enlist. Go on.”
“Ah, yes. Understood.”
Reizzo left reluctantly, closing the door slowly behind him.
From his manner, it wasn’t that he lacked perception—he simply didn’t want to leave.
“Your Highness, do you really intend to purchase that farm in Teragarth? That’s like paying money to buy garbage. I’m opposed.”
That was why Reizzo hadn’t wanted to leave. He must have anticipated that Winter would say something like this.
Still, given how harsh his tone had become, the farm purchase must indeed be a terrible financial loss.
“I have no choice. It’s the same reason I’ve decided to keep you by my side.”
“I… beg your pardon?”
Ah, hell. Did that sound like keeping him by my side was equivalent to paying money to buy garbage?
Well, it wasn’t a lie, at least.
“I’ve suddenly taken a liking to purchasing the Teragarth Farm. Regard it as the whimsical command of your prince—arrange for the farm to be purchased from Reizzo cleanly, without any problems whatsoever, with not even a shadow of doubt. Understood?”
Seeing Winter exhale, my mouth curled up slightly.
“Complete the transaction successfully, and I’ll forgive the five million Luon you pocketed. Does that motivate you somewhat?”
“When you put it that way, it motivates me considerably.”
While Winter set his mind to work, Reizzo returned.
“Ahem, Your Highness.”
“Good timing. Finish your discussion with my advisor.”
I lifted a glass and examined the decorative cabinet on the wall as though utterly disinterested.
Reizzo smacked his lips ruefully—unlike the prince, who as a negotiating partner was less than formidable and downright naive, Winter’s tongue was far from dull.
“Director Reizzo, you may call me Advisor Flowering. Let me get straight to the point. His Highness dislikes tedious procedures, so if you state your desired price, we shall pay it in full without haggling.”
Equally naive, perhaps?
The thought crossed Reizzo’s mind.
“Then how about twelve million Luon?”
Zion’s current total wealth amounted to slightly less than five million Luon.
Over double that was being demanded—far beyond my ability to pay.
Winter doesn’t seem the type to have failed to anticipate this situation.
‘What in blazes is he thinking?’
Fine, I’ll trust he knows what he’s doing. Since I’ve left it to him, I should stop worrying.
If things go poorly, I’ll just make him earn the money to clean up the mess himself.
‘Teragarth. Was there something related to the Royal Family in Teragarth?’
I sifted through memories from my childhood at the Royal Palace and the stories Father and Mother used to tell.
Nothing came to mind.
“And here lies the secret to my reduced labor costs. Through lobbying, I ensure that the prisoners created by Zion Blije serve their labor sentences at my farm. Though slavery was abolished long ago, in practice I work them like slaves. Ha-ha-ha!”
Just as I was in the middle of reasoning about the ring, my ears perked up.
A name had reached my ears—one that demanded attention.
“Wait. Say that again. Zion Blije—what?”
Reizzo’s eyes widened as he explained his labor-cost reduction strategy anew.
In summary, it was this:
“Zion Blije is a figure revered by the Subversive Elements of Debert. He is both the Crown Prince and the head of the Liberation Forces.”
About a year ago, that Zion Blije had fallen into a trap and been captured by the Empire.
Needless to say, after the capture was made public, a massive wave of resistance had swept through Debert.
“Foolish wretches, defending criminals like that. This is exactly why Debert needs modernizing all the more urgently. I hear there’s someone churning out subversive pamphlets, who was recently placed on a wanted list. Preposterous.”
The Public Security Bureau under the Governor’s Office had rounded up all the Debert demonstrators and classified them as subversive elements and reactionary forces.
Every last one of them became a prisoner, sentenced to either execution or lengthy imprisonment.
“This is where I step in. I have them sentenced to labor instead, and designate our farm as the location where they serve their sentence.”
Thus was born the secret to creating Debert labor slaves—unable to flee because guilt by association held their families hostage.
“I see. So oppression bears sweet fruit after all.”
“Oppression…, sir?”
Reizzo, the manager, looked bewildered.
Well, to him—a man of privilege and Empire stock—it would naturally register as legitimate law enforcement.
But make no mistake: the Empire’s conduct was oppression.
‘Oppression that I myself set in motion.’
Zion had a duty to save them.
“I can’t just stand by and do nothing. Since this mess happened because of me, I should help clean it up. Call it fulfilling my obligation as a member of the Royal Family.”
“You say this happened because of the prince, sir?”
“Zion tried to assassinate me and was captured for it.”
My loyal subjects. My people.
Those wretched Deberts deserved a sentence in Zion’s style of labor.
“You dare defend the man who tried to kill me? Reizzo, hand over all the prisoners. I’ll pay the price. I’ll have them all in my grip and exploit them forever until my anger is sated.”
He delivered the words while performing a cruel laugh.
“How much did you say the farm was worth?”
Winter cut in quickly.
“10.5 million ruon, sir.”
Wait—this one had sworn he wouldn’t drop the price, and yet here he’d knocked off 1.5 million ruon? If I’d had more time, I could’ve shaved off millions more.
The extra time could have saved several million additional ruon.
“Your Highness, that is the farm’s value alone. If you take away all the slaves—the prisoners, rather—the increased labor costs would be ruinous for me. While I am a subject of the Empire and can provide His Highness with anything, my identity is fundamentally that of a businessman, and I beg your understanding…”
Watching Manager Reizzo prattle on, I cut him off flat.
“Never mind. I’ll pay the full 12 million.”
The longer negotiations dragged on, the longer the Deberts would suffer.
I wanted to take them quickly, even if it meant paying well above what we’d discussed.
“I need time to figure out how to torment those prisoners, so why don’t you head out, Reizzo.”
“Your Highness. That is…!”
“Silence! How dare you try to defend those who followed a man who attempted my murder!”
Defend? No—he’d been about to argue that losing all the prisoners would make cutting labor costs impossible.
But.
When Reizzo’s eyes met the prince’s, he instantly had a change of heart.
‘Human eyes can turn that cold. Truly the Empire’s worst scum….’
Goosebumps rose across Reizzo’s entire body.
With a prince prone to violent outbursts and vicious by nature, to cross him meant certain blowback.
It seemed he’d have to swallow some losses and call it a donation.
* * *
After further negotiation between Reizzo and Winter, it was decided that payment would be made in full on a date designated by Reizzo—approximately one month later.
The terms were set for speed and clean resolution.
……Though now, looking back, it was a condition that gave some cause for worry.
‘Damn. Where am I supposed to come up with 12 million ruon?’
Clack. Clack.
‘No matter how I think about it, there’s no way the money appears. And expecting Winter to scrape together 7 million ruon would be asking too much.’
If worst came to worst, I could always renege. Still, for the sake of the prince’s dignity, it would look better to pay the full lump sum with a generous hand.
What am I really going to do?
Clack. Clack.
– This station is Teragarth Central Station. Teragarth Central Station.
At the announcement, I rose to my feet. I made my way out through the narrow corridor and turned around.
A serpent of steel stretched for hundreds of meters ahead.
A Mage Train. One of the new age’s wonders.
The harbinger of the revolution in mass transport.
‘Another two days of travel before I reach the farm.’
I pulled the hood down deep over my head. Black hair swayed across my eyes.
Zion was currently disguised through magic, his appearance altered.
There was only one reason: to go to the farm alone and investigate why the Guide Ring had reacted.
“Quere Stellam Orbita. Rise and surge forth. Hide and conceal.”
I used magic to evade the sight of others.
A body turned translucent. Movement that could only be called flight.
Though Zion carried the bloodline of Riobert rather than Blije, he was recovering his magical prowess with startling speed.
The Guide Ring had granted its function, and layer upon layer of unforeseen fortune had compounded in his favor.
‘Still, it will take at least several years to restore everything fully.’
Day after day, when his magical power ran dry mid-flight through the sky, he would hitch rides from passing automobiles or carriages.
He arrived at a farm located on the outskirts of Teragarth.
[Teragarth Farm]
A weathered signboard. The name felt carelessly chosen.
There seemed to be dozens of farms bearing the same name across the region.
“Well then. Shall I have a look?”
The ring had reacted, but he couldn’t even determine whether what it sensed was a person or an object—finding it in a single visit would be impossible.
He decided to return whenever he had time to spare, conducting a thorough search gradually.
For today, just a brief taste over the next couple of days… wait.
‘…a scene!’
The same phenomenon as when the ring had reacted to Winter and shown him Marquis Lemicognin.
A peculiar scene flickered before his eyes, then vanished in an instant.
As if it had been deleted before he was granted full access.
Yet he hadn’t missed the most crucial part.
「……. ……. ……mac……. …….」
Though it lasted barely a heartbeat, he distinctly heard someone’s voice, fragmented though it was.
A middle-aged face cast in shadow. Lips moving, reciting a single phrase.
“……mac? Could it be?”
Heat flooded his chest.
Black and translucent mana fragments, resembling raven feathers, swirled through the air.
Whoosh!
“Quere Stellam Orbita.”
He veiled his sight—concealing the earth’s sand that responded to the Royal Bloodline’s power, hiding its movements.
In that instant, the Guide Ring vibrated once more.
‘Our Debert was, from ancient times, renowned for its abundance of gold.’
Though the terrain wasn’t particularly rich in ore veins generally, it possessed an oddly disproportionate concentration of gold seams.
This very fact had formed the foundation for Debert’s reputation as a nation of magic.
Gold was the quintessential magical catalyst, after all.
In any case, in ages past, Debert had often discovered gold mines only to leave them undeveloped, controlling extraction carefully.
To prevent unauthorized mining, information about such discoveries had been kept strictly within the royal household.
‘That is why the throne had been forced to wage a constant struggle to keep such knowledge from falling into the Empire’s hands.’
Even after the occupation, the Empire had maintained Debert’s royal line for some time.
A pretext to seem legitimate, but truly a reprieve to plunder the hidden legacy of the crown.
Perhaps one fragment of that legacy lay buried here.
He opened his eyes wide and reached out his hand.
His own mana was insufficient. He required the aid of an artifact.
“Quere Stellam Orbita. Come to me, Pole Star Staff.”
In that moment within the Imperial Archive, through the connection engraved by the artifact’s function, mana flowed across the bond.
Swooooosh!
A massive surge of power. Yet there was no risk of detection.
The function granted by Yeset—the Void Attribute.
Zion’s mana could not be sensed by anything whatsoever.
Raven feathers converged and interfered with space itself.
Though he couldn’t yet twist space through his own strength, it was sufficient to send a signal to the artifact beyond the veil.
A familiar sensation.
The Pole Star Staff, the magical scepter only the king of Debert could wield, materialized in Zion’s grasp.
“As the rightful heir Zion Blije commands, O earth.”
The Concealment Barrier placed by the royal house in ages past dissolved.
Crack, crack—the ground began to convulse.
“Rise forth and reveal yourself.”
Earth could not wave like water.
Yet the ground swelled and undulated as though it were the surface of the sea.
It heaved, laboring to expel something from its depths.
‘That is…’
A single object emerged into view.
Brilliant. Blindingly luminous.
A stone held in his hand—yet far too precious to be called merely a stone.
It was Gold Ore, gleaming brilliantly in pure golden light.
“…Gold. There really is gold here.”
Teragarth lies to the south of Seiel.
It was nowhere near the northern region where the gold veins concentrated—far from it.
Which meant it could remain hidden and undisturbed.
Because it was wasteland where nothing had ever been extracted, not a single fool existed mad enough to spend a fortune prospecting for veins here.
‘Even I didn’t know. It’s only natural I couldn’t have suspected.’
“This way, Reizzo lived his entire life walking atop a gold vein without ever knowing it existed.”
He was about to break into delighted laughter.
The ripple of magical power crackled and hissed, beginning to resonate with something.
“Hm?”
Simultaneously, a voice reached his ears. A scene materialized before his eyes.
“Aristh. I pray this letter reaches you. That it reaches my son, who escaped with you.”
“Father.”
A dim office. A beloved face.
His father stood fingering the ring, lost in thought.
Late King Exon the Thirteenth.
“Zion, my son. Forgive me. Forgive a father without virtue, a king without competence. The burden I place upon your shoulders is indeed heavy.”
Pain etched itself across that beloved face.
The epitome of incompetence. A puppet king. Yet despite such treatment, he had done all he could to preserve the Royal Bloodline’s legacy.
Most of it had been stripped away, but the inheritance he managed to protect flowed now from his father’s lips.
A gold vein that even Zion himself, direct heir to the throne, had never known of—preserved in absolute secrecy, intact until this very moment.
“If only it could reach you.”
His father continued to turn the Guide Ring upon his finger.
“The third largest gold vein across all of Debert lies beneath Teragarth.”
Strength drained from Zion’s hands.
The Gold Ore slipped from his grip and fell to the earth.
“Zion. My son. I beg you with all my heart.”
“Let my final struggle become your strength.”

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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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