The Scoundrel Prince Sold Out the Empire - Chapter 35

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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 35: The Royal Among Socialites (11)
Somewhere beneath the Gizcal Wasteland, in damp earth, lay a subterranean chamber.
A place where light did not reach.
The sound of water dripping down the stone wall. Six-Layered Seal Formation carved into the center of the sealed room.
Above it, a staff gleaming with silver light floated quietly in place.
……
In silence, Aristh gazed endlessly at the Pole Star Staff.
The royal family’s Sacred Artifact had vanished twice and returned twice.
And now it hovered in its proper place as though nothing had happened.
It would have been less terrifying had it simply remained gone.
“Vice-Commander. Chairman Kinkuon has arrived.”
“Has it been that long already?”
Aristh emerged from the Seal Chamber for the first time in what felt like ages.
At the end of the corridor, beneath the lantern’s glow, Kinkuon seemed somehow smaller than before.
‘Even the tallest men grow smaller as they age.’
In any case, Kinkuon was officially someone who could never set foot in such a place.
The Republican Council, on the surface, had to be the enemy of the Liberation Army.
That the Council’s leader himself had walked into a rebel stronghold where most were on wanted lists—the very weight of this crisis was contained in that fact.
Kinkuon opened his eyes wide before offering any greeting.
“Your face is quite worn, sir.”
“I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Aristh smiled awkwardly and rubbed his rough cheek.
It was understandable enough. The Pole Star Staff, barely recovered, had vanished and returned not once but twice of its own accord.
During those two nights, the Liberation Army’s hideout had buzzed like an overturned hornet’s nest.
“If they’ve come this far, it seems sleep eludes them as well.”
“I’ve heard it was the second time. Twice means it’s no accident.”
Instead of answering, Aristh led Kinkuon into the Seal Chamber.
Above the Six-Layered Seal Formation, the silver staff floated serenely, as though nothing whatsoever had occurred.
Kinkuon reached out as if entranced, then withdrew his hand before the seal.
“The door has never been opened. The sentries didn’t sleep, and the magic circle shows no damage.”
Reianna continued the report in a grave voice.
“There was no deviation whatsoever in the seal. Not a trace of human touch anywhere. It’s as though……”
“As though?”
“The Pole Star Staff walked out on its own two feet and came back.”
Kinkuon’s lined eyelids trembled slightly.
“You’re saying it has a Homing Ability……”
“That’s what it looks like.”
Aristh nodded gravely.
“If the Sacred Artifact moved of its own accord, there’s only one answer. It must be the work of someone who carries royal blood.”
Since Zion Blize was currently the sole surviving member of the Deber Royal Family, this should have been welcome news.
But.
The air in the sealed chamber grew heavier still.
Reianna spoke carefully.
“Then…… the Crown Prince? Could he have escaped?”
“Nonsense.”
Aristh cut her off sharply.
“If he’d escaped, he would have sought us out first.”
It was sound reasoning.
“Then there’s another member of the royal family living somewhere that we don’t know of?”
“I don’t know.”
The third time he’d given that same answer.
“Which is why we need to find out. If only so we can sleep soundly.”
Aristh withdrew a small, folded scrap of paper from his breast.
It was wrapped twice over in oiled cloth.
“I mean to tie this firmly to the staff’s grip. When it’s summoned again and vanishes next time, this will follow along with it.”
“To reach the summoner.”
“A sound strategy. Whoever or whatever they are, there will be someone on the other end to read it.”
Kinkuon asked his next question.
“What have you written on the note?”
“With great courtesy.”
“Pardon?”
“Tell him I’m grateful for its return. And that next time, I’d appreciate some advance notice. And…… that I hope to see his face once more.”
“…….”
Kinkuon drew a hand across his face.
“Of course. It’s only right. After all, he recovered the Sacred Artifact that doubles as the Imperial Seal and returned it to us. Even if…… he couldn’t secure a loan through the Pole Star Staff.”
This was also the reason Kinkuon had come to the hideout in person.
“There is one more matter I must discuss with you.”
“Speak freely.”
“It’s a question of money.”
The air in the chamber grew heavy with a different sort of tension.
Aristh regarded Kinkuon with a look of disbelief, and Kinkuon’s eyes slid downward.
“The Parliament Building’s debt from before has disappeared, thanks to a certain generous benefactor…… but erasing debt isn’t the same as filling the coffers, is it?”
“……True enough.”
“I know it’s ungraceful to speak of such things. But if a small nation is to catch the eye of a great power, it must offer tribute. And we’ve lost our nation entirely. There are expenses mounting on every side.”
Kinkuon pressed his aged hand to his brow.
“We have no money. No money at all. My apologies, sir…….”
The Republican Council, in its day, had been more active than any other independence faction.
It had been the very face representing all of Deber’s resistance movements.
But now it struggled in every conceivable way.
Greatly so.
“The world has changed so much. And it keeps changing faster still.”
It had become an age where nothing could be done without money.
And the Republican Council, being both the representative face of everyone and an official body, could not easily earn funds.
The Empire was even imposing Economic Sanctions with the deliberate aim of crushing the Republican Council.
“…….”
After a long silence, Aristh spoke.
“From now on, I’ll have to ration the candles.”
Pfft.
His breath snuffed out the flame.
It was in moments like this that exhaustion felt particularly acute.
“Vice Commander! Urgent news!”
One of the officers burst in with a grave expression, and at the words that spilled from his lips, all faces hardened at once.
“Send personnel to Deber at once! This instant!”
* * *
After finishing his conversation with Winter on the White Sand Beach.
Zion brushed dust from his collar and turned his steps back toward the Banquet Hall.
It wouldn’t do for the host to linger away too long.
……Though that was only half the excuse; the truth was it was time to coax and cajole the elves into helping him realize that clever idea he’d conceived just moments before.
The elf father and daughter who had come from the Elpia Federation.
Smarag Eldirhi and his daughter, Nocsirruna.
“I trust I haven’t been away overlong? Ha ha.”
One cannot spit in the face of a smile. Zion approached with a warm grin, doing his best to project familiarity.
“We’re merely grateful for the leisure to enjoy the banquet.”
Smarag too received him with a smile.
At his side stood a silver-haired girl, her face as expressionless as a doll’s.
“I heard from Nocsirruna. That you wish——”
The smile slipped away.
“Nocsirruna? You mean ‘Lady’ Nocsirruna, Your Highness.”
“…….”
The formal address had vanished into thin air.
‘A man who can’t resist flattering his daughter,’ Zion thought.
“Ahem. I heard from Lady Nocsirruna.”
Smarag’s smile returned.
So smoothly that the stern expression from moments before seemed never to have existed at all.
‘Sharp as a blade.’
“She mentioned that the envoy wishes to meet with Zion Blize.”
“It is regrettable, Your Highness, but yes——it is so.”
Zion nearly laughed aloud.
Zion Blize was known as the man who had tried to kill Zion Riobelt and been captured for it.
So this elf was now dropping the name of the man who had sought the prince’s life, gauging how the prince would take it.
‘Not at all.’
A welcome misunderstanding.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Zion Riobelt tapped the rim of his glass with one finger.
“You won’t find cause for regret. If anything, I’m the one who’s disappointed. You won’t be able to meet Zion Blize.”
Nocsirruna raised her hand slightly.
“I won’t meet him?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“I see.”
“What do you mean? Surely you’re not saying you’ll interfere.”
“Interfere? No. It will simply become physically impossible. Zion Blize is to be executed shortly.”
Smarag Eldirhi’s eyes widened slightly.
“The execution will take place in the Imperial Capital. A symbolic ceremony — putting an enemy of the Empire before the Empire’s heart.”
Zion Riobelt then outlined the particulars of the matter.
That custody of the prisoner fell under the Third Prince’s purview. That the execution would be conducted with great ceremony as a public example.
He selected only what he was permitted to say, presenting it all in the most favorable light for his own side.
……
Smarag Eldirhi fell silent after hearing the explanation.
Hurry and the price falls. Zion Riobelt took a sip from his glass instead of pressing further.
“Your Highness.”
At last Smarag Eldirhi broke the silence.
“It seems a solution might be within reach.”
He’d taken the bait. Zion swallowed his triumph and arranged his expression into one of reluctant difficulty.
“It’s not that there’s no way. You’re not trying to stop the execution itself anyway, are you?”
“To be honest, that is precisely what we intend.”
Not merely wanting to stop it — stopping it was already decided.
“In that case, it seems we might join hands after all.”
“Pardon? Your Highness couldn’t possibly intend to prevent the execution.”
“Ah, that’s right. I want to see that bastard’s death with my own eyes.”
A pretext utterly befitting Zion Riobelt.
“For that to happen, the execution must be held in Deber. If that’s the case, wouldn’t you also draw one step closer to your objective? We can walk together for the middle stretch, is all.”
Nocsirruna raised her hand again.
“If he’s executed, our plans crumble. Please stop it.”
“I refuse.”
“Please stop it.”
“I see what you’re doing.”
“Fascinating, aren’t we.”
“How so?”
“Here and there.”
“I’d like to hear details.”
“I’ll withhold a full answer on that point.”
He laughed quietly. There was something about Nocsirruna’s manner of speech that disarmed him, made him laugh despite himself.
“Councilor, what’s to be done? If you’ll serve as my pretext, I can arrange to have the execution moved to Deber.”
“We need proof that Your Highness can move the Third Prince.”
Moving the site of the execution meant moving the Third Prince himself.
The Third Prince was known as one of the Empire’s coldest hearts. Considering the standing and reputation of the Ninth Prince, one had to assess just how possible such a thing truly was.
‘Proof… how am I supposed to show that right now, you clever elf.’
“Zion Riobelt. That is my name. Do you find it insufficient?”
“I regret to say that I do.”
An elaborate failure of the bluff-and-bluster strategy.
Tch. This sort of verbal sparring — this kind of word game — was precisely what he despised.
‘How do I talk my way out of this?’
It was in that moment of deliberation.
“Your Highness! Your Highness!”
It was Winter.
Approaching at the fastest pace one could achieve while still appearing to walk.
“A letter has arrived from the Third Prince.”
……!
……!
……!
Every ear in the room pricked up at once.
Heads turned. All eyes fixed on him with sudden attention.
“My apologies for the disruption, Your Highness. I judged it best to deliver this with urgency.”
Winter bowed with an apologetic expression, yet angled his body subtly as he straightened.
The sealed letter faced left toward the guest of honor, right toward the nobles, and most importantly, straight toward Smarag Eldirhi.
‘Perfect timing. Look at him work. That man’s got nerve—I have to admire it.’
“Enough. We can’t keep my brother waiting. Well done.”
He spoke deliberately loud enough for all to hear, then held up the letter he’d received, his gaze settling on Smarag.
“Is this sufficient, Counselor?”
“…Yes. Your bond with your brother runs remarkably deep.”
Contrary to expectation.
Those words Smarag swallowed back—Zion could sense them.
“Forgive me for a moment.”
Using the inspection of the letter as pretense, he excused himself to a secluded table with Winter.
Eyes followed his every step.
So this is what it feels like, commanding such attention.
Not unpleasant, either.
“Brilliant work, Winter. Heh.”
He clapped the man on the shoulder and continued.
“To think you brought the earlier letter along. Your foresight deserves credit—and your timing pulling it out was flawless.”
“Sir?”
Winter’s brows drew together.
“I only just received it.”
“What?”
“The letter, sir.”
“…You didn’t have it already?”
“It arrived moments ago via urgent dispatch through the communications office. Truly from the Third Prince.”
Zion looked down at the letter in his palm.
Now that he examined it, the seal remained intact.
Unopened. Fresh.
What had been a convincing prop mere moments ago was now genuine—its contents unknown, resting in his hand.
From the Third Prince. Now of all times. For what purpose.
“…What?”

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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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