The Scoundrel Prince Sold Out the Empire - Chapter 45

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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 45: His Return (8)
“You little bastards nearly got me killed!!”
The torrents of profanity pouring from the blood-shot eyes of the fair-haired Divine Race prince delivered overwhelming terror all by itself.
No one present felt the slightest impulse to remark that a noble of such distinguished station was uttering vulgar speech—that it lacked all dignity, that it was beneath his station, or anything of that sort.
How could they?
Their heads were about to roll.
Someone managed to squeeze out a chant, belatedly.
“Glory to the illustrious bloodline!”
“The subjects of the empire greet a member of the Divine Race!”
“Glory to the Sun!”
“The subjects of the empire greet a member of the Divine Race……!”
“Illustrious? Illustrious, you say? Then I understand perfectly well what atrocities you’ve committed! How dare you launch a terrorist attack on the very dwelling place of the Divine Race!”
An operation to capture the terrorists had been transformed, instead, into an act of terrorism itself.
Not a thread of his clothing was disturbed—far too pristine for someone who’d suffered a terrorist attack—but no one possessed the courage to point out such trivial contradictions.
Not after unleashing a barrage of shells upon the divine personage.
‘Excellent. A very fine tableau indeed.’
Zion Riobelt burst forth from the place where Zion Blije had been hiding.
Soul Form Magic had failed to restore the mana pattern, leaving him to orchestrate this farce.
From the beginning, there was no way to stop all the members of the Liberation Fraternity from approaching the execution platform itself, so he’d deployed Zion Blije—and staking his life, he’d had to sabotage the ceremony altogether.
Yet now, a thought was creeping through his mind—that this was turning out better than expected.
‘At this rate, I could stage an absolute circus and commit every manner of folly, and they’d swallow it all whole.’
Once again, he realized he hadn’t truly grasped just how much value the title of Divine Race prince still commanded.
Or rather—one could make mistakes in an operation to capture terrorists, so why were they trembling in such fear?
‘……Am I perhaps being too rational? In any case, they’re all looking only at me. Perfect.’
Then it happened.
A field commander approached and dropped to one knee.
“Your Highness. I give thanks to the gods for your safety!”
By his insignia, a lieutenant colonel. By the fact that he knelt, a commoner.
Judging by his face, to reach lieutenant colonel at that age meant much had been sacrificed to those above.
In other words, much had been squeezed from those below.
“Your Highness has many grievances against Zion Blije, I understand. This occurred during the pursuit of the criminal Zion Blije, history’s worst offender, and given the urgency of capturing him, I humbly implore your cooperation…….”
Bang!
His words never reached an ending.
Zion strode forward and drew a portable gun from the waistband of a nearby soldier, then fired point-blank.
These men had leveled entire buildings—they carried an abundance of firepower.
Thud.
After casting a cold glance at the collapsed lieutenant colonel, he roared once more.
“Come forward at once! Who dared command that artillery and bullets be directed at this prince!”
Not a soul stepped forward.
They couldn’t have.
He’d just died.
Zion had already identified the commanding officer through Clairvoyance Magic, and when the man came forward, he’d seized the moment and ended him.
To deepen the chaos.
“And I notice none of you have yet laid down your weapons?”
This came right after the entire military force had encircled the Casino building and opened fire.
That meant the vast majority of their guns were still trained upon Zion.
Click, click-clack.
Rifles and cannons began hitting the ground one by one.
These were men of considerable value, so the disarming took a good while.
Each passing second was precious time for the Liberation Fraternity’s members to slip away.
‘I won’t let you do a thing, you wretches.’
Ah, and now fresh military footsteps were pouring in from that direction.
Another military unit was arriving.
A different uniform color than the Army soldiers filling the avenue. The Navy?
He’d cow them into submission and finish the disarming, then put the screws to them.
It was while these thoughts occupied him that it happened.
“Glory to the Sun. The subjects of the empire greet a member of the Divine Race.”
The naval forces that had arrived filed to either side, and from between them strode a single officer, offering a bow of respect.
Amid soldiers with tan or straw-colored hair, a head of dark ash-grey stood out distinctly.
‘Not kneeling.’
In present-day Deber, there is only one class of noble-born Deberians.
Traitors to the realm, or their descendants.
“State your name and rank.”
“Commander McAlister Remiconen, attached to the Golden Fleet’s Second Warship, dispatched from the Ainczen Naval Headquarters.”
Zion’s eyes narrowed.
Remiconen. Interesting.
Here stood the son of a man who had sold his nation and risen to the rank of marquess, dressed now in the imperial uniform and positioned directly before him.
‘By appearance alone, I’d never have guessed. Is he truly that marquess’s son?’
“Your Highness. Might I speak a word?”
His voice was steady.
No anxious tremor, no ingratiating slickness.
Quite different from that Army Military Police commander we met moments ago.
Which made it all the more peculiar.
How could the son of Marquess Remiconen possibly be well-mannered?
Unless—like Winter—he had a different father. Well.
That’s as far as I’ll speculate.
“Go on.”
“That I endangered Your Highness’s person admits no excuse—it is unforgivable rudeness. Whatever punishment befalls me in time, I shall accept it gladly.”
“Good. It’s reassuring to see you prepared.”
“However.”
McAlister continued without raising his head.
“My unit was engaged in the performance of imperial duty. Your Highness, more than anyone, dedicates yourself to the Empire’s glory—you stand at the highest station as a servant of the realm itself. Before such a mission, rudeness of this sort ought surely to be forgiven by one who holds the Empire’s interests above all else. To you, Your Highness, all of this is surely trifling compared to those greater imperial concerns. I shall accept whatever penalty is due for this rudeness once the search concludes. I humbly ask for your cooperation, Your Highness.”
Zion fell silent for a moment.
‘Well. That actually makes sense.’
It was troublesome.
His words were measured, yet contained not a single point of retreat.
The skill with which he wrapped his request for the prince’s cooperation in the silk of imperial interest was remarkable.
Any objection Zion raised would only make himself appear to be trampling the very interests of the realm.
‘If I argue back, he’ll catch me in my own words. If I stay silent, I seem to consent. How did he know I’m vulnerable to a well-reasoned argument?’
Not that there were no ways through this.
When dealing with a man who spoke well, one simply had to pit another silver tongue against him.
“Winter! Winter!”
Though Zion had not brought Winter to the Casino, enough time had passed that he would certainly be watching from nearby.
Likely waiting for the summons, or else observing for the right moment to intervene.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Winter appeared at once, just as expected.
“That insolent fool dares to wag his tongue before the prince. You handle him.”
“I shall obey.”
Winter paused briefly to note McAlister Remiconen’s insignia, then unleashed a barrage of methodical counterargument.
“I am Winter Flowering, the prince’s aide. I must first inform you that the military has committed acts falling under multiple charges: Attempted Assault on a Divine Being, Desecration of the Divine Race, and violation of duty to protect critical personnel under military order.”
“Aide Flowering. No one knew His Highness was present there. Attempted Assault? That would be negligent homicide at most.”
“This morning, a military order was issued to all units specifying the prince’s location. The bombardment proceeded nonetheless. You may verify this. Thus, it was not mere negligent homicide, but Attempted Assault on a Divine Being with Indirect Intent—a far graver matter.”
As it happened, the Empire’s laws held one thing in common: the moment the word “Divine Being” attached itself to any charge, the penalties multiplied severalfold.
‘This erudite fool. Does he have all this memorized?’
It wasn’t common knowledge, that much was certain.
Likely he had absorbed it all into his head since becoming aide.
“Therefore, I formally lodge a complaint against the military on behalf of the prince. Who shall accept the charges?”
As Winter’s gaze swept the room, every eye averted.
It was rather like the old saying—avoiding the matter as if the wind itself had hidden it from view.
Well, it was only natural.
A charge brought by the prince? If one lost the case, one’s head would roll. Who would volunteer for such a thing?
‘At this rate, I could stretch this out for the entire day.’
But then McAlister stepped forward.
“I shall accept them.”
“Commander, you appear to have only just arrived.”
“From this moment, I assume command of the scene. I shall accept responsibility for the military’s error here as well.”
“Even the charge of Attempted Regicide?”
“Yes.”
“Your head may well be forfeit.”
“I am aware.”
Winter regarded McAlister with an impassive gaze, and McAlister met it with unflappable composure.
The two brothers, one of whom had always known the other’s true identity, locked eyes in silence.
“McAlister Lemiconing. Your father must feel quite assured, Colonel.”
McAlister’s face hardened at Winter’s mockery.
“I merely fulfill my duty. And you seem fortunate as well to have someone to serve.”
From his reaction, it was clear he’d struck a nerve.
Hmm. Dragging this out would work best, but since his opponent was Winter’s half-brother, the situation felt slightly uncomfortable.
‘Well, there are other ways to buy time anyway.’
“Fulfill my duty, indeed!”
Zion shoved Winter’s shoulder aside and continued speaking.
“Colonel, what is your duty? To capture Zion Blize?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Then there’s no need to stand about here. Withdraw. Go wait for the indictment.”
A question flickered across McAlister’s face, and Zion twisted his lips into a smile.
“Crown Prince, I’ve already captured him.”
“Did I mishear?”
“I’m telling you—I’ve already killed him. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Winter! Go inside and fetch the corpse!”
The Execution Platform was the first place Zion had attacked upon materializing at the execution grounds.
Had he ambushed the viewing platform the moment he appeared?
He could have inflicted considerable casualties.
Well, most of the nobility would have been wearing personal magical artifacts for protection, so he might have ended up wasting strength on a futile gesture.
But if he’d singled out one or two with a precise strike, he could have killed them for certain.
‘I killed a governor the same way before.’
However, there were two reasons he hadn’t done so.
First, Smaragd and Nok Siruna were in the viewing platform.
Especially thanks to the necklace Nok Siruna had given him, he’d been able to perfect Soul Form Magic—a technique bordering on the miraculous.
He couldn’t repay such kindness with terror.
‘And the second reason.’
“Winter! Why are you taking so long!”
“I’m coming, Your Highness.”
That reason was for this very moment.
‘Now. The grand reveal.’
Soon after, Winter emerged dragging a charred corpse.
Beneath hair blackened by flame, the face was crushed nearly beyond recognition, and the ash-gray robes had burned away entirely, exposing what lay within.
That is—Zion Blize.
Thud.
The corpse fell at McAlister’s feet.
Every soldier’s jaw hung slack.
“Do you see?”
“……Is this truly Zion Blize?”
“Can’t you tell by looking?”
Zion threw his arms wide open.
“The Empire’s most heinous criminal, Zion Blize, is dead. I have personally executed him and thereby relieved the realm of its greatest burden!”
The death of Zion Blize, disguised using a false corpse.
Beyond that.
Monopolizing the achievement of eliminating the Empire’s worst criminal under the name Zion Riobelt.
This was the climax of the elaborate performance he had orchestrated.
“Ha, ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha!”

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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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