The Scoundrel Prince Sold Out the Empire - Chapter 5

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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 5: Gaining the Void Attribute (1)
The 3rd Imperial Prince was counted among the most ruthless and merciless of the Empire’s princes.
A hawk, a hardliner. A militarist and imperialist who advocated for national prosperity through conquest as a means of wealth circulation.
Which made the current situation all the more unexpected.
He’d caused a scandal, and yet received praise for it?
‘I was even prepared to blow up alongside the 3rd Imperial Prince if things went wrong.’
He’d avenged the late king, so there was nothing to regret; crushing the radical faction’s vanguard would benefit Deber—or so he’d reasoned through this final gambit. A gambit that proved utterly worthless.
It was good for nothing at all.
‘Actually, this is better. He’s saying I did well, isn’t he? Then surely he’s obliged to offer some reward?’
He was casting sidelong glances at the 3rd Imperial Prince, calculating what he might extract, when—
“Gabel brought this calamity upon himself through overwork, and he’ll be sent away for convalescence. Your reckless actions lit the fuse, yes, but the root cause was exhaustion. Since your misguided behavior destroyed the 1st Imperial Prince’s hand, I’ll overlook this much.”
“Your Highness, I’m honored by your praise. To think I’ve accomplished something—I’m truly delighted. Haha.”
“Accomplished? You did.”
The 3rd Imperial Prince rolled only his eyes, turning his gaze toward him.
A pathetic younger brother. A disgrace to the bloodline. A worthless fool not worth addressing. Something like that was written all over his face.
‘He’s not treating me even as a fellow human, let alone as a brother.’
“Have you forgotten?”
“Pardon?”
“There is nothing more meaningless than mere words. I’m reminded of this every time I look at you.”
So it seemed that when Zion Riobert apologized, he paired the words with some action.
Surely not?
“After committing the deed, I… I was seized by fear and distracted, Your Highness.”
He dropped to his knees. Only then did the 3rd Imperial Prince avert his gaze.
So that was it. Every time he’d apologized to the Old Butler, he’d been made to kneel and prostrate himself—it had all been the 3rd Imperial Prince’s doing.
‘Perhaps Zion Riobert was his masterpiece all along.’
The 3rd Imperial Prince, Garon Riobert. Far more dangerous than he’d initially thought.
“Now that I’ve called you here, I have something to ask. Why did you go to the Prison?”
He was asking why he’d gone to see Zion Blizé—the original self.
‘To kill me. He nearly succeeded, but in the end, I stole his body instead.’
The reason for the question was surely that Zion Blizé had disappeared.
There was no way he could suspect involvement in Grand Magic of treasonous caliber; it would be assumed as an escape.
“I went to kill him… since the man who tried to assassinate me was still alive…”
“Anything else? Hmm, never mind. It’s beyond your capacity anyway.”
It seemed the 3rd Imperial Prince had meant to probe deeper into Zion Blizé’s escape.
But he’d abandoned the idea—why bother questioning a worthless fool?
Ever since his time as Duke Pael, he’d felt it: living as a worthless fool had an unmatched comfort to it.
A kind of advantage, in its own way.
“Now get out. Consider yourself fortunate this time, and reflect on it. If you cause another incident like this without permission, the Imperial Prince himself will impose ‘punishment.’ A house arrest sentence will be handed down in three days—bear that in mind.”
The matter seemed concluded. Yet that final remark rankled.
“Your Highness? A house arrest sentence…?”
He’d said he’d done well.
Then surely no reward was necessary, but punishment? Come now.
“Didn’t I do something right?”
“You did do right.”
“Then why…?”
“The house arrest sentence is issued in accordance with Imperial Law.”
Damn.
He’d realized the strengths this body possessed; he’d planned to move freely and live unfettered, but house arrest?
Not a prison, technically, but confined nonetheless—trapped without the freedom to so much as budge?
“If I may ask… how long is the sentence?”
“Roughly three years.”
He decided then and there.
Three days until sentencing?
He couldn’t possibly wait placidly for his brother to pronounce judgment.
* * *
House arrest for three years.
In truth, it was not a harsh sentence. Rather, it seemed far too lenient.
To render a single man—a grand duke, no less—into a vegetative state, and receive only three years of house arrest?
‘The Empire has always sanctified and idolized the Imperial bloodline as Divine Beings, which I knew well enough. But I didn’t know that even the Empire’s most abject failure could live untouchable within that sacred circle.’
Duke Gabel’s household was probably weeping blood and pounding the earth by now.
Whatever. Not my concern.
‘I can’t be locked away for three years. Absolutely not.’
Lying on an ornate, lavish bed, I tossed a Magic Stone toward the ceiling and caught it repeatedly.
For the record, I’d quietly pocketed one from the Security Magical Device installed in my quarters.
“All right, I’ve made my decision. I’m going to take an Exile Sentence instead.”
Banishment from the Imperial Capital. Preferably exile to Deber.
Despite being a Divine Being, I wanted to become the only Imperial Prince living in a colony after committing such a grave offense that I’d warrant banishment.
‘I need a clever scheme to aggravate the sentence rather than reduce it. It’s almost laughable that I’m looking for a way to make it worse instead of lighter.’
Since I was naturally resourceful, I’d need to put my mind to work and think of something.
“Since I’m already under House Arrest, have you actually gone into a vault, Gabel?”
…I was just joking to myself, but now that I think about it, it sounds oddly plausible.
And conveniently, there’s something I’ve been wanting to steal.
Or rather—something I want to reclaim.
“Hehehehe. The Imperial Treasury Vault is still a vault, after all. Yes indeed.”
Just thinking about it fills me with delight. It’s simply thrilling.
How do I put it—it’s exhilarating, a taste of real living.
Is it because I’ve inherited this body and can do whatever I please, utterly unbound?
Laughter comes unbidden. My lips twist into a cruel smile, a habit of this form.
‘Zion Riobert. The indulgence you’ve enjoyed—I’ll savor it in your stead!’
How grateful I am, you fool.
Thanks to you, I’ll get to see the Imperial Palace vaults, reclaim my stolen kingdom’s legacy, and enjoy every pleasure along the way.
“Wait, does that make my treason against Ritania into patriotism toward Deber? Hehehehe.”
Well then, shall we go?
Time to see the Emperor’s treasury.
* * *
The next day, Zion moved to execute his plan immediately.
“Old Butler. Prepare the car. We’re going to the Imperial Palace.”
The distance from my quarters to the Imperial Palace was roughly thirty minutes, but the automobile bearing the Imperial seal made quick work of it along the main road.
Still, I had no idea where the vault actually was.
“You there.”
I called over a palace guard standing nearby.
“A subject of the Empire greets a Divine Being. How may I serve you, Ninth Imperial Prince?”
A respectful tone, yet unconcealed disdain seeping through their expression.
It made me acutely aware of the notorious reputation this body had accumulated.
They probably already knew about yesterday’s assault incident.
‘But so what if they despise me?’
I’m an Imperial Prince, after all.
“I’m going to the Imperial Treasury Vault. Guide me there.”
“The Imperial Treasury Vault, Your Highness? Have you received authorization?”
“The direct lineage of the Imperial Family enters the Imperial Treasury, and you speak of permission? Are you truly attempting to obstruct this Prince’s will?”
When I scowled menacingly, the guard hesitantly asked a question.
“Might I inquire as to your purpose, sir?”
“I refuse to answer. Lead the way at once, or face punishment.”
Rather than waste time arguing with superiors, the guard silently fell into step ahead of me.
However, another guard who had been eavesdropping from nearby hurried off in a different direction.
They were likely going to report to their commander.
‘Can’t let that happen.’
“You there.”
The other guard, now distant, flinched and turned back, and Zion flashed a vicious grin.
“Both of you come with me. Oh, and turn off your communication devices.”
“…We obey Your Highness’s command.”
After about ten minutes of travel, the guard stopped.
“Your Highness. This entire palace complex is the Imperial Treasury Vault.”
Quite massive. I’d heard the great powers plundered treasures from here and there, but they certainly had accumulated quite the collection.
‘Including artifacts from our Deber.’
“Go have them open the door. I’ll enter immediately. Actually, you’re bound to cause trouble if left alone—I’d better do this myself.”
As I strode forward, four or five guards on security duty came into view. The guard who’d led me here ran ahead and began speaking frantically.
“Squad Captain, the Ninth Imperial Prince requests entry to the vault.”
So one of them held the rank of squad captain.
The vault security captain’s face immediately hardened.
“Your Highness. Forgive me, but without the explicit permission of His Most Gracious Majesty, no one—regardless of station—may enter the Treasury Vault.”
It was a reasonable objection, by any measure. The Emperor’s treasure vault wasn’t something one simply wandered into.
Even a son rummaging through his father’s coffers crossed a line.
Of course, this degenerate prince paid no such considerations the slightest mind.
Especially not when he’d come here intending to cause trouble.
“Grand Mage Zion Blizé—that country’s worst criminal—tried to assassinate me. I’m taking a few protective magical devices and leaving. Step aside.”
“Your Highness’s quarters are equipped with comprehensive security measures, as far as I’m aware.”
The guard captain had refused politely. Now came the threats.
“So you wish to see me assassinated, then? A traitor to the throne?”
The edge in his voice was unmistakable. The guard captain’s face went rigid.
“Th-that is certainly not my intention, Your Highness.”
“Yet here you are, harboring traitors within the palace walls.”
He seized the spear from the guard’s hands.
“If you don’t step aside, I’ll kill you and go through anyway.”
The threat from a human wretch. The captain’s expression made clear he believed every word of it.
‘Why is he so terrified? These palace guards are supposed to be elite. And yet he’s shaking.’
There was a reason, though the 9th Imperial Prince didn’t know it: he had actually killed guards before.
“…Very well, Your Highness. However… I must beg your pardon, but items in the Treasury Vault are strictly prohibited from removal. Additionally, I shall have no choice but to report this visit to my superiors, and I humbly ask for your mercy in that regard.”
The captain was buying time until he could fetch someone of sufficient rank to overrule this madness.
His logic was simple: whatever the prince grabbed, they could confiscate it on the way out.
“Fine. Do as you wish.”
The moment he stepped inside, the mission would be accomplished anyway.
Grrriiiick…!
The enormous iron doors swung open with a grinding mechanical roar.
From where he stood, he could see the thickness of the metal—easily a meter—and the intricate Mana Circuits inscribed across every surface.
‘Whew. This is no joke. Look at those circuits packed tight. No one in the world could’ve broken through this.’
But now—
He leaped.
That alone was enough.
Grrriiiick. Thud.
“Ha! To think I’d ever see the Imperial Treasury Vault of Ritania with my own eyes.”
Zion Blizé, even with all the power his frame contained, could not have lifted those doors.
Not as a Grand Mage, not in any capacity.
This was an age they called the Magical Engineering Revolution.
Unlike the past, the power individuals gained through cultivation could never surpass an advanced technological system.
‘If I’d even tried to break through with Magic Manifestation, the sensors would have triggered instantly. That’s what this era demands.’
Someone would likely arrive soon enough to stop the prince’s rampage.
But for now, there was time for a quick look around.
“Huh. I wonder what something like this is worth? Looks like a Kizkan artifact.”
Gold wherever he looked. Treasures everywhere.
The vault was scattered with Artifacts made entirely of the finest Magic Stones—each one worth dozens of times its weight in gold.
If he could sneak just one out and send it to the liberation army, it would fund operations for years.
Of course, they’d seize everything the moment he left the vault.
“All fruit painted on a wall. The royal treasures of Deber are… ah, over there.”
A section dedicated entirely to Deber’s relics.
The first thing that caught his eye was a dazzling staff.
A Sacred Treasure that only Deber’s kings could ever use—priceless beyond measure.
“The Northern Star Staff… I wish I could take it with me.”
If he channeled magic through that staff, its power would double at minimum. But…just as unreachable.
They’d confiscate it the moment he tried to leave.
So there was only one thing worth taking from this place.
“Ah, there it is.”
A weathered ring lay in a corner, wholly out of place.
‘The Ring of Guidance… stuffed away in a corner, just as I thought. At last, I’m reclaiming it.’
By wearing the Ring of Guidance, Deber’s king received the mantle of Sovereignty.
It was one of two Divine Relics, paired with the Northern Star Staff.
‘It shouldn’t be left to gather dust like this. But to the Empire, it’s probably just an old ring.’
The Ring of Guidance was an Artifact that granted enormous magical advantage to anyone born of Deber’s bloodline.
Perhaps that’s why the Imperial Family had stolen such a precious Artifact yet couldn’t use it—frustration at its uselessness.
“…The problem is, I’m in the same predicament.”
Since it was not a body of Blizé bloodline, the ring would likely not function.
His taste turned bitter.
‘The purpose was always to compound the crime of Treasury Vault intrusion with theft of the Emperor’s possessions. Still, it’s rather a shame.’
No — in truth, it was far more than a shame.
What if the finger wearing the ring had belonged not to Zion Riobert, but to Zion Blizé?
Then he could have wielded all of the ring’s power.
‘I’ll likely find myself in situations like this again and again.’
For instance, from now on, every person in Deber would regard him with eyes full of hatred.
Forever.
“…Quere Stellam Orbita.”
He recited the incantation for Magic Manifestation and slipped the ring onto his middle finger. This, at least, he could keep from being taken away once he departed.
“Come, O Fate. By rightful………….”
An incantation passed down only to those of the Imperial Family’s direct succession. Mana flowed, and the ring began to glow.
When the incantation concluded, the ring would lock onto his finger and would not slip off until death.
“To guide is to merit………….”
He could destroy it by cutting off the finger, but it seemed unlikely he would sever a Divine Being’s hand over a mere trinket shoved into a corner.
“Upon the one who walks before and lights the way…………”
He was continuing the incantation while lost in thought.
Then, abruptly, he understood.
The ring was glowing with an intensity that seemed wrong.
“Hm?”
It was at that very moment.
「The Third Clause of the Covenant now takes effect. Walk the Void.」
A solemn declaration echoing from the heavens.
The same voice he had heard when his body changed.
‘That voice is……?!’
“Ugh…!”
An involuntary moan escaped him.
A magical convulsion surged through his body from within.
It was a change violent yet silent.
‘The flow of mana… traces of Magic Manifestation…….’
A wave of shock, tidal and overwhelming, swept through flesh and mind alike.
Under the weight of encroaching realization, his hands began to tremble.
“Quere Stellam Orbita. Illuminate.”
Without warning, a small spark flickered forth.
…Silence.
He waited long, but nothing but stillness remained.
Though it was obvious there were at least a thousand magical detection sensors installed within the Treasury Vault.
His eyes burned hot.
He closed them.
‘I feel nothing.’
His mana had vanished.
No — erased would be the proper word.
‘The sensors cannot detect my mana either.’
A hundred years had passed since the Mage Engineering revolution.
An age that regarded magic as a symbol of obsolescence.
An age in which the name “mage” had devolved into a cheap joke.
‘I can now use magic without anyone knowing, without anything detecting it.’
A miracle he had never once imagined was now in Zion’s hands.

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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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