They Say an Age Gap Like This Doesn’t Even Need Matching - Chapter 7

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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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‘Utterly foolish.’
I gazed down indifferently at the trembling servant prostrate on the floor.
‘Is talent truly so scarce that we must entrust tasks to such incompetence?’
Or perhaps those in higher positions simply lacked discernment in judging character.
‘The Steward’s mental defenses were no better than this fool’s, so I can well imagine how he conducts his life.’
There existed those who prioritized their own safety and comfort above all else, making every other decision carelessly on a whim.
Only after disaster strikes do they display severity to evade responsibility.
As expected.
The Steward, who had been regarding Osman with contemptuous eyes, gestured to the soldiers waiting outside the door.
“You must understand, Osman, that the crime of attempting to harm a hostage is most grave.”
He emphasized that it would not end with merely shoving poisoned slop down his throat.
“We shall conduct a thorough investigation to determine whether this was an act of recklessness or if there exists a mastermind behind it.”
He spoke thus, conscious of me—a Bardia native who had become Elhart’s attendant.
It was a boundary he drew to signal his own innocence.
‘It seems there were no other conspirators involved, so I shall leave it at this.’
Having conducted a thorough investigation even employing demonic power, there was no possibility I had overlooked any mastermind.
“Take him away.”
“Yes, Steward!”
Osman, who had been trembling like a man nearly driven mad, was seized by the soldiers and dragged away.
“Gasp… spare me… please spare me…”
“A pitiful wretch indeed.”
The Steward clicked his tongue and muttered upon witnessing that sight.
“Separate from his punishment, that man must kneel before his master and beg forgiveness.”
“Of course he must.”
He spoke as though it were obvious.
The Steward’s shameless demeanor, as if he had fulfilled his role, was equally absurd.
But well, such people are easy to handle.
Having obtained a definitive answer, I nodded with satisfaction.
That servant Osman harbored a misconception.
He believed that I possessed decision-making authority.
The knight Hamel, who had likewise lost his life last night after committing violence against Elhart, was no different.
They exercised authority that no one had granted them, yet believed they were easing the burden of their superiors.
Authority flows downward from above; it is not something subordinates can simply seize for themselves.
It was truly an incomprehensible way of thinking.
Why would the Cradion Empire demand Elhart as a hostage?
Him, who had lost real power in Bardia and become a deposed crown prince.
‘They intend to make use of Elhart in future conquest wars.’
That gentle man alone had possessed such formidable military might that he had essentially protected a corrupt kingdom single-handedly.
‘The people of Bardia called him their guardian deity.’
For now, he is confined to isolate him, but once Bardia is completely subjugated to Cradion and the situation becomes irreversible, they will attempt to sway Elhart to their side.
‘Even if it means marrying into the imperial family.’
This was a method commonly employed even in the distant past when continental politics were in chaos.
From their perspective, it would be ideal if Elhart harbored resentment toward the country that abandoned me, but even if he didn’t, it hardly mattered.
They could use Bardia’s people as hostages and work them to exhaustion.
Even I, having spent merely a single day in this place, could discern such circumstances.
Osman, however, failed to grasp the true intentions of those above him and overstepped his bounds.
If he had merely offered insult, it might have been overlooked, but since he attempted to harm Elhart of his own accord, there was no way this would pass without consequence.
For the sake of setting an example, harsh punishment was inevitable.
‘There’s nothing more troublesome than a subordinate who cannot be controlled.’
Following Knight Hamel’s summary execution last night, once Osman was imprisoned today, the servants of the Imperial Palace would also become vigilant.
‘One must not treat Elhart carelessly.’
‘Any fool who fails to grasp even that will be removed by my hand.’
From now on, what I truly needed to concern myself with was those above me.
“From now on, I shall fetch the master’s meals, so please visit the kitchen directly and inform them, Steward.”
If I failed to handle this properly, you would meet the same fate as that servant.
The Steward, whose mental barrier had already crumbled once, accepted the thought I had planted as his own and nodded urgently.
‘The demon’s abilities are certainly convenient.’
There was nothing that worked so effectively on those inclined toward wickedness.
‘But I must be cautious—frequent use would cause them to cling to me.’
How troublesome they had been, demanding I take responsibility for occupying their territories.
To avoid being tormented again by those I had barely managed to separate, it was essential to assess the current magical defenses of this place.
I needed to establish the upper limit of power that would prevent problems and use it efficiently.
‘I should explore the surroundings before returning when the meal is prepared.’
According to the Steward, the place where I currently stood was the Central Palace.
He said this was where the offices of high-ranking officials who formed the core of Cradion’s internal affairs were gathered.
Naturally, security was quite strict, but since I was not an outsider, I could move about freely.
‘Access to the third floor and above is restricted to only a few authorized individuals.’
I had no intention of drawing suspicion by lingering in such places in broad daylight.
‘First, I need to understand the building’s structure and patrol methods.’
In the early days of Bardia’s founding, Mikhail had deliberated over how to secure the Royal Palace’s interior and exterior.
Even those who could be called experts put their heads together, yet they experienced considerable trial and error, refining the system each time.
Over three hundred years had passed since then, so I naturally expected it to have developed into a far more perfect form.
‘What is this? Why is the Imperial Palace of the empire so poorly defended…?’
It looked as though it would crumble with just one or two intermediate-level attack spells.
‘Nothing but elementary-level alarm magic—what audacity….’
As I continued my thoughts while examining the walls, a certain hypothesis suddenly occurred to me.
‘Are high-ranking mages rare in Cradion?’
Now that I thought about it, I sensed no presence of master-class mages, of which there should be at least one or two in the Imperial Palace.
No matter how large the city, it shouldn’t be beyond my ability to detect.
‘This is something I’ll need to ask Elhart about.’
He must have been at the front lines until recently, so he would know Cradion’s military strength better than anyone.
‘The soldiers and knights under the Central Palace aren’t particularly skilled.’
Those guarding the Separate Palace seemed to be at a similar level.
‘If I observe the Emperor’s or Crown Prince’s personal guard knights, I could get a clearer assessment.’
Even thinking this, I didn’t believe I would encounter them easily.
Each would have their own office in their respective palaces—how often would they have reason to walk to the Central Palace themselves?
‘I’ve grasped the layout up to the second floor well enough. I should head back now.’
By this time, the meal would surely be prepared.
‘Our prince must be hungry.’
I had also skipped meals, but the habit of consuming only the minimum necessary for survival had become so ingrained that I rarely felt hunger.
‘Elhart probably burns an enormous amount of energy just breathing.’
Considering his physique and muscle mass, it seemed he would need ten times my food intake.
I was descending the stairs, mentally mapping the location of the dining hall the Steward had shown me, when—
‘Hmm…?’
A mana signature far exceeding any knight I’d encountered so far emanated from the lower floor.
‘High-rank or above. Just shy of the highest tier, it seems.’
I quickly descended the stairs and slipped among the other servants standing against the corridor walls.
Naturally lowering my gaze, I listened to their hushed whispers and soon discerned the visitor’s identity.
‘The Crown Prince. Lucky me.’
To gain the opportunity to observe a top-tier power holder within a day of infiltrating an enemy imperial palace—
When I subtly shifted my gaze, a blonde man walking at the center of the group caught my eye.
‘That must be him.’
As I was assessing the guard knights’ level, I suddenly froze in surprise.
The Crown Prince’s appearance, glimpsed between the knights, bore a striking resemblance to Mikhail.
‘What…?’
Having no intention of drawing attention with such a foolish mistake, I quickly lowered my gaze, but my mind flooded with questions.
‘Could he possibly be Mikhail’s descendant?’
It might simply be an incredible coincidence, but…
I suppressed the urge to examine him more closely and waited for the group to pass.
But why—
“….”
“Your Highness…?”
At first, it seemed merely like a passing glance.
Yet the Crown Prince’s gaze, having stopped in his tracks, remained fixed upon me with unwavering persistence.
As if trying to confirm something.

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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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