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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: selkie
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Second Prince Deneb Philios. He is one of the two sons of the Second Empress, Elli Philios, the eldest daughter of the Duke of Valencia.
Thanks to his dominion over numerous port cities, he enjoys the support of the Duke of Valencia, known as the wealthiest in the Philios Empire.
Deneb, the Second Prince, spent gold like water to seize control of the empire’s underworld, and countless assassins stood behind him.
Of course, gold alone wouldn’t have been enough to dominate the empire’s night.
A true force of darkness stood behind him, though only a select few knew of its existence.
“My lord, a guest has arrived from ‘Deep Night.’”
Late at night, a Royal Guard dressed in black uniform entered Deneb’s bedroom, bowing politely as he delivered the news.
Deneb, who had been reading by the window, lifted his head. Midnight had already passed, and he was tired, but he couldn’t simply turn away a guest from ‘Deep Night.’
“Escort them to the drawing room. I’ll meet them there.”
“Yes, my lord.”
A distinguished guest. It would be improper to meet them in his bedroom.
At Deneb’s command, the guard bowed and stepped back. Not long after, word came that the guest had arrived in the drawing room.
After changing into proper attire, Deneb headed straight there.
“Leave us.”
Upon entering, he dismissed the three Royal Guards stationed inside.
He trusted their discretion, but the fewer people who knew about his conversation with a guest from ‘Deep Night,’ the better.
“You have arrived, Your Highness.”
As Deneb stepped deeper into the spacious drawing room, a man dressed in black emerged from the shadows, speaking in a calm voice.
His presence was cold, carrying a chilling air. His gaze was steady as he looked at Deneb.
“You’ve received a brief report on the situation at the border, haven’t you?”
“The situation isn’t good.”
“No, it is not. The Fifth Prince rescued Marquess Crayer, who was on the verge of execution. Because of that, his status at the border and within the marquessate has soared.”
The emissary, Dwen, didn’t need to say it outright. The Fifth Prince was now being revered as a hero of the border.
“Marquess Crayer should have been killed rather than captured.”
There was a hint of regret in Deneb’s voice. Dwen’s lips curled slightly.
“But isn’t he a noble who will eventually fall under your rule, Your Highness? You seem to take their lives rather lightly.”
It wasn’t a statement made out of concern. There was a touch of mockery in it, yet Deneb’s expression remained unmoved.
“If it’s for the throne, I can do far worse.”
His words carried a strong ambition for the imperial seat. Dwen, knowing this well, smiled faintly.
Had he not been greedy for the throne, he wouldn’t have sought foreign support.
“Historically, the northeastern nobles have rallied under the esteemed knightly house of Marquess Crayer, forming a shield against the sharp blades of the Tri-Nation Alliance. The marquess is a man who remembers his debts well. He will soon declare his support for the Fifth Prince, and the northeastern nobles will follow.”
Dwen explained. Deneb couldn’t hide his frustration.
“The Fifth Prince must have anticipated this when he risked everything to save Crayer.”
“Raymond… I never thought he was this meticulous.”
Deneb had placed watchers on the First and Third Princes, even on the Fourth Princess. But he hadn’t bothered with the Fifth Prince, dismissing him as a wastrel unworthy of attention.
He had been wrong. Raymond now wielded a sharper blade than even the First Prince.
“Wouldn’t it be best to eliminate him?”
“I leave that to your judgment, Your Highness.”
Deneb phrased it as a question, but he had already made up his mind.
Dwen knew this and merely smirked, avoiding a direct answer.
“I’ve decided. He must be eliminated.”
As expected, the decision had been made from the start. Dwen nodded and spoke.
“Shall I prepare the stage?”
“It would be good to support the assassins as well. I could rely solely on my own people, but that would only invite suspicion.”
“You plan to shift the blame onto the Tri-Nation Alliance again?”
“My ascension to the throne would benefit your kingdom as well, wouldn’t it?”
Dwen gave no response. He only offered a sly smile. A heavy silence stretched on for over five minutes before he finally spoke.
“I will inform my superiors.”
Dwen was the first to leave the drawing room. Deneb exhaled sharply and shook his head. Though he had chosen to rely on foreign forces to claim the throne, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at him.
‘When the time comes, I’ll sever the connection.’
If he took the throne with foreign support, his power would always have limits. That was why Deneb was preparing to cut ties with ‘Deep Night’ once he secured his position.
He moved cautiously, but ‘Deep Night’ was not to be underestimated. They knew everything.
“Sylvia.”
“You called for me?”
Unlike the gloomy aura of Deneb’s other Royal Guards, this response was light and clear. Yet, beneath it, there was an undeniable depth of darkness.
A figure stepped forward from the shadows, clad in the black uniform of the Royal Guard. She was an elf with platinum-blond hair cascading just past her shoulders in gentle waves.
Her lifeless green eyes locked onto Deneb.
“I have a task for you.”
“Your Highness, didn’t you promise to free my younger sister and the World Tree after the banquet?”
“You misled me, and the plan fell apart. That promise is null and void.”
Sylvia bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. She barely held back the curses threatening to spill from her mouth. This wretched chain of servitude strangled her and her people, never loosening its grip.
She wanted to resist, but with the lives of her powerless kin in his hands, she had no choice but to obey.
“What is your command?”
She asked cautiously. What would he order her to do this time? She could already see the approaching storm of trials ahead. She closed her eyes tightly.
How long did she wait? Finally, Deneb spoke.
“I hear your people have a base in the northeastern forest.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
A sense of unease crept over her.
“Then you must be well acquainted with the geography of Marquess Crayer’s territory.”
“Yes… Give your command.”
She no longer wanted to be in the same space as him.
If she had to follow his orders anyway, she wanted to leave this place as soon as possible.
“Go to the Black Mountains with my assassins.”
“What am I to do there?”
The destination was as expected—one of the most dangerous places on the continent, the Black Mountains.
“You’re guiding the way again.”
That was all. The Second Prince didn’t explain much. The only option left was to gather information from the other assassins under his command.
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Still unsettled by Elphis and the Apocalypse Association, Raymond withdrew from the Black Mountains with his troops and moved toward the Crayer Marquessate.
A knight order belonging to the Crayer Marquessate led five hundred cavalrymen to escort the Marquis to the border.
As soon as they encountered the Fifth Prince and Marquess Crayer descending from the border, they all dismounted and bowed.
“Your Highness! Welcome back to the Crayer Marquessate!”
It was a much warmer welcome than before. Seeing this, Raymond turned to Marquess Crayer beside him and smirked.
He didn’t say a word, but the Marquis knew exactly what that smile meant.
“Your Highness, the Fifth Prince, the hero of the Northeast, will have no inconveniences during your stay in the Marquisate.”
Marquiess Crayer spoke. It was also a promise to himself, a resolution for his past recklessness.
Unlike when he first arrived in the Northeast, Raymond had now not only rescued Marquess Crayer but had also become a hero in the Black Mountains, battling against the Free Isiria Kingdom Army.
Neglecting him would be inviting mockery.
Escorted by the Crayer family’s forces, they arrived at the Marquisate’s capital. The gates stood wide open, and on both sides of the main street, people waved flowers and imperial flags, cheering. Though soldiers maintained order, the excitement was palpable.
Even the rooftops were packed with people eager to catch a glimpse of the Fifth Prince. The doors of houses lining the main street were thrown open, with people leaning out, waving handkerchiefs and flags.
“Long live the Philios Empire!”
“Long live His Highness, the Fifth Prince!”
They chanted, praising both the empire and the Fifth Prince.
‘My calculations were correct.’
Watching the cheering crowd, Raymond’s lips curled slightly. Marquess Crayer was a well-respected lord in the Northeast.
Though he hadn’t reached the rank of a Great Lord like the Mountain Duke, he had long served as the Northeast’s shield, defending the empire. Because of this, many nobles had gathered under the Crayer family’s banner, and even the commoners supported and followed him.
‘At the very least, the Northeast won’t turn against me now.’
Marquess Crayer was a noble who took debts and favors seriously. The novel’s setting made that clear.
Confirming once more that his decision was correct, Raymond urged his horse forward through the wide road.
Children ran up and scattered flower petals in his path.
This was nothing short of a grand triumphal return. The crowd stretched all the way to the inner city gates.
Since commoners had limited access to the inner city, he expected the crowd to stop there, but he was mistaken.
“Welcome, Your Highness!”
Knights in immaculate uniforms were lined up along the road.
They were knights of the Crayer Marquessate, gathered to express their gratitude to the Fifth Prince, who had saved their lord.
Unlike when he first entered the capital, the gazes upon him now were filled with goodwill.
After being welcomed by both the citizens and the knights, Raymond’s party passed through the inner city and reached the lord’s castle.
“A welcoming banquet has been prepared.”
The moment they passed through the castle gates, Marquess Crayer spoke. Since this was an expected development, Raymond nodded without hesitation.
All of Raymond’s close aides attended the banquet. It was clear that great effort had been put into the preparations, as the quality of the dishes was exceptional.
The Blue Tower Master was moved to tears as he eagerly worked his fork and knife, indulging in the luxurious feast; something he hadn’t seen since leaving the Black Mountains and the border.
“Mind your dignity, we’re in front of His Highness.”
The Red Tower Master tried to rein him in, but it was pointless. The Blue Tower Master had already lost himself to the allure of fine cuisine. However, since his behavior wasn’t excessive, Raymond simply chuckled and shook his head.
After the banquet, Raymond and Marquess Crayer took a bottle of liquor and moved to the terrace.
In a comfortable silence, they filled each other’s cups.
“Your Highness.”
Once they had drained about half of their first glass, Marquess Crayer broke the silence. Raymond, who had been eyeing the side dishes, looked up.
“I want to express my gratitude once again.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve already said that several times on the way here.”
“I don’t consider the ramblings of an injured man a proper expression of thanks.”
Marquess Crayer rose from his seat and bowed deeply.
“To be honest, I doubt my first impression of Your Highness was a good one. But when my life was in danger, the first person who came to my aid was you.”
His voice trembled. If he had been brutally killed by the Ghost Unit, his young eldest son, Cron, would have inherited the title of Marquis.
Cron was a talented knight, but he wasn’t yet a capable ruler. He had much to learn. If he had been forced to take on the burden of ruling too soon, managing the vast Marquisate would have been no easy task.
“I acted for His Majesty and the Philios Empire.”
“Of course, Your Highness. But in the end, you saved my life, and I cannot overlook that.”
It was a stance befitting Marquess Crayer, a noble who always settled debts and favors.
“Bring it here.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Marquess Crayer gestured to his steward, instructing him to bring something.
It was undoubtedly a reward for saving his life. Since it was being presented directly by Marquess Crayer, it wouldn’t be a mere token of gratitude. Raymond steadied his heartbeat and waited calmly.
Soon, the steward returned, carrying an ornate storage box. Marquess Crayer took it and carefully handed it to Raymond.
“Your Highness, the Fifth Prince, you have effectively saved not just me but the entire Crayer Marquessate. As such, I present to you a magical artifact passed down through my family for generations.”
As the lid was lifted, a white ring, emanating an icy aura, was revealed.
‘Could it be…?’
This was a greater reward than expected. Among the magical artifacts passed down in the Crayer Marquessate, only one was described in the novel as possessing such an icy presence.
That could only mean…
“Your Highness, the Fifth Prince, I present to you the Guardian of Frozen Souls.”
It was a Unique-grade magical artifact, a rarity even in the imperial treasury.
Jackpot!