Chapter 24

It had been a week since the banquet where the Emperor and the princes had gathered together for the first time in a long while.

However, the atmosphere in the Imperial Palace had been far from ordinary ever since that night.

“Did you hear? About that banquet where His Majesty and Their Highnesses all gathered? Word is, the Second Prince and the Fifth Prince had a duel—and that His Highness the Fifth Prince won.”

“Eh, what nonsense is that? I never took you for someone so gullible. You should at least make your stories sound believable.”

The duel between Yuwon and the Second Prince that had taken place during the banquet spread slowly yet quietly through the palace halls.

“Oh my, did you hear? The Second Prince and the Fifth Prince had a duel, and apparently, the Fifth Prince won!”

“That old rumor? I’ve heard it already. But think about it—His Highness the Fifth Prince beating the Second Prince? Ha! Don’t make me laugh. Maybe he shouted louder during an argument, sure. You know how those idle eunuchs love to exaggerate stories and pretend they have the real information? You’re too soft-hearted, Sister. How could you believe that?”

“I-Is that so…?”

The rumor didn’t fade after a day or two.

Instead, it spread wider through the palace like mist, refusing to die out.

It was, after all, a clear reflection of just how much interest people had in the question of succession.

Even though most dismissed it as baseless gossip, the story continued to roll off tongues everywhere.

For a full week, courtiers and servants debated its truth—until new pieces of information began to surface, lending weight to the whispers.

‘It was said that the Second Prince was at an overwhelming disadvantage—that the duel’s condition was for the Fifth Prince to win if he landed even a single strike.’

‘They say there’s a scar on the Second Prince’s forehead that wasn’t there before. A result of that duel, apparently.’

These stories all pointed to one fact: no matter how unfair the terms were, the Second and Fifth Princes had indeed fought—and the Fifth Prince had won.

The rumors that had divided opinions until now were sealed with that revelation.

‘Every word was true! The Fifth Prince struck the Second Prince with a single blow!’

The Imperial Palace turned upside down.

After all, it was not just anyone’s duel—it was between the Second Prince, known as the “Sword of the Imperial Family,” and the Fifth Prince, once mocked as the “White Dog.”

The shocking outcome shook the entire palace, and the initial rumor birthed even more.

‘It’s true that the Fifth Prince had been hiding his power all along.’

‘He pretended to be a wastrel to avoid his brothers’ suspicions, but in truth, he’s a cunning schemer raising a black serpent within.’

‘Apparently, there’s a strong supporter backing the Fifth Prince from the shadows.’

‘Even the White Dragon Sword’s choice wasn’t mere coincidence. It must’ve been the Grand General himself who saw through the prince and chose him.’

‘The Fifth Prince’s engagement to the Valaris family’s daughter is near. Soon, he’ll form a powerful faction through his maternal and marital families.’

‘The Fifth Prince…’

‘The Fifth Prince…’

Every rumor that overturned the Imperial Palace began with the Fifth Prince and ended with him.

A new wind blew through the palace—or rather, a storm.

A massive storm that would overturn the current order entirely.

At the center of that storm stood Tang Yuwon.

The Crown Prince’s office.

“Take a few available men from the Third and Fourth Princes’ sides and have them blend in with the youngest’s group. Still, don’t push too hard for now. Keep it subtle. You understand?”

“Yes, Your Highness. It will be done as you command.”

“Good. You may leave.”

Left alone in his seat, the Crown Prince quietly closed his eyes.

‘A week ago… and even now, I still feel the anger rising when I think about it. Seems I still have a long way to go.’

What Yurion had displayed at that banquet a week ago was not something achieved overnight.

When Yurion had first revealed his hidden ability, the Crown Prince had, truthfully, been furious.

He had calmed himself swiftly, as befitted his position, and handled the situation rationally—but apart from this, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had felt such rage.

The Crown Prince.

The Second Prince had a flashy title—“Sword of the Imperial Family.” The Third Prince was hailed as a “Genius of Magic.” Even the Fourth Prince bore the grand moniker of “Saint of the Imperial Family.”

But the Crown Prince had no such title.

He was simply the Crown Prince.

Not because he lacked merit, but because he was the Crown Prince.

There was no need for titles or nicknames when the entire Empire—and the whole world—already remembered him as the Crown Prince of Aphahiel.

That was the weight of the name “Crown Prince.”

They said empty wagons made the most noise. The Crown Prince didn’t need embellishment, but others, unsatisfied with that, clung to their self-proclaimed titles.

No one knew this truth better than he did. He was destined for the throne as long as he made no grave mistake.

And so far, he had made none.

He had carefully balanced the powers among the four princes and controlled the game board exactly as he wished.

The Second Prince, backed by the unwavering support of the martial factions, might have appeared to be his equal from a distance. But up close, the difference was unmistakable—the Crown Prince had no true rival.

Those standing by the Crown Prince were the true power of the central court. No matter how brightly the Second Prince’s men shone in their armor, they were nothing more than blades wielded by the Emperor and the capital’s political forces.

‘Unless Father were to suddenly pass away, there’s no way he’d allow the succession to devolve into civil war. The sword is only dangerous when it is swung. I am the head, and the Second Prince is the blade.’

Even when the Second Prince flaunted his growing influence, the Crown Prince always greeted him with a smile.

It wasn’t the smile of goodwill—it was the confident smile of one who knew, No matter how high you climb, you can never surpass me.

In truth, the Crown Prince rather liked his brother. If he were the protagonist of this grand play, the Second Prince was the charming antagonist who made the drama worth watching.

He had made it seem as if he and the Second Prince were equals in power, turning the competition into a duel between two.

The Third and Fourth Princes, who had lost their chance at rising power, naturally stagnated. The Crown Prince crushed both sides’ growth and eliminated any potential variables.

His plan had worked perfectly.

The Third Prince’s faction consisted merely of the Tower’s old magicians and his mother’s family—barely enough to be called a force.

The Fourth Prince did not even need to be mentioned.

The powerless commoners and the influence of the clergy?

This was not a holy nation, and the people were like dust scattered with a single gust of wind. The Fourth Prince, too, was no match for the Crown Prince.

Thus, the Crown Prince could now focus all his attention on keeping the Second Prince in check. However, that pressure could not be so strong as to shatter the delicate balance of the board he had built.

The Crown Prince maintained his lead, and the Second Prince always followed right behind, just barely.

The Third Prince lacked the power to even think of stepping between them, and the Fourth Prince—perhaps realizing he stood no chance—had withdrawn from the race altogether.

Everything was proceeding according to the Crown Prince’s plan.

Until just a few days ago, he had been the undisputed master observing the struggle for the throne from above.

Every piece on the board had moved as he willed it. Or so it had seemed.

‘It had been that way... until Yurion, that rat of a man, dared deceive me and play the fool?’

But now, things had changed.

On the board he had believed to be under perfect control, a single piece had begun to move of its own accord.

That piece was the youngest—a hopeless scoundrel who, even if he tried to struggle now, was worth less than the Third or Fourth Princes.

He was, frankly, not worthy of being the Crown Prince’s opponent.

Yet the fact that this fool had deceived him and moved at will within his board grated on his nerves.

That shift in feeling was what ignited the Crown Prince’s fury.

‘Well done, Yurion. To have fooled me so completely all these years, pretending to be a wastrel—an impressive move, I admit. But that’s as far as my mercy goes.’

The thought that the youngest might have secretly laughed at him while playing the idiot made the Crown Prince grind his teeth in rage.

‘Do yourself a favor and stay exactly as you are. If you dare shake the board again on your own whim, that day will be your funeral.’

Knock, knock, knock—

A sound echoed from the door to the Crown Prince’s office.

“Your Highness, I have something urgent to report. May I come in?”

At that, the Crown Prince opened his eyes.

Whatever thoughts had passed through his mind while his eyes were closed, the blue eyes that emerged carried a chilling gleam of sharp intent.

He quickly composed himself and allowed the subordinate to enter.

“Ah, come in.”

The man who had been seething with fury moments ago vanished without a trace, replaced by the familiar, gentle Crown Prince everyone knew.

The transformation was as quick and clean as flipping a card.

“So then, what is it?”

The Crown Prince greeted his subordinate with a bright smile. He smiled—just as he always did.

Renania Valaris.

Daughter of the Count Valaris, the border lord who guarded the southern frontier of the Empire—she was the beloved heiress of one of the realm’s most distinguished houses.

She had inherited her mother’s flowerlike beauty and her father’s valor as a warrior, a combination that made her the very picture of perfection.

From a young age, she had dominated the southern social circles with the prestige of her house at her back.

Now, her name resonated even in the central social circles of the Empire.

It was understandable that the Empire’s most prominent families competed fiercely to make her their daughter-in-law. Yet, for all her enviable fortune, Renania carried one great burden: her betrothal.

‘Of all the princes in the Empire, why the most disgraceful one—the Fifth Prince!’

In truth, she had been betrothed to the Fifth Prince from a time so long ago she could hardly remember—a promise made in childhood.

‘Father, what were you thinking making such a rash promise...’

It hadn’t been such a dreadful thing at first.

In her early childhood—before she even turned ten—she had been proud to be promised to a prince.

But that pride had soon been shattered.

The Fifth Prince, who once loved books and music, began changing after his tenth year—becoming frail, irritable, and eventually infamous across the continent as a debauched wastrel.

She could not count how many nights she had spent in anguish when the Fifth Prince’s reckless reputation first began to spread.

‘No, that can’t be true. His Highness would never behave so crudely. When I met him, he was so gentle and refined...’

Her faith, however, was broken just two days later by news from the Imperial Palace.

‘His Highness the Fifth Prince was caught smuggling narcotics into the palace through his servants. It’s said he’s now one of the biggest clients of the drug dealers in the capital.’

After that, Renania shut her ears to any news from the Imperial Palace for quite some time.

All she ever heard were tales of the Crown Prince and the other princes’ achievements. Whenever the Fifth Prince’s name came up, it was always in disgraceful contexts.

It was around that time she began turning her attention toward high society—something she had never cared about before.

‘My future husband is the Empire’s greatest scoundrel. I refuse to live with that shame.’

In truth, Renania had always been more drawn to the battlefield than the ballroom. Though the world praised her for her beauty and grace, she was a rare warrior blessed with both talent and diligence.

As a child, she had often declared that she would marry a great warrior like her father—one who knew honor and valor.

As she grew older and realized what her marriage would mean as the only daughter of a Count, she quietly buried that dream—but her heart remained unchanged.

Even as she forced herself into the fine dresses and high heels of society, gaining fame across the salons of the Empire, her thoughts were always with her father on the southern warfront. Her body was bound to the ballroom, but her spirit longed for the battlefield.

‘If the Fifth Prince had even half the qualities of his brothers, I wouldn’t have had to live like this. It’s all his fault!’

The woman who should have been sweating with a sword in her hands instead found herself wearing tight dresses and high heels—all because of that wastrel prince.

Nearly ten years had passed since then.

There was now no one in the Empire’s social circles who did not know Renania Valaris by name.

As her value in society rose, the distance between her and the Fifth Prince grew—bit by bit.

At first, people had only pitied her for being betrothed to the notorious prince. But as time went on, they began shaking their heads at the very mention of the engagement.

“Honestly, between us, Lady Valaris is far too good for His Highness the Fifth Prince, don’t you think?”

“Indeed. She’s the only daughter of that Valaris family, after all. And now, it only benefits those Northern lords. Tsk.”

The Valaris family—lords of the South and rulers of its armies. For the Fifth Prince, such a bride was far beyond his station.

That was why Renania had come here.

Today, she intended to bring everything to an end.

Now, she stood before the gates of the Fifth Prince’s Palace.

‘Yes, this is what I’ve been preparing for. It ends today.’

With resolute determination, she pushed open the heavy gates.

“I am Renania Valaris of the Valaris family. I’ve come to see His Highness the Fifth Prince.”

Truly the demeanor of a warrior-maiden. Marcellus, who had only received word of her unexpected visit minutes before her arrival, hurried to greet her on behalf of Yuwon.

“Oh my, welcome, my lady! When I heard that such an esteemed guest was coming, I could hardly contain my excitement.”

“You’ve worked hard, Chief Attendant. I’ve come to see His Highness. Is he within?”

Her tone carried the weight of finality, like a knight marching to war.

But Marcellus’s answer deflated her shoulders at once.

“Well... His Highness is currently away.”

“Where has he gone?”

Marcellus gave an awkward smile.

“Ah... I’m afraid you’ll need to wait a while. His Highness went to the library, and once he’s there... well, he usually doesn’t return until after sunset.”

Renania’s fine brow furrowed.

“The library?”

That wastrel—in a library?

Rather than surprise, suspicion was the first thing that came to her mind.

It had been barely three weeks since Tang Yuwon had awakened in Yurion’s body.

In that short time, news from the Imperial Palace had yet to reach the far southern Valaris County.