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Side Story Chapter 26

“Ugh!” One of the knights took a sword, too annoyed to hold himself back.

About two hundred of the rebel knights stepped forward; the other knights, including Hans, didn’t move.

“Is this everyone?” Kireua’s eyes shone.

These people must have surrendered due to one of two reasons: they either gave up or hated the deceased Marquess Suspen more than dishonor.

“Two hundred knights…” Kireua slowly smiled. Every one of them could use mana, so the odds weren’t in his favor. Nevertheless, Kireua didn’t feel nervous at all. “Who wants to start first?”

The rebel knights flinched.

One of the rebel knights chuckled coldly. “If it had been His Majesty, he would have told us to attack him all at once.”

Kireua tilted his head. “Name?”

“I’m Gerno, the third strongest knight of the White Tiger Knight Order, Marquess Suspen’s first knight order.”

Kireua’s smile deepened. “Your provocation is meaningless.”

“It’s the truth, not provocation, Your Highness. That was how strong His Majesty was. If he had still been in the Imperial Palace, all these rebellions wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

“What are you trying to say?” Kireua cocked his head.

“I mean that you aren’t His Majesty, Joshua Sanders, the Martial God. You were just lucky to be born into the Imperial Family as His Majesty’s son.”

Gerno infused his mana into the sword.

“Then let me ask you this,” Kireua said. “If I told you to all attack me together, would you have felt better?”

Gerno’s eyebrow rose.

“No.” Kireua shook his head. “You would think I was looking down on all of you. You’re all already furious about getting deceived, but that would wound your pride greatly.”

“Don’t cloud the issue like that. You just aren’t confident about your sk—”

“If I wasn’t confident in my skills, I wouldn’t have asked you to attack me,” KIreua interrupted with a shrug.

Gerno closed his mouth. The other knights stiffened awkwardly because Kireua was right. All the rebel knights were already prisoners, so Kireua had no reason to take such a risk—he had no benefits to gain from it.

“Do I need to say anything else? Come, I’ll demonstrate the skills you were so concerned with using my sword.” Kireua waved his sword slightly.

Pretending to be an old man must have left a permanent mark on him, because Kireua’s way of speaking was changing into an old man’s, although he wasn’t aware of it.

-Kireua, you act like a grandpa.

Coal noticed it first and bounced up and down.

‘Stay out of this, Coal,’ Kireua said in his mind.

-Are you going to give me something yummy?

‘You thug. I said I’d let you rest, so why would you ask for something tasty?’ Kireua asked, dumbfounded.

-I heard that when you make a request, you need to pay a price.

Kireua had to suppress the urge to massage his aching temples. ‘From who? Did you read a book again?’

-Yup!

‘…What is the title of this book you read?’

-It’s How to Not Hear Criticism From Other People: Make Sure to Keep the Tab Clear!

Kireua had definitely not expected to hear such an answer.

‘That’s the title?’ he asked.

-It was published in the Year 730 of the continental calendar and was written by Charles di Pontier!

‘…Wait, who wrote it?’ Kireua couldn’t hear the answer to his question.

“Don’t regret this,” Gerno muttered under his breath.

A layer of vivid blue aura, capable of cutting iron like tofu, was cast over the sharp edge of Gerno’s sword that thrummed as it swelled with power. Judging from how radiantly Gerno’s aura was shining, he seemed to be at least a Class B knight.

Gerno streaked forward with the sound of a fired arrow. He and his sword became one and together moved like a lightning bolt. Kireua also fixed his grip on his sword.

Their swords clashed head-on. The fragments of Gerno’s aura scattered into the air with an ear splitting crack. The dust settled to reveal a shocking result after a single exchange of attacks.

In the audience, the rebel knights’ eyes nearly popped out of their skulls.

“…Ugh!” Gerno was flung away, his feet digging two deep furrows across the ground until his back slammed into the fortress walls and he coughed up a fountain of blood. He could not withstand the impact of their collision.

“Next,” Kireua quietly said in the ensuing silence.

“…Oh, my god. Gerno was about to rise above Class B, but he got that messed up after one strike?”

“I really didn’t expect His Highness to be that strong…”

“Didn’t you already see that on the battlefield? If His Highness Kireua was pretending to be His Majesty… the person that used the Magic Spear Art techniques is also His Highness Kireua.”

“W-Wait, that’s strange. From what I heard, His Highness Kireua isn’t talented with spears, unlike His Highness Selim. Besides, he’s holding a sword right now.”

“That means there’s something very wrong with the rumors.”

The rebel knights had seen Kireua’s skills for the first time in Fortress Raymond as it had been less than two years since Kireua had returned from the Thran Kingdom.

“Don’t let your guard down, everyone. Young Master Argo was Marquess Suspen’s son, but he lost his head after Prince Kireua’s first strike.”

The rebel knights nervously swallowed their saliva. If Gerno, a Class B knight, had been defeated by a single strike, then it would take the vice commander or the commander of the White Tiger Knights to have a proper fight.

“If you aren’t planning on attacking me all at once, why doesn\'t your commander come out now?” Kireua asked. “...Or do you accept your defeat?”

“…As you suggested, I’ll fight you now.”

“There you go.” Kireua smiled faintly.

“If you also defeat me, Your Highness, we rebel knights will concede our defeat.”

Kireua’s smile deepened as his opponent voluntarily labeled himself as a rebel. This was the reaction he was looking for. He still had countless enemies to fight, so he couldn’t let the enemies that he had already defeated ambush him. Nevertheless, Kireua couldn’t just kill everyone because that would end in the worst way possible, just like Selim had said.

“I did prepare myself for the possibility of fighting two hundred of you at once… Are you really going to be okay on your own?” Kireua asked.

“There is one thing you don’t know, Your Highness.”

“One thing I don’t know?” Kireua tilted his head in confusion.

“It might have been different in wars, but no one in the south can beat me in one on one battle.”

“…What?” Kireua frowned slightly.

“I’ll start.”

The air thrummed with power that made Gerno’s look like a candle flame.

“Mmm…” Kireua grunted.

He was about to go up against the commander of the White Tiger Knights, Marquess Suspen’s strongest knightly order.

“I, Sparc Murtan, will defeat you using my full power, Your Highness.”

Kireua\'s eyes widened as Sparc’s aura began to spark and take on a certain form, which meant only one thing.

“An authority?” Kireua mumbled.

Sparc’s mana also swiftly transformed.

The buzzing of bugs’ wings filled the air—and it wasn’t just the sound. A swarm of golden aura flies were flying around the area.

“They’re the combination of my family’s secret technique and a god’s power,” Sparc informed Kireua.

Kireua’s eyes turned cold. Even without fighting the aura flies directly, Kireua could tell how strong Sparc’s technique was. The aura flies sounded more like someone was swinging a sword as they flew by than a normal bug, and they were fluttering their wings at least hundreds of times in a second, indicating how fast they were.

“I’ll get slaughtered if they surround me,” Kireua concluded.

“So you’d better cut off my head before that happens.”

Kireua tilted his head. “That is very kind of you.”

“Of course, that would be impossible.” Sparc straightened his posture. The golden aura flies reached their maximum speed and Sparc hurled himself toward Kireua at maximum speed.

The golden aura flies made by his authority shot in all directions and then lunged for Kireua’s vital points.

Kireua finally drew up his aura. The mana rushed from his mana hall through every vein in his body. However, he really didn’t feel like he needed Coal’s help in this fight.

‘Sir Cain told me that relying on a god’s power is the quickest way for my skills to deteriorate.’

Kireua focused his mana into his eyes.

No matter how fast those aura flies were or how hard they tried to confuse Kireua with their movements, Kireua could clearly see their essence and where they were going to head next.

A silver line was drawn in the air. Sparc was confused because he hadn’t even hit his target yet, but confusion quickly changed to surprise when a raging storm of scarlet flame surrounded Kireua.

“…Ugh!” Sparc grunted. He could feel the heat in his skin as the firestorm soared into the sky. A ten-meter radius was instantly scorched and the golden aura flies dropped to the ground, wingless.

“Ho-How…?” Sparc mumbled.

“Scarlet Flame Sword Level 4, Heat Sword: Flame Emperor’s Land.”

Sparc\'s eyes widened.

“Level, sword… What are you talking about? That’s the system used in His Majesty’s Magic Spear Art…”

Kireua nodded. “What you’re thinking is right. The moment I realized that I’m more talented with swords, I combined the swordcraft that I learned from my teacher with His Majesty’s Magic Spear Arts, creating my own unique Magic Sword Arts.”

Sparc’s jaw dropped to the ground because was experienced enough to know how impossible a task that was in spite of Kireua’s straightforward explanation.

“That doesn’t make any sense—!”

“Do you want to continue?” Kireua asked, holding his heated sword against Sparc’s neck.

Sparc finally realized that people were gravely mistaken about Kireua Sanders, the tragic Second Prince. Although they believed that the Second Prince had left the Empire after failing to overcome his limits, Selim Sanders wasn’t the only talented prince in the Empire, and Kireua Sanders was indeed also the son of the Martial God.