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chapter 43
Rocinante moved silently, like a shadow. Thanks to the stalking techniques he had learned from Shadow, he was able to perform them expertly even in his first real operation.
Peeking cautiously from behind the shaded wall of a building, he saw Cayenne and Malyuk deep in conversation.
The fact that they had chosen an abandoned garden with no sunlight indicated that they had deliberately sought a secluded place.
“What are they talking about?”
Cayenne, who had once told Rocinante he wanted revenge on Malyuk even if it meant giving him the upper hand, was now chatting amiably with him.
On the surface, they looked like perfect allies—and in reality, they were.
Using his senses, which were more developed than an average person’s, Rocinante eavesdropped on their conversation.
And the truth about Cayenne quickly became clear.
“…As expected.”
Rocinante clenched his fist slightly at the predictable content.
Twenty-one days passed, and then another twenty, until the day of the duel between the 12th and 13th princes arrived.
The duel was to take place in the 12th Prince’s palace, where Cayenne resided.
Cayenne, who was supposed to declare forfeiture and lose, sat shamelessly sipping tea without uttering a single word about surrender.
“This is a game I’ve already won.”
He chuckled darkly as time seemed to rush past like a torrent.
If things continued like this, Rocinante, who had not yet appeared at the duel, was at risk of losing by default.
But just as the duel seemed destined for a meaningless end, the protagonist proved the old saying true—arriving dramatically at the last moment.
“Ro… Ro…”
Cayenne stammered as if he were seeing a hallucination, biting his lips until they reddened.
“Roci…!”
“Please don’t call me that so casually. We aren’t that close.”
Rocinante drew a firm line and sat across from Cayenne.
The judge, present to ensure a fair duel, asked Cayenne,
“Will you proceed?”
“What… what do you mean, proceed?!”
Cayenne shouted, as if someone had struck a sensitive spot.
“I haven’t admitted defeat yet, nor have I lost! Let’s choose the Terrarium as the duel game, so go fetch the game board immediately!”
Panting from shouting, he struggled to regain composure but failed, his eyes trembling as he stared at Rocinante.
“Did my plan fail? How did he know I’d betray him? Or did he just come here without knowing?”
Nothing could be read from Rocinante’s expressionless face.
An object without emotion… or an abyss.
His blue, emotionless eyes were as deep as the endless ocean, and gazing into them terrified Cayenne.
“Or… did he already suspect that Malyuk and I were on the same side?”
According to Cayenne’s plan, Rocinante should not have appeared.
Yet, he did—confidently, with a determined expression that assumed victory.
“Damn it. What in the world is going on?!”
Cayenne, weak under unexpected situations, had tried to outmaneuver Rocinante but ended up losing the psychological game.
The fear surged within him like waves, consuming his mind.
Cayenne’s plan crumbled under Rocinante’s calmness, while simultaneously tightening around Cayenne himself.
He thought he heard the buzzing of a swarm of bees—hallucinations even—as he struggled to maintain his composure.
“How far ahead are you seeing? What don’t you know?!”
As Cayenne’s silent scream echoed, the game board was set, and the game began.
The game called Terrarium was a high-level strategy game of territory expansion.
Strategy. Tactics.
Qualities of a true ruler.
The ability to read the opponent’s mind.
All skills were necessary to win—but above all, maintaining composure was essential.
“I’ll take the first move.”
The coin toss granted Rocinante the first turn.
Though it was purely by chance, the already frazzled Cayenne believed Rocinante had somehow manipulated it.
Move by move, turn by turn.
Though it seemed like a fierce battle, Cayenne struggled just to defend against Rocinante’s attacks.
Meanwhile, as the ruler in the game, Rocinante strategically conquered Cayenne’s territories.
“This is impossible. I’m not losing in a brute force fight… but a battle of wits? And I’m being outsmarted?”
And the margin was overwhelming.
Every time Rocinante’s strategic superiority shone, sweat drenched Cayenne’s back.
Before long, Cayenne had no territory left on the board.
He straightened his hunched neck and looked up.
Before him stood the great emperor of the Unified Empire.
“It’s over, Cayenne.”
“The winner! The 13th Prince, Rocinante Esteban Leon de Draktarion!”
Weak-legged, Cayenne collapsed to the floor.
Mercy and compassion were luxuries for villains.
Rocinante ignored him and left the palace without hesitation.
Although Cayenne’s collusion with Malyuk was revealed, Rocinante’s quick response secured him the victory.
Since the previous hunting contest had been more of an event, this was effectively Rocinante’s first true victory in the hierarchy battle.
“I can finally drop any suspicion that the prince has switched with a spy.”
It had been proven in the hunting contest, and this win confirmed it once again.
Opening his heart, he smiled brightly at the prince’s stand-in.
“We’ll need to cast a new spell, but switching palaces was a wise decision.”
They were in the 12th Prince’s palace, Cayenne’s former residence until recently.
Winning the duel gave Rocinante the right to order Cayenne to switch palaces, publicly asserting his higher rank.
Bluffing wasn’t inherently bad.
For someone in the position of a youngest illegitimate son, a little show of bravado was necessary.
“The 11th Prince’s palace is nearby too, so maybe we can schedule the duel with Malyuk sooner?”
“Hmm? Ah, yes.”
“Why the lukewarm response? Wasn’t this decision for the hierarchy battle?”
“I considered that, but it was more for Levieta’s sake.”
“For me?”
“The more staff in the palace, the easier life will be for her.”
When occupying a palace, the staff would fall under the 13th Prince’s command.
“I’ll move her to a better place as soon as possible, so she won’t have to struggle.”
“Roci…”
Immersed in emotion, Zerodines suddenly interjected.
―This palace feels gloomy, like a ghost might appear.
Was that a self-deprecating joke?
―If you don’t like it, we’ll move to the next palace quickly. I won’t decorate it luxuriously just to strengthen your resolve.
A magical circle on his left hand flickered for a moment.
―The 13th Prince’s palace has been restored to its original state.
Cayenne would still be inside, probably sitting on a soft sofa before suddenly finding himself on the cold floor. Rocinante could picture it clearly.
Well, it was his own fault.
“It’s about time for training.”
“…Time flies too fast when I’m with you, unlike during training.”
“Does Master Gilbert push you hard?”
“He’s a good teacher.”
Her evasive answer suggested that training was indeed grueling.
Rocinante changed the subject.
“Levieta, can you greet the palace staff alone?”
“Who do you take me for! I’m a capable mage.”
She puffed out her cheeks in protest, and Rocinante smiled wryly.
“I know, but I’m asking because you’re my wife too.”
Contrary to his words, he gently stroked her head.
She suddenly realized that she had grown taller than him without noticing.
“When did I grow so much without knowing?”
Spring during growth was painful and short, but also dazzlingly beautiful.
Backlit, his golden hair shone like sunlight, and their days in the royal court accumulated quickly and steadily.
