CRP 11

Chapter 11: The City of Festivals, Caron (1)

Late at night.

Rough returned to the guest room, his eyes heavy with deep concern.

I thought he would want something, but…

In truth, after the trial, Rough had accidentally overheard a conversation between Marquis Benimaru and Wesley. The details were lost to the surrounding noise, but it was undeniable—something significant had passed between them.

Summoning the courage to ask the king directly had yielded an unexpected answer, leaving Rough both puzzled and unsettled.

Was the Crown Prince always like this?

The Crown Prince he knew was a reckless, irresponsible youth. A man with no sense of duty, no foresight—living each day for his own whims, drowning in alcohol. The only redeeming quality was that he never touched women or gambling. Beyond that, he was violent, authoritarian, and pitifully insignificant.

If something happens to your father this time… he’ll become a monster like me.

Hearing those words today offered clarity—a reason behind the Crown Prince’s previous actions, now illuminated by context.

The Crown Prince… no, His Highness…

He had carried pain he could never share with others.

“The devil ripped from his mother’s womb…”

Anyone from Liechtenstein would recognize that phrase. Yet one thing remained unknown to Rough.

How much must he have suffered…

Who could grow up hearing that from childhood and remain sane? Humans are selfish creatures—they care little for others when it does not concern them. That was why no one understood Wesley’s heart. Or perhaps, they never tried. He was second only to the king in status, the designated next monarch. Every title and accolade obscured the darkness he carried within.

And I… didn’t even know this.

Had he doubted and despised the Crown Prince? The thought made him sick.

A man who swore to uphold honor and loyalty, who vowed to protect his lord and kingdom…

Blinded by prejudice and arrogance, I failed to truly see him.

How lonely must he have been? How agonizing? The days spent bearing all that alone, unacknowledged by anyone, must have been miserable beyond measure.

“…I’m not worthy of being a knight.”

Should he just lay down his sword and continue the path of a merchant after his father?

“No.”

…Exactly. It’s just an accident, so don’t dwell on it. No matter what anyone says, don’t crumble. Just endure.

Wesley’s words echoed in his mind: do not break. Though he had erred, collapsing now would only disappoint Wesley once more.

“Right.”

There was no choice but to face it head-on.

If no one truly watches over him… then at least I will.

Without doubt. Without reservation. As he truly is. And to do that…

“Aiyah! Really!”

Rough laughed as he watched Wesley tear at his clothes to staunch the bleeding around his neck.

“Sorry… for causing you worry.”
“Don’t laugh. It suits you.”
“Yes, sir.”

Leaving a confused Rough behind, Wesley focused on the skill menu that had just appeared.

[New skills unlocked!]

Skills?

The menu displayed before him, and he tilted his head in curiosity.

[Skills can be learned using your current CRP points.]

•  [Basic Kingdom Swordsmanship]
•  [Immovable Mind (Fudoshin)]
•  [Steadfast Will]

These are new…

Wesley had thought he knew the game’s skills well, but apart from Basic Kingdom Swordsmanship, all were unfamiliar.

I should check them… but first, he needs treatment.

“Be sure to visit the cathedral,” he reminded himself.

After briefly sorting out the situation, Wesley returned to his room and reviewed the skills:

[Basic Kingdom Swordsmanship]
▶ Increases proficiency in the Kingdom’s traditional swordsmanship, handed down in Liechtenstein.

Even among countless martial arts styles, Kingdom Swordsmanship was renowned for its solid fundamentals. Mastering it alone could handle nearly any combat scenario.

This is obviously essential.

[Immovable Mind (Fudoshin)]
▶ Maintains an unwavering mindset, preventing mental erosion during deification.

Hmm… this looks useful.

He had intended to avoid using powers if possible, but this was worth learning as a precaution.

[Steadfast Will]
▶ Reduces the progress rate of deification.

Hmm… should I learn this too?

Better save 10 points just in case something happens.

[Current CRP: 30]

[Basic Kingdom Swordsmanship]
[Immovable Mind (Fudoshin)]
[Learn this skill?]

This was all he needed for now.

[Learning skill will cost 20 CRP.]

Kingdom swordsmanship will be useful later anyway.

[Skill learned.]

Instantly, an unfamiliar energy surged through his body. Muscles twisted, and unfamiliar images filled his mind.

This…

Basic swordsmanship theory flowed into his consciousness. The violent energy settled, his body and mind stabilized, and Wesley opened his eyes.

“Wow.”

He gasped. The knowledge sparked within him, igniting a desire to test it.

I could cut through anything right now.

Sleepy though he was, Wesley headed straight to the training grounds.

Swoosh… swoosh…

“Phew…”

A man stood there, shirtless, bandages around his neck, swinging a wooden sword.

“…Rough?”
“Your Highness?”
“Why are you here…?”
“Oh, I’m staying here from today onward.”
“Why?”

Rough smiled at him, and Wesley furrowed his brow.

“Here to train?”
“Uh… just… you know…”

He couldn’t admit he wanted to swing a wooden sword after learning basic swordsmanship—that would have meant starting proper training immediately.

“Just out for a stroll.”
“Is that so?”

Rough handed Wesley the wooden sword without hesitation.

“Since you’re out, may I test your skill?”
“…My skill? Now?”
“To gauge your ability, so I can guide you properly.”
“Is it necessary?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“….”

Better just lie down and rest.

“Shall we assume a stance?”

Regret, however, is always late. With a long sigh, Wesley took a natural stance.

“Oh, your posture is decent.”
“…You don’t think I’m a complete idiot, do you?”
“Rumor has it someone added ‘fool’ in front of it too.”
“….”

This man had no filter.

“Kingdom Swordsmanship. Are you familiar?”
“Well… to some extent.”
“Then, show me.”

Rough lightly raised his wooden sword.

“Not difficult, right?”
“Then let’s go.”

With some confidence, Rough pressed forward aggressively.

Thwack!

A thrust aimed at Wesley’s face.

“Hah!”

With a shout, Wesley deflected and countered.

Oh?

Rough felt unexpected weight in Wesley’s sword.

“Good.”

Having never trained properly, Rough had initially restrained his strength.

I can afford a bit more force.

Matching Wesley’s incoming strike, Rough pressed, forcing Wesley’s sword downward.

Am I going to get hit?

Wesley hesitated, wanting to conserve strength, but a single lapse could cost him.

“Next.”

A gap formed between their swords. Rough slipped through, raising his wooden sword for a strike—Wesley barely stepped back in time to evade.

Let’s land at least one hit!

A diagonal slash from Wesley.

Fast.

He had expected subpar skill, but the strike was precise, powerful.

So the rumors were just that—rumors.

Too basic to truly gauge his ability.

Let’s push a little further.

Thwack!

Rough relaxed the sword, moving faster into Wesley’s guard. Wesley’s eyes shone.

Not twice!

He mirrored the upward slash but lunged forward, leaving no angle for Rough to strike.

Impressive…!

Wham!

“Ugh!”

A miscalculation. Rough twisted, hitting Wesley’s back with the sword pommel. Wesley endured, twisting to deliver a counter strike.

Who has a body like this?

Rough thought. Wesley’s response was far stronger than expected, yet he withstood it. Wooden sword or not, the blows were substantial.

“Oof… that hurt.”

Not just a little. He should have apologized profusely. Yet Wesley remained unfazed, leaving Rough unsure how to react.

“Stop holding back. Why do you keep testing me?”
“….”

No mana hearts were used; power was restrained, yet even taking hits felt minor.

Physically, he’s far superior.

Curious now—just how strong was this body?

“Then, I’ll give more strength.”
“Good. That’s the spirit.”

They assumed stance again.

Thwack!

Swords clashed, and…

Crack!

“…Huh?”

Wesley’s wooden sword broke.

“Oh, the sword broke.”

He seemed disappointed, yet smiling.

“Training’s over then, huh?”

Indeed, Wesley had intended to end it after a forceful exchange.

“…Then I’ll rest inside.”
“Yes, go rest. Good work.”

“Right! You too, take a break!”

Wesley left the training grounds lightly, while Rough remained, staring at the shattered wooden sword, hand-carved from countless impacts.

His Highness’ strength… always been this strong?

Even at the tavern, it hadn’t felt like this.

No way…

Wesley trudged back to his room, exhausted.

Wasted energy for no reason.

Even fatigued, he’d been forced into sparring—a cruel exercise.

There’s no time for training…

To prevent the coming ruin ending, preparatory work was essential. First was to retrieve the “bait” that would trigger it. The incident occurred not in Liechtenstein, but in a small territory to the east—making escape urgent.

How should I handle this…

Lost in thought while pacing the hallway, a sudden scream rang out:

“Waah—!”

Charlotte, wearing a strange mask, appeared at the corner.

“…What are you doing?”

Hearing Wesley, she lifted her mask.

“…Oh? It’s you, brother.”
“You didn’t recognize me?”
“Uh… no. Sorry, I scared you…”
“It’s fine. Not startled.”
“Oh, you weren’t startled?”

Her eyes seemed disappointed. She wanted him to be.

“I nearly peed myself from fright.”
“Eh? You… peed?”
“Just kidding. But I was startled.”
“Phew. That was scary, indeed. Glad you’re okay!”
“Charlotte, Your Highness!”

From afar, Emily, wearing the same mask, was running.

“Running with a mask is dangerous!”
“You too, with that injured leg, it’s risky.”

How long since her dislocation, yet she ran like this?

“Oh…! Prince Wesley, I am fine now! Rested enough to recover!”
“Good… that’s a relief.”

Wesley eyed their masks.

“Where did these come from?”
“Sir Lambord gave them.”

Lambord? Only one Lambord I know…

Sir Hani Lambord.

To the east of Liechtenstein.

“He said we must come to the Mask Festival! Brother!”
“Oh ho…”

This was where they would retrieve the bait triggering the ruin ending.