TLRP 25

chapter  25

Fight Like Dogs and Monkeys

Rumors spread in Morgon that the arsonist behind the recent fire was a rebel targeting Crown Prince Cesare. Cesare’s close aides were all convinced of it. Oddly enough, though, this supposed rebel had appeared not in the capital, Sol-Marma, but in a western coastal city. Regardless, that’s what they reported.

But the Emperor had already met the messenger Adeline sent from Brovy Fortress. The report said certain nobles were secretly raising private armies, disguising them as bandits, and inciting border conflicts. Even the officer in charge of Brovy Fortress was implicated. So the real rebels weren’t at Morgon’s harbor at all—they were there.

The Emperor had before him precise reports, thorough confessions, even the witnesses and culprits dragged in. Adeline’s clean handling of the matter had astonished all of the Emperor’s attendants.

He was convinced, as Adeline had said, that there was someone else pulling the strings. Meanwhile, his son Cesare—crying “rebellion!” because some pirate’s fire had singed a few strands of his hair—looked all the more foolish.

The Emperor wanted them to clash. He did not want Adeline to avoid the Crown Prince, nor Cesare to flaunt power by parading nobles who supported him.

If only Cesare had been content with his place, humbly waiting. But he coveted his father’s throne too early. Born in the age of heroes, the ill-fated prince Cesare Dixon tried to overcome his inferiority and chose the worst possible path.

So, if Adeline would not fight, he would force her into battle; and if one side grew too strong, he would lend his weight to the other.

He summoned his old chamberlain and ordered the 13th Knight Division of the Imperial Guard to Morgon—as reinforcements for Adeline.

Vladimir rose at dawn to bathe himself in cold water when he heard Adeline would soon arrive. He scrubbed and scrubbed, until the maids grew frantic—was something wrong?—and even ran to wake up a sleeping Seisia.

Freshly washed, hair combed, and dressed in new clothes Seisia had bought him, Vladimir looked every bit the handsome young man: pale skin, red hair, slightly drooping eyes flushed with excitement. Then he clung to the window, staring south.

“No matter how hard you stare, she won’t get here faster.”

Seisia couldn’t focus on work with Vladimir plastered to the southern window of her office, moaning like a dog that needed to be let out. She was already stressed enough with the Crown Prince—this wizard whining endlessly made it worse.

“Please, just let me be today, Lady.”

“Yes, after all, isn’t the one you’ve been longing for finally coming?”

Seisia’s secretaries thought Adeline was Vladimir’s first love. The truth was different, but Seisia didn’t bother correcting them.

“Vladimir.”
“What.”
“Get away from the window. You’re blocking the sunlight.”
“You’re too old to benefit from sunlight anyway.”
“You little—”
“No swearing. Swearing is bad. Adelle says people who speak kindly attract kind-hearted friends.”

Who was nagging whom? Seisia buried her head in her hands as her secretaries stifled laughter.

“She’s right though.”
“My Lady’s speech is a bit rough.”
“Want to be fired?”
“No! We’d love to work overtime today!”

They were endlessly curious about Adeline Vita—the one their Lord trusted without question, calling her a close friend despite the age gap, and whose legendary life was known across the continent.

“When will she arrive?”
“Even we’re restless just watching Vladimir like that.”
“Shouldn’t we go out to greet her instead?”

Vladimir looked at them with pleading eyes. “I want to go meet her…” His gaze softened their hearts, but Seisia was not the kind to bend easily.

That morning, the city was already unsettled by a fire at the harbor. Only Seisia, her secretaries, and Vladimir carried on as usual in the office.

“Lady!”

Soldiers from the harbor rushed in, breathless.

“What is it?”

“Pirates beyond the coastline. Eighteen warships, and more than thirty transports. All guns aimed at the city.”

The soldiers’ faces were grave. Though pirates in the Saurian Archipelago usually preyed on merchant ships, never had they so boldly threatened land. If eighteen ships attacked, Morgon’s harbor would suffer terribly.

Seisia, however, showed no fear. Dressed in dark trousers, hands in pockets, she grinned like a rogue.

“Always right on time, aren’t they.”
“…What?”
“Let’s go.”

Greeting Adeline could be left to Vladimir and the secretaries. Seisia mounted a horse with the soldiers and declared:

“We can’t stop them alone. Request the Crown Prince’s aid!”

They could stop them—but wouldn’t. Someone else had to fight. Some soldiers exchanged knowing glances.

“Shall we prepare a warship?”
“The grandest one. His Highness will board it.”

She rode off lightly, leaving that crisp order.

And Cesare could not refuse Morgon’s appeal—Seisia had begged him in front of countless witnesses.

“Your Highness! Evil pirates threaten Morgon’s harbor! Please protect these poor citizens! We lack a navy—only you and the Guard can save us!”

“W-what?”

“A warship is ready for you and your soldiers. Please, for our sake, defeat them!”

Bewildered, Cesare boarded the ship. Morgon’s soldiers shouted his name, proclaiming he would save them. He never noticed their twisted smiles, exchanged glances, or Seisia’s sly amusement.

Together, Seisia and Cesare sailed out to face the pirate fleet.

The standoff was tense. The pirates gave no demands at first, only opening and closing their gunports as threats, glaring fiercely from their decks. One wrong move—one stray arrow—and war would break out.

Seisia sat in the cabin, watching Cesare.

He studied a map of the harbor and sketched battle plans. If this were land warfare, they might have been workable. But this was the sea. Cesare was a decent commander, but to seasoned sailors he was an ignorant boy. Seisia nodded enthusiastically at every word, hiding her disdain.

No one knew that Lady Seisia Gulf thought Crown Prince Cesare utterly laughable.

Meanwhile, Adeline’s carriage arrived at Morgon’s manor. She stepped out, instinctively lifting her gaze to the window where a red-haired figure pressed against the glass.

Vladimir.

If this were the secret training ground where they first met, he would have screamed her name and rushed to embrace her. But Seisia must have warned him—he clung silently to the glass.

The Lion King noticed her gaze and followed it. “Adeline. That frog-like fellow—is he the wizard?”

“Frog-like” because Vladimir’s hands and face were smushed against the glass. If he heard, he’d have burst into flames on the spot. Adeline laughed and nodded.

“I’ll introduce you. Come.”

Inside, Seisia’s secretaries greeted her warmly, while the Lion King grew uneasy hearing that Adeline would stay with Seisia, apart from him. Then—

“Adel!”

Vladimir appeared in the sunlit corridor. Heart pounding, he sprinted full speed toward her.

Adeline opened her arms. “My little one, have you been well?”

But just as they were about to embrace, the Lion King stepped forward and caught Vladimir in his arms instead.

Everyone froze.

Even Vladimir, hoisted easily into those strong arms, was dumbstruck. “Huh?”
“What.” said the Lion King, unimpressed.

The two men stared each other down.

“You—who are you?”
“And you’re the mad one, I presume?”

The air grew tense, their eyes locked like predators about to fight. Adeline, meanwhile, burst into helpless laughter, clutching her stomach and wiping tears.

Her laughter rang like rain over a dry desert—bright, intoxicating.

Vladimir bristled. “Let me down!” The Lion King finally set him down, scrutinizing him like prey: pale skin, scrawny frame, no scent of steel or sweat, just soap.

“A child,” he concluded.

“What? You’re the brute of Odium?”
“And you’re the lunatic wizard?”

The insults flew, sparks already igniting their rivalry.

Adeline only laughed harder.

At dinner later, Vladimir railed endlessly: “How could you accept such a shady brute as a comrade? Do you even know his ideals, values, what he seeks to achieve? Is he a tyrant who’ll sacrifice everyone for his ambition?!”

Adeline ignored him, happily devouring the seafood feast with the Lion King. They ate with such appetite that dishes meant for many vanished within minutes.

“Pig,” Vladimir muttered under his breath.

The Lion King heard. He grinned, then reached for milk—only to find it bubbling and steaming in the cup. Vladimir smirked.

“Calling me a child? Look at you, drinking milk.”

The Lion King bared his teeth. “We’ll see.”
“I’ve never met anyone scary who says ‘we’ll see.’”

Their battle had only just begun.

Later, in Seisia’s manor, Adeline asked the secretaries how long Seisia and Cesare would be at sea.

“Three days.”

They both answered without hesitation. Confident that the Crown Prince would return like a beaten dog. Adeline smiled wryly.

Then she asked, “What did Seisia tell you about me?”

The secretaries hesitated, then laughed. “She said… you’re a stubborn princess who proves that a twisted royal can summon a demon king to this land.”

“…What?”

“She said you’re mean, but that’s why you’re reliable—you won’t come home beaten up. That with friends, it’s best to choose one of three: someone strong, someone powerful, or someone rich. You, she said, are even better—you’ll always take her side first.”

Adeline flushed at their teasing.

Out at sea, Cesare stood grimly at the bow. Pirates dragged hostages on deck, demanding Morgon’s warships and gold.

Cesare wavered, torn between sacrificing hostages or yielding.

Seisia dramatically cried out: “Spare the innocent merchants! Take me instead!” Soldiers pretended to hold her back.

Cesare, fearing to seem heartless before the people, ordered negotiations. “Tell them if they release hostages and surrender, their crimes will be pardoned.”

The pirates laughed. They wanted gold, not pardon.

And Adeline, far away, sighed, already knowing:
“They want coin.”

The Lion King nodded grimly.

But the central pirate ship—the Sawtooth Crab—was led by a captain Seisia knew well.

And so, with Morgon’s hostages in danger, pirates demanding ransom, and Seisia with her own secrets, Crown Prince Cesare was cornered, seething with helpless rage.

But he stopped moving at Zakarian’s restraint.

The Lion King narrowly dodged the blazing fireball that came flying at him with terrifying speed. He minimized his movements, but in order to escape the burning domain, he threw himself down and rolled across the ground. Using the rebound, he sprang up to his feet and spoke with pure admiration.

“Impressive.”

“Now you get it? That was just a taste!”

“I see. Then…”

The Lion King nodded, unstrapped the heavy armguard on his arm, and threw it to the ground. Holding only his sword, he turned to Vladimir.

“Use your best attack against me.”

“What?”

“I mean, fight me with the resolve to kill.”

Vladimir hesitated, biting down hard on his lip.

“Are you serious? You’ll really die.”

“Try it, if you can.”

The wide clearing, once cool under the night air, began to heat up rapidly.

Should I kill him?

That was the thought racing through Vladimir’s mind.

Can I really kill him? He’s the King. He’s Adel’s friend. What if he really dies? Will it be my fault? This is a duel, but am I really allowed to go all out? If I kill him, what happens to me?

Eventually, he came to a conclusion: who cares.

The Lion King had told him to use his strongest attack. He must have said it because he was confident he could block it. Vladimir had never unleashed his full power against a human before, but surely nothing would happen. He’s called the continent’s strongest warrior—no way he’d actually die. With that self-justification, Vladimir spoke arrogantly.

“You asked for it. Don’t blame me.”

The Lion King chuckled faintly.

“Do all mages talk this much?”

“I’ll burn you until not even a pinch of ash remains.”

Annoying bastard. Vladimir was serious now. Provoked completely, his pale face flushed red with anger.

Lingo, who had been watching the fight, scratched his head nervously.

“This is going to end badly…”

The night air, once cool, now blazed like a midsummer desert. Heat with no clear source erupted into the air, sizzling and cracking as flames burst into being. Sparks split the darkness, scattering fire across the empty void.

The Lion King focused wholly on Vladimir—his breathing, posture, gaze, even the rhythm of his heartbeat. Nothing escaped him.

While his subordinates were distracted by the flashing sparks, the Lion King watched only Vladimir’s eyes. Eyes that were the same shade of green as his, wavering like a mirage.

Whoosh!
Like a meteor shower, flames poured down on him. No warning, no signal—sudden, overwhelming, and as fast as arrows. The heat alone felt like it could melt flesh.

It felt like the sun had shattered into countless fragments and was raining down on him. Cold sweat ran down his neck, though even the sweat seemed to boil on his skin. The composure vanished from the Lion King’s face.

He raised his sword diagonally to deflect the flames head-on, rolled across the ground again, but even so, he couldn’t block or evade everything. His hair was singed, his armor dented.

One mistake and he’d die. Truly die.

The flames multiplied endlessly, attacking from every direction. Dozens of fire-arrows came screaming toward him. Even a graze would mean a fatal wound.

The Lion King’s figure blurred. Every muscle in his body was taut with explosive tension as he moved at maximum speed.

He kicked off the ground and spun into the air. The flames collided midair, exploding in a dazzling display. At the same time, his sword tore through the rest. A savage whistling sound rang dozens of times as flame after flame burst and died down.

Was this even humanly possible?

Everyone watching thought the same. Vladimir’s magic was monstrous, yet the Lion King, dodging and cutting through it all, seemed not human either.

Most of the attacks were neutralized. Only one last fireball remained, hurtling toward the Lion King. He was midair, falling. Twisting his body, he struck it aside with his sword, ready to subdue Vladimir.

Sssshhhh!

At that moment, someone intervened.

Something thin and sharp flew between them. Both the Lion King and Vladimir, who had been utterly focused on each other, turned toward it.

An arrow. It shot between them with incredible speed, striking the ground. Dirt exploded upward.

“So this is where you were…”

A low, cutting voice rang through the dark. Adelain stepped out of the thicket, bow in hand.

“Adel?”

Vladimir flinched, retreating in panic. When she fixed her sharp gaze on him, he averted his eyes and stared off into the distance, awkwardly clasping his hands behind his back. The hands that had moments before conjured endless fire now hid uselessly.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Really?”

“I just… wanted to test who was stronger…”

Mumbling excuses, Vladimir glanced desperately between the Lion King and Lingo for help. But Lingo, who had been among the Lion King’s men watching the fight, bolted the instant he saw Adelain.

The Lion King looked at Vladimir with an unreadable expression.

The two had fought fiercely in only a short moment. The fire and the Lion King’s movements had been so fast that few truly witnessed the battle. To ordinary eyes, it had only been sword-swings through the air and flashes of fire splitting the dark.

Even after Adelain’s arrival, the Lion King’s men whispered among themselves, too shocked to stop.

“I was the one who suggested it,” said the Lion King.

Adelain turned to him in disbelief. Yet he smiled, holding his hands out in surrender.

“I persuaded the mage to spar. No one was hurt, so it’s fine now. Forgive me for worrying you.”

Her gaze drifted. She saw his sweat-drenched hair, scorched and crumpled armor, the melted armguard discarded on the ground, the charred patches on his shirt. He was a mess. Even his collar and hair were singed.

With a sigh, she spoke.

“You could have died.”

“I realized that. The mage is formidable.”

“I thought you were cautious and composed…”

Who, him? The Lion King’s men asked silently with their eyes.

Adelain soaked a towel in water and handed it to the Lion King before walking to Vladimir.

“I told you before.”

“I know. I remember everything. Never use your power on people. Unless someone truly tries to harm me, I must never harm them… But Adel!”

“Vladimir.”

“He dodged everything! I swear! Not a single hit landed. Not a scratch. He even told me to use my strongest attack. Look! His armor’s just a little damaged. He must have planned this from the start…”

Adelain looked at the Lion King, who only shrugged and smiled.

She didn’t scold. It was useless, and she knew it. Instead, she took them both back to Lady Seysia’s mansion and shoved them into their respective baths. Then she waited in the parlor.

Of course, Vladimir came out first—he hadn’t been burned or dirtied.

When she reached for a towel to dry him, Navi darted forward, snatched it from her hand, and scrubbed his hair roughly.

“Ow!”

“It’s supposed to hurt. You should do things like this yourself.”

Navi wasn’t swayed by Vladimir’s charms. Of course not—she was a former Starkeeper.

His pitiful eyes turned to Adelain, but she was strict.

“Who suggested the duel first?”

“Uh?”

“You did, didn’t you?”

If he told the truth, he’d be punished. But lying to Adelain was impossible. Thinking fast, Vladimir suddenly blurted, “It was him!”

“Who?”

“That guy! The one with those slanted eyes, fake-smiling face, looks like some annoying little bird!”

“Lingo,” Navi muttered.

“Yeah! He coaxed me! Said, ‘Don’t you want to be the continent’s greatest warrior? Beat the Lion King and you will!’ He said swordsmen always have the advantage, but I had magic, so it was worth a shot. He said if I scared him with fire, he’d surrender, and I’d prove warriors are nothing before mages!”

Adelain called her faithful maid.

“Navi.”

“Yes, Your Highness. I’ll fetch Lingo.”

Navi dashed off happily.