The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character-Chapter 68: Phantom Thief Dauphin (12). The Approaching Time Limit

The Eizern Empire.

Capital: Calastia.

Golden Cloud Palace, residence of the Crown Prince.

“But don’t you think that magical energy cultivation stuff could be dangerous if it spreads too easily?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, it gives normal people the power to become strong, right? If every commoner in the kingdom suddenly had the strength of a knight, wouldn’t that put not just the kingdom but even this empire at risk?”

At Lucidra’s question, the Crown Prince stroked his chin briefly before answering.

“The Empire teaches magical energy cultivation even to regular soldiers, you know. Ah, not conscripts, of course—only professional troops. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“...”

“Magical energy cultivation isn’t some cheat code you just click and boom, you’re strong. Some people master sword energy in just a year, while others spend over a decade and barely manage some clumsy physical reinforcement. If the same technique yields wildly different results depending on talent, then it’s more efficient to teach it to as many people as possible and raise the ones who excel.”

Unlike the nobles of the Birka Kingdom—who only pass such techniques to their blood relatives or retainers raised from childhood to obey—the Empire broadens the pool.

The more people try it, the more likely you’ll find someone with real talent.

And even if they don’t hit the jackpot, even the worst soldier becomes slightly better than he was before, which is still a net gain for national strength.

So why doesn’t the Birka Kingdom do the same?

“Because the whole country’s a mess. They’re terrified of handing power to the common people.”

The Birka Kingdom is riddled with problems.

You’d wonder how it hasn’t already collapsed, with all the chaos and dysfunction running rampant.

And ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) yet—it hasn’t.

Because those in power monopolize violence. Because fear keeps the people in check.

“So, your goal is to spread magical energy cultivation and give people the power to fight back?”

“Hmm. Not quite. That’s a bonus, not the main objective. Though I won’t deny it’s helpful.”

The Crown Prince chose his words carefully.

As if what he was about to say next belonged not to the heir of an empire... but to a phantom thief from Sarnos and a guard trying to catch him.

***

“It’s Dauphin! He’s back!”

“See? I knew it! There’s no way Dauphin would go down that easy!”

Three days after Dahlia stopped him.

People had started murmuring that he must’ve drowned for real—but Dauphin blew those rumors away in dramatic fashion, pulling off another flashy heist. The nobles cursed his name, the commoners cheered.

But that didn’t last long.

The very next night, emboldened by his momentum, Dauphin attempted another heist—only to be foiled by Dahlia, who had stayed hidden while one of her soldiers posed as her decoy.

“Oh-ho! So you’re finally using your head? I have to admit, charging in blindly all the time did make you seem a bit like a wild boar!”

“Who are you calling a wild boar?!”

BOOM!

A small bridge was blown to bits in the ensuing clash, but both the target and their property were unharmed. In terms of results, the victory clearly went to Dahlia.

Not that Dauphin lost every time.

“This time, I’ll catch—!”

CRACK! SPLASH!

“C-Captain!!”

“Hahaha! One must always watch their step at night, my dear!”

One time, he tricked Dahlia into falling into a river and used the distraction to escape.

Another time, he lured her away with a decoy illusion while targeting someone else entirely.

“The current score is 20 to 14, right? Seems like Dauphin’s got the edge.”

“Yeah, but the guard’s getting better too—faster responses, sharper planning. And the more names Dauphin crosses off that list, the harder his job gets.”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I cracked open a beer—and right there on the rooftop, I saw Dauphin and the 8th Platoon Captain chasing each other. Better than any show!”

“You lucky bastard! I’ve never seen them live!”

At this point, many citizens of Lebruk had started treating the Dauphin-Dahlia rivalry like a public spectacle—some even staying up late just to watch it play out.

To the guard force, it was utterly baffling.

“Is this... really the right public reaction? We’re the city guard, and he’s a thief, and people are treating it like a sport?”

“Hey, it’s better than when they hated us for stopping him. Sure, some still glare at us like we’re the bad guys—but it’s way better than before.”

Dauphin’s crimes were, from a purely tactical standpoint, wildly inefficient. And flashy as hell.

Sometimes he descended from the sky using an enormous kite.

Sometimes he walked across the surface of the river as if it were land.

Sometimes he used special paint to make buildings look invisible—or made phantom buildings appear where none existed.

At first, he only struck at night. But over time, his hours became unpredictable.

There were even incidents where he abducted his targets in broad daylight, while people were out working and going about their day.

His theatrical, showy methods drew public fascination. Ironically, even the image of the guard—his opposition—began to shift.

From oppressive villains blocking a righteous vigilante... to lovable rivals who always got outwitted.

The people on the list hounded Dahlia and the guard for results—but her reputation didn’t take a hit.

They weren’t idiots. They tried beefing up their own security, gathering together in one place, even hiring knights from their estates to catch Dauphin.

But every effort ended in failure.

Every time they tried, they lost.

Dahlia, on the other hand, was the only one who could at least go toe-to-toe with him.

No one needed to ask who was more dependable.

The public swayed between cheering for one or the other, and even the guards who used to look down on the 8th Platoon began making efforts to get friendly.

And Dahlia, experiencing all this, began opening up more and more to him.

“Honestly, it’s shameless. These people who used to mock me behind my back—hell, not even behind my back, right to my face—now they flip the moment they think I’m doing well.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“Isn’t that just proof you’re doing well, Guard Lady?”

“If that’s proof, I’d rather go without it.”

Dahlia hadn’t always been like this.

She didn’t visit his house every single day off.

Sometimes she only made small talk, nothing deep.

There were days when opening up felt self-indulgent, maybe even disgraceful.

But once a dam cracks, the water flows freely.

And the more time she spent with him, the more naturally Dahlia’s feelings followed.

He always listened calmly.

Even when she grumbled or vented or showed her worst sides, he never changed. He responded openly and honestly, without judgment.

Duty. Mission. Discipline. Order.

She’d wrapped herself in those chains for years. Suppressed every dark or selfish emotion that rose within her.

And now, here was someone she could speak freely to. Someone with whom she didn’t have to pretend.

That kind of relationship... was more addicting than any drug.

Maybe that’s why...

She spoke words she never would have allowed herself to say before. Words the old Dahlia would’ve rather died than admit.

“Sometimes—just sometimes, really, really rarely—I think... I wish this whole situation would just keep going.”

He said nothing. Simply waited in silence, listening.

Not pressing, not judging. Just watching her with calm eyes. And that quiet, patient gaze opened a space for Dahlia to say what she could never admit in front of anyone else.

“The Guard used to ignore me. I was always an outsider. But now I have a real role—an important one. The soldiers who used to suffer under my poor leadership are being treated better. The upper-class snobs who used to run wild are finally watching their behavior. The other squads are working harder, afraid of how it looks to their superiors. And even the people on the list... some of them have started asking their victims for forgiveness on their own.”

There were still those who cheered for Dauphin and treated Dahlia like the villain.

There were still those who scolded her for not catching a single thief quickly enough.

But even so.

When she looked at the city of Lebruk as a whole, it felt... lighter. Like a bit of gloom had lifted, replaced with energy.

No matter how hard Dahlia had worked, how many criminals she arrested, the city had never seemed to change before.

But now... it felt like something was shifting. Slowly, yes—but moving in the right direction.

And so, just a little—just a tiny, tiny bit—Dahlia couldn’t stop herself from thinking it.

Maybe Dauphin was right after all.

Ashamed of herself for even entertaining the thought, Dahlia covered her face with both hands.

“...It’s pathetic. I’ve always preached about law and order. Told people not to use the wrong methods, not to incite others with lies or theatrics. And yet, now that it feels like things are getting better thanks to him... I find myself ready to throw away everything I stood for.”

The beliefs she had clung to so fiercely—her sense of duty, of justice—suddenly felt hollow.

Was I ever really protecting the law because I believed it was right?

Or did I just think there was no other way—just tell myself it was right so I wouldn’t have to face the fact that I was giving up?

Maybe I didn’t want to fight in a different way. Maybe I just used other people as excuses so I could avoid the truth.

Her words were almost a confession.

And at last, he spoke.

“Guard Lady.”

Yes. That was what he always called her—Guard Lady.

Though surely he knew her name by now, he had never once said it aloud.

Nor had Dahlia ever asked for his.

She only ever called him you... or Jester.

As if it were some unspoken agreement between them.

“Dauphin’s methods are extreme. He’s a rogue—a man who imposes his own justice from outside the law.”

“That’s exactly why people find him thrilling. That’s why they cheer for him. But Guard Lady, you must remember one thing.”

“A thief can break the system—but a thief can’t build a new one.”

Dahlia held her breath.

“If a system becomes so warped, rusted, and broken that it only brings misery—then yes, it should be torn down.”

“But that doesn’t mean society doesn’t need rules at all. When someone breaks the system, someone else has to step up and build something better in its place.”

“And thieves... are powerless in that task. Because the very idea of a thief is this: ‘My own justice matters more than the law.’”

“Who would ever obey a law written by someone who refuses to follow laws themselves?”

Dahlia’s eyes drifted, almost involuntarily, to his right arm.

Every time he spoke like this—like he was Dauphin—she went through the same internal process. The same mental reassurance.

It’s fine.

When Dauphin broke his right arm, this man had no trouble using his.

So they’re not the same.

Even if there were some suspicious coincidences afterward, even if it might be possible for someone like Dauphin to have a tool that let him fake it, it couldn’t be.

They had to be different.

“Please don’t be so hard on yourself. You can do something the Phantom Thief Dauphin never could.”

“...I’m not that great a person.”

“No. You are. At least, in my eyes.”

The man gave a light shrug and added with a smile, “Of course, if you say my judgment doesn’t count, I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

Dahlia shot him a glare of pure exasperation.

How was she supposed to deny it after he said that?

That conversation ended their meeting for the day.

Her mind was still full of conflicting thoughts—but Dahlia gave her head a firm shake, brushing away the doubts.

There would be other times to talk.

The questions could wait.

Or so she thought.

“The Count’s knights are coming.”

The next day, the company commander muttered the words like a man preparing for death.

And Dahlia... froze.

She had been ignoring it—putting it off.

But now, the moment of reckoning was approaching.