The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate-Chapter 161. Pajar Sultanate (1)

The three of them continued walking at a leisurely pace, exchanging conversation.

Perhaps because they were escorted by the Fourth Prince himself, no one seemed particularly suspicious of Caron. If anything, all eyes were on Seria. Unlike Caron, who had concealed his identity, Seria had openly declared herself as the Saintess. Naturally, she stood out.

They walked on until they reached their destination—a dazzling palace adorned with gold. A contingent of heavily armored soldiers stood guard at the entrance, maintaining a strict watch.

As soon as Samir arrived, the soldiers bowed respectfully and exclaimed, "Greetings, Prince Samir!"

"You've been working hard," Samir said. "I've come to see my brother."

"You may enter at any time, Your Highness," one of the guards replied. "However, we cannot allow your guests to pass. We ask for your understanding."

Caron's expression stiffened slightly, but Samir simply raised a hand, as if he had expected this.

"The Sultan has granted permission," he said. "I personally invited them to treat my brother."

"We have received no such orders—"

Before the soldier could finish, Samir's expression darkened, and his voice took on a sharp edge. "Are you saying that I, a prince of the Sultanate, am lying?" he asked coldly. "I cannot overlook such insolence."

His firm demeanor was unlike the gentle, refined man he usually presented himself to be, but it had the intended effect.

The soldier took a step back and bowed his head, then said, "I deeply apologize for my doubts. Please, forgive me."

Samir's expression softened as he placed a reassuring hand on the soldier's shoulder. "I understand. Your loyalty to my brother is commendable. I'll overlook it this time. Now then, honored guests, let us proceed."

What a clever move, Caron thought. He had never seen Samir exchange words with the Sultan regarding this matter, so he wondered when the prince had gotten such permission.

Leading Caron and Seria inside, Samir guided them through a grand corridor lined with opulent decorations.

"Your Highness," Caron said.

"Go ahead," Samir replied.

"When exactly did you get permission from the Sultan? I don't recall seeing you contacting the Sultan," Caron asked.

With a confident voice, Samir answered, "I didn't."

"...Hah."

"This was the fastest way," Samir explained. "Even if I vouched for you, do you think they would have allowed us to meet my brother—who is bedridden—without the Sultan's explicit consent?"

Caron rubbed his temples, thinking, He really just went for it?

He had assumed Samir was a rational man, so he hadn't thought the prince was going to take such a reckless gamble. A sharp mind paired with the courage to make bold bets at critical moments—now this was someone truly dangerous.

"Remember this, Caron Leston," Samir said gravely. "This is a gamble that I have staked my life on as well."

"I'd imagine so," Caron replied. "Strictly speaking, this is treason, isn't it?"

"Exactly. So if you want to live too, I suggest you save my brother," Samir said. "No matter what the cost, as long as he opens his eyes, nothing else matters."

Before they knew it, they had arrived at the prince's chamber. Standing at the door, Samir took a deep breath before slowly pushing it open and stepping inside with cautious reverence.

Caron followed closely behind, entering the Crown Prince's chambers.

For an outsider—especially one without permission—to set foot in a royal's chamber, let alone the Crown Prince's, was a grave offense. Under normal circumstances, it would be considered an assassination attempt, punishable by death.

"Brother, I'm here," Samir said.

Compared to the opulent corridors they had passed through, the chamber was strikingly austere. For the room of a crown prince, its decor was almost too modest. Aside from the essential furnishings required for daily life, there wasn't a single luxury item to be found.

From that alone, Caron could guess what kind of man the prince was. Moreover, the sight of his half-brother worrying with such a tearful expression clearly showed what kind of life the Crown Prince had lived.

He seems to have been a good man, Caron thought.

The first impression wasn't bad. Dark hair, black eyes—a strikingly handsome face.

But more importantly—

"It really is dark mana," Seria muttered.

Just as Seria said, the presence of dark mana surrounding the prince was unmistakable.

Samir gave a small nod before motioning to the attendants who had followed them inside. He ordered, "The treatment will begin now. Leave us."

The attendants bowed and silently exited, leaving only four people in the room—Samir, Caron, Seria, and the Crown Prince.

"How does he seem?" Samir asked.

Seria's expression darkened as she said, "It's not good. It seems the dark mana has already seeped into his soul, and that someone placed a curse on him. May I examine him more closely?"

"Please, Saintess," Samir said.

As agreed, Caron stepped back, keeping to his role in the contract. Seria would make the first attempt. If she failed, then he would step in.

What do you think, Guillotine? Caron asked internally.

"That's the dark mana of Sloth. Just like the Saintess said, it looks like a curse, but the situation isn't great. He's been afflicted for a long time. Even for her, this won't be easy," Guillotine replied.

At that moment, a brilliant light flared. A pair of wings unfolded from Seria's back, and a radiant white glow enveloped her entire body.

It was pure, untainted divinity.

Even Caron couldn't help but be impressed by the sheer clarity of her holy power as it surged into the prince's body.

"Please..." Samir said as he clenched his fists tightly. His eyes locked on the scene before him, and his face betrayed the desperation in his heart.

Time passed.

And then—

"...It's not easy," Seria said, shaking her head. Beads of sweat had formed on her pale face. She explained, "The curse has been in place for far too long. And this... This is the dark mana of the Malevolent Emperor. It's the Demon King of Sloth. There is no doubt."

"Is there truly no way?" Samir asked.

"The curse has fused with his body. If I attempt purification by force, his body might not survive the strain," Seria answered.

Her diagnosis was precise. It was exactly as Guillotine had said.

Seria exhaled softly, her gaze falling on the unconscious Crown Prince. She suggested, "If we could obtain the First Flame kept in the Vatican... That holy relic might work. The First Flame is a relic that only burns dark mana."

"...I've heard that you can bring even the dead back to life," Samir said quietly. "And yet, is it so difficult that you cannot undo this curse either?"

"My apologies, Prince Samir," Seria said, lowering her head.

Then, slowly, she turned to Caron. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said, "Mr. Caron, I leave it to you."

Perhaps it was just Caron's imagination, but for some reason, there was an undeniable certainty in her voice.

"What can a troublemaker like me do when even the Saintess has failed?" Caron asked flatly.

"There must be a way for you," Seria replied with quiet certainty.

Caron narrowed his eyes and said, "That look in your eyes... It seems you know something."

"The Radiant Light has spoken," Seria answered.

"Is it like a revelation? Well... Not that it really matters," Caron said.

With a slight nod, he turned to Samir, his expression unreadable. He asked, "So, is it my turn now?"

"Do you think you'll be able to do it?" Samir asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.

"That's something we'll only know once I try," Caron answered nonchalantly.

Samir looked down at his older brother with a heavy heart.

Day by day, his brother was getting weaker. The royal physicians had long since given up, and rumor had it that funeral preparations had already begun.

Something has to be done, Samir thought. That was why he had brought them into the palace in the first place.

"Caron Leston... Please, save my brother..." Samir clenched his fists and gave a firm nod.

At his response, Caron smiled as if he had been waiting for those words. He said, "Well, now that my client has given me permission, I'll get started."

Shing!

Caron drew Guillotine from its sheath. The blade, glimmering with a dark blue sheen, pulsed with an eerie light.

Samir shuddered involuntarily. Even now, he had yet to grow accustomed to that sword. A killing aura radiated from it, and just looking at it made his entire body stiffen.

"Y-You're really going to use that sword... on my brother's body?" Samir stuttered.

"I already told you several times," Caron sighed.

"...I thought it was just a figure of speech," Samir said.

"I don't like to beat around the bush when I speak," Caron said with a shrug. "But if you want me to stop, I can stop. It's your choice, dear client. So... What will it be? Should I continue or not?"

Samir swallowed hard and wondered if there was even a point in hesitating now. If they did nothing, his brother would soon pass away. He refused to just stand by and watch it happen.

"...Continue," Samir said at last, forcing the word out.

Barely suppressing a grin, Caron sauntered toward the unconscious Crown Prince. He said lightly, "Pardon me, Your Highness. This will sting a little."

Shhk!

The dark blue blade of Guillotine pierced just slightly into the prince's right thigh.

And in that instant—

"SCREEEEEEEEECH!"

A terrible scream echoed through the room.

But it wasn't the Crown Prince who screamed. The wail erupted from the wound itself.

"Owner, I'm starting now," Guillotine said.

Devour the dark mana only, Caron ordered.

"That's all there is in here anyway. Owner, I'll guide you, so keep your focus and follow my lead," Guillotine said.

Worry about yourself, Caron shot back.

A thick, black, slime-like substance began oozing from the Crown Prince's body. In an instant, the dark substance twisted into the shape of a spear and shot toward Caron's throat.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

But Seria didn't stand idly by. She whispered, "Dear Light."

Fwoooosh!

A brilliant radiance poured from the Saintess, surrounding Caron in its glow. The black slime barely had time to react before it was instantly reduced to fine, dark ash upon touching the light.

Thanks to her intervention, Caron could focus entirely on the Crown Prince.

I see it, Caron thought.

A serpent lay coiled deep within the Crown Prince. Its scales were as dark as night, and when it sensed Caron's presence, it bared its fangs in a silent snarl.

Whoosh!

Caron's mana surged forward, mercilessly lashing toward the serpent.

The Crown Prince had long since become the creature's den. But Caron's mana tore through its nest, consuming every trace of dark mana in its path.

"Owner, pour in more mana," Guillotine requested.

Mana flooded into the Crown Prince through Guillotine. Soon, a fifth of the mana had settled in the core.

Whoosh!

A dark blue light began to radiate from the prince's body, pulsating like waves in a storm.

I don't think he can last much longer... Caron thought.

The Crown Prince's body was already frail from being unconscious for so long. And on top of that, he had never trained in mana. So there was no way he could endure this overwhelming power. Dragging this battle out would only work against them.

I have to end this in one strike, Caron thought as he gathered all his mana into a single point.

There was only one target: The black serpent coiled around the prince's heart.

A massive wave surged toward the serpent. The dark mana that was spread throughout the Crown Prince's body struggled in vain, but the wave devoured it all without mercy.

"Owner, just a little more," Guillotine said.

At last, the tide reached the serpent. It twisted and writhed in an attempt to escape, but—

"Kyaaaaa—!"

It was consumed, utterly and completely.

...It's done, Caron thought.

The source of the curse had been destroyed. All that remained was to absorb every last trace of dark mana lingering within the Crown Prince.

But just then—

"...Owner, we have a problem," Guillotine said.

"I felt it too—" Caron began, but was interrupted.

BOOOOOM!

The doors to the chamber exploded into splinters, sending a thick cloud of dust billowing into the room.

And from within that haze, a woman emerged, stepping forward with unhurried grace. "The Sultan has decreed," she said, her voice devoid of emotion, "That all traitors must be torn to pieces."

Her gaze shifted between Caron and the Crown Prince. More precisely, she focused on Caron, whose sword was still embedded in the Crown Prince's thigh.

An 8-Star Knight, Caron thought.

There was only one woman among the 8-Star knights of the Pajar Sultanate: Nadia Seika, a guardian of the Sultan's royal bloodline, also known as the Scorpion.

Caron forced a grin and addressed her, saying, "I think there's been a misunderstanding—"

"I have seen the treason with my own eyes," Nadia interrupted coldly. "I will deliver judgment here and now."

Flames of crimson mana ignited along the thin blade in her grasp as she said, "You are to be executed immediately."

Without another word, Nadia lunged at Caron.

But at that moment—

"Wait!" Caron yelled out.

"...What?" Nadia responded.

"Do not move recklessly, Dame Nadia," Caron said. He gripped Guillotine tightly and halted her advance. Then, in a voice dripping with malice, he said, "You really should hear me out first."

"There is no negotiation with traitors!" Nadia shouted.

"The Crown Prince is in my hands. Are you really going to act without thinking? Just stand there and listen to what I have to say. If you keep pressing me, I might... slip up. You understand, don't you? Heh," Caron said.

"You insolent—!" Nadia bellowed.

As Caron dangled the Crown Prince as a hostage, both Samir and the Saintess turned pale.

This crazy bastard... Samir thought.

O Great Light... are You certain this is the one You have chosen? Seria wondered.

And just like that, a bomb had gone off in the royal palace.