Turning-Chapter 826

At the same time, outside the sanctuary where many had evacuated—

Kiole di Diarca crouched in a hidden corner, gripping his head in agony.

“Why... Why the hell do I have to be here like this...?!”

It was truly the worst day imaginable. As Yuder had said, he'd tried to find the Crown Prince and escape—only to find that the spot where the prince should have been was completely empty. No matter how many times Kiole had told him not to move an inch until he came back, the prince had completely ignored him.

If it were just about giving orders to someone else to search, he could've made one of his subordinates do it. But right now, that was impossible. Ever since coming to the South, Kiole had made absolutely sure to keep the Crown Prince’s presence a secret—even going so far as to dismiss the other Imperial Guard escorts who were supposed to come with them. He hadn’t even brought a servant.

It was just the two of them here today—Kiole and the Crown Prince. There was no one else he could delegate to. It was enough to make him insane.

Explosions kept going off somewhere, sending shards flying. His heart raced, cold sweat pouring down his back. Even so, Kiole forced himself to search the area for the Crown Prince.

While everyone else fled, he pressed deeper and deeper into the danger zone, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread. Why, he wondered, was he doing this? What glory was there to gain?

That sense of dread reached its peak the moment he finally found the Crown Prince.

‘Cease this foolishness! I shall prove the Sage’s innocence myself!’

‘Who the hell are you supposed to be?’

‘Out of the way, you powerless brat!’

Before a group of aggressive Awakeners glaring murderously, the Crown Prince—whom Kiole had just desperately searched for—proudly declared his identity.

‘You fools. You dare address me in such a manner and expect to live? I am the Crown Prince of this Empire—! Urk!’

Just as he boldly inserted himself between dangerously armed people releasing violent energies, something pitch-black flew from behind and smacked him hard. The Crown Prince collapsed with a thud.

‘Nice one, Gakein! Looks like he's been brainwashed, so get him far away from here!’

The black object wrapped around the prince’s waist and flung him far off into the distance. His body rolled like a leaf and stopped right in front of Kiole’s feet.

Kiole stood there, mouth agape, unable to say anything. He looked down at the crumpled prince and grabbed his own cheeks, silently screaming inside.

AAAAAAHHHHH!

“Hey, you there! It’s dangerous here—get him out of the way, now!”

But that internal scream was abruptly cut short by someone shouting from the battlefield. Kiole, with shaking hands, awkwardly hoisted the prince onto his back and retreated. Then, when a tiny shard of energy flew past and effortlessly shattered the temple walls and the ground, he screamed again—this time in silence.

This wasn’t a human battle. From Kiole’s perspective, it felt like being caught in the middle of a monster’s rampage.

How was he supposed to escape from something like this? Sure, maybe a freak like someone from the Cavalry could manage it. But he was a regular human being. Shamefully, his strength wasn’t even enough to produce Aura fragments. Carrying the unconscious prince out of here on his back was clearly impossible.

In the end, he retreated to a narrow space between buildings that seemed at least relatively safe. He judged it the best possible option. The moment he set the prince down, his legs gave out and his whole body started trembling—not from exertion, but from raw fear and shock.

This is insane. Absolutely insane...!

He couldn’t believe what he had just done. Not only had he run around a battlefield with no other attendants or guards, he had carried the Crown Prince through the heart of a monster war zone.

The old Kiole, the one who prized his reputation, his dignity, and his life, would never have done something like this. If this wasn’t loyalty, then what was? His thoughts swung wildly between trembling admiration for what he had accomplished and bitter resentment at how he’d ended up in this mess.

Why me... Why the hell am I doing this...? It’s all because of my father, who dumped the job of being a royal escort on me... No, it’s because of His Highness, who broke his promise... No—damn it, it’s all because of those damn con artists!

And as always, his internal suffering led to the same place: a petty desire for self-preservation, to flee and be comfortable again.

Moving around anymore would be a strategic mistake. The Cavalry freak and Duke Peleta will show up soon anyway. Holding out until then is smarter than charging in recklessly...

He told himself he was making a wise and rational decision—not just paralyzed by fear. And, believing that, he began to feel quite pleased with his own judgment.

He never realized that his rationalization made him sound like he believed in Yuder, Duke Peleta, and the Cavalry more than anyone else.

Then, the unconscious Crown Prince groaned.

“Y-Your Highness. Are... are you alright?!”

“......”

Kiole flinched and asked quickly, but got no answer. It looked like it would be a while before the prince regained full consciousness. Whatever that black object was, it had knocked him out cold.

If the prince had been awake, he would've screamed bloody murder about catching the person who dared strike him—and most likely outed his identity trying to defend the Sage. In that sense, maybe it was actually better if he didn’t wake up until everything was over...

...No. What am I even thinking!

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Relieved that the prince wasn’t conscious? Kiole shook his head furiously and pushed the wicked thought away. No matter how desperate the situation was, a royal escort shouldn’t be thinking like that.

Explosions still boomed in the distance. Kiole carefully laid the prince down and adjusted his posture. Earlier, in his panic, he’d just dropped him like a corpse—and if the prince saw that, he probably would’ve slapped him.

Still... what the hell are those lunatics doing out there? What are they after?

Now that he had calmed a little, Kiole finally began to form some real questions.

Yuder Aile, that monster from the Cavalry, had told him earlier that there would be con-artist healers and even more dangerous people showing up. And now, thinking back, Kiole remembered seeing the Sage’s face during the prince’s extraction.

Thankfully, the Sage had looked completely overwhelmed at the time and didn’t seem to notice Kiole... But seriously, why would he show up to the funeral of House Hern’s Second Son?

Could it be... Did he know the Crown Prince was in the South? No, impossible. Then is he here to mess with one of the attending nobles? Or maybe he’s targeting the Cavalry?

Shockingly, Kiole’s guess hit quite close to the truth.

Father told that bastard to prove his innocence and power by bringing back results... but this? No—if anyone could pull something like this, it’s that fraud. Because he’s a fraud!

Then what about the other Awakeners who were attacking the Sage?

Again, Kiole reached a swift conclusion.

Must be victims of his past scams. Judging by how skilled he was at it, he’s probably scammed tons of people before!

That, too, wasn’t entirely wrong—though Kiole himself had no way of knowing how right he was.

Still, to pull something like this at the funeral of a member of one of the Four Great Houses? If Father finds out, there’s no way he’ll ever take that bastard back into his service. Thank goodness for that, at least!

Kiole was smiling at the Sage’s misfortune when he heard footsteps rapidly approaching.

Is it them?!

He shrank down and instinctively pulled the Crown Prince into hiding, holding his breath as the footsteps passed. He even clutched the hilt of his sword, ready to ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) draw if necessary.

Just as his nerves reached their breaking point—

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“AAAH!”

The voice didn’t come from ahead, where the footsteps had gone—but from right behind him. It was slow, low, and heavy.

Kiole leapt in terror, swinging his sword wildly with an inarticulate shriek—but his opponent dodged it with ease and disabled him with a mere gesture.

The sword jerked out of his hand with a familiar, horrifying sensation—his weapon no longer responding to his will. Kiole immediately recognized it.

“You—YOU! Why do you always appear behind people?!”

“The question’s mine first. If you found the Crown Prince, why haven’t you gotten out of here? Are you hurt? Or just scared?”

Yuder Aile asked with a cold face. Even without the slightest emotion on his expression, Kiole instinctively knew—through some unspoken sixth sense—that Yuder thought he was being absolutely pathetic.

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