9th Grade Civil Servant In Another World Chapter 187 - The Young Prince (3)

“…Sir! Ringmaster! How could you do such a thing!”

When consciousness returned, the child nearly screamed from the pain felt in every corner of his body.

But his mouth wouldn’t open, so he concentrated his mind and tried to push out the thick, viscous poison circulating through his blood vessels.

The child was born with magical blood.

Mages from noble families like his were educated from childhood in how to circulate and protect their entire bodies with mana. Those trained to the extreme could unconsciously emit mana to protect their bodies even while unconscious.

The child was the same. Even while wandering after his house fell, he had secretly practiced mana circulation every day. Without that, he would have surely died.

“The prince suffered an unfortunate accident. When we should be holding a funeral for him, you want to sell his corpse! And to that mad mage, no less!”

“That’s right, Ringmaster, this isn’t proper.”

Ah, I must have looked dead. Did my heart stop?

The child muttered to himself while listening to the troupe members’ voices.

“But.”

The ringmaster sighed and mumbled hesitantly.

“We’re already on the verge of bankruptcy. You know that. The world is getting more dangerous, and there are more and more lords who are wary of outsiders. With the prince dead, things will only get harder from now on. In such circumstances, if there’s someone willing to pay a fair price…”

“That’s sophistry! No matter what, this is wrong!”

“You there.”

The ringmaster’s voice grew heavy.

“Didn’t you say you have a woman to marry? You said you needed money. And you too. I know you send hospital fees to your mother every month.”

The ringmaster pointed at the troupe members one by one, cutting sharply.

Most of the people here hadn’t lived particularly good lives. Alcohol, drugs, poor families, and uncertain futures kept them busy struggling with money.

“And let’s be honest with each other. Haven’t we done our duty by the prince? We fed, housed, and even paid wages to a child who would be called a monster bastard if he went outside.”

“That’s…”

“Where has the prince ever received such love? It was more than he deserved, considering that bizarre personality of his.”

“He did have some creepy aspects. Actually, quite a lot. But he wasn’t a bad kid.”

The troupe members’ voices grew one by one.

“He said he was brave, but that wasn’t bravery. It was like, like…”

“Like he couldn’t feel emotions.”

“Exactly.”

They began to share moments when they had felt fear toward the child.

The child who would normally laugh and cry suddenly had his expression disappear. He would watch the other person’s reactions and quickly change his expression and actions accordingly.

There had been an incident where a deranged audience member, drunk, broke into the practice tent and died falling from a ladder.

Even seeing that horrible sight, the child had been unaffected. He briefly looked startled and let out a scream that was obviously fake.

During conversations, they constantly felt something was off. The ‘prince’ would just smile whenever that happened.

In countless other moments too.

They had felt an alien distance from the child.

“I was scared of that kid too. It was like looking at a little demon instead of a person. I had no choice since he was our troupe’s star attraction…”

“Me too. I couldn’t treat him carelessly, so I tried to become friends with him somehow, but I just couldn’t break down that wall.”

The child mentally organized the new facts he had learned.

The circus troupe people hadn’t accepted him.

They too had felt alienation, discomfort, and fear toward the child. His acting had been exposed long ago. Everyone had noticed.

However, they were too ‘good’ to despise and abuse the child, so they did their best to treat him normally.

‘Good people.’

The ‘good people’ that ordinary humans easily, thoughtlessly speak of—perhaps this was their limit.

He didn’t feel betrayed. He was just a little angry.

The child knew very well that he was a genius.

He never forgot anything he saw, heard, or experienced once.

At first he thought it was natural, but observing his parents and servants, he realized that wasn’t the case.

Not everyone could recite books they’d only glanced at, or excel at sports they’d learned for the first time.

He understood everything.

The principles of nature, the languages of various countries, history, philosophy, and all the technologies that comprised civilization.

However, only one species—’humans’—remained beyond his understanding.

That’s why he failed to see through the troupe members’ pretense and kindness, making such a foolish mistake.

To suffer such an absurd betrayal just because of that.

After talking for a while, the ringmaster and troupe members finally agreed to split the money from selling the child’s corpse. Then they held a drinking party to forget their guilt and awkwardness.

Meanwhile, the child slowly sat up.

Where the child had been lying was a warehouse in the tent, hidden by curtains. Lifting the curtain slightly, he could see the disheveled, drunken people and the wine barrel in front of him.

The child’s bluish body had mostly returned to normal after the detoxification was nearly complete, except for his hands.

The child bit his hand hard. He let the flowing blood drip into the wine barrel.

The next day, the circus troupe collapsed.

The ringmaster and all the troupe members were found dead, apparently poisoned by someone, and the ringmaster’s office safe had been completely emptied.

After a police investigation, the troupe member called the ‘prince’ was wanted as a suspect. However, no bounty was placed, nor did anyone step forward to actively search for him.

The fall of a wandering circus troupe wasn’t that important an event.

Especially during chaotic times like these.

***

Two years had passed since the ‘circus troupe poisoning incident.’ The case was completely buried, forgotten among the flood of crime news along with the fact that such people had ever existed, in the year 1850.

The child was in the royal castle. Having been selected as a knight, wearing a pure white uniform.

“From today, you are inducted into this nation’s greatest knightly order! As knights, hone your wisdom, courage, and loyalty to serve His Majesty the King flawlessly!”

“Sir!!”

At the instructor’s booming shout, teenage boys not yet adults struck their chests with their fists and answered in unison.

The first day of entering the knight dormitory.

The child unpacked his belongings in his room and looked in the mirror.

His height had grown frighteningly over the past two years, already taller than most adults, with elegantly stretched limbs and a muscled body. His expression had become natural enough that no one would suspect anything, and his eyes were peaceful.

The ringmaster’s talk of bankruptcy had been a complete lie.

The money the child found in the safe was enough to rent a small room in central Lüdelheim. Plus two years’ worth of living expenses.

The child practiced swordsmanship and magic daily, doing handstands in his room to build his strength.

When training was over, he would go to the park to observe and imitate people. How their pupils moved when startled, scared, or angry, and how their body movements sped up or slowed down.

He practiced constantly, talking to himself when no one was around.

“Hello!”

“Nice to meet you.”

“My dream is to become a splendid knight!”

He practiced until he could produce a cheerful, charming voice, never stopping even when his vocal cords were torn and bleeding.

When he wasn’t doing that, he wandered the streets picking up newspapers to read. To check on the declining state of the country.

Leopold III, who had ascended the throne five years ago, had been praised as a person with no particular flaws during his days as a prince. The only slight regret was that he was born the youngest.

Indeed, he wasn’t an ordinary person. After the crown prince was poisoned, he had eliminated all his brothers within two months and seized the throne.

The problem was that he didn’t use that ability to govern the state. Leopold III had focused solely on power struggles since putting on the crown.

Doubling the size of the Royal Knights from about fifty to one hundred was also part of strengthening royal authority.

Nobles wanting to flatter the new king sent their sons and daughters to the tests, but Leopold III preferred commoners over those of high birth.

‘So that’s why I was chosen.’

In the recent public examination, the child had distinguished himself and was the first to receive the king’s selection.

‘This is the first step now.’

The child muttered to himself while adjusting his pure white uniform cap.

When he left the devastated circus troupe, the child decided never to trust people again. And he set a goal.

I will build my own castle.

One that no one can invade,

And to which I will never submit.

Where I can exist as myself.

Joining the knightly order wearing an elaborate mask was his first challenge toward that goal.

The child finished inspecting his uniform in the mirror and finally pinned a nameplate to his chest.

Friedrich Kruger

A self-invented name that evoked no family associations glittered in gold on the black nameplate.

***

The first seven years in the knightly order were nothing if not tedious.

Daily repetition of grueling training.

Basic physical conditioning and sword practice, magic training, plus surviving alone in vast forests, traversing 50,000 setin distances within ten days, enduring for days in the wild during midsummer and midwinter, surviving pits filled with centipedes and snakes, and so on.

The training was vicious enough to show why King Leopold had mercilessly rejected noble family children.

At least bonds, love, and friendship sprouted within the knightly order through the hellish training.

People never stopped gathering around Kruger in particular. Whether women or men.

Kruger selected those among them who would be useful in the future and filtered out those who wouldn’t like chaff.

Those who didn’t receive his selection died, were injured, or had their hearts broken during training and gave up becoming knights. No one noticed the orchestration behind it all.

In 1857, when Kruger turned twenty-two.

When training finally ended and the knight investiture ceremony was held, less than thirty percent of the original candidates remained.

At the ceremony, Kruger was able to face King Leopold again after seven years.

“Your name was, that’s right, Friedrich Kruger.”

The king, grinning with particularly glittering black eyes, patted his shoulder.

“You’ve finally made it this far! I’ve never seen talent as outstanding as yours. Will you swear loyalty to me?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I will offer my soul to protect Your Majesty, this country, and our people.”

“I look forward to it! But today, forget about loyalty and enjoy yourself!”

That night, the king threw a tremendously lavish party for the new knights.

Fireworks burst continuously in the dark sky, and cheerful music flowed beyond the castle walls.

“His Majesty said we can enjoy ourselves today!”

“We’re finally official knights!”

“Hell’s over, heaven begins tomorrow!”

“Cheers!!”

Kruger mingled among his fellow knights who were completely unleashed, drinking and making noise, pretending to be excited while pouring alcohol down his throat.

After waiting for night to deepen and everyone to get thoroughly drunk, he left the huge banquet hall and strolled through the garden.

The garden with all sorts of mysterious flowers and trees under the bright full moon was breathtakingly beautiful, but he just wandered with cat-like quiet steps.

The faint voices of lovers enjoying secret meetings and noble family heads sharing stories they couldn’t tell others could be heard.

When he reached a certain flower bed past them, Kruger poked at the disheveled bushes here and there with his sword.

“Is someone there? Come out instead of ruining the flowers.”

“Ah… I’ve been caught.”

Some young man suddenly popped his head out.

The young man, with leaves all over his hair, was holding a thick book in one hand and pushing up his crooked glasses while grinning foolishly at him.

“Um, you won’t tell my father, will you? You look like you don’t enjoy dancing at parties either.”

Faded-colored hair and a scholar who just looked gentle.

Ludwig Pahel, the youngest son of Baron Pahel.

Exactly the person Kruger had been quietly observing for years.