Hell Mode: Volume 3, page 20
The viscount, who had intended on catching the afternoon magic ship home, said, “Th-That’s rather sudden...”
“Are you implying that you wish to turn down His Highness’s invitation? That is fine as well. We can convey your decision.”
“Of course not. The invitation honors me, and I would be delighted to attend.”
Zenof cut in. “My lord, I shall accompany you.”
“What is this? Viscount, do you feel the need to be accompanied by a guard while dining with His Highness? Is this some kind of statement?”
Having been told in a roundabout way to come alone, the viscount found himself at a loss for an answer. He was aware that he and the crown prince were on rather tenuous terms, and were anything to happen to him, all fault would fall on himself for being careless enough to attend without a guard. Would he simply disappear? Or would there be a cover story about getting assaulted by hoodlums on his way back? No matter what happened, no one would fault the crown prince for it.
Just as one of the envoys was about to press Viscount Granvelle for an answer, Allen spoke up. “My lord, if you will be dining with the crown prince tomorrow night, then I shall come as well.” Although he was wearing his school uniform, he bowed like he had done as a manservant.
He was making the point that it was uncustomary for nobles to head out alone, and so was offering to go along as an attendant. Back when Allen had quit and become a guest of House Granvelle, he had stopped calling the viscount “my lord” and switched to using “sir.” The viscount looked startled for a second at Allen reverting his manner of address, but quickly accepted the offer. After Cecil’s kidnapping incident, he knew that Allen could be relied on in a fight.
I’m glad I never returned my manservant uniform. It’s only been six months since I quit, so it should still fit me.
The only thing Allen had returned was the House Granvelle crest carried by servants. He had not given back the uniform, which was still “sleeping” in his Storage. He was aware he had grown a bit taller since he had quit his post, being in puberty and all, but he figured it would not be enough to look awkward in the outfit and raise suspicions.
The envoys made no protest regarding a manservant coming along. Their reaction amounted to “So you had a manservant enrolled at the Academy.” After pressing home that the viscount was to arrive on time, they then got up and left.
＊ ＊ ＊
The next day came. Viscount Granvelle, with only Allen as an escort, headed to the high-class inn where the crown prince was staying. Cecil had said that she wanted to go too, but her father talked her out of it. After all, the royal envoy involved with arranging her kidnapping had been in the crown prince’s service, so there was no telling what dangers might be in store. Allen agreed with the viscount’s call.
So, the crown prince is in the Kingdom faction, huh...
A week ago, Allen happened to ask Rifol about the crown prince and the royal court in general. One thing that he ended up learning was that, after the Demon Lord appeared, two factions had formed within the Ratashian government: the Kingdom faction and the Alliance faction. Needless to say, the two were constantly at each other’s throats.
The Kingdom faction believed that the national interest was of top priority, and that Ratash ought to send only the bare minimum of aid to the Allied effort. To support their stance, the Kingdom faction often brought up the fact that before the Demon Lord, Ratash had suffered centuries of invasions from expansionist Giamut. “How dare Giamut be so bold-faced to turn around and ask for help?” was the general attitude of this faction. It would indeed be catastrophic if the Giamutan Empire fell to the Demon Lord Army, but nothing was better than the two permanently locked in eternal conflict.
On the other hand, the Alliance faction agreed with the ideals of the Five Continent Alliance and believed in prioritizing international cooperation. In this day and age when the Demon Lord was threatening the entire world, being occupied with self-interest was simply reprehensible in their mind. The Academy faction was a smaller clique within this faction.
One large reason why the rift between these two factions had grown so deep was because the Alliance faction had been in control for two consecutive reigns. This had led to the Land Reclamation Decree and the establishment of the system rewarding veterans with prominent positions in the royal court and fiefdom-wide tax cuts. No expense had been spared in helping the war effort against the Demon Lord Army.
This had fostered significant discontent among the major noble families that formed the old guard. As they rarely had Talented children, they could only watch as the lower nobility continued accruing benefits when their Talented children returned from the battlefield. Lately, not only had the Alliance faction taken over the top ranks in the military, but they were also beginning to encroach upon ministerial positions. The upper nobility believed that it was only a matter of time before they lost their standing.
Therefore, they decided to throw their support behind the crown prince, the son of the current king’s older brother. In turn, the crown prince actively worked to unite the Kingdom faction under his name. The current king had a son of his own, but when put under the pressure from the most influential nobles at court, he had had no choice but to name his nephew as his successor. And now that he was old, his influence was waning along with his health.
Whereas the Kingdom faction was made up of the most powerful noble houses, the Alliance faction had a strong grip on the military through its ties with the Academy. Because these two factions differed on such a fundamental level ideologically yet were roughly equal with each other in terms of power, Ratash remained broken and divided. The crown prince had gone so far as vowing to halve the support Ratash would send to the Alliance.
When Viscount Granvelle and Allen reached the inn, an envoy guided them to a waiting room. “Please wait in here.”
“Mm.”
So, this is an inn for members of the royal family to use. Oh! I’ve never seen this type of fruit before. Lemme take a bite— Oh yum, this is delicious!
Allen gleefully helped himself to the fruit on the table. After all, he was probably going to remain on his feet afterward and would not get much to eat. The viscount said he did not need any fruit, so Allen put all of the rest into his Storage. The two then went back to waiting, but despite how much time had passed, no one came to pick them up. Eventually, Allen sat down next to one of the potted decorative plants.
“What’re you doing?” the viscount asked him.
“Making recovery items. I’ll give you some. Use them when you need to.”
“Really? How kind.”
“Anytime, sir.”
Allen was always busy these days creating recovery items. Each week, he received a total of thirty thousand Rank D and E magic stones from the Adventurer’s Guild, three times the amount he had been processing before summer break. He was turning all of them into Fronds of Life and Seeds of Magic. Normally, he did this on the sly during morning classes; however, due to the sharp increase in the number of stones, he was starting to fall behind. Now, whenever he had a spare moment, he would dedicate it to Creating, Synthesizing, Strengthening, and Awakening cards.
My Summons Squads are taking quite a beating in the Rank A dungeons. I really wanna reach Strengthening Lvl. 7 as soon as possible.
Another hour passed.
They sure are making us wait a lot. Can they hurry it up? I have a feeling today’s gonna be the day when we get a gold treasure chest, so I want to get back in time to fill our Rank A dungeon quota.
One more hour passed.
Okay, this is waaay too much waiting. Seriously, get a move on already! Return me my gold chest! I feel like today’s the only day it’ll show.
Allen was getting irritable enough to start feeling like it was the crown prince’s fault that his party had yet to see a single gold treasure chest. Only then did a royal envoy come to fetch Viscount Granvelle and Allen. He led them to the extravagant dining room on the top floor reserved for royalty. The man sitting by himself at the massive table—hair swept back, a glass of wine in one hand, and looking every inch a villain—was Invel von Ratash, crown prince of Allen’s home country.
“Looks like I kept you waiting,” Prince Invel said coolly.
“A small price for the honor of an audience with you, Your Highness,” Viscount Granvelle replied, as if implying that he would be willing to wait no matter how long it took.
C’mon, do you have any idea what you made me miss? Although, admittedly, I did come here of my own free will.
“Mm, I like that attitude of yours. I can only hope everyone in the Alliance faction takes a page from you someday.”
Behind the crown prince stood several knights in full armor. The viscount gasped a little when he laid eyes on them. Allen stepped forward to pull the viscount’s seat back for him, then stood behind the chair. Throughout the process, Allen made sure to avoid eye contact with the prince, who only cast his eyes over the boy for a split second and thought nothing more than that he was a young attendant.
The food was carried in, and the two men commenced their meal without a word. The knights remained stock still, staring straight at the viscount. They appeared ready to draw their swords at a moment’s notice. At the very least, the viscount was protected against any attempts at poisoning him, as Allen had had him consume a Potherb ahead of time.
Suddenly, the crown prince broke the silence. “Yesterday was quite the surprise. Are you properly disciplining Sword Lord Krena? She was barking like a loud dog. And Sword Lord Dverg was certainly his usual self, heading straight back to the battlefield without so much as a ‘by-your-leave.’”
He was referring to Krena loudly replying to him both at the arena and the ceremony. As for Dverg, he had skipped the ceremony outright and boarded the first magic ship to Giamut instead. Based on what the crown prince was saying, the Sword Lord had not even gone over to greet him. According to Rifol, Dverg had always been like that. Of the numerous stories circulating about him, there was a particularly famous one about how he had skipped his own marquess appointment ceremony at the royal palace to go fight on the battlefield instead.
“Sword Lord Krena is being allowed to grow as she wishes at the moment. Allow me to apologize on her behalf for her disrespectful attitude toward Your Highness.” The viscount lowered his head in apology.
“I see. It must be the right call, seeing how she managed to seize the championship.”
“Thank you for your understanding, Your Highness.”
“And things are going well for your fiefdom too, I hear.”
“I-I’m sorry, Your Highness? I-I suppose so...”
“A Sword Lord was born in your realm and now you’re able to mine mithril again. You’ve even managed to destroy your archrival. Everything’s just been smooth sailing for you, hasn’t it? Tell me, do you have any advice for how to make the stars turn in my favor?”
“‘Destroy’ is a bit...”
The viscount’s oldest son, Mihai, had died on the battlefield, so it could hardly be said that everything had been “smooth sailing” for him. However, he chose not to bring it up. Instead, he gently rebuffed the usage of the term “destroy.”
“Your performance at the audience hall was quite impressive.”
“Performance, Your Highness?”
“Was it not an act?”
The crown prince stared pointedly at the viscount as the knights behind him shifted their weight forward slightly. It was as if the entire room was waiting for his reply.
However, the viscount chose to remain silent. Eventually, it was the crown prince who backed off.
“That aside, His Majesty sure has gotten eccentric over the years, going so far as to issue such a contract for a mere child of some now-defunct minor noble House. And thanks to someone fanning the flames, now I’ve had to get involved too.”
Ah, so silence was the right answer just now.
The crown prince shook his head and shrugged his shoulders as if lamenting something unbelievable. Apparently word of the contract written up for Keel’s sake had reached his ears.
“As a joint signatory on that contract,” the viscount said in an even tone, “I will also cooperate to the best of my abilities once the young man finishes his duty and returns to restore his House.”
“Once he finishes his duty, you say.” A smirk appeared on the prince’s face, as if he had been waiting for this moment.
Allen perked up. Huh?
“Is there a problem with what I said?”
“If I recall correctly, the wording of that contract was such that Ratash could decide where the young man in question is to be stationed. I was thinking of sending him with the Sword Lord. Giamut’s been pressuring me to send them eager fighters, you see.”
Clearly, the crown prince knew that Keel now lived with Krena. And he was right about what the contract said.
Oh, is he going to send them to a particularly dangerous part of the front line? Please make it the most dangerous spot!
Allen was doing his best to maintain a blank face, but a smile still slipped out for a brief moment.
“I...see.”
“Of course, since your daughter is apparently a part of their party, she would be accompanying them as well.”
Viscount Granvelle leaped to his feet. “Now just hold on a moment, Your Highness! Please!”
The knights immediately reacted by reaching for their blades, but the prince gestured for them to stand down. “Why are you so surprised? Those of you in the Alliance faction only care about fulfilling your duty, right? And every division of the front lines needs personnel.”
This was what the crown prince had wanted to get at. In short, he was telling the viscount that the cost of cooperating with the Five Continent Alliance would be the life of his daughter. None of the Sword Lords born in Ratash after Dverg had survived. Keel and Krena dying pointless deaths would serve as a potent warning of what would happen to those in the Alliance faction who opposed the crown prince. Furthermore, by sending the newly born Sword Lord to a demanding corner of the battlefield, he could maintain the appearance of being cooperative with Giamut. Everything about this arrangement benefitted the crown prince.
Interesting. So the crown prince has a head on his shoulders after all. All right, looks like it’s about time for me to take action. Otherwise, the viscount might start making concessions.
“This sounds like a great opportunity for earning military accolades,” Allen said so softly only the viscount could hear.
“What?! Allen, what do you mean by that?!” the viscount demanded, sounding agitated.
“Please rest assured, sir. I will protect Lady Cecil. There is nothing to fear.”
“Hm? What is the matter? Which reminds me—you with the black hair...” The crown prince looked suspiciously at the manservant that the viscount was so furiously whispering with and suddenly recalled Krena conversing frequently with this boy at the arena yesterday. Black hair was a rarity in this world, so it had left an impression.
“Yes, Your Highness?” Allen bowed slightly in greeting.
“You were there. At the arena.”
“Yes, Your Highness. I was watching the tournament as one of the Sword Lord’s companions.”
“You’re a companion of hers?”
“Yes, Your Highness. We are in a party together, of which I am the leader. Lady Cecil and Keel are also members of the same party.” And Dogora too.
“You’re the leader? Not the Sword Lord?”
“Yes, Your Highness. Strength is not all there is to being a leader, after all.”
“You at least know how to speak, young man. In that case, what is your opinion of what was just discussed?”
“I could not be more grateful for the increased opportunity to make our mark on the battlefield.”
“Pfft!” Viscount Granvelle could not help but spit out the food in his mouth. His very soul seemed to have escaped too, by the looks of things, leaving him on the verge of fainting. He was probably fervently wishing he had come alone.
“Viscount, that’s disgusting.” Prince Invel chided before turning back to Allen. “Well, unlike the current king, I have no intention of making a serf a marquess. However, if your achievements merit it, I might consider giving you a reward.” He smiled as if looking at a brat who had no idea what he was talking about.
“Thank you, Your Highness!” Allen cried, bowing deeply.
Good, that went well. Did I come across as a mere servant dreaming of riding on the Sword Lord’s coattails?
Eventually, the dinner was over and all parties went their own way, with whirling thoughts driven by differing purposes and motives filling their heads.
Chapter 12: Rank A Dungeon Boss
Three months passed, and it was now January. After a modest New Year’s celebration, the days of dungeon delving resumed. The Academy’s academic calendar only had two prolonged holidays during summer and spring, with spring break beginning in March. This meant that the first was the only holiday for the month of January. When he discovered this arrangement, Allen was shocked—as a former Japanese, he was used to getting the first three days of the year off, all of which he would spend gaming from morning to night.
The No-life Gamers’ routine remained the same as before: On days with classes, they visited all the dungeons they had previously cleared in turn, fighting the final bosses. On the weekends, they spent the entirety of both days progressing through a new dungeon. They aimed to clear one floor of a Rank A dungeon per weekend, meaning they would camp out overnight.
Because of how long it took to get through the dungeons with their labyrinthian layouts, the Academy had a “dungeon leave” system—if a student went dungeon delving on a day off but could not get back out in time and therefore ended up missing school, they simply had to submit a request for dungeon leave the following day and it would not be counted against their attendance record. Even the No-life Gamers, who had Bird C mounts to serve as rapid transit, had ended up relying on this system twice before January after falling victim to Teleport Traps. Even though Allen constantly had three Bird Cs running ahead to trigger as many traps as possible, this strategy was not entirely foolproof.
