I Became the Youngest Prince in the Novel

252 - Beneath Baeksung Palace (2)

TL/Editor: raei

Status: ongoing

Illustrations: none

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In the slums on the outskirts of Hubris, the imperial capital, dozens of crimes occurred daily due to the lack of law enforcement compared to the central districts.

Perhaps because survival took precedence over the world's crisis, various crimes continued even with war looming on the horizon.

CRASH!

Early morning chaos erupted in the shantytown where the poorest residents lived.

Over ten adult men had broken down the door of one shack and were stuffing everything inside into sacks. In their midst stood a trembling young girl and a teenage boy protectively embracing her.

"Hmm... this won't be nearly enough to repay the debt," muttered the leader of the men, a man in his mid-forties, as he surveyed the house with a troubled expression.

His name was Nordic, one of the most notorious loan sharks in the slums who wouldn't hesitate to engage in illegal activities if there was profit to be made.

"Say," Nordic asked, turning his scarred, vicious face toward the boy after inspecting the place. "Got any valuables hidden away? Jewels, gold... cash would be even better."

"There's nothing. You bastards already took everything," spat Bellid, glaring at Nordic.

His situation was a sadly common tale. His parents had borrowed money to open a shop hoping to escape poverty, but died in an accident. Immediately after, Nordic the loan shark began forcibly collecting - with impossible interest rates.

"This is troublesome... ah!" Nordic stroked his chin before snapping his fingers as if struck by an idea. "There is something left after all."

His gaze fell on Bellid and his sister.

Human trafficking. Though forbidden by imperial law, Nordic couldn't care less about such regulations.

Perhaps sensing his intentions-

"You crazy bastard!" Bellid tried to escape while holding his sister, but couldn't break through the thugs who had already tightened their encirclement.

The siblings were quickly subdued and forced to their knees.

"Kuh... so this was your plan from the start!"

Nordic grinned, showing yellowed teeth as he leaned toward Bellid. "You're pretty clever, aren't you? Should fetch a good price at the underground auction. Your sister too, of course." ŔANO͍ꞖΕS

The boy's face drained of color.

"No, please! Not Iliya at least!" Bellid begged, bowing his head and casting aside all pride. Though his plea was desperate, Nordic's eyes remained unchanged.

If he could be swayed by such things, he wouldn't have started this business in the first place.

At Nordic's signal, his men began dragging Bellid's sister away.

"Waaaaah! Brother, brother!"

"Grrrrrgh! You fucking bastards!"@@@@

What a wretched life. He had struggled desperately to escape this hellish poverty, praying countless times for just one chance from the gods.

But the deeper he struggled, the further into hell he sank. The gods never answered his prayers.

He existed in a pit where not even a single ray of light reached.

'Please... just once. If there really are gods...!'

Just as Bellid reached toward his sister with bloodshot eyes-

THUD!

The half-broken door burst open.

Knights with stern gazes, completely out of place in the slums, began entering.

"Who the hell are you-!"

Some thugs charged foolishly, but-

SLASH!

One knight immediately beheaded them with his drawn sword.

As the knight cleaned his blade as if removing filth, the middle-aged knight at the front spoke to Bellid in the ensuing frozen silence:

"Bellid Frost? And Iliya Frost?"

"...What?"

"We're going to the imperial palace now. Get ready."

Unlike their brutal entrance, the knight's voice was gentle, even respectful, when addressing the siblings.

Perhaps smelling money in the situation?

"Greetings, honored knights. I am Nordic," Nordic smiled ingratiatingly from the side where he had been observing. "Are you perhaps taking them to the imperial palace?"

The knight merely stared at Nordic silently.

"If so, you should speak with me first. Their parents owed me a debt, and since they recently died, that debt now belongs to these children."

"...And?"

Despite being only in his late twenties and not yet at his peak, light energy that seemed capable of splitting the world streamed from Ian Ascalon's sword as he shouted.

"Normally I'd tell you not to overdo it... but the situation doesn't look good," a beautiful woman in mage's robes said from the opposite side while looking at Zion.

"Your Majesty, perhaps we should follow Ian's suggestion this time?"

It was Lizwell Ozlima, one of the Five Kings and future ancestor of House Ozlima.

If Ian was fire, Lizwell was water.

True to her nature, her voice was very calm, but even she couldn't completely hide the anxiety in her eyes.

Then, as if responding to their words-

---!!!

The earth shook with a sound too massive for human ears to process.

The ground in the fairy army's area rose up, taking the form of a giant so enormous its peak couldn't be seen.

The Spirit King of Earth, Diotne.

He had manifested in the world by borrowing the form of the earth.

ROOOAAR!

As if planning to use full power from the start, the earth giant housing the Spirit King began charging toward Zion at tremendous speed.

RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE!

The ground shook as if hit by an earthquake.

"Y-your Majesty!"

Seeing this, Ian Ascalon called out more urgently to Zion.

Even he couldn't face Diotne yet.

"Your Majesty, let us first create a path in the opposite direction..." Lizwell began saying while gathering magic in her hands.

"No."

A quiet voice flowed from Zion's lips.

He began walking slowly.

Toward the approaching Spirit King.

"Emperor Aurellion!"

Hearing Ian calling from behind, Zion reached out and grasped the air.

SWISH-

Eclaxia materialized in his hand as if it had been waiting.

Logically, the correct choice would be to hold out for reinforcements or break through one side of the encirclement to escape.

The power difference was overwhelming, and at this time Zion's Black Star Force hadn't reached seven stars yet, so he couldn't properly damage the Spirit King.

But even so.

Both his current answer and past Aurellion's answer were already decided.

The one answer that would never change even facing hundreds or thousands of crises - the way Zion had always proven himself.

Slowly.

As Diotne brought down his fist with a heaven-splitting roar, Zion's sword traced a slow arc.

That single slash was incredibly strange.

Though clearly visible, it was impossible to tell if it cut from top to bottom.

Or bottom to top.

Or left to right.

It couldn't be distinguished at all.

The sword advanced steadily at the same speed even as time slowed rapidly amid the denial of space and sensation.

Finally, as the Spirit King's meteorite-like fist completely stopped an inch above Zion's head-

The instant Zion's sword reached its endpoint-

BOOOM!

As time returned to normal, massive friction flames erupted and covered the entire battlefield's atmosphere.

In the pure white world created by those flames-

SCREECH!

The Spirit King of Earth collapsed, split perfectly in two.

In that mythical scene-

"From now on, we pierce through to the enemy's center and crush their heads," Zion quietly commanded Ian and Lizwell as they stared at him with dazed eyes.