LP 3.13 The Prince’s Rebellion

Gosrick approached his lord and lowered his voice as much as possible in his ear.

“You crossed the line earlier.”

“I did? Not you, Sir?”

His tone was sarcastic. Suppressing the urge to smack him across the back right then and there, Gosrick continued.

“Your Lordship has the role of a lord. A knight has the role of a knight.”

“…….”

“That distinction does not exist for no reason. Your Highness, please remember the history of King Rainbalt.”

He was one of Izelant’s former kings. Rainbalt, who was roughly the current king’s great-grandfather, was famous for neglecting state affairs and volunteering as a royal attendant to a young concubine because he was infatuated with her.

That king’s reign is recorded as the worst. At that time, Izelant lost more than half of the eastern Aramor territory to Grafen.

Lucian laughed.

“Before Rainbalt, there was Gideon.”

King Gideon of the Kingdom of Asilla, who had climbed rugged mountains three times and willingly knelt to obtain a sage living in seclusion in the middle of the Mardote Mountains as his strategist. He eventually secured the sage and established Izelant by uniting Callot and Seodin. The anecdote of the king carrying the sage on his back across the battlefield after the sage went blind in war was still passed down like a legend.

Gosrick frowned. He glanced sideways at the Mage. The fellow was curled up alone in a chair, fidgeting with some incomprehensible movements.

A concubine, or a sage.

Rainbalt, or Gideon.

“I can tell by your face that you want to hit me.”

Lucian whispered softly. It was exactly the way he spoke when he was nine years old.

“Go ahead, if you can.”

“…….”

Gosrick clenched his teeth. When Lucian was nine, he could have easily overpowered him and smacked his back or backside as much as he wanted. But now, Lucian had grown as large as a door, and it was becoming burdensome to deal with him through strength alone.

No, how could he possibly overpower a man in his mid-twenties in his prime? Moreover, Gosrick was more than ten years older than Lucian.

I’m getting old, truly old. Swallowing his distress, Gosrick gave a cursory greeting and prepared to leave the room to discipline Eydrick first, when—

“Your Highness, please get along well….”

The tiny voice of the Mage was heard. And following it, the voice of his lord whispering sweetly.

“Get along? We’re already plenty close. I’m doing this because we’re close.”

Gosrick didn’t even want to look back to see what the two were doing. He deliberately stepped out of the inner chamber with a loud thud.

---

They moved as soon as the east grew dim with the coming dawn the next day. There were four in the party: the Mage, Lucian, Eydrick, and Gosrick.

The reason Gosrick accompanied them was, ironically, because he was worried that the two men, who were like nephews to him, might start fighting. Of course, Eydrick was generally calm, they were strictly lord and vassal, and both were sane adults. That was certainly true.

Regardless, the Mage seemed to have slept deeply for the first time in a while. His face, which always looked somewhat fatigued, was glossy and slightly swollen. It was funny yet cute… The moment he realized he thought the Mage was ‘cute,’ Gosrick slapped himself hard across the cheek.

“……?”

Kosha looked back with a surprised expression at the sudden act of self-harm.

Look straight ahead— When Gosrick lectured him in an unnecessarily stern tone, it was Lucian who glared at Gosrick.

“Still, I think it was a good idea for us all to come together.”

Kosha murmured, rubbing his arm slightly.

The other three men disagreed for different reasons, but none of them spoke up.

In any case, the north tower was generally quite eerie. The kitchen downstairs would be bustling with breakfast preparations, but otherwise, it wasn’t yet the time for full-scale activity. This area in particular was exceptionally quiet, as few people resided here.

“I can feel mana, but….”

Kosha hesitated.

The quarters of the King’s Mage were located not far from the bridge that led directly from the main tower to the north tower. It was evident that the king had carefully chosen the room for his ‘friend.’ It was quiet yet not tucked away in a corner, positioned so that one could travel to the main tower whenever desired.

“Is it there?”

Kosha asked, staring at the heavy wooden door at the end of the hallway. Three red silk cords, symbolizing a prohibition of entry, were draped across the wooden door, and the center was sealed with wax.

“That’s the one. Is there a problem?”

Lucian asked softly. Instead of answering, Kosha frowned. His legs, moving slowly forward, were trembling slightly. Lucian grabbed Kosha’s forearm to support him.

Considering that someone had even attempted to open it by hacking at it with an axe, the wooden door was in pristine condition without a single scratch. Kosha swallowed hard, and a chill ran down his spine.

The overall atmosphere was strange. It was true that the door was protected by mana, but….

“Shall I tear it off?”

Eydrick asked, holding the wax seal. Before Kosha could answer, Lucian gave a nod. Soon, there was a snap—the sound of the wax breaking—and Eydrick skillfully removed the silk cloth.

Kosha felt around the wooden door. His slender fingertips were trembling minutely. Lucian’s eyes, focused on Kosha, narrowed.

“Are you really okay?”

He asked again. Kosha licked his lips anxiously.

The magical seal was not the problem. ‘I’ would be able to open this door. The Mage sensed it instinctively. However, the real problem now was….

…An unbearable ominous feeling. The kind of feeling one gets when picking mushrooms in the forest and encounters a poisonous one. A brief premonition of misfortune.

However, Mages were not originally a race that ‘prophesied,’ so that ability was always vague and weak.

What kind of omen was this? Whose misfortune was it? Was it Kosha himself? The owner of this room?

…Or could it possibly be Lucian?

But it was not easy to translate all these thoughts, which cluttered his mind in an instant, into human language. There was no choice. His instinct did not want to open this door, but he had to. That was why they had come. All eyes were on Kosha, and he could not back down. It was something that had to be verified anyway….

And because it was something only I could do. The Mage struggled to steady his heart.

For my lord, I will do what I can.

Strength entered his dry fingertips. And… click.

The doorknob turned on its own, and the heavy door, which could not be opened even with an axe, pushed inward far too easily. The stuffy, stale air of the room leaked out through the gap.

It was the moment Lucian instinctively blocked Kosha’s chest with his arm as if to protect him. As if someone had pulled from the inside, the door suddenly swung wide open.

The spacious room came into view at a glance.

“…Ah.”

Kosha covered his mouth. Lucian pulled his body, which nearly collapsed, into his embrace.

In an armchair in the center of the room, a corpse that had become complete white bones sat in a formal posture.

It was fully dressed in the ceremonial robes worn by the ‘King’s Mage.’

“Step back, Your Highness.”

Gosrick stepped forward, pushing back Lucian, who was holding Kosha. Eydrick also naturally took a position on the opposite side, assuming a defensive stance.

Three knights and one Mage—a composition capable of charging into enemy lines—but no one was careless. It was just as Lucian, wrapping one arm around Kosha, brought his other hand to the hilt of his sword.

“It’s okay, there’s no one here.”

A slightly subdued voice echoed from within Lucian’s embrace.

“I don’t feel any sign of life in the room.”

The knights paused and looked back. Kosha, having barely caught his breath, straightened his body resolutely.

“I’m okay too. I was just surprised for a moment. I didn’t expect… this.”

The three men gave him suspicious looks, but it was a fact in its own way. Living in the countryside, one often encountered animal bones just by entering the forest. Of course, one rarely saw human skulls….

Regardless, it wasn’t that he was truly afraid of a skeleton.

Kosha walked forward slowly.

The skeleton’s attire was lavish. Over a long kirtle that reached down to the toes, he wore an unbelted houppelande, and on his head was a pointed silk hat that looked like a thimble.

…They were lavish and clean new clothes, but it was a style that would have been fashionable nearly a hundred years ago. The large patterns of the fabric that felt tacky, the hem decorated with tassels….

“Is this really the King’s Mage?”

Kosha asked cautiously. Gosrick answered in an uncomfortable voice.

“He used to walk around like that. Everyone wondered where on earth he got such clothes.”

“It is the signet ring of the King’s Mage.”

Lucian murmured, looking down at the skeleton’s finger. Several rings were loosely hanging on the finger bones of the skeleton, which rested formally on the armrest of the chair.

Certainly, the theory that this was the King’s Mage was more plausible than the hypothesis that someone had stolen the clothes and rings and dressed an unknown skeleton in them.

“…But.”

Kosha looked around the room. All the windows were tightly closed with curtains drawn. They were likely sealed with mana as well.

“Why can’t I feel any mana?”

“Mana?”

Lucian asked back. Kosha’s lips parted.

“Well, when a Mage dies—I mean, when their physical body dies… mana remains. Not the minor spells they had cast, but the greatest source magical power they held in their body.”

This was true for any Mage above a certain level. A Mage’s body is essentially a vessel that holds source magical power.

When the vessel breaks, their mana begins to scatter slowly. Back to where it came from—that is, to nature. Blown by the wind, seeping into the ground, becoming nutrients for plants…. Over a very long period of time.

Until that mana completely assimilates with nature and disappears, the bereaved family of a Mage feels the traces of the deceased in the blowing wind or a handful of soil, comforting and mourning for a long time. That is the funeral culture of mages.

…Kosha had experienced that as well. Although he could not mourn.

He swallowed hard.

“A Mage this great has died, but there are no traces of him left in the objects in the room. The doors are all sealed with magic, so something should remain inside, even if it’s just a little.”

Mana clings even to the objects one cherished during their lifetime. However, no trace was felt even from his signet ring.

“…Normally, how long does it take to become complete white bones like this?”

“It depends on the situation. Temperature, humidity, or even the person, even if the environment is the same. If the conditions are right, it can rot faster than you’d think….”

Gosrick answered. In any case, they were all people who had seen their fill of corpses.

“He didn’t die here.”

Suddenly, Eydrick murmured softly.

“I don’t smell the scent of death in the room. Furthermore, if it had become skeletonized to this extent, the clothes should have rotted along with it.”

“Then you’re saying someone brought a corpse that was already bones, dressed it in new clothes, and sat it in the chair?”

Gosrick asked back with a grimace.

“What kind of lunatic would do such a thing?”

“When was the last time the King’s Mage appeared?”

Kosha asked again. Gosrick rolled his eyes as if searching his memory.

“As far as I remember, that… elixir incident.”

When Lucian showed abnormal symptoms after taking the so-called ‘Love Potion,’ it was the King’s Mage who diagnosed it as symptoms of magic potion addiction. After that? The three men exchanged glances and soon all shook their heads.

That was the last time.

“How did the Mage look then? Was he alright?”

“…Would that have caught my eye? Our Highness himself wasn’t in his right mind.”

Gosrick spoke reproachfully, and Kosha, who was practically the culprit, felt awkwardly embarrassed. It was also impossible to expect a proper answer from Lucian, who was the party involved in not being ‘in his right mind.’

It was Eydrick who spoke up a step later.

“…Thinking back now, his complexion did look poor. I remember bringing him here myself, and he was so pale he almost looked bluish.”

He said he ‘brought’ him, but it was practically dragging him along with half-threats, mentioning old grudges. Of course, at the time, he thought he had ‘persuaded’ him. Because if the Mage truly didn’t want to, he could have refused.

“However, since he was very old and we were moving through secret passages at night with dim lighting, I remember just brushing it off as nothing significant.”

“If it was then… it wasn’t that long ago.”

Kosha murmured, biting his lip.

“For a typical Mage, their complexion doesn’t just worsen simply because they get old. If the complexion is bluish… a mana problem is a representative cause.”

“A mana problem?”

Lucian asked back. Kosha nodded.

“Yes, typically a magical power deficiency problem. Or a situation where they are being suppressed by someone more powerful…. But there wouldn’t have been any other Mage capable of that.”

“…….”

“By any chance, have you ever seen him use magic?”

“No.”

Lucian shook his head firmly and continued.

“But it’s been that way since the King’s accession. He said he decided to refrain from using magic as a sign of respect for Izelant and the human king.”

There were only two times he had openly used magic in front of many people.

The first was the Battle of Anspe Terra Plains.

It was the first battle where the Mage played a significant role after the king obtained him.

At that time, the king was fighting his brother for the throne. The armies of the two princes gathered on the Anspe Terra Plains and had a pitched battle. It was a frontal clash of large-scale forces, and likely the final battle.

At the time, the king was disadvantaged in several aspects, including geographical conditions and troop numbers.

However, he had a Mage.

Fireballs fell from the sky, and the enemy camp turned into a swamp. It was a fight that could not be countered by human strength. The knights charging at the front were sucked into the swamp, and the infantry burned before they could even charge. ‘Magic’ was only for a moment, but it was enough to completely disrupt the enemy’s ranks.

The king did not miss the opportunity and ordered a general charge. It was a time of overflowing ambition. He charged at the very front, clashed directly with his own brother, and severed his arm.

In the end, that battle decided the owner of the crown. The soldiers surrendered, and most of the knights who had sworn loyalty to his brother died on that plain. There were a few more resistances after that, but they were almost meaningless.

“Fire fell from the sky?”

Kosha’s mouth hung open. How on earth does one perform such magic? He couldn’t even fathom it intuitively or theoretically. Wasn’t that the kind of magic used only in the mythical era?

And a Mage who could use such magic is now….

Kosha felt an unbearable omen once again as he looked at the skeletonized corpse.

“And the second time was at the King’s coronation. Unexpectedly, it rained that day, and it is said that he cleared the rain clouds and cast sunlight over the king’s head.”

Eydrick continued the explanation.

“That must have been the last time he used magic in front of people. Privately, he would have diagnosed the magic potion and detected the general location where you were likely to be.”

“For a Mage of that level, detecting mana up to Osterwick wouldn’t be difficult, but….”

Kosha himself could feel the presence of the geese in Osterwick after his mana had returned to some extent. If the type of mana to be searched for is specified, it’s not that difficult.

“…Then it’s possible that the King’s Mage had already been slowly losing his mana since then.”

So, he might have been dragged along forcibly even though he really didn’t want to come. Because he lacked the strength to resist. Of course, that would have been close to a stroke of luck for Lucian….

How on earth did a Mage of that level end up like that? And how did he end up ‘this way’….

After staring intently at the skeleton as if observing it for a long time, Kosha suddenly asked.

“By the way.”

“Hmm?”

“How is the skeleton… sitting in such a straight posture?”

The voice was almost a whisper. And no one could readily open their mouth.

Come to think of it… why did no one think that was strange first? Sharp, tense, and eerie glances exchanged between the three men, excluding Kosha.

“…I thought that because it was a Mage’s bones, something—the structure, the principle, whatever—would be different.”

Gosrick answered awkwardly. It was an answer that anyone could see was improvised on the spot.