Grandson Of The Holy Emperor Is A Necromancer Chapter 58
One side of his face exploded. Count Fomor hurriedly shielded his blown-up face and fell onto the ground. He screamed out while thrashing around in pain.
“H-his highness has finally lost his mind!”
Bloody hell, he’s still alive?
I had to stop in the middle of generating the bullet and that must’ve caused the gathered divinity to be too unfocused.
Just before I could grab the shovel and dash towards the vampire
“Stop the Imperial Prince, now.”
The Holy Emperor Kelt Olfolse issued his command.
The Paladins patiently waiting on standby pounced on me en masse.
I glared at the emperor.
He showed not one hint of fluster on that stony face of his. Nope, it simply came across as being endlessly disinterested.
Kelt Olfolse shifted his gaze away from me and stared at Count Fomor afterwards. He then tilted his head to the side, a deeply meaningful expression floating up on his face.
Dammit! Just one more hit! One hit and it’d been over!
While gnashing my teeth, I got dragged away by the Paladins to an unknown destination.
(TL: in 3rd person POV.)
The Holy Emperor, Kelt Olfolse, was deeply disappointed by the Seventh Imperial Prince’s announcement of surrender. However, he couldn’t help but get constantly surprised by what transpired during the duel.
He thought that these two brothers were extremely similar when they started hurling profanities at each other.
But the moment the Seventh Imperial Prince summoned a shovel from an empty space without any trace of using magic, he gasped out in admiration.
He then even felt almost compelled to applaud the fact that the boy managed to hold on for so long in a duel against Luan, even though the latter admittedly wasn’t at the peak of his health.
Luan Olfolse was also deeply stunned by these events as well.
He personally witnessed the Seventh Imperial Prince use [Divine Aura] right in front of his eyes.
The boy summoned a shovel, and yet, there was definitely not a speck of detectable flow of divinity, Mana, or even demonic energy.
This had to be another type of supernatural ability, a god’s miracle that wasn’t related to magic at all. Luan had no choice but to think of it that way.
The fact that the boy used [Divine Aura] caused questions to pop up in his head, but they weren’t related to the insults done to Count Fomor but rather, the things Allen had done up until now.
-Your highness, what would you do if it turned out that the Seventh Imperial Prince deliberately misbehaved in order to get himself banished?
Luan abruptly recalled what Harman had told him some time ago. Back then, he thought that such a thing was pure nonsense, a mere delusional dream.
But with things like this, could there be more to that assertion, somehow?
Just what did his younger brother do after his banishment to acquire power of this magnitude? Or, was it like what Harman said and the boy had been hiding his true self since from a long time ago?
Suddenly, Luan felt this compulsion to test Allen out.
He shifted his gaze and met Kelt Olfolse’s eyes.
As expected of two people with the same blood flowing in their veins, their thoughts were exactly the same, too.
‘I want to test him!
‘I want to test Allen in front of my eyes and see if he possesses the qualities of an emperor in him!’
Luan already knew that he was a dead man.
For the sake of his mother’s honour, he wished so badly to endure somehow, undo this curse, and become the next emperor. However, if that was an impossible goal for him, then Allen should replace him, since he was the brother who came from the same womb as him.
This would be the best way to get back at those aristocrats who mocked and sneered at his mother for being a lowborn, a commoner.
‘In that case, I shall sacrifice my own life to test you properly, Allen!’
He started injecting divinity into the wooden sword.
It was around then, another stunning scene played out again.
Allen activated another round of Divine Aura. The shovel, which was close to snapping in half, had suddenly grown tough, strong.
He somehow deflected the wooden sword, and then smashed Luan in the face with the shovel. The latter collapsed into a heap on the ground, but his eyes continued to move.
He saw Allen summon a musket.
The boy’s eyeballs shifted and then started glaring at Count Fomor among the spectating aristocrats.
But why? Why was this fool so obsessed with Count Fomor like this?
Allen started offering a prayer, but he had to stop that in the middle and took aim with the musket rifle.
It was a ‘no casting’.
A magician normally needed chanting and Mana, whereas Priests required prayers and divinity, and Necromancers used lifespan and demonic energy.
However, ignoring those necessary steps and instantly using magic was a feat that even the high-ranked members of clergy would find difficult to pull off. Yet, the Seventh Imperial Prince did exactly that.
No, he went beyond that by stopping in the middle of a prayer and used a musket, a mere decorative ornament, to produce an attack with enough killing power behind it.
Allen managed to accurately hit Count Fomor in the face.
Unfortunately, the attack itself seemed a bit lacking because the count managed to survive the hit. Allen Olfolse raised his shovel and tried to finish the job.
Both the Holy Emperor Kelt Olfolse and his grandson, Luan, thought the same thing while witnessing this spectacle.
‘There’s something here.’
‘There has to be something.’
Around that point in time, Luan passed out.
In the meantime, Kelt Olfolse blocked the Seventh Imperial Prince.
“But why would his highness attack Count Fomor?”
Alice softly muttered seemingly to herself, and the Holy Emperor next to her lowered his head to match her eyeline to ask a question. “Oh, the dear granddaughter of Raphael, Alice Astoria.”
She flinched and hurriedly bowed her head in his direction. “Y-yes, your majesty?”
Kelt Olfolse watched Allen being dragged away by the Paladins and continued speaking to her. “I recall that you were present in the banquet hall earlier. Can you explain to me in depth all the rude behaviour Allen Olfolse has done to Count Fomor?”
And that’s how he got to hear what happened in the banquet hall from Alice. All those things were methods used in the past to differentiate vampires.
“Where is Sir Harman? Do you know where he is?”
Kelt Olfolse then asked Raphael the archbishop.
The latter bowed his head. “His whereabouts after we arrived in the training hall are unknown, your majesty.”
Harman, who was originally tasked with escorting the Seventh Imperial Prince, was now nowhere to be found as the boy got dragged away.
Did this mean that there was another scheme at play here?
“Yes, your majesty.”
“Can you bring Count Fomor to me?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Raphael shifted his gaze and stared at the sight of various healers rushing in to heal Count Fomor’s injury.
However, the count waved his hand around unhappily and pushed those healers away, and then, while walking with unsteady steps, he headed off to somewhere else.
Even though one of his own grandsons had almost murdered an aristocrat, there was not a single hint of fluster on the Holy Emperor’s face.
He spoke with an emotionless face. “Bring him to me.”
“What are you planning to do, your majesty?”
“My grandchild went past being rude and even caused an injury to his face, did he not? I was thinking of healing the count myself.”
The Holy Emperor was cracking his knuckles and loosening his wrists. A benevolent expression formed on his face, but the glare shooting out from his eyes was as cold-hearted as one could get.
“I don’t think I can crack open his skull, so instead of doing that, I’m now thinking of injecting some divinity into his head while treating his injuries. Then maybe, who knows?” A bright grin broke out on Kelt Olfolse’s lips. “We might get to find out what Allen so badly wanted to confirm in the first place.”
Archbishop Raphael Astoria swallowed back his dry saliva. The grin on the Holy Emperor’s face was eerily similar to the one the Seventh Imperial Prince often made.
He felt that sometimes, nothing would be harder than figuring out just what the Holy Imperial Family was thinking about.
(TL: back to 1st person POV.)
I was locked up in a prison again.
Hiya this would be my second time getting thrown into one, wouldn’t it?
I guess this body did really commit a lot of crimes in the past, then.
Besides all that, seeing how quiet it was inside the imperial palace, Harman must’ve failed in his quest too.
It wasn’t all that surprising, considering how Count Fomor so brazenly showed his face in the training hall. The vampire must’ve already finished with his preparations.
“Seriously, though. That’s really impressive. These vampires are really fast with their response.”
That was probably how they managed to infiltrate the imperial court in the first place. For them, the Theocratic Empire was basically the centre of the enemy camp, a place where death lurked around every corner.
Surely by now, they had come up with a set of protocols to follow if someone detected them making even the slightest suspicious movements.
It was only around two hours between Count Fomor’s exit from the banquet and the end of the duel taking place in the training hall. And yet, during that short time period, he managed to coax the First Imperial Prince Luan and allowed the other vampires to escape.
No, hang on. They might not have escaped after all.
They could’ve either hid away in their own suites, slip out of the imperial palace, or even surround themselves with plenty of soldiers, all of which should be plenty enough for their objective.
Even if it was Harman, he wouldn’t be able to brazenly kidnap, imprison, or even outright murder them. Besides, the vampires pretending to be nobles would try to ‘protect’ their servants and maids, all the while pushing their human soldiers out to the frontlines instead.
All they had to do was make their calm exits once the ‘banquet’ had come to an end. In the meantime, I would get punished for attempting to murder a count.
At this rate, I might end up being blamed for everything that happened here.
“I heard that you caused yet another commotion, my dear younger brother.”
I heard a voice and shifted my head to the front of the jail cell. A familiar man was standing there.
This guy uh, who was he again?
I confirmed his identity through ‘Mind’s Eye’ and quickly clapped my hands. “Ah, the Third Imperial Prince!”
“You should at least address me as your older brother”
The Third Imperial Prince Ruppel Olfolse furrowed his brows.
He stared at the imprisoned me beyond the iron bars and coughed to clear his throat, then formed a smile. “How could you fight against your own beloved older brother?”
“Contrary to the contents of your words, you sound rather delighted, older brother.”
“No, it’s merely your mood.”
The First Imperial Prince was suffering from ill health while I was imprisoned for attempting to murder a count.
From the Third Imperial Prince’s perspective, this would be like his prospective rivals were digging their own graves, so of course he’d be feeling chuffed about it.
As expected of someone who enjoyed the attributes of a coward. Since he couldn’t face off against other imperial princes, he was probably trying to trample on those that looked easy in his eyes.
Of course, he still remained as a person to ignore in my book, though.
Hang on a second, this fool was also an imperial prince, wasn’t he? Didn’t that mean he wielded some amount of authority himself?
I locked my gaze on the Third Imperial Prince. “Dear brother.”
“Mm? What is that you want now?”
“Can you free me from here?”
“That I can do. But why should I?”
The corners of Ruppel’s lips curled up. For him, me stuck behind the bars was an ideal outcome.
“You assured me that you’d honour one request of mine if I did as you told me. Didn’t you?”
“Well, that” The Third Imperial Prince Ruppel carefully contemplated first before nodding his head. “I certainly said that. However, it’s not applicable at this time. Freeing someone who attempted to murder a count would mean that even I will be heavily reprimanded by his majesty.”
“Honestly speaking, our oldest brother is at death’s doorstep, isn’t he?”
“Why would you bring up the First Imperial Prince all of a sudden?”
It seemed to me that Ruppel really despised Luan Olfolse, judging from how he addressed the latter as ‘First Imperial Prince’ rather than as his older brother.
The Third Imperial Prince nodded his head again.
I spoke up. “I merely wish to pay my brother who has insulted me a visit and pray for his good health.”
“What was that?!”
“You know what my personality is like, don’t you? You do remember what I did back when the archbishop beat me up and humiliated me?”
Ruppel’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
“Please help me get out of here. If you do” I smiled brightly and continued on. “A truly entertaining event will happen very soon.”
< 035. Imperial Prince is Duelling -2 (Part One and Two) > Fin.