Chapter: 237
When Cecil finally woke up from a long slumber, the world outside was already bright and vibrant.
Squinting at the sunlight seeping through the window, he realized his body felt like a wreck.
What on earth had happened? Holding his forehead, he struggled to recall the events of yesterday.
He remembered entering the dungeon to clear it.
Coming outside, he had fallen for Lucy Alrn’s provocation.
Consumed by rage, he charged at her with the singular determination to take her down, whatever the cost to his pride.
And then, he was utterly humiliated. It was like he had reached a transcendent state of despair.
“Cecil, my prince.”
Turning towards the voice, he spotted an older gentleman recognized as the one who had drilled the basics of swordsmanship into him during his childhood. At the same time, he was someone who handled various unsavory tasks for the Bedper Duke family.
“Nabil.”
Despite having numerous names, this gentleman was referred to as Nabil by Cecil, who tipped his top hat respectfully.
“What brings you here?”
“I was sent by the Queen. There are messages she wishes for me to convey.”
Seeing Nabil’s relaxed smile, Cecil somewhat anticipated the unpleasant content of what would follow.
“Shall I tell you right away?”
“Yes.”
As Cecil nodded, Nabil’s mouth opened.
But instead of the courteous voice of the elder that filled the room moments ago, what escaped was the sharp, scathing tone that Cecil recognized all too well—the voice of his mother, the Second Queen.
“You foolish and dimwitted prince. You’ve messed up once again.”
Foolish and dimwitted. Nabil had toned it down; the actual words were likely harsher.
“You couldn’t even win the favor of the Young Lady Alrn and instead picked a fight, using sordid methods, and ended up defeated. How pathetic you are. A puppet would have done better in your place.”
Nabil relentlessly bombarded Cecil with the same critiques he’d heard since childhood.
Usually, Cecil would listen in silence, but he noticed something peculiar today. He felt surprisingly indifferent to the criticisms aimed at him.
It was true that Cecil had grown accustomed to such harsh words, but normally, his mother’s scorn would have ignited feelings of sadness and rage within him.
However, today felt different, almost serene amidst the insults.
“Watching you flail about was ridiculous; all that’s left is to call you the idiotic prince. Enough already. Just step aside, both you and your dimwitted followers. I’ll handle things myself.”
Had his emotions vanished?
No, that couldn’t be the case—just recall the seething anger he felt when Lucy Alrn had provoked him last night. It had been genuine.
Even now, thinking about that moment ignited heat within him, so clearly, he wasn’t devoid of feelings. But why?
…Could it be that, compared to her taunts, his mother’s barbs felt like nothing at all? Was his mind deciding that?
Cecil chuckled bitterly at that ridiculous thought.
“Do you understand? The prince who lacks any talent besides swinging a sword? Just focus on sharpening your sword, as that’s all you’re good for.”
With that closing remark, Nabil cleared his throat and returned to his usual voice.
“That’s how it is. For now, focus entirely on training.”
“Right. Understood.”
“On a side note, I was quite surprised. You’ve managed to infuse your magic with some uniqueness.”
Nabil’s words were devoid of deception.
It was true that Cecil possessed remarkable martial talent, but infusing uniqueness into his magic was something that surpassed mere talent.
How surprising that even the Second Queen, who only ever hurled insults, acknowledged his martial skill.
“Then what now? I’ve been defeated.”
Cecil certainly wasn’t oblivious to the achievements he had made under duress. After living a lifetime as a warrior, how could he not recognize the magnitude of that feat?
That being said, his reaction was lukewarm due to the fact that his failure followed the miraculous feat.
Lucy Alrn, descendant of the hero Benedict Alrn, a monster who had risen to the ranks of divine beings over the past six months, had simply used her shield to effortlessly thwart the miracle he had achieved.
“That only happened because the opponent wasn’t good enough.”
“Perhaps,” Nabil conceded.
Cecil knew well that had his opponent not been Lucy Alrn, he wouldn’t have withstood that attack.
But what would that change? Ultimately, his miracle had been reduced to a mere tool to showcase the value of the gem that was Lucy Alrn.
“Nabil, I want to ask you something.”
“Yes, your Highness.”
“If I were in top condition, would I have been able to win against Lucy Alrn?”
Nabil paused for a moment, closing his lips, before responding.
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t see the duel with my own eyes.”
“Right. Of course.”
Seeing the remorseful expression on Nabil, Cecil lightly replied, as he had already reached his conclusion internally.
Even if he had been in peak condition, he would have still lost to Lucy Alrn. Having achieved a miracle, he was still in that situation; what difference would his condition make?
No, in fact, if he had felt well, the miracle wouldn’t have happened at all, meaning he would have been toyed with until the end.
In his fit of rage, Cecil thought probably none of this was worth being grateful for, despite somehow gaining a realization thanks to Lucy Alrn’s nasty nature.
He couldn’t feel thankful when every time he pictured her smug grin, anger flared up in his mind.
“Was it not bad? That damned variant of a bitch.”
Someday. He’d make her cry.
With that thought, Cecil got out of bed, issuing his wishes to Nabil.
He needed to refine the aura he’d used last night if he was ever going to surpass Lucy Alrn.
With his heavy body dragging him down, thoughts of the First Prince had disappeared entirely from his mind.
*
The day after the duel with the Second Prince, having received a fitting trial from Luka, I stepped out of the academy. I was testing the skill I had gained upon completing a quest yesterday—Shock Conversion.
Shock Conversion, a passive skill vital for tank-like frontline jobs. Especially essential for someone like me, a Holy Knight.
Take damage while fighting at the front. > Gain divine energy. > Heal with that energy. > Take damage again. > Gain divine energy again…
It forms a routine, right?
Of course, this routine isn’t infinite. Given the efficiency of Shock Conversion isn’t too great, there’s a limit.
But it’s certain that it significantly increases the frontline’s endurance, so I thought it would be a great help to me now.
Reality, however, was quite cruel.
Entering the dungeon outside the academy, I moved around for quite some time testing the skill’s effectiveness, but the results were dismal.
Sure, divine energy was accumulating, but the amounts were alarmingly minimal.
Even if I had just learned the skill and wasn’t proficient yet, this was excessive. The efficiency was too far off from what I expected.
What could possibly be going wrong? While racking my brain over it, a thought struck me.
Could it be? Regardless, I felt the need to confirm it.
“Are you too scared of a girl?♡ Why not crawl on the ground and beg to be taken in like livestock?♡ Ah, is there no place that would accept a disgusting cowardly orc like you?♡”
Inviting an orc to assist with the experiment through taunts, I dropped my shield and let him throw a punch at my face.
Whump! The sound echoed, and I felt the divine energy restore within me. Though, due to the severe gap in our stats, I felt no significant pain.
Ah.
Crap.
So, does this mean reality’s Shock Conversion only applies to shocks inflicted on my body?
So blocking with a shield doesn’t count as damage?
In the game, shields were essentially armor. Unless you timed a perfect block, they merely reduced a portion of the damage.
Thus, I would see a distinct depletion in my HP, triggering Shock Conversion.
But reality was different.
Blocking with a shield meant my body suffered negligible damage. Sure, there was a slight impact, but that was it.
And the same went for other attacks. As long as the attack didn’t hit me, the damage transmitted to my body was minimal. Therefore, recovery was minimal as well.
In essence, it means that Shock Conversion is pointless unless my defense is breached?
What kind of nonsense is this! If my defense gets breached, my life is in danger! I could die in one hit! How does Shock Conversion even matter then?
…Ah. I get it. I wondered why a pathetic god would grant me a good skill for taking down the likes of the Second Prince.
I thought he made an error in adjusting rewards based on difficulty, but no. He was simply generous enough to give me something useful.
Damn it! What I thought was an excellent skill actually turned out to be worthless! My frustration peaked, and I smashed the orc’s head with my mace before he threw another punch.
Yet, even that didn’t satiate my anger. My fury couldn’t be quelled by just taking it out on a single orc.
To the orcs in this dungeon: If you want to blame someone, blame that pathetic god. If he hadn’t given me such false hope, this massacre wouldn’t have occurred!
*
Perhaps due to clearing the dungeon so effortlessly, the reward granted by that pathetic god this time was rather underwhelming.
Just a slight boost in stamina, strength, and wisdom.
While the improvements in strength and stamina were whatever.
But wisdom? That has to be some sort of sinister joke!
He’s just mocking me, right? Playing me like an idiot, saying I fell for his tricks!
You filthy, pathetic god! Don’t mess around with your disciple! Maintain some dignity, for crying out loud!
Internally cursing that pathetic god, I returned to the academy roads, immediately heading towards the dormitory.
I planned to further test Shock Conversion with Grandpa in practice mode.
But my goal was thwarted. While walking down the street, one of Alsetin’s lackeys, who had been waiting in the square, approached me.
He brushed past me and discreetly slipped a piece of paper into my hand.
It was a note sent by Karia.
“Boss! Your popularity’s been through the roof! And now with this incident, your reputation has skyrocketed!”
Reputation? Really?
Is that true?
For some reason, whenever the academy kids saw me, they fled in terror!
Is this a case of my stock rising like a joke flipped on its head?
“And it seems someone from the Second Queen’s camp wants to meet the Young Lady. Swing by the shop when you have some time.”
…Huh.
Already?
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