Chapter 17: The Imperial Prince and the Think Tank
Second Prince Irid gathered every bit of manpower he could summon. For some, he wielded authority; for others, he dangled money; and for a few, he offered recognition. He left no stone unturned.
His petty pride had been tossed aside long ago. In order to rescue Centra, he even reached out to First Princess Elaine, with whom he typically didn’t see eye to eye.
Considering their usual relationship, the odds of her readily accepting his request were slim. Thus, Irid braced himself to take a hit in the throne succession competition, but…
Unexpectedly, the First Princess graciously accepted the invitation, declaring that she would assist her poor little brother as a dutiful noonim. Irid interpreted this as her way of ensuring he owed her a political favor.
On his way to the meeting room, Irid ran into First Princess Elaine.
Draped in an elegant dress with a shawl elegantly wrapped around her neck, she was a sight to behold. Her captivating beauty drew the eye, though her hands, marked with scars, resembled a patchwork mess. Even after three years, she looked just as Irid remembered.
Despite her royal blood, her hair shimmered a platinum hue. But no one dared question her lineage or legitimacy, for she had proven herself time and again.
Moreover, she had quite literally smashed the faces of anyone foolish enough to slander her.
The First Princess entered without an entourage, brimming with the confidence of a lady who had once ventured into the Demon Realm all alone. She always acted like nothing in the world could possibly harm her.
Irid gulped nervously.
“Irid? It’s been a while! Want to hug your noonim like back in the day?”
The First Princess spread her arms wide. Though universally recognized as a friendly gesture, to Irid, it looked like a lion opening its jaws, ready to pounce.
She had always delighted in subjugating Irid. Even when he had celebrated his fourteenth birthday with a grand banquet surrounded by nobles, she had welcomed him then with open arms, too…
Then, as if she were picking up a child, she had lifted him and spun him around—three whole times! Even in protest, he felt like a fly caught in a dragon’s claw, too overwhelmed to speak.
The old Irid would have succumbed and entered the First Princess’s embrace without a second thought.
She would have pulled him close, sinking his face into her generous cleavage while the nobles looked on, judging him less favorably, asserting that the First Princess was more fitting for the throne.
But the current Irid was different.
Reflecting on his memories, he found the courage to stand firm even before a storm.
“I’ll have to decline. Someone else has already claimed my embrace.”
“How sad… But I must say, you seem more manly now, little brother. Have you finally met a woman?”
“I have.”
“…W-Wait, you met someone?!”
Struck by his refusal to yield—so unlike his usual self—the First Princess stumbled over her words in surprise. It was a small act of rebellion, but he felt she had just taken a hit.
Feeling a puff of pride swell within, Irid turned away. He had grown. Now, it was time to begin the meeting intended to save Centra.
“What do you mean by meeting someone…? Could you explain that in a bit more detail? Hmmm?”
===============================================================
“First off, I’d like to thank you for suddenly dropping everything to respond to my call for help. The agenda for today’s meeting is to discuss simulations for rescuing personnel in emergencies and responding to small-scale rebellions. Since the subject is rather complex, I’ve invited various experts. Let’s kick things off with some introductions.”
As the Second Prince initiated the meeting from his head table position, each attendee got up in turn to introduce themselves.
A woman in a crisp suit stood and bowed.
“I’m Analyst C from the Imperial Defense Bureau.”
Next, an elderly man clad in a gray robe nodded from his seat.
“Elder of the Red Magic Tower… Pelson. Quite an eclectic group you’ve assembled.”
The First Princess, sitting at the opposite end, folded her hands modestly.
“I’m First Princess Elaine. It’s delightful to see you all gathered here to assist my younger brother. I’ll make sure to remember your loyalty.”
Second Prince Irid mentally translated her words using the politician’s code.
Beep Boop.
“I’m First Princess Elaine” ⇒ I’m the First Princess, the prime candidate for emperor.
“I’m delighted to see you gathered here to help my younger brother.” ⇒ I’m feeling a bit uneasy.
“I’ll remember your loyalty.” ⇒ I’ll remember your faces well.
Irid shuddered at the sharp political maneuvering by the First Princess. The elder from the Red Magic Tower, who had only joined for some entertainment, looked as though he were pondering an exit.
Irid swiftly reclaimed control of the meeting.
“Those I’ve invited here include you, Noonim. If you’re here to help, I’d appreciate it if you could act accordingly.”
Shut up.
“Oh my, I see… Since it’s my little brother’s meeting, it’s only right he should lead, isn’t it? I was just surprised because it’s my first time here, so could you let this noonim slide?”
Sure, Little Baby, wah wah wah.
Amid this one-sided verbal spar, Irid felt an inner storm brewing. Nevertheless, he recognized that the First Princess would contribute valuable insights during the meeting. She was a master at anything involving physical action. He signaled with a nod for the next person to continue.
A wizard with a wild glint in his eye stood and performed a full 90-degree bow.
“I’m a wizard from the Purple Magic Tower.”
“…Will you not divulge your name?”
“It isn’t a name worthy of mention. I have an alternate title for that.”
The eccentric wizard, brushing off formalities, gestured toward the girl sitting next to him with both hands. She sat frozen in place as if hit by Glaciation Magic.
“She is the Tower Master of the Purple Magic Tower, Yuna Yurensto Violetiris.”
“…Uh, um, ah, n-nice to meet…”
“‘It’s an honor to be invited, Your Highness. I am Tower Master Yuna Violetiris. I shall contribute my meager abilities to the best of my capacity,’” her words were conveyed by the wizard.
“I thought she hadn’t moved a muscle since entering, so I assumed she was a doll. Turns out she’s a real person?”
“…I-I’m so… sorry…”
“She demands an apology from the First Princess for her rudeness to… GAH!”
BAM!
A spectacular one-inch punch landed on the mad wizard’s side.
Fearing the consequences of insulting the imperial family, the Purple Magic Tower Master’s survival instinct kicked in, leading to a rapid-fire introduction; it was like she was trying to barf out her identity!
“I’mTowerMasterYunaVioletirisPleasedtomeetyou!”
As Irid looked at the frantic and desperate Purple Magic Tower Master with sympathy, he decided to lend a hand from the sidelines.
“This male wizard isn’t quite mentally stable. It’s a side effect of his magical research. Please bear with it.”
“No wonder his eyes looked so murky.”
“Ha ha ha… they do say that studying Illusion Magic can drive you a bit off the rails.”
“…T-That kind of slander is… troubling…”
In all the commotion, the last individual—the priest—raised a hand timidly, hoping to introduce himself. However, his efforts were overlooked as if he were an illusion.
The final member of the meeting, War Priest Julius, mumbled shyly.
“Uh, I look forward to working with you all… I’m a former Cardinal, now War Priest, Julius.”
“Why on earth did you take away someone as talented as our Archmage, Purple Magic Tower Master? Our Tower Master was so excited to complete his ‘Sun Superexplosion’ spell…”
“That’s just because he… was intrigued by… Illusion Magic!”
“Isn’t it widely believed that he was brainwashed into choosing the Purple Magic Tower through hypnosis?”
“…Slander…!!”
“I-I’m Julius… Uh, excuse me…?”
As the introductions wrapped up, Irid clapped his hands twice to regain their focus.
“Let’s get this meeting started.”
===============================================================
Irid sketched a detailed diagram of the inn room on a large canvas, including the dimensions, intricate architectural details, and the point where the incident occurred.
“Think of this as a strategy simulation or a wargame. What I need most is assistance with how to achieve my goal in this situation.”
“Are you seriously getting into games at this late stage in your life?”
“Noonim.”
Irid’s eyes gleamed with determination.
“I am serious.”
First Princess Elaine widened her eyes, then broke into a gentle smile.
“…It seems this isn’t a game after all. To think you’ve matured enough to wear such a resolute expression. Alright then, I’ll pay close attention.”
“Great! I’m currently situated in this bedroom, perched on the bed. The explosion occurred at the end of the left corridor. The rescue target was likely attacked right here.”
“Oho, is that why you summoned the Red Magic Tower? Please detail the exact nature of the explosion, the debris, the size of the vibrations, and the aftermath.”
The Elder from the Red Magic Tower, with sparks in his eyes, listened intently to the Second Prince’s recounting and arrived at a conclusion.
“The spell appears to be either ‘Fierce Breath of the Fire Spirit’ or ‘Lament of Ecomic.’ These spells emphasize fire elements more than producing a physical shockwave from a secondary explosion… There are quite a few variables. Got any other clues?”
“I doubt it’s cast by a wizard. None of the gathered people were wizards. It’s premature to conclude anything, but it’s likely a scroll.”
“Then this calculation just got a whole lot simpler! Ah, right. An average mana user wouldn’t die from it unless exceptionally unlucky. From the get-go, these two spells focus on incapacitation rather than killing. A flame’s effect would only cause burns.”
Scratch, scratch.
Upon hearing that, War Priest Julius’s eyes lit up.
“…Aha, Your Highness! You must require emergency treatment sessions! I can instruct you on how to disperse mana that invades the body. This will help if you’ve been caught by Fire Magic… and for your subsequent recovery.”
Analyst C from the Imperial Defense Bureau, scrutinizing the building map, tapped on the table with her finger and declared:
“This inn, its internal layout is familiar. It’s the establishment famously known as the brothel ‘Rosaria.’ It has now been acquired by the Imperial Defense Bureau and is utilized as one of our secret rendezvous spots for agents.”
“…So it was a Defense Bureau base? That explains it.”
There’s a reason it was used as a Resistance’s base, and Irid speculated that perhaps Centra’s father might have ties to the Defense Bureau.
“There’s a secret passage nearby that you might put to use. If it’s not already known to the opposing forces, you can access it. One can open it by drawing a mana door on the wall of the second floor like this.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Scratch, scratch.
Finally, First Princess Elaine moved forward.
“It wouldn’t hurt to run through a few moves. My little brother is a bit clumsy, is he not?”
“…Don’t you even call the Commander of the Knight Order clumsy?”
“If you can’t move the way you want, that’s just clumsiness! Now, tell me about someone likely to appear as an enemy. This may help.”
“Ronya, a female mercenary. She has a scar on her face and wears leather armor. A palm-length dagger hangs at her waist, the handle is highly worn, and her primary weapon seems to be a longsword; word has it she might also be skilled with a crossbow.”
“Her primary weapon probably isn’t a longsword, though? Untrained folks like mercenaries… don’t have the intelligence to pull off longsword techniques. Even if they’d learned it, they wouldn’t put it into practice properly. There are subtleties that one doesn’t gain from a filthy battlefield. Oh, and never take your eyes off that dagger. If she gets desperate, that dagger will be her last resort.”
“Do you think I could kill her?”
“Of course. Remember this maneuver. Longsword techniques are akin to chess; you just have to adjust your stance accurately according to the pattern. When she strikes from above like this… No, let’s just head to the training grounds after the meeting. The War Priest should come along, too.”
Suddenly jolted out of his stupor when his name was called, the War Priest gasped in surprise.
“…Huh?”
“It’s going to be a rough session, you see.”
Scratch, scratch.
“…What on earth have you been jotting down this whole time?”
“Ah, since I have nothing else to do, I thought I’d play scribe.”
The wizard from the Purple Magic Tower diligently transcribed the proceedings of the meeting into his notebook. The discussions continued late into the night; the sound of him writing persisted until the very end.
When the meeting finally concluded, the wizard wore a wide grin.
“I’ve completed the entire session planning.”
It was all because he had outright appropriated it for his own purposes.
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