Chapter 39

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 39

Chapter Title: The Regent's Invitation

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"Boss, check this out?"

The White Rose Manor in District 2.

"It's from the Regent Duke. They're holding a banquet at the palace to celebrate the princess's recovery."

Garo picked up the stiff card. It was the top one among the pile of invitations scattered across the table.

"Bro, look at this. It's paper dusted with ground gold. The royals are scraping by without a dime, so where's the Regent Duke getting the cash to sprinkle gold dust on a single invite like this?"

He held the card up close, inspecting it like a specimen.

"Anyway, you're invited too, Boss. Clear your schedule. You're coming with me that day."

"Pass."

The refusal came curtly, as if such trivial matters weren't worth considering.

But Garo, accustomed to Cezare's dismissals, didn't back down.

"If we want to stick around Baldina long-term, we can't outright ignore the Regent Duke. We already promised to show our faces publicly with Prime Minister Sise. You have to go."

"Then you go by yourself."

"Look here—'In the presence of Mercenary Lord Acares.' It says you're to come too, Boss."

Garo rolled the dice across the table. Identical shapes and sizes cluttered and covered the surface.

The pieces engraved with letters on each face rearranged themselves at Garo's gesture, dancing into new patterns.

"They know your reputation and still have the guts to single you out and invite you along."

"......"

"So, you really not going? This guy's the king in all but name, the one and only Regent Duke of this country. Might as well get a look at him while we're at it."

Regent Duke.

Cezare rolled the words around in his mouth indifferently. A smirk tugged at his lips.

"They've slapped an oversized title on a moron."

"Boss, come with me. I'm going just to see the princess's face."

Mischief sparkled once more in his gleeful eyes.

"See? 'Banquet Celebrating the Princess's Recovery.' Doesn't the shady intent in the title alone make you curious?"

In truth, Garo found the Regent Duke of Claudio plenty intriguing himself.

After slicing up his niece's maid and losing his right-hand man and his funding to boot, what stunt was he plotting now?

Even better, the Regent Duke still hadn't figured out that his own niece was the real mastermind behind ousting the former head maid.

"How's a moron like that still breathing?"

"That's why I said it's oversized."

A response finally came.

Hmph, pretending not to listen while hearing everything, huh? Garo snorted and shot back.

"But I doubt the princess will just take it lying down this time either. A while back, she sent someone outside the palace on an errand. I snooped around and found out she gathered several rare herbs."

"And? Probably brewing some potion."

As Cezare brushed it off like no big deal, Garo shouted.

"One of those herbs causes impotence when combined with others!"

The arm holding the glass froze midair.

Garo stretched his cheeks wide, dying of curiosity.

"So who the heck is the princess planning to use that on?"

"Curious about useless crap like that? Guess you're still pretty leisurely, huh."

"No way! I was just taking a quick break! See, back to work now!"

As Cezare spun a dagger from his fingertips, Garo bolted like his tail was on fire, fearing it might fly his way.

The room fell silent. Cezare turned his back.

"Come in, Terence."

A tall young man emerged from the connecting passage, carrying a steaming cup.

His slightly lean frame, long limbs, and swaying gait left an impression.

The glasses perched on his nose and his light brown long hair doubled down on his calm aura.

"Garo's still as noisy as ever."

"If you'd arrived early, you could've come in."

"No point tiring my ears with useless chatter."

Terence adjusted his glasses. His bloodshot eyes betrayed his fatigue.

Ever since accompanying Cezare, he'd spent every night poring over documents, searching for a cure to the curse.

"How's your body?"

"Better. Thanks to you."

Cezare took the cup and answered simply.

The vivid green potion inside smelled acrid as herbs, but he didn't flinch.

Three years since his terminal diagnosis.

Though he'd far exceeded the timeline from his first physician, and despite the near-death seizures, he could still move freely—all thanks to Terence.

The man versed in magic and medicine was deploying all his knowledge to artificially delay the curse's outbreaks.

Examining the arm with bulging blue veins, the man frowned.

"Another seizure. Why didn't you say anything?"

Instead of answering, Cezare just spun the dagger.

"Cezare, time's running out. The intervals are shortening."

The seizures were coming faster. He might not wake next time.

"......I know."

"Even if we find the shaman, can you guarantee they'll lift the curse? What if they don't know how? What then?"

"That's why you're by my side."

"You call that an answer...? Joking at a time like this?"

Terence shot him a glare at his flippant remark.

"Cezare."

The smile faded from his face as he gazed at his friend, replaced by solemnity.

"It's been three years already. Death is closer to you than lifting the curse."

Before subordinate, as a friend, Terence had followed Cezare.

First Prince of Kazen.

Youngest Commander-in-Chief. Duke of Romanya. Lord of the Venafro Principality. Ruler of Alphannon. And captain of Facade's mercenaries to boot.

Titles too numerous and heavy for one man.

But anyone who knew Cezare knew not one was lacking. He'd seized them all with his own hands.

'The one who charges first into the most dangerous path.'

His unbelievably bold decisions and fearless actions captivated people.

Terence was one of those enthralled.

"Behold, Terence. Men like him don't know the word quit. Achievement comes faster than surrender. They never stop until they claim what they want."

His master, the tower lord, had once remarked casually about Cezare.

"So beware. Types like him don't dodge obstacles—they smash them."

But Terence hadn't realized he'd defy even death.

A human challenging primordial forces—brave or reckless?

"Let's go to the Magic Tower. Master can delay the outbreaks as much as possible. Can't erase the primordial darkness, but slow it—"

"So I just sit and wait to die slowly?"

The icy question silenced Terence.

"You know that's not me."

"......"

Terence had seen many patients.

"At this rate... it won't be easy to hold out. Can you really handle it?"

Had anyone not crumbled under the constant waves of terror and despair?

No genius, no noble was exempt before death.

"Need me to answer?"

As if to say you know the answer, Terence let out a sigh laced with admiration and lament.

"......Aren't you scared? Not knowing when the curse might swallow you whole in an instant—how can you stay so calm?"

"Can't you hear it, Terence? The cheers that will echo when I lift this curse."

The one who repelled primordial darkness.

The conqueror who devoured even death.

It would be etched across the continent, beyond Kazen.

"Still clinging to hope in this situation?"

"Nothing in my life hasn't been a gamble."

Cezare placed a hand over his chest.

A dull thud from his hardening heart. He felt death closing in as time tightened.

But he had no intention of sitting idly, waiting for the curse to overwhelm him.

He would seize his slipping fate with his own grip. Until the final flickering moment before life's end, he wouldn't yield.

His victories had always come that way.

"I control the start and the finish. Even a handful of possibility, and I'll claw for it."

"You, really......"

Flames ignited in his golden eyes, flickering dangerously as if to burn everything.

"I have no need for a comfortable death."

On a sunny afternoon, a message from Marquis Giliphos arrived at the Princess Palace.

"Your Highness. A letter from my master."

The soldier village Medea had ordered was successfully established.

They'd created a small settlement for retired soldiers and named it Casey Relief Village after her middle name.

Over half the retired soldiers outside the capital had moved in, and he added that more residents would follow.

Regretfully, no soldier named 'Theo' as per Your Highness's specific instructions was found.

However, after refusing to give up and inquiring throughout the capital and beyond,

we discovered twin siblings named Theo among the family of a long-deceased retired soldier.

Medea had gotten what she wanted.