"A mere ten-year-old child... What makes him worthy of the title of crown prince? Has Father completely lost his mind?"
In a military camp near the borders of Gai, a muscular young man with horns on his forehead paced furiously inside a tent. His frustration and anger filled the confined space as he vented his emotions.
"Your Highness, please watch your words," his attendant, who had entered the tent alongside him, cautioned with a tense expression.
"What are you so scared of? I'm not the only one saying this, am I? Surely, you feel the same way." The prince's tone was filled with disdain as he looked at his anxious attendant.
"Even so, Your Highness, others may complain or gossip, but you cannot afford to," the attendant urged.
"I know," the prince said with a frustrated sigh. "But you must understand how I feel. If Father had chosen one of my other siblings as crown prince, I would have grudgingly accepted it. After all, some of them do have the qualifications. But this? What is this? A ten-year-old child? Does Father truly believe that we—his sons, who are twice, even three times that boy's age—are so inferior to him? Is that how little he thinks of us?"
"Your Highness, please calm down. His Majesty must have had his reasons for such a decision. This is not a decision he would make lightly without consulting the generals and ministers in the capital."
"So you're saying the generals and ministers in the capital also agreed to let my ten-year-old brother become crown prince?"
The young prince turned around, his red eyes burning with anger as he glared at his attendant. If that were true, then things were far worse than he had imagined.
"That seems likely, Your Highness. Otherwise, such a decree would never have reached us here."
"Fine, then. I'm returning to the capital. I need to see for myself what makes this younger brother of mine so exceptional that Father and all the nobles would support him."
"Your Highness, you mustn't! We have not received orders to leave the camp. To return to the capital without permission is to invite punishment," the attendant said, panicking at his master's impulsiveness.
"So what? At worst, I'll face punishment later. Right now, I need to understand what makes this brother of mine so special."
"Ah, so you're willing to risk punishment just to meet me. It seems, dear brother, that you're very curious about me."
Before the prince could take another step, a clear, youthful voice echoed from above. The prince looked up and saw a young boy in elegant black robes hovering in the air, gazing down at him.
"You're Arnold?" The prince narrowed his eyes at the boy, the air around him beginning to grow oppressively hot.
"That's correct," Muria said with a calm smile.
"You're supposed to be in the capital. What are you doing here?" Despite the flames of anger burning in his chest, the prince restrained himself and asked seriously.
"I came to satisfy your curiosity, dear brother, and to save you from the punishment of leaving the camp without orders," Muria replied, his expression gentle. Then, he added with a touch of amusement, "Of course, my main purpose in coming here is to help you face reality."
"What reality?" The prince's horns grew thicker, fiery patterns emerged on his face, and his body began to ignite as he transformed.
"The reality of the gap in power between us."
"So you're confident in your strength, aren't you, little brother? Have you come here just to flaunt it?"
"Not at all," Muria said as he extended a hand toward his brother and pressed downward. "I'm simply here to show you a glimpse of my power."
Boom!
The prince roared and transformed into a five-meter-tall Yama, his body engulfed in flames. But his anger and power were no match for Muria's casual strike. A massive flaming hand descended from the sky, slamming the prince into the ground with overwhelming force.
The impact sent shockwaves rippling across the camp, stirring up clouds of dust and heatwaves. Soldiers rushed out of their tents, alarmed by the ground-shaking commotion, trying to figure out what had just happened.
"Now do you understand why I'm the crown prince and you're not?"
As the dust settled, Muria hovered above, still smiling faintly. Below him, the prince lay in the center of a massive handprint crater, his limbs shattered and his spirit crushed. His glazed eyes stared blankly upward as he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible.
"Your Highness, what are you saying?" The prince's loyal attendant rushed to his side, leaning close to hear his whispered words.
"This isn't real... It can't be real... How can a mere child be this strong? This must be a dream... Yes, I must be dreaming... Hahaha..."
Watching his brother laugh mindlessly, Muria turned away, satisfied. His purpose here was complete. He had demonstrated his power, ensuring this brother would no longer pose a problem after his coronation.
"Wait!"
Just as Muria was about to leave, a voice filled with sorrow and indignation called out. He paused mid-air and glanced down to see his brother's attendant glaring up at him with clenched fists.
"What is it?"
"Prince Arnold, did you really come all the way from the capital just to humiliate my master?"
"Of course not. You're overthinking things," Muria replied with a hint of amusement. Then, with a faint smile, he added, "Why would I go out of my way for someone like your master?"
"Then why..." The attendant's face turned purple with frustration, unable to refute Muria's calm response.
"Your master is merely one of the stops on my journey," Muria explained, his tone as polite and composed as if he were speaking to a noble. "You see, I'm only ten years old. Naturally, some of my older siblings might harbor doubts about me. So, to prevent future trouble, I've decided to visit each of them personally and dispel their concerns before they take root."
"You... You..." The attendant was speechless, while the prince lying in the crater felt hot tears rolling down his cheeks. A deep, indescribable sorrow filled his heart.
"Well, I have other matters to attend to. Take good care of your master and help him sort out his feelings," Muria said as he glanced up at a few generals in armor standing at the edge of the camp. With a casual wave, he vanished into the sky.
"You're back."
Fernand greeted Muria, who had appeared abruptly before him. His expression remained unchanged, having grown accustomed to his son's seemingly omnipotent abilities.
"Yes," Muria replied, using the spatial abilities he had gained from merging with the Balor Flame Demon's heart to return to the palace.
"Did you take care of everything?"
"It's done. I visited every one of them."
"And what did you do to them?" Fernand asked. Muria's speed had outpaced any reports from his messengers, so he had yet to learn the details.
"Nothing much. I simply showed them a small fraction of my strength," Muria replied nonchalantly. Then, seeing Fernand's concerned expression, he added, "No one's life is in danger."
Fernand sighed in relief but immediately frowned. "What do you mean, 'no one's life is in danger'? Did you seriously go around beating up your siblings just short of killing them?"
"Three days from now, you'll officially ascend the throne," Fernand said after a moment, deciding not to reprimand his son—it would be pointless.
"Understood."
"I'll transfer the King's Seal to you now."
"Very well."
As Muria stood calmly, Fernand couldn't help but feel a pang of helplessness. He remembered the excitement he had felt when his father had passed the King's Seal to him. Now, seeing Muria's indifference, he felt an odd sense of inadequacy.
"Prepare to receive the power of our ancestors—and mine," Fernand said.
A dazzling light began to radiate from Fernand's chest. As the light grew brighter, his youthful, vigorous appearance rapidly faded. His hair turned white, his face grew lined and gaunt, and his once-broad frame withered to skin and bones.
When Fernand was reduced to a frail, hunched figure on the verge of collapse, a glowing crystalline core emerged from his chest and floated into the air.
"Take it, Arnold," Fernand said, his voice weak and filled with resignation. The King's Seal, a power passed down from the first monarch of Gai, had sustained his life even as it drained him. With its removal, his days were numbered.
"I can help you live," Muria offered, looking at his now-crippled father.
"I don't want to live anymore," Fernand replied, waving a skeletal hand dismissively. "Being the King of Gai is exhausting!"
"Are you sure?"
______
(≧◡≦) ♡ Support me and read 20 chapters ahead – patreon.com/INNIT
For every 50 Power Stones, one extra chapter will be released on Saturday.