Chapter 20
“… .”
“… … .”
He looks down at his hands, which are covered in dried mud.
Wearing dirty clothes, having dry leaves clinging onto him, and now coated in mud, he looks like anyone facing homelessness. Additionally, the water he came into contact with had a foul smell that lingers on him.
Newcastle clapped his hands once.
“Look, you are perfect!”
“… … .”
He seems rather excited for someone who just drenched an unsuspecting person with muddy water.
Noticing his silence, Newcastle raised both hands.
“Now, now, there’s no need to be angry. I did mention earlier that I would splash you with some muddy water since you remain unconvinced by your disguise.”
And he certainly kept that promise. Cielo wished he hadn’t.
“That was hardly what you could call a “splash” though.”
He commented as he polished the sunglasses hanging around his neck with a clean part of his shirt. It felt as if a torrent of water had suddenly drenched him.
“Same thing.”
“No, it’s not.”
The man simply shrugged in reply.
Cielo brought his sleeves to his nose and took a sniff.
“Where is this smell coming from? What water did you pour on me?”
The smell was mild and not as disgusting as he expected. However, it was the first time he had smelled something like this, which made him curious. Cielo only hopes it’s not sewer water.
“Nothing contaminated, I assure you that.”
Newcastle put on a cheeky smile before covering his head with the hood.
“Wear the glasses.”
He didn’t have to be told twice and immediately wore the sunglasses.
At that moment, the prince arrived on a horse with his soldiers in tow. All of them wore the same uniform that Newcastle was wearing, except that they didn’t have the emerald brooch on their chests.
‘I remember Alistair having one too.’
The emerald brooch is most likely exclusive to the prince’s aides. So far, the only people he has seen wearing it are Alistair and Newcastle.
Anyway, their entrance is striking, reminiscent of scenes from films.
‘It’s the faces.’
Somehow, the soldiers are remarkably handsome and have striking physiques.
Now that he thinks about this, it is the first time he has met plenty of new people in a while. It’s a rare occasion, whether in his old world or this world.
“Your Imperial Highness!”
Newcastle rendered a salute.
That was his signal. It’s time to do his part.
“W, who are you?”
He asks while fidgeting with his fingers, making a picture-perfect image of a homeless person becoming nervous and scared in front of a luxurious-looking young master, with several uniformed soldiers following behind him.
Moreover, due to his unfamiliarity with their language, he found it challenging to articulate his thoughts clearly. However, this aligns with the common perception that homeless individuals lack education.
‘I can’t believe I’m so good at being homeless.’
He doesn’t know what to feel about that.
“This is His Imperial Highness the 14th Imperial Prince, the esteemed individual I have the honor of serving and the head of operations.”
Newcastle introduced.
‘He is really good at this.’
Thought Cielo. The performance of his former mentor is of the utmost quality.
“My god—goodness!”
Cielo quickly sprang into action, kneeling dramatically, fully aware of the eyes upon him.
“Your Imperial Highness! This is a horror!”
“…Horror?”
A wave of embarrassment washed over him. It wasn’t his fault that “horror” and “honor” sounded so similar in their language. Fortunately, with his forehead pressed against the ground, they couldn’t see the slight blush on his cheeks. Not that it would stand out much, considering he was covered in dirt.
“Honor! I meant to say great honor! An extraordinary honor!”
“…Who might this person be?”
The 14th Prince swiftly turned and asked Newcastle with an air of nonchalance.
Cielo kept his eyes down and remained silent, following the etiquette advice Alistair had given him recently. The nobility typically expected others to kneel and bow, reinforcing their sense of superiority.
“This person was the one who helped me locate the base and two of their operation areas, Your Imperial Highness.”
‘He is unexpectedly calm.’
Newcastle seemed surprisingly at ease while working. He thought he would be stricter and more serious, maybe even a little scary because of the importance of their job. But instead, he appeared relaxed and involved, almost casual. Was this really who he was?
Cielo couldn’t shake off the thought, as it felt like a piece of a puzzle that didn’t match the picture he had of the man.
“Have you confirmed it?”
“Yes, all of his claims are correct.”
“Is that so?”
The 14th Prince stepped closer and stopped right in front of him.
“Raise your head.”
The Imperial Prince instructed, his voice low and steady.
Cielo took a deep breath to stifle a laugh before lifting his eyes.
The prince paused and examined his face closely before covering his mouth and coughing, averting his eyes.
“… .”
He could tell Konstantinos was laughing at his face.
Cielo glanced at the soldiers behind him and could tell they misunderstood the prince’s reaction. They likely thought Konstantinos covered his mouth because of the unpleasant smell coming from him.
One soldier, clearly eager to assist, extended his handkerchief to the prince, a gesture that was both well-meaning and misguided. The prince, however, quickly refused the offer with a slight shake of his head. The soldier’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he stepped back.
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After regaining his composure, Konstantinos took on a relaxed attitude. The air around him shifted, becoming lighter.
‘He bounced back quickly.’
Cielo internally praised the prince for his mastery of his emotions.
“Do you hail from the slums?”
“Yep—yes, Your Imperial Highness!”
Konstantinos acknowledged with a nod.
“I appreciate your help. I will ensure you receive appropriate compensation later.”
“Thank you much—very much, Your Imperial Highness! I will forget—not forget this mercy you’ve bestowed me!”
He executed an exaggerated bow once again.
The 14th Prince acknowledged the situation with a nod and gestured for the imposing figure at the back, whose muscular physique was unmistakable, to step forward. His expression was that of a seasoned warrior, having faced countless battles—truly formidable!
“Take care of this thing.”
‘Thing…’
This insolent brat referred to him in such a way! Is that not a violation of decorum for a prince of his rank?
His gaze shifted to Newcastle, who had been suppressing his laughter since earlier. The man didn’t even attempt to remind the prince to act appropriately.
“I mean this person.”
The prince corrected.
“They might pursue revenge against him for snitching them, and this situation could turn dangerous in the future.”
“Understood!”
The soldier saluted.
He only realized that Konstantinos had assigned a different bodyguard instead of Newcastle when they started to move away, causing him to call out to the prince.
“W, wait, Your Im—”
Just as he was about to say the prince’s name, Newcastle silently conveyed to him.
‘I’ll be nearby.’
With a casual wave, Newcastle left with the prince, leaving him to watch their departure and feel alone.
A group of soldiers was dispatched to Guhya City, tasked with investigating the two locations he had supposedly pointed out during their earlier discussions. Meanwhile, Newcastle, the prince, and five other soldiers made their way to the warehouse.
Cielo stayed in the hut, accompanied only by his bodyguard for the day. The guard stood still, one arm behind him and the other resting on his sword, seemingly so absorbed that he was reluctant to start a conversation.
“… .”
“… … .”
“Exam—Excuse me?”
In the end, Cielo decided to take action, but his call was met with silence. Was the bodyguard unable to hear him, or was he merely choosing to ignore his call?
“Sir Sold Out! Soldier! Hey!”
He raised his voice this time.
The soldier shot him a scornful glance.
“I am a knight. Do you not see my golden insignia?”
The knight declared, puffing out his chest in an attempt to assert his authority. He made a sweeping motion toward the emblem on his sleeve, partially hidden by his cloak, its gold glinting in the sunlight like a mark of bravery.
‘Gold? I’ve seen some with silver insignias.’
To be honest, Cielo can’t tell the difference between a soldier and a knight. He only realizes that knights must have golden insignia while soldiers have silvers.
Gold is higher quality than silver right? This is his logic for differentiating between knights and soldiers.
Cielo raised both of his arms as an apology.
‘Ah, sorry about that.”
“Lower your voice. You’re interrupting the operation.”
Unlike his earlier encounter with the prince, the knight’s tone was strikingly harsh this time. This led Cielo to wonder if he was trying to instill fear or if this was merely typical behavior for soldiers. After all, the operation is quite far from where they are, so there’s no reason for him to create any disturbances.
“God—got it. I have a question.”
“…What is it?”
The knight didn’t bother to glance at him this time.
“What is the bast—the 14th prince like?”
In truth, his question stemmed not from authentic curiosity but was a deliberate part of their plan. Staying silent until the operation’s end would arouse suspicion. He had to show some enthusiasm, as winning the favor of an Imperial Prince is a considerable honor, a fact recognized by everyone, including him.
The knight’s face hardened at the question.
“I have nothing to say.”
He replied curtly, his voice low and gravelly, like stones grinding together. His attitude unmistakably reflected his irritation with the question.
Cielo tilted his head and asked for clarification, hoping to gain more insight into the knight’s response.
“Cease your inquiries.”
The knight shot back, his voice cutting through the thick silence with unexpected intensity.
Cielo flinched in surprise, taken aback by the knight’s sudden passion. This reaction felt fitting, as the knight seemed to take pleasure in the discomfort he had caused.
‘It appears that not everyone thinks highly of the prince.’
It kind of makes sense given Konstantinos’s nasty personality. After all, working for someone doesn’t require liking them. He had witnessed this scenario many times in his previous world.
“Hey, Sir knight, do you think His Imperial Highness would let me woke—work for him as a servant!?”
Cielo cringed at his own acting but had to keep up the act.
“I can do everything!”
I can’t do anything.
“Wake—washing the dishes, sweeping the floor, cooking dishes, anything. I’m pretty good at everything!”
The truth is that he has no cooking abilities and is not skilled in household chores, as he spends most of his time lounging in bed. When he came into this world, Alistair took care of his needs by providing him with food and clothing. Additionally, the West Wing is kept clean by magic, so he has never had the chance to hold a broom.
Basically, his education has been restricted to magic, the Fidellan modern and ancient language, all of which have little practical use since he cannot perform magic.
“I will—won’t complain even if they assigned me in the stables!”
With his weak stomach, he is bound to either faint or be sick before he even approaches the stables, much less begin the task of cleaning up waste.
The knight clicked his tongue in disapproval as he took in the eager, dirt-smudged face hidden behind unusual dark glasses. He couldn’t help but reflect on the absurdity of the scene: why was this out-of-place individual in possession of such a finely crafted item? It seemed far too sophisticated for someone of his apparent standing.
“The palace is already inundated with orphans. Must we now extend our hospitality to the homeless as well? Return to your rightful place. Those of your kind should not further tarnish the Imperial Grounds.”
“So… is that no?”
The knight shot him a fierce glare, effectively silencing any further questions. The intensity of his stare was meant to convey a sense of finality, making it abundantly clear that there would be no room for negotiation or compassion.
‘He is that kind of person, huh?’
A person who cannot bear to be in the presence of those he considers inferior.
Cielo considered hurling an insult at the knight but held back, aware that such an action would contradict his principles. He had always taken pride in his ability to remain composed, even when provoked. However, the knight’s arrogance was so evident that it made the atmosphere feel stifling.
The knight casually swept his hair back, moving with a grace that suggested he was trying to intimidate him rather than simply carrying out his duty of guarding a commoner. He flashed Cielo a disingenuous smile, the least convincing expression he had seen all week. This pretense did not extend to his icy eyes, which revealed his true disdain for those he considered beneath him.
“Why not retreat to the sewers you call home while I assist His Imperial Highness? And while you’re at it, hand over those stolen glasses.”
The knight sneered, his voice dripping with condescension.
“… .”
Cielo’s mind raced with confusion and disbelief.
Now he was outright openly defying the prince’s orders, boldly challenging the established authority. To make matters worse, he was trying to rob a poor soul!
‘Why on earth did the prince assign this person to guard me!?’
This knight was the kind who would use him as nothing more than a meat shield rather than someone to genuinely safeguard! Just the thought of it sent chills of fear down his spine.
“I can’t! I’m sorry, but I have to heart—hear His Imperial Highness’s decision!”
He shouted, clutching himself in fear.
‘Damn it.’
All he wanted was to escape. Cielo continuously berated Newcastle in his thoughts as he nervously surveyed his surroundings.
Realizing that trying to persuade him was pointless, the knight muttered curses under his breath but held back from saying anything more. Thankfully, he recognized that he couldn’t force him to leave against his will and back down.
Cielo peered at the knight from beneath his lashes.
He could either be a nobleman vying for the prince’s favor or perhaps a spy, which would explain his disloyalty to Konstantinos.
‘That prince certainly has a knack for surrounding himself with useless people.’
In this era, those who display disloyalty represent the most significant danger, as they can betray at any moment.
The 14th Prince has also opted to keep Cielo, who lacks magical powers, close by. Fortunately for the prince, Cielo has no plans for treachery, even though he yearns for freedom.
‘Freedom does not equate to greed!’
Cielo let out a frustrated sigh after regaining his composure. Having already provoked the knight’s anger, he decided to stay quiet until the mission was over, hoping to avoid any physical altercation, as the knight’s attitude hinted at looming aggression.
Bang!
He sensed a variety of sounds around him—clanging metal, muffled voices, and the distant thud of boots on the ground. The air was thick with tension, infused with the smell of wet earth and the metallic tang of blood.
It is beginning.
A chill ran through him as he realized the seriousness of the situation. The battle had begun, and instead of surrendering, the opponents had opted to confront each other with intensity, showcasing their determination through their aggressive actions.