Chapter 47

The next morning.

I was invited to the council chamber.

Unlike last night, placed on the table was not only a war map, but also a sacred text and a dagger resting on a silver tray.

Their meaning was clearer than words.

The Chancellor announced.

“We welcome Your Highness as a temporary military officer. However, there are conditions.”

The air in the room pulled taut.

“You will not hold command authority over the main force. You will be entrusted with only a small-scale mobile unit. Your mission is the disruption of enemy supply lines.”

The Knight Commander continued.

“The Vice Knight Commander will assist you. He will offer advice, but the final judgment is entrusted to Your Highness.”

The King said quietly.

“This is not a trial. It means bearing an equal responsibility as an ally.”

Silence.

The King indicated the sacred text with his finger.

“Do you swear upon this? That you will not gamble our soldiers and our people lightly.”

A moment of silence.

I stepped forward one pace.

I dropped my gaze to the sacred text placed on the silver tray.

The weight is not that of paper. It is the weight of a pledge.

Marc’s presence wavered slightly. —But I did not look back.

I placed my hand on the hilt of the dagger.

The cold metal transmitted reality to my palm.

The King’s eyes were shooting straight through me.

There is no escape route.

No—I had no intention of choosing from the start. I touched my fingertips to the sacred text.

“I accept.”

There is no hesitation. I continued further.

“I request to hear the number of troops, the scope of the mission, and the limits of my discretionary power.”

The Knight Commander looked into my eyes for a moment.

As if appraising me. Eventually, he answered shortly.

“Details will be conveyed to you later.”

“Understood.”

I nodded. There are no unnecessary words.

---

The only ones remaining in the room were myself and Marc.

Several beats of silence.

Marc stepped closer and said in a low voice,

“Your Highness… it is dangerous.”

I was looking outside the window, at the castle walls hazy in the distance.

“Naturally.”

“You are being tested.”

“I know.”

Marc’s voice grew slightly stiff.

“If you succeed, you will be used; if you fail, you will be cut loose. This is not goodwill.”

I gave a quiet laugh.

“Work is generally like that.”

Marc looked up. I turned around. There was no hesitation in his eyes.

“Since I accepted it, I just have to do it.”

They were short words. But there was resolve in them.

“Having rewritten the treaty, I can no longer remain a ‘man at a desk.’ That King probably wants to verify that.”

Marc pressed his lips together.

“…Then, you intend to win.”

I answered immediately.

“I will create the odds for winning.”

And continued.

“First is information. The enemy’s supply routes, the terrain, the quality of their soldiers. Do not move on emotion. Think in numbers.”

Marc’s eyes softened slightly.

“Understood.”

I asked finally,

“Are you scared?”

“…A little.”

“I am too.”

A beat.

“That is why we prepare.”

The air in the room changed.

The trial had begun.

But that was not a battle to be tested by the King.

It was a battle to go and grasp my own standing.

---

Upon returning to my room, I quietly exhaled. To think it would actually become necessary.

—I thought I would just join the military council. Read the board, show options, and present the optimal solution. I had somehow convinced myself that was my role.

But no. This is not an assembly. It is war.

To attend a military council meant going out to the battlefield.

The common sense of my previous life had somehow dulled me.

Bearing responsibility in a meeting and bearing responsibility amidst flying arrows are not the same thing.

My consciousness had been thin up to that point.

The escort knights. Marc.

They will risk their lives. On my judgment.

The depths of my chest creaked slightly.

Numbers on a desk can be corrected. But lives do not return.

…I was naive.

I am making them participate in a war.

That is the position of a royal.

But on the other hand, that position is also pushing me forward.

Why did I call out to Elysia‘s back that time? Now I understand. A position is a burden, and at the same time, it is courage. I am not a Knight Commander. Nor am I a Chancellor, or a merchant.

But—I am a Prince.

I cannot remain unrelated to a war that has begun. Even if I am just a guest who happened to be present. I will do what I can do.

As a royal.

As a representative of my country.

As one who swore to form an alliance.

There is a knock on the door.

“Your Highness.”

The one who entered was Marc. In his arms were polished armor and a sword.

“For the final check.”

They are offered to me. I take them in my hand. Armor specially made for me. Made lightweight, prioritizing range of motion.

A design not just for standing at the front, but for surviving and commanding.

I draw the sword. A dull, certain sound.

…Ah, I see. Before this personality resided here.

Before I became “me.” I should probably be grateful now to the Leonhart who was called the “inconspicuous prince.”

He had been making efforts in the shadows. He had accumulated training unbeknownst to others. The proof of that remains in this body.

I grip the sword.

The moment I tightened my grip on the hilt, a sensation beyond logic ran through me.

The angle of stepping in. The shifting of the center of gravity. The trajectory of the blade.

Even without thinking, my body knows.

The heat transmitting from the hilt spreads through my whole body as confidence.

I quietly stared at my own face reflected in the blade.

And then, I gave a slight nod.

“…No problem.”

I return it to its sheath. The weight of the sword overlaps with the weight of my resolve.

…Included in this weight are their lives as well.

I raised my face.

“Call the escorts.”

Marc bowed and immediately moved to make the arrangements. Shortly after, six knights entered the room. Five were Imperial Guards directly under the Royal Family. Elites selected and trained since childhood.

And one standing in their center. The Vice Commander of the Royal Imperial Guard Order—the man who was once my sword instructor as well.

He had aged, but his posture was unwavering. His gaze was quiet like steel.

We had shared the journey. Therefore, greetings are unnecessary. I asked shortly.

“Have you heard already?”

The Vice Commander stepped forward one pace.

“I am aware of the matter of the temporary military officer.”

His voice was low, unwavering.

“That you will take charge of a unit and take front-line command.”

“That’s right.”

Our gazes crossed for just an instant. I am not the only one being tested. The Vice Commander continued quietly.

“The escorts are six. Shall we form up emphasizing mobility rather than a normal formation?”

“Naturally. There is no point in just defending.”

The Vice Commander’s eyes narrowed slightly. It was the same eyes from back when I held a wooden sword.

“…Very well.”

The five Imperial Guards dropped to one knee. The Vice Commander followed as well.

“We will obey Your Highness’s commands.”

The depths of my chest grew slightly heavy.

I was the one who decided to take them to the battlefield.

I sheathed my sword.

“We step forward. But we do not step out pointlessly.”

The corners of the Vice Commander’s mouth rose ever so slightly.

“Understood.”

The atmosphere changed to one heading for the battlefield.

…People say war is an honor.

To me, it looks like nothing but calculations.

Can he win without reducing troops? I suppose that is what that King wants to see.

In that case, let us speak with results. That is my battle.

Can I do it?

…I have no choice but to do it.