Rejection
Translator: Cinder Translations
...
Yuriko widened his eyes, "You actually want me... to be a student?"
"What's wrong with that?" Rodney XVIII countered, "Aren't Catherine, Ophina, Klein, and Leicester all studying in the Northwest Bay?"
"Speaking of which, I've had an idea. Should I call Catherine and the others back to Crystal Glare to continue leading the kingdom's army?"
Yuriko jumped up like a cat stepped on its tail, "You're crazy!"
The king snorted, "From the letters, it's clear how enthusiastic Catherine and the others are about new knowledge. And she carries Rodney's blood, we share the same grandfather, so it fits my need for wise leadership and your choice of marriage. It's perfect!"
Yuriko glared, "But she now carries the Grayman surname. Her name is Catherine Grayman, no longer Catherine Rodney!"
Rodney XVIII didn't continue to argue with his brother on this matter. He was just trying to provoke Yuriko.
Even if he was magnanimous, he was still a king. As for the former king's daughter, it was better for her to stay away from Crystal Glare in the Northwest Bay.
He sighed, "In any case, I won't grant your wish on this matter, unless you first fulfill my request."
"I understand, Your Majesty Rodney."
Yuriko took a deep breath, respectfully bowed to Rodney XVIII, and left the throne room.
The prince walked briskly, and everyone who met him could see the gloom in his heart, no one dared to speak to him.
He climbed into his luxurious carriage, rushed out of Crystal Glare, and arrived at a manor in the southwest outskirts of the royal capital. This had once been the residence of Prince Jasim's family, and after Gerd succeeded the throne, both Gerd and Prince Jasim had often stayed within Crystal Glare.
Yuriko and August had continued to reside in the manor in the suburbs. Yuriko often held lavish parties there, inviting friends to stay up all night, playing until the day turned to night and vice versa.
The young prince frowned as he entered the manor's hall. A group of servants immediately gathered to help him change and freshen up.
With a bang, the silver-plated tray collided with the oak table's edge.
As the prince untied his scarf, he looked in the direction of the noise, just in time to see the porcelain cup from the tray fall to the floor and shatter with a sharp crack.
The new male servant, holding the tray, froze next to the coat rack, with some mouthwash spilling onto a nearby velvet chair. The watermarks crept over the embroidered royal crest on the chair.
The air was stagnant for three seconds.
Normally, it wouldn't matter much. The prince would just frown. The porcelain cups bought from the Northwest Bay were expensive, but it wouldn't be a big deal to him.
But today, anyone could tell he was in a bad mood.
"Your... Your Highness, I'm terribly sorry. I will be extra careful from now on."
The young servant, beads of sweat glistening under the light, had a pale face like the color of his cuffs. He spoke with a humble and cautious tone, begging for the prince's forgiveness.
The prince stared at the trembling collar of the servant, inexplicably reminded of the "humiliation" he had suffered before his older brother.
The inlaid tortoiseshell cane suddenly swept across the coat rack, making a loud crash as a heap of items fell to the ground. The terrified young servant immediately knelt, holding his breath in silence, waiting for the judgment.
"You lowly people, as stupid as pigs, you can't even handle the smallest task properly!" Yuriko yelled, completely losing control, and stepped forward, kicking the kneeling servant to the ground.
The butler stood stiffly by the door, holding a pocket watch—perhaps checking the time—but the sapphire pendant on the chain trembled with his arm, revealing his own fear.
He dared not step forward to stop him. Since Prince Jasim and Gerd left, Yuriko became the highest authority in the manor. Without restraint, he sometimes showed the side of himself that had been hidden when his father and brother were around.
The prince took out his whip and slowly approached the trembling young servant.
"A person's capacity for responsibility is truly decided by their bloodline. Look at you, with such lowly blood, you can't even carry water properly, let alone handle something more complex!" His tone wasn't reprimanding; it was more like venting.
The black whip rose and fell sharply. With a loud crack, the servant's white shirt was torn open, and he let out a painful groan.
Just as the whip was about to fall again, a voice came from behind Yuriko.
"Yuriko, did your dear brother, our noble King, agree to your request?"
Yuriko turned around angrily, glaring at the newcomer.
"Unfortunately, you guessed wrong. He refused."
...
Northeast of the Aldor Kingdom, shadows appeared in the fields. Old Bartel squinted, counting the distant targets—twenty-three wolves.
He had been chasing them from the forest. The panicked wolf pack had run into the human settlement area.
The whip spun in his hand, and the three hundred cavalry behind him immediately reformed, flanking the wolves from both sides.
The wolves sensed the ground trembling. The lead wolf raised its head and howled, signaling to the pack that the enemy was unavoidable and preparing for battle.
The west wind blew grit into the faces of the orc cavalry, and the encircling net began to close.
At the moment the first arrow tore through the air, the lead wolf dashed toward the southeastern gap, with twenty-three gray shadows following closely behind like a chain scraping the ground.
Bartel grinned, cracking his dry lips. He whipped the air with a thunderous crack, and the three hundred warhorses charged forward. The iron hooves of the warhorses crashed down, flattening the wheat field beneath them.
The wolf pack was about to collide with the moving wall of cavalry, when suddenly the orc cavalry split, letting the most ferocious lead wolf through. The second line of cavalry raised their spears. As the lead wolf leaped, four spears shot forward like venomous snakes. The wolf's teeth barely scraped the tips of the spears, leaving sparks behind. At that moment, the warhammer of the third line of cavalry crashed down, smashing into the wolf's waist with a dull thud, followed by the sound of bones cracking. When the lead wolf hit the ground, it was a twisted corpse.
Losing their leader, the wolf pack scattered in all directions but was quickly driven back by the encircling light cavalry.
An old one-eyed wolf suddenly leaped forward, its front claws landing on the neck of Bartel's mount. Its fangs pierced through the throat guard, but the steaming blood quickly gushed out, and the rider used his scimitar to chop off its head.
The last few wolves were cornered. Their backs were against each other, their fangs dripping with foam, looking much like the enemies who had once fought against the royal cavalry.
Bartel waved his hand, and the surrounding cavalry released their horses' reins, charging toward the remaining prey.
By the time the hunt ended, it was almost evening, and the setting sun cast long shadows of the cavalry. Bartel found the lead wolf and cut off its ears.
Proudly, he held the trophy high, singing loudly with the surrounding soldiers.
The orc cavalry, carrying their prey, sang as they left, leaving behind fields of wheat trampled beyond recognition.
TL/N: I have no idea what just happened.
(End of the Chapter)
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