CHAPTER 13

Prove Your Worth (3)

"Hmm."

The emperor rested his chin on his hand.

Alone in the throne room, with all others dismissed, he sat upon his throne, quietly smiling.

"So, he asks for an opportunity to prove which of the two—himself or the second prince—is truly worthy. Ha. Ha."

The emperor thought back to his eldest son, Rakiel, who had just left.

He replayed the words his son had spoken. The more he recalled, the more astonishing it seemed.

It was no wonder.

"Since when did that boy have such a side to him?"

He had dared to stand firm against the emperor himself. Even under the weight of authority and pressure, he did not bend. Instead, he remained upright, meeting the emperor's gaze head-on.

What was even more surprising was that Rakiel had done so without baring his fangs.

"Most would struggle against authority and oppression, rebelling in the process. Often, they would cross the line in defiance. That would be the expected reaction."

But Rakiel did not.

He was not rebellious.

If anything, he was calm.

He did not show a hint of hesitation.

He maintained his composure, facing the emperor's pressure with unwavering rationality. That meant he did not feel burdened by the emperor's presence.

"And then, he even made a counteroffer."

The emperor had assumed that Rakiel would crumble easily, that he would yield without resistance. That was why he had made his proposal in the first place.

But Rakiel did not break. Instead, he presented an entirely unexpected counterproposal.

"An opportunity to prove his worth, he says."

Rakiel's voice still echoed in his mind—calm and unwavering, as though he were certain his counteroffer would be accepted.

'If Your Majesty permits, I would like to duel the second prince in swordsmanship, two weeks from now.'

It was the emperor who had lost his composure upon hearing those words. He had found it utterly absurd.

'A duel?'

Rakiel had answered immediately.

'Yes, Your Majesty. Due to my frail body and lack of physical strength, I am regarded with doubt. Many believe I am unfit to uphold the position of Crown Prince, that I cannot bear its weight. Thus, I wish to prove them wrong and demonstrate that I am worthy.'

'You wish to prove your health and resilience?'

'Yes, Your Majesty. That is why I wish to cross swords with the second prince.'

'And you believe you can win against him?'

'It is said that one cannot judge the outcome until the battle has been fought.'

'Ridiculous. You know that the second prince possesses a single-circle mastery of the Asrahan Sword Art and has been trained by a renowned knight since childhood, do you not?'

'Yes, I am aware.'

'And you also know that you, due to your lifelong frailty, have never been able to properly train in swordsmanship, nor even run without difficulty?'

'Of course.'

'Yet you still insist on dueling the second prince to prove your worth?'

'Yes, Your Majesty.'

'I doubt you could last even five minutes against him, let alone win.'

'Still, is it not true that no one can know the outcome until the battle is fought?'

'You are truly that confident?'

'Yes.'

'It seems like mere recklessness to me.'

'Please consider it as part of my own strategy.'

'Is that so?'

'Yes, Your Majesty.'

At that moment, the emperor had a realization—Rakiel was doing this on purpose. He was making a proposal with full knowledge that he would lose.

And so, the emperor had readily nodded.

'Very well. I accept your proposal. I shall decide on the location and inform you. As you wish, in two weeks, you shall duel the second prince and prove your resilience. However, the condition for victory will not be to win the duel but rather to endure for five minutes without falling.'

'…Why is that?'

'Consider it a small kindness from me.'

It was, indeed, an act of kindness.

After all, it was inevitable that Rakiel would lose. No, it was not just a matter of losing—the idea that he could even endure for five minutes was nearly miraculous.

"When the duel begins… will he even last a minute? No, even thirty seconds?"

The emperor muttered, deep in thought.

He soon shook his head heavily.

The duel would unquestionably end in the second prince's victory. That was a foregone conclusion. And Rakiel surely knew that from the very beginning.

The emperor was convinced of it.

"Haah. I had misjudged you. Your insight remains as sharp as ever."

Somehow, he felt like he understood Rakiel's intentions.

His eldest son had chosen not to accept a mere concession but to formally pass on the title through a legitimate duel. By losing in an impartial battle, he would solidify the second prince's claim to the throne.

Through that, he would grant his younger brother an even stronger legitimacy…

"You have chosen to sacrifice yourself."

Emperor Asterion clenched his throne tightly, overcome with emotion. A complex smile appeared on his lips.

He was proud.

The son who had always been a disappointment, whom he had all but given up on, had made such an admirable decision on his own. It filled him with pride and joy.

At the same time, it saddened him.

It was Rakiel, with his intelligence and insight, who should have inherited the throne. But reality made that impossible. The fact that his son was willing to sacrifice himself only deepened his sorrow—as an emperor, but even more so as a father.

Yet, the emperor had no idea…

That he was completely misunderstanding Rakiel's true intentions.

Because Rakiel…

♣

"Sacrifice, my ass. Why the hell would I throw the match? I'm going to win—no matter what."

Clatter, clatter.

Inside the carriage returning to the secluded palace, Rakiel chuckled.

He thought back to the emperor's reaction. The words his father had spoken. The more he recalled, the funnier it seemed.

He couldn't help but laugh.

'That old man totally misunderstood my proposal.'

He had proposed a duel with the second prince. At first, the emperor had reacted as if it were absurd. But then, his expression had softened into satisfaction. The warm, proud gaze he had directed at Rakiel had been a bonus.

'Did he really think I was offering myself up as some noble sacrifice?'

Most likely.

Which was fine by Rakiel.

It was easier to let them keep misunderstanding.

Thanks to that, the emperor had accepted his proposal without hesitation.

And the emperor wasn't the only one who had misunderstood. That very evening, an unexpected visitor arrived at the secluded palace.

The second prince.

"It has been a while, brother. Or should I say, Crown Prince."

"..."

"I heard something today that I could scarcely believe… and so, out of concern, I came here immediately."

"..."

"Brother?"

"Tch."

Rakiel clicked his tongue.

There was no doubt. The man standing before him was the second prince. His appearance was exactly as described in The Swordmaster Emperor's illustrations.

And yet, it seemed this fool had completely misinterpreted Rakiel's proposal as well.

—

They all misunderstood. The emperor, the second prince, even Rakiel's own knight.

None of them expected him to win.

Which made things all the more amusing.

Because from the very beginning…

Rakiel had every intention of doing just that.