The Wastrel Prince Becomes Ruthless Chapter 58

After finishing his errands outside for a while, Yuwon was returning to the inner fortress.

That was when suspicious figures began to follow him. Yuwon immediately sensed their presence.

‘There’s more than one or two of them. This prickling on the back of my neck—looks like I can’t just head home quietly.’

Yuwon, who had been heading toward his quarters, suddenly changed direction and started walking toward the outer fortress.

The people tailing him immediately followed suit.

After running for a few minutes, Yuwon arrived at a deserted back alley in the outer fortress.

‘Only me and those guys’ presence. This should do.’

After confirming there was no one else around, Yuwon came to a halt. Without turning back, he spoke quietly.

“I don’t know what business you have with me, but you should stop sneaking around like that. You’ve already been caught, after all.”

At those words, the ones tailing him scattered in all directions, turning on their heels. They ran back the way they came at full speed, as if their entire pursuit had been for nothing.

‘You think you can just run off…!’

For whatever reason they had been following him, Yuwon couldn’t simply let them go. Just as he was about to chase after them, a man stepped out and walked toward him, blocking his path.

“…?”

The face was a familiar one even to Yuwon — it was Count Valaris.

“You’ve got quite the sharp instincts, boy. But if you knew, you should’ve chosen to avoid me instead… Trying to draw me out for a confrontation? That wasn’t a very wise choice.”

‘What? Why is the Count following me around?’

The unexpected appearance left Yuwon momentarily stunned as he took in the situation.

He never imagined the one tailing him would be the Count himself.

“Or are you expecting your missing comrades to bring reinforcements?”

‘This… looks like a complete misunderstanding.’

As Yuwon tried to figure out what was going on, the Count inadvertently gave him a clue.

From the man’s triumphant tone and words, Yuwon quickly pieced together the situation.

‘The ones who were tailing me from the start were a different group, and the Count joined in midway.’

Just as Yuwon had mistaken them all for one group, the Count had mistaken Yuwon and the people behind him as being together.

“Your silence tells me I was right. But don’t get your hopes up. By the time your comrades return, you’ll already be arrested and sent to the castle. I can’t just let a suspicious man wander free in times like these.”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but this is a misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding? Whether it’s a misunderstanding or not, that’s for me to decide.”

Unlike Yuwon, who had already understood the situation, the Count’s misunderstanding only deepened as he let his imagination run wild.

‘What should I do with this…’

If Yuwon were to remove his robe and mask and reveal his identity, the matter would be resolved quickly and easily. However, what came next would be a problem.

‘If I do that, I’ll have to explain the entire affair involving Marcellus and Hastings… That’s not something I can just go around sharing. Or should I just…’

The incident regarding Hastings’ kidnapping was not something that could benefit anyone if it became known. As Yuwon deliberated, the Count pressed him further.

“I’ll give you five seconds. Surrender peacefully, and I’ll treat you with a gentleman’s courtesy. But if you try to run or resist, things won’t end well for you. This is your last chance—surrender.”

The arrogant gleam in his eyes and his pompous tone, as if saying I am Count Valaris, protector of the South, what could you possibly do?, finally pushed Yuwon to a decision.

What sealed that decision was that the traces of the suspicious men Yuwon had been tracking so intently had completely vanished.

They were already gone—he could no longer sense their presence.

‘Damn it, I let those suspicious bastards slip away while bickering with this old man.’

They had been the ones who followed him after he left the Thieves’ Guild. Perhaps they were after his gold coins—but if they had anything to do with his current assignment, they were not ones he could afford to lose.

‘And yet I just let them go…’

Yuwon, who rarely lost his temper, could feel anger boiling within him. He shut his eyes tightly, took a breath, and opened them again. Then his lips parted firmly.

“Count. Know that making me waste my time comes at a high price.”

Shiiing—!

Yuwon drew a dagger from his robe.

“So, words won’t do after all.”

As if he had been waiting for this, the Count also drew his sword from his waist.

Two blades were unsheathed at once. The eerie metallic harmony of swords echoed through the empty back alley of the outer fortress.

The two blades crossed, each aiming for the other’s throat.

Their eyes locked in the air—

Clang—!

Yuwon and the Count clashed.

Clang—!

The impact of their first clash was so intense that it wouldn’t have been surprising if one of their blades had shattered.

The sound was enough to deafen, but neither man paid it any mind as they continued swinging at one another.

With swift movements, Yuwon’s dagger traced a half-moon through the air. The Count’s sword descended like a lightning bolt, intercepting it.

Whoosh—!

Left to right, up to down—their weapons tore through the air, leaving behind a series of cutting shockwaves.

Their blades crossed in a blazing X, sparks scattering.

Clang—!

The fierce rebound from the Count’s swing sent a numbing shock through Yuwon’s fingertips. The pain quickly turned into exhilaration—and then into pure thrill.

‘Yes, this is it!’

It was unlike any of the one-sided battles he had experienced so far.

‘He really is strong!’

After just a few exchanges, Yuwon could tell—the Count was stronger than anyone he had crossed blades with during his time as Yurion.

‘Yes, this is what it takes to call oneself the Protector of the South!’

The tension was unlike anything he had ever felt, even on battlefields where countless lives had been lost. His heart pounded with excitement—the kind of fighting spirit he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Perhaps it was that thrill which stirred the serpent coiled in his heart, making it roar like a dragon.

Kuoooh―!

Yuwon lunged forward, his dagger shooting out like an arrow. The blade became a glinting dot aimed straight at the Count’s throat.

The Count stepped back half a pace and swung his sword in a short arc, deflecting the attack.

When one strike was blocked, the next flowed naturally from it like water.

The instant his thrust was parried, Yuwon redirected the recoil through his waist and legs.

Spinning on his heel, his dagger sliced through the air in a fierce circle, targeting the Count’s waist.

Although the Count had certainly irritated him, Yuwon hadn’t intended to kill him. His blows were restrained—at first. But as the Count calmly deflected one attack after another, Yuwon’s excitement grew, and so did the ferocity of his strikes.

‘No need to show mercy as if I were fighting small fry!’

Even now, Yuwon wasn’t fighting with his full strength. Yet neither was he deliberately holding back his abilities.

He struck like lightning, crashed down like surging waves. His attacks came in relentless succession.

No matter how Yuwon pressed forward—whether fast or slow—the Count parried every strike.

In truth, Yuwon had planned to end the duel within a few moves and leave. But once his fighting instincts ignited, it wasn’t that simple anymore. At this moment, he felt like a child savoring candy, reluctant to finish too quickly.

Though he had gained a new life and lived as a Prince, the swordsman’s instinct within him had never disappeared.

Yuwon now unleashed that long-suppressed instinct in full, driving the Count into a corner with relentless precision.

Kaang―! Pakang―!

Yuwon’s short dagger and the Count’s longsword clashed in midair several times each second, scattering sparks.

‘Th-this monster…!’

Yuwon was exhilarated, but the Count, struggling to keep up, certainly was not.

In fact, things weren’t going as smoothly for the Count as Yuwon imagined. He was barely managing to block each blow, and it was pure torment.

‘No, at this rate—I’ll really die!’

The Count was blocking every one of Yuwon’s fierce strikes with all his strength.

Had it been someone like the Second Prince or Curington, both of whom had once crossed swords with Yuwon, they would have died more than a dozen times over by now.

For the first time since his reckless youth in his twenties, the Count felt the very real threat of death as he desperately held out.

‘This lunatic… he’s truly strong! Where did a monster like this come from…!’

While Yuwon was lightly venting his irritation and enjoying the fight, for the Count every single exchange was a battle between life and death.

The only saving grace—the one sliver of fortune—was that Yuwon had not imbued his dagger with inner power, since he had no intention of killing the Count.

‘Judging by his movements, he’s not refraining from using magic because he can’t—he simply doesn’t need to. If I try to coat my blade with mana first, I’ll die right here.’

Having lived his entire life as the Protector of the South, surviving countless wars and perils, the Count understood this perfectly. He considered striking back with magic to turn the tide, but he knew that doing so would surely cost him his life.

‘Forgive me, Renania… It seems your father’s end has come.’

Yuwon had no intention of killing him, yet the Count, caught in the illusion of his own impending death, was already bidding farewell to his life.

He was paying dearly for the mistake of crossing Yuwon.

While the Count was standing alone at the crossroads between life and death, Hastings and his group were finishing their errands at the market, preparing to return.

“Hey, Hastings. You felt something weird earlier, didn’t you? That’s why you just stood there staring for a while, right?”

“Yes, but I’m sure it was just my imagination.”

“Maybe not. The market’s been feeling strange. While I was buying some meat earlier, I asked around, and guess what—they say a subjugation force arrived from the Capital.”

At that, Hastings’ eyes widened.

“A subjugation force from the Capital? Then, could it be—?”

“Yeah. They say the participants of the Houkijisu Tournament came pouring in together. Even His Highness the Fifth Prince himself. Honestly, if I wasn’t busy keeping an eye on you, I wouldn’t have had to hear that kind of news from some butcher at the market. Ah, the things I do for you.”

The man kept talking, but Hastings’ thoughts were entirely on Yuwon’s arrival.

“Ah… His Highness… So that means the scent I caught earlier really could have been His Highness’s.”

“Well, yeah. I don’t know why His Highness would be here at the market, but I suppose it’s not entirely impossible.”

“I… see…”

“What’s wrong? Feeling restless knowing His Highness is nearby?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, sure. You can lie all you want, kid. I’ll be nice this once—go say hello.”

Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been impossible for him to leave his post like this, but his senior, who knew well the close bond between Hastings and the Fifth Prince, turned a blind eye and gave him the time.

“…Really? You mean it?”

“Yeah, idiot. Go now before I change my mind. His Highness probably still thinks you’re missing, so just let him know you’re safe and not to worry. And don’t run your mouth about anything else—it’s not the time for that yet.”

“Then I’ll go right away! Thank you, sir! Please take care of these for me!”

The moment he got permission, Hastings handed all his baggage to his senior and bolted off.

With swift, refined movements completely unlike the old bookworm he used to be, Hastings quickly vanished from his superior’s sight.

“Seriously… how long has it even been since he enlisted? That talent of his—why on earth didn’t he pick up a sword sooner? Learns faster than anyone I’ve seen… that monster.”

As his senior muttered to himself, Hastings had already completely erased his presence. His stealth was so perfect that it didn’t feel like he was melting into the shadows—but rather that the shadows themselves embraced him.

For generations, the secret order known as the Owls had served the Emperor of Aphahiel.

Yet long ago, its predecessor—the Crows—had supposedly vanished from history, their line thought to be extinct. But the truth was that the Crows’ wings had never been broken.

‘Your Highness, I’m coming to you now.’

Hastings himself was living proof that the Crows still existed. Beneath the hood of his deep robe, a smile of reverence spread across his face.

After decades in hiding, the shadowy Crows, who served their master from the darkness, once again spread their wings.

The Crow soared into the sky.