RPSE 04

Chapter 4

 Only a Trash’s Way (3)

To be completely honest, when I first opened my eyes in Zion Riobelt’s body, I had plenty of complaints.

Even if the possession itself was somehow inevitable… why did it have to be Zion Riobelt—a piece of scum that went far beyond mere trash—when there were so many other normal bastards around?

For the price of losing everything—the realm of a Grand Archmage, the royal bloodline legitimacy of the Devere Dynasty, and the position as leader of the Liberation Army—it felt like I got an empty husk of a body that held strictly nothing in return.

That was why I had concluded that this possession was a total loss with zero benefits.

‘As of this very moment, I need to change my way of thinking.’

“Eeeek!” “T-The 9th Prince is at it again…!”

The surrounding nobles were utterly unable to hide their shock and panic. It was only natural, considering they had just witnessed an outburst so sudden it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it a total loss of control.

…However. There was no need to care about their reactions. In fact, everyone else was busy walking on eggshells around Zion himself.

“At it again? At it again with what? Hey. You, step forward.”

The noble who had shouted something about the 9th Prince being at it again vanished on the spot, as if he had used invisibility magic.

“Anyone else got a problem? Step forward in front of this Prince right now.”

“……” “……” “……”

No matter where I looked—left or right. Rustle, rustle. Everyone was busy lowering their gazes, terrified that they might get dragged into this mess too.

Hah!

‘It’s a bit unfamiliar and awkward… but damn, I love it.’

Zion Blize had never enjoyed a moment like this in his entire life. An overwhelming sense of liberation. A freedom so absolute it was almost unsettling. Zion Riobelt must have spent his entire life enjoying nothing but moments like this.

‘I’ll be sure to make good use of your rotten nature, 9th Prince.’

As I curled the corners of my mouth, the lips of this body twisted into a smirk. Now then, it was time to enjoy the exclusive privileges of a complete piece of human trash.

SLAP!

“Kuuuagh! 9th Prince!”

THWACK!

“This Paul Gebel is, kuh! someone even the 3rd Prince—whom you fear so much—holds in… Gaaaaah!”

I slapped him and kept on beating him. It was, quite literally, a exhilarating beatdown.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

Assaulting someone right near the Imperial Palace, in the middle of an inauguration venue. And the victim was a Marquess scheduled to be appointed as the Governor-General. Even in a novel, readers would criticize this plot development for lacking probability.

However. For the human trash Zion Riobelt, it was entirely possible. Plausibility. Realism. It was all right here!

“Phew. Riegert, the cane.”

The decorative cane Riegert was holding—it had caught my eye from the moment I first saw it. For a decorative piece, it was thick and sturdy, looking very much like a mace.

“Oh dear, Prince! This is going to be a huge disaster! Please, for my sake, I beg you to restrain your—…” “Are you saying you want to get hit in his place?” “Here it is, sir.”

The grip felt absolutely perfect in my hand. Perfect.

‘Could it be that this guy prepared this cane specifically for Zion Riobelt?’

Did Riegert prepare this so he could enjoy watching Zion Riobelt’s cruel actions? Either way, it was an excellent tool. For what? For turning a person into a total cripple.

I swung it like a golf club.

CRACK!

A satisfying, crisp sound of impact. At the same time, the sharp sound of a shinbone snapping—snap!—echoed out.

“Kuh, guhh……” “Does it hurt?” “Ple…ase……”

Begging won’t do you any good. This violence doubled as punishment for the evil deeds you’ve committed so far.

The maid from Gimi, who had been slapped to the ground by Marquess Gebel earlier, was standing behind the Marquess with a face pale with terror. Having come to a distant foreign land to earn money and endure harsh hardships, the young subject’s eyes were filled with pure terror.

‘Half of that is probably fear directed at me. But don’t worry. You have absolutely no reason to fear me.’

I flashed her a smile. Briefly, so no one else would notice—just a momentary glance that could be mistaken for an optical illusion. Yet at the same time, clear and gentle. In an instant, her eyes widened into round circles.

CRACK!

“Pr…ince… please spare my…….”

Your pleas cannot reach this Crown Prince’s compassion, Marquess. The reason is the same as your past actions—just like when you ignored my Royal Father’s desperate plea.

CRUNCH—!

The Marquess’s right knee shattered.

Inside one of the secret safehouses belonging to the Devere Liberation Army. A solemn voice echoed through the room.

“…Acting on behalf of our Lord, Liberation Army Commander Zion Blize, I hereby deliver the operational orders.”

A figure roughly two meters tall, completely covered in a cloak and a pitch-black mask—a shadowy intruder who looked as though he had draped the night over himself—placed a fist over his chest in a respectful salute.

The person responding to him was an old man with snow-white hair and beard, yet possessing a sturdy frame. He was Arist Racial, the temporary leader of the Devere Liberation Society.

“Sighhhhh.”

Even the way Arist Racial let out a sigh exuded noble elegance. He was, after all, the descendant of the Racial Ducal House—the most prestigious noble family in the Devere Kingdom.

“…Rayanna. I am sorry, and I am grateful.”

Rayanna chuckled with an altered, altered voice.

“Don’t look at me like that. I volunteered for this—fully voluntary.”

If Marquess Paul Gebel becomes the colonial Governor-General, the Liberation Army’s long-cherished dream will slip even further away. Therefore, it had to be stopped—even if a high-ranking key officer had to throw away their life in a terror attack.

“Vanguard Commander Rayanna. I have received the command to execute an indefinite assassination operation against Marquess Paul Gebel. I shall take my leave now.”

Just as Rayanna turned to walk away:

“I shall go with you.” “Pardon? You, Arist? All the way to the Imperial Capital?”

The Imperial Capital of the Empire—the very place where the former Commander, Zion Blize, had been captured. Arist placed his fist over his heart.

“Consider it the minimum courtesy I owe you. Besides, I am also going to gather information on the Crown Prince’s recent movements, so do not refuse.”

The Crown Prince.

Hearing those three words—a subject that acted as an untouchable sore spot—Rayanna let out a rough, ragged breath. Scritch-scratch. A harsh scraping noise echoed from beneath the cloak.

“Calm yourself.”

Even as Arist offered words of comfort, his expression remained heavy and dark. In a way, it was only natural. Arist was the one who had helped the young Crown Prince escape the royal palace, educated him, and served as Zion’s foremost loyal retainer and mentor.

“Understood for now. Let us go together, Arist. To the Imperial Capital of the Empire.”

Thus, after much hardship, the two succeeded in sneaking into their intended destination. After spending time deliberating carefully, they also decided on the timing and method of the attack.

At the inauguration ceremony, when that bastard’s propaganda reached its peak—BOOM! Even a small bomb smuggled inside would yield maximum results.

“In three minutes, as soon as that Gebel bastard activates the Mass-Hysteria Magic Tool, I will detonate the bomb.”

Originally, it was a magic tool with only a minuscule effect, but Gebel possessed superior propaganda skills and eloquence, allowing him to maximize its output. He was an irreplaceable talent for the Empire when it came to propaganda. That was precisely why they were going so far as to carry out a terror attack to prevent him from becoming Governor-General.

“Understood. Once again… I pay homage to your loyalty. I will never forget it in this lifetime.” “I will go ahead first. Please, make sure to gift freedom to our motherland.”

Arist and Rayanna shared a solemn, final farewell. However. Rayanna’s body never exploded along with the bomb. Because there was no longer any need for it.

“Ritatadadadap! Ebeup? Ebebeup? Bebeup! Beeeeup!!!” “……?” “……?” “Arist, by any chance… is this another operation planned by the Society?” “No. It’s just the two of us here today.” “Then…?”

To make matters worse, the true chaos was only just beginning.

“Huh? That bastard over there… isn’t that the 9th Prince?”

Arist’s eyes instantly turned razor-sharp, dripping with deep hatred. Members of the Society could never fail to recognize the 9th Prince’s face. Wasn’t it because of that very bastard that their Lord fell into the Empire’s hands and was currently suffering? Imprisoned in the deepest depths of the Empire’s prison, guarded by a ironclad defense that the Society couldn’t break through no matter what they risked.

“9th Prince… I will kill you with my own hands one day, without fail.”

Just as Arist spat out a growl filled with resentment:

CLINK!

“Clink…?”

Marquess Gebel, struck by a wine bottle held by the 9th Prince, was slumping to the ground.

“Huh? Arist, did you see that just now?” “I saw it. What in the world is happening over there right now…?”

And that was only the beginning.

“Marquess Paul Gebel. You have disrespected me!”

THWAACK!!!

The violence delivered by the Empire’s number-one piece of trash slammed into the Marquess’s body.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAAAP!

…It sounded remarkably crisp. Did someone turn on a sound-amplification magic tool? The sound of slaps echoed all the way to their distant location like an echo. …Arist and Rayanna stared at each other in total silence.

“……” “……”

After remaining silent for a long while, Rayanna stood up and casually pulled back the wide black cloak. Revealed beneath were magic bombs strapped across the entire body. Prepared for a terror attack and brought all the way here after painstaking effort…… It seemed there was no longer any need to use them.

“Commander Arist.” “…Yes, Rayanna.” “It looks like I don’t have to die after all?” “So it seems.”

A collaborator of imperialism was currently being beaten like a dog by an Imperial Prince, turning into a half-dead pulp. Rayanna removed a hand from the magic bombs. Arist let out a hearty laugh.

“To think I’d live long enough to receive help from the Empire’s trash Prince, hahaha!”

They were prepared to endure immense sacrifices to carry out the mission, yet the operation succeeded without them doing a single thing. No, to be exact, it was succeeded for them. Since the 9th Prince had just crippled Marquess Gebel right in front of their eyes.

“Considering Marquess Gebel’s capabilities, this inflicts massive damage on the Empire.” “To think I’d see such a traitorous act against his own empire, hohoho!” “Well, that’s strictly from the Empire’s perspective. From our Devere side, there’s no benefactor greater than him!”

Rayanna laughed merrily. A joyful look also filled Arist’s face. How many young lives had been lost while his old body sat as leader, unable to step forward? Even their Lord, the Crown Prince, was one of them…….

‘What a relief. What a true relief.’

“Rayanna! Remove the fuses from the bombs. Let us head back. Regardless, a success is a success, so let’s head back today and have a drink.” “Oh yeah! Coming here to die only to end up at a drinking feast instead! Talk about a windfall, ahaha!”

The two turned around with smiles. At the edge of their vision was the trash Prince, shaking blood off his hands and spitting on the ground.

‘9th Prince, Zion Riobelt.’

You, too, will eventually have to die at the hands of our Society one day.

‘But for today, I shall offer my thanks. Your foolish, trashy actions prevented righteous lives from losing their light.’

“Eek!” “Ah, how cruel…. Ah……” “My lady, are you alright? My lady!” “Someone stop him!” “Who could possibly stop the Prince? Why don’t you try stopping him yourself!”

Observing the reactions around me, I realized one thing: I thought I had to stop at crippling the Marquess, but it seemed I didn’t need to hold back after all.

“Hurry, notify the palace!” “Fetch someone else! Someone who can restrain a member of the Divine Clan!” “Guards! Guards! Guaaards!”

From afar, the sound of clattering armor and rushing footsteps approached. It meant the Imperial Guards were finally running over.

‘Considering this is outside the palace, they’re pretty late.’

No, wait. What if it wasn’t because the banquet hall was large, but for another reason? Should I consider that possibility too?

‘Consider what? It’s not like I’m Kaironi.’

There was an old proverb among ancient mages: “You can decipher a ten-page magic formula in a single breath, yet you can’t make heads or tails of a single-page human diary.”

Zion was the same way. He was quick-witted and good at picking up on subtle anomalies, but he was terrible at interpreting what those anomalies actually meant.

‘For now, let’s just focus on beating this guy up.’

Ah, how delightful.

“Your Highness! Stop this instant!”

The guards pushed their way in, creating distance between the Marquess and Zion. Since they couldn’t dare apply physical force to the Prince’s divine body, they used their own bodies to block him. However, Zion was not yet satisfied.

“Do not butt in.”

A low murmur. Yet it weighed heavier than a thousand gold pieces. The guards flinched and halted their movement. Their bodies reacted before their minds could. It was like the dignity occasionally displayed by the other Princes… no. It was a pressure even greater than that.

“P-Prince……”

‘If I disobey his order… he might beat me up too…….’ ‘The 9th Prince has never radiated an aura like this before.’ ‘Was he someone capable of exuding such an overwhelming aura?’

“It’ll be over soon anyway. Just stand there and watch.”

After sweeping a glance over the guards and the surrounding nobles, one by one, I stood before the Marquess once more.

“Marquess.” “Kuh….” “You committed an insolent act against this Prince, a member of the Divine Clan. This is a insult and disrespect toward the Imperial Family. In other words, you are a grave criminal.”

I intentionally raised my voice loud. It was to draw the attention of everyone nearby. After that, I grabbed the Marquess by his collar and pulled him close. Because I had something to tell him right in his ear. I whispered softly and low, so that no one else could possibly hear:

“Marquess, your true crime is that you didn’t just drop Devere into the abyss with your cheap, slick tongue—you dared to play a part in the assassination of the late King.” “Kuh…?!”

Marquess Gebel’s eyes flared open in shock. However, he had no strength left to shout. In fact, he couldn’t even make a sound in the first place. Because Zion was secretly—yet with full force—strangling his throat. Very tightly, with all his strength.

“Therefore, in the name of Prince Zion Riobelt, I sentence you!”

‘In the name of Crown Prince Zion Blize, I sentence you.’

I knew very well how to turn a person into a vegetative state. Even if I didn’t want to know, I ended up learning it anyway. I had confiscated more than a few volumes of human experimentation logs while dealing with the Empire.

“His late Majesty must be waiting for you. Hurry up and go.”

Violently trembling pupils. Breath right on the verge of snapping. The Marquess screamed out the culprit’s name with his final, dying gasp.

“Z-Zion, it’s Zionnn!!!”

CRACK!

‘Unfortunate for you, Gebel. Your final scream won’t reach anyone.’

He must have been screaming the name of Zion Blize. But the people around us will think he was calling out Zion Riobelt’s name.

‘Now Gebel will never regain consciousness. It might be possible if there were a high-ranking healing mage, but it’s impossible with magic engineering.’

It was one of the weaknesses born from choosing versatility and scalability in magic engineering. Though it was a minor issue that would be overcome in the near future as technology rapidly advanced:

‘The important thing is that right now, for Gebel, it’s a fatal problem.’

“……” “……” “……”

Looking around, everyone was standing in dead silence. Faces turned pale as sheet. Expressions filled with all sorts of emotions. And from among them, a single, expressionless face drew closer.

“9th Prince.”

A cold, inorganic voice. A familiar face. A power broker ranked among the top three in the Empire. 3rd Prince, Garion Riobelt. However, the surrounding atmosphere felt exceedingly strange. I shifted only my eyes to scan the nobles’ expressions.

‘Every single one of them… looks like they know they’re totally screwed.’

It was a vulgar expression that my master, Arist, absolutely detested for lacking dignity, but there was no better phrase to describe it.

“A subject of the Empire greets a member of the Divine Clan!” “Enough. For today, bowings are excused.” “……” “……”

An icy silence. It was like a rabbit hole when a hawk soared overhead. It meant it was quiet as a graveyard.

‘Why are they all so scared out of their wits? I knew he had a cold and ruthless temperament, but hmmm, it seems worse than the rumors.’

The 3rd Prince’s emotionless eyes stared fixedly at Zion.

“You’ve done quite a deed. How dare you, on an occasion celebrating the New Year? And going so far as to defy the orders of I, Garion Riobelt.”

He had every right to be furious, yet his expression didn’t change at all. A chilly, rigid face. It made me wonder if this guy even possessed emotions.

“Go to my office and wait there. Until I decide on your punishment.”

The 3rd Prince ordered him to wait without even asking for the reason behind the assault. It was as if he didn’t care in the slightest about the thought process behind a piece of trash’s actions.

‘Not even a chance to explain, huh. Well, I didn’t intend to anyway.’

Whatever punishment was handed down, I intended to take it gracefully. After all, I finally got my revenge for Father—what did a little punishment matter?

‘At the very least, I’ll probably get around 15 years of imprisonment or confinement, right?’

I snapped his neck while accepting the price of turning Gebel into a vegetable. Since I’m a Prince, I won’t be executed, but I’ll probably be confined for a very long time. What a shame. I only just realized there were so many things I could do with this body.

‘Can’t be helped, I suppose.’

I let out a bitter smile and moved my feet.

Inside the 3rd Prince’s office. A calm, single phrase echoed in my ears.

“Well done.” “…Pardon?”

Praise from the 3rd Prince. Zion was literally left dumbfounded. He said well done. Even though I beat up a Marquess—and one scheduled to be appointed as Governor-General, no less.

“Are you being serious?”

Instead of answering, the 3rd Prince sat at his desk and began writing something down.

“If anyone asks, tell them you were repeatedly beaten and healed here as corporal punishment.”

Even though he wasn’t actually hitting me, he wanted me to say that? I couldn’t even figure out what he was trying to align our stories for.

“Consider this a reward granted to you, so know that. Now, get lost.”

Ah. It was a reward? I was stunned for two reasons. How on earth was that a reward? And why was he giving me a reward in the first place?

‘Still, I understand one thing now. The 3rd Prince was also planning to stop Marquess Gebel’s appointment as Governor-General!’

The Imperial Princes were currently locked in a power struggle for the throne. I knew Marquess Gebel was neutral, but it seemed he had recently joined the opposing faction. If that was the case, it wasn’t weird for the 3rd Prince to hand out a reward.

‘To think the situation aligned so exquisitely like this…?’

Zion Blize found himself smirking before he even realized it. Following the habit ingrained in this body, Zion Riobelt twisted the corner of his lips into a smirk. From the looks of it, the Governor-General appointment itself seemed to have been a power struggle between the Princes, didn’t it? …In that case.

‘Could I actually extort a reward out of them after causing a mess?’