**Chapter 130: The Melancholy of the Rebel Prince**
Meanwhile, at the rebel army’s main camp, the figure of Rodel Aiwood, the Third Prince and the standard-bearer of the rebellion, stood alongside the de facto commander, Marquis Aiger. Within the tent, the final military council before the clash was underway.
“Now then… Lord Rodel, the time has come for you to ascend to the throne!”
Marquis Aiger passionately addressed Rodel, who sat in a chair, his fervor palpable within the confines of the tent.
“The era of the foolish king, devoid of any talent yet born of the Queen Dowager’s blood, and the false Crown Prince, is coming to an end! Here, we shall crush our enemies and march straight to the Royal Capital!”
“…Indeed.”
Rodel responded with a dark, heavy gaze, in stark contrast to Aiger’s fervent enthusiasm.
(If we win this battle, I will become the Crown Prince. I will be the king of the Aiwood Kingdom… just as my grandmother wished…)
His hopes were within reach. His grand ambitions were on the verge of fulfillment. Yet, an inexplicable heaviness weighed upon him. Ever since surviving the Subnock Plains, this feeling had lingered.
(Gora… Tony…)
The faces of the two who had been by his side since childhood as his retainers floated to the forefront of his mind.
Gora was a man of integrity. Honest to a fault, he struggled with cunning and preferred to solve problems through sheer strength. Tony, on the other hand, was small in stature. Despite his timid nature, he would puff himself up and act bold only when Rodel and Gora were around. He was a smooth talker, skilled in flattery, and somehow, he was impossible to dislike.
Since their deaths, Rodel felt as if a massive stone had settled in his gut, casting a shadow over his spirit.
(Was I not the chosen one…? The grandson of the great Queen Dowager, a genius who received exceptional education to one day become king. A powerful sorcerer destined to unify the Aiwood Kingdom… no, the entire continent…)
Once, Rodel had been brimming with confidence in everything he did. It felt as if he had wings on his back, capable of soaring to any height. That sense of invincibility had always filled his heart. Yet, after losing his friends, who were also his retainers, he found himself stripped of that confidence.
Rodel had been arrogant because he had never known failure. He had been doted upon and pampered by the influential Queen Dowager. Even after her passing, he was shielded by supporters like Marquis Aiger. The people around him were sycophants, and no one dared to admonish him. His magical talent, rather than being a blessing, had only exacerbated the situation. Since the king and the Crown Prince possessed little magical power, any admonishments were dismissed as mere “jealousy of the weak.”
However, in the Subnock Plains, he had faced a decisive setback. In a reckless charge, he had lost the trusted retainers he relied upon. With the loss of his two unwavering supporters, Rodel was finally confronted with the reality that he had made a grave mistake.
(They say many students lost their lives due to the monstrous tide… because of me. It was my fault that I awakened the Subnock…!)
Until then, Rodel had never been the type to reflect on his surroundings. Had he triumphed over the beast, he might have laughed off the deaths as “necessary sacrifices.” But having faced defeat, yielding no results and only suffering losses, he found guilt blossoming within him for the first time in his life.
“…The enemy numbers one hundred thousand. They outnumber us. Can we truly win?”
Such a weak statement escaped his lips, a reflection of his shattered confidence.
“Fear not! While we may be outnumbered, the quality of our soldiers is what truly matters. No matter how many rabble gather, they are but a trifling matter!”
“…Is that so?”
“And… we have a formidable ally on our side!”
Marquis Aiger’s gaze shifted to a figure in the corner of the tent.
“………”
The person, cloaked in a deep black hood that obscured their face, silently nodded in Rodel’s direction. They sat cross-legged on a cloth spread on the ground, remaining silent and detached from the council.
“This individual has come as reinforcements from the Empire, the homeland of the Royal Consort. Behind you, Lord Rodel, not only stands the majesty of the Queen Dowager but also the Geisel Empire. We cannot possibly lose!”
“………”
Marquis Aiger’s eyes sparkled with a strange light as he made his declaration. What once felt reassuring now struck Rodel as oddly terrifying.
(This man does not see me. His gaze is not directed at me; it is fixed solely on my grandmother…)
Rodel realized that Marquis Aiger served not him, but the Queen Dowager. It wasn’t just Aiger; everyone within the tent—the nobles of the Queen Dowager Faction—were the same. They were all enraptured by the memory of the deceased Queen Dowager, blind to Rodel and the reality around them.
“Marquis, the soldiers are ready!”
“Ah, then… let us charge forth at once!”
Without seeking Rodel’s command, Marquis Aiger ordered the soldiers to advance. The sound of a trumpet rang out, signaling the preparations for departure. When the trumpet sounded again, all soldiers would charge toward the enemy.
“Now, let us go! All for the sake of the great Queen Dowager! We shall march to the Royal Capital to establish a paradise of righteousness in this world…”
As Aiger resumed his speech, he abruptly halted. The surroundings had darkened unexpectedly. The sun was obscured, and a dim shadow fell over the camp, as if a total eclipse were occurring.
“………?”
“What is happening?!”
“I… I don’t know… everything suddenly grew dark…”
Just as they were about to charge, it felt as though cold water had been poured over them. Confusion filled both the inside and outside of the tent, and it was no longer a moment to command the soldiers to advance.
“This is bad…!”
Amidst the turmoil, the figure in the black robe suddenly stood up. In a panic, they lifted the tent flap to step outside, only to be met with a blinding light rushing in from beyond.
“Ah…”
There was no time to scream. The magical light unleashed by the kingdom’s forces engulfed Rodel and the soldiers gathered at the front of the main camp.