The Wastrel Prince Becomes Ruthless-Chapter 12

Chapter 12
After the coming-of-age ceremony, Yuwon locked himself up in his bedroom all day, as if all his business had come to an end once he met Terrien.
The Fifth Prince, who used to rise before dawn every day to swing his sword and sweat through his training, was now holed up in his room right after the ceremony. A few attendants whispered, “So it’s true, after all,” but their voices never reached Yuwon’s ears.
Of course, Yuwon wasn’t spending his time idly.
He only made it look that way.
Two days had passed since he began his period of recalibration.
‘By now, I should be getting some sort of response, shouldn’t I…?’
Knock, knock, knock—
As if on cue, the sound of knocking echoed through the bedroom.
“Your Highness, a guest has arrived. The one who once served briefly as your sword instructor…”
It was the guest Yuwon had been waiting for.
“I’ll prepare myself and go. Escort the guest to the drawing room.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Then I shall…”
‘So he’s come. Seems he’s made up his mind about something.’
Soon after dressing, Yuwon left for the drawing room to receive his visitor.
“Huh?”
However, the guest was not the one Yuwon had been expecting.
“Your Highness. It has been some time.”
The man had neatly trimmed brown hair, a fine beard, and broad shoulders that perfectly fit the image of a knight.
‘The father of Terrien, the Empire’s greatest sword—Marquis Bradman.’
It was because of this very title that Terrien, a son born out of wedlock, had gained the nickname The Bastard’s Blade.
Despite the unexpected guest, Yuwon smiled calmly and welcomed him.
“I thought Calmodet might come, but it seems a far more distinguished guest has arrived. It’s been a while, Marquis Bradman.”
“My apologies for dropping by unannounced, Your Highness.”
“Not at all. I was actually thinking that I might have a private audience with you sooner or later. Please, have a seat.”
“Yes, then excuse my impoliteness.”
Yuwon took the upper seat and gestured for the marquis to sit opposite him.
The two faced each other across a small table.
Thanks to Yuwon’s earlier orders, not even a single attendant was present in the room.
Only the refreshments that had been prepared beforehand remained between them.
“A guest of your stature wouldn’t come all this way just to inquire about my health…”
Yuwon trailed off as he raised his teacup to wet his lips.
The marquis, understanding his meaning, went straight to the point.
“I heard that Your Highness has ended your teacher-student relationship with Terrien.”
“That’s right.”
“That being the case, I came to ask… Although I may have been inadequate when I first instructed Your Highness in swordsmanship, things might be different now. Might you consider allowing me to teach you again?”
It was something from over ten years ago—back when Yurion first took up the sword.
‘Back then, Marquis Bradman, already hailed as the Empire’s Greatest Sword, had personally taken the role of Yurion’s sword master. Of course, it didn’t end well.’
But the question rubbed Yuwon the wrong way. It wasn’t the one he had been waiting to hear.
“Marquis, is that why you came to see me?”
“Yes, Your Highness. Is there… a problem with that?”
He looked genuinely puzzled, as if he didn’t understand what was wrong.
“Just a few days ago, I had quite a deep conversation with a member of your family—Calmodet. Has anything happened since then?”
“Ah, so that’s why that boy… did something he normally wouldn’t.”
At Yuwon’s words, the marquis nodded, as though the pieces were finally coming together.
“So, something did happen.”
“Yes. The lad even called me ‘Father’—which he’s never done before—and begged me to teach him the sword.”
Yuwon lifted his cup again, feeling a strange dryness in his throat, though it wasn’t his matter to begin with.
“And what was your answer?”
“What could I possibly teach an illegitimate son? Still, he’s naturally talented, so I was thinking of placing him in a knight order and letting him grow there.”
Each word from the marquis was like a dagger piercing Yuwon’s chest.
‘Ah… Terrien must be deeply wounded by this.’
Terrien must have gathered great courage before asking his father to teach him swordsmanship.
Yet judging by the marquis’s tone now, it was clear he hadn’t given Terrien what he sought.
‘I thought the reforging would require tempering… but to think the hammer would fall from his father’s hand.’
Yuwon hadn’t foreseen that. It was his miscalculation.
“Your Highness? Are you feeling unwell?”
Seeing Yuwon’s discomfort, the marquis spoke in a more cautious tone.
“How could you… What were you thinking…”
Though he might have been the Emperor’s old friend and the Empire’s finest swordsman, the marquis was not a good father.
‘No… perhaps it’s because Terrien is a bastard.’
A bitter taste filled Yuwon’s mouth. The tea he was drinking was sweet.
‘Whether in this world or the last, bastards are treated the same.’
If Terrien saw in Yuwon his own younger self, tirelessly devoted to the sword, then Yuwon too saw his reflection in Terrien—
A boy who, despite everything, called the man he could not call father by that very word, begging to be taught the sword.
‘No doubt it took extraordinary resolve to say those words…’
Yuwon, who seemed to faintly understand that struggle, no longer wished to look at the marquis’s face. He raised his hand, signaling to end the meeting.
“I’m tired. As for what we discussed earlier about sword instruction—I’ll pretend I never heard it. I must have taken too much of the time of a man who cannot be away from His Majesty’s side for long. You may take your leave now.”
It was a clear order of dismissal.
No—rather, it was a blunt expulsion, wholly uncharacteristic of Yuwon, who was never discourteous even to lowly attendants.
“Your Highness…? Did I perhaps say something wrong? Please, I beg you to reconsider once more.”
Even then, Marquis Bradman’s only thought was to take Yuwon as his disciple.
At that moment, a knock came from the door of the drawing room.
Knock, knock, knock—
“There’s still a guest here. What is it?”
At Yuwon’s question, the door cracked open, and Marcellus peeked in.
“My apologies for interrupting, Your Highness. But… another guest has come to see you.”
There were not many people who would personally seek Yuwon out.
“…Is it Calmodet?”
“Yes, Your Highness. That’s correct.”
Finally, the one Yuwon had been waiting for had arrived.
“Show him in. The marquis will be leaving now.”
“Eh, Your Highness? But I haven’t yet…”
Marquis Bradman, the Empire’s Greatest Sword and the commander of the Imperial Knights, was not someone accustomed to being treated this way.
With a dazed expression of disbelief, the marquis met Yuwon’s gaze, and Yuwon smiled faintly in response.
“Isn’t that right, Marquis?”
“I came to pay my respects before I leave—since I wasn’t sure when I’d next have the chance to see you.”
“So you’re joining a knight order.”
“Yes. Marquis Bradman recommended one, but I chose another.”
Hearing the name Marquis Bradman come so calmly from Terrien’s lips eased Yuwon’s worries.
“So, you plan to start from the very bottom. That won’t be easy…”
“I wanted to achieve something on my own this time—without relying on the prestige of the Bradman family that’s helped me, whether I wanted it or not.”
“A fine resolve. I’ll be cheering for you.”
“Thank you. It’s all thanks to you, Your Highness. If not for you, I would still be…”
“Don’t say things like that. Today’s a day to celebrate your new beginning. Ah, since we won’t see each other for a while, shall we have a spar?”
Yuwon offered a duel.
“I must decline today, Your Highness.”
“Why so?”
“Because, no matter how many times we spar—ten, a hundred times—I still wouldn’t be a match for you.”
“Then you could learn during those ten or hundred duels, couldn’t you?”
“I’m still too dull and weak to learn anything from sparring with you, Your Highness. Instead…”
“Instead?”
“When I return—then, please face me with all your strength. That’s the kind of duel I want.”
“That’s something I’d like to ask of you myself. Very well. Let’s do that. I’ll look forward to the day we meet again.”
Between the two men, not a single cup of liquor was shared. They had already grown close enough to speak earnestly without such things.
As the sun set, their short farewell, lasting barely half an hour, came to an end.
That evening, after sending Terrien off, Yuwon dined quietly in the prince’s chambers.
In truth, the meal was more an excuse to sit in silence and gather his thoughts.
‘I successfully completed the coming-of-age ceremony, so the first goal is achieved. They’re cautious types—so for a while, the enemies will likely lower their heads and watch the situation…’
The once-a-year ceremony had passed safely, and matters with Terrien were, for now, settled.
Having regained his internal strength, Yuwon now intended to clearly distinguish friend from foe.
‘Eventually, when they grow restless, they’ll act again. When they crawl out of hiding, I’ll strike—from tail to head, all at once.’
To wipe them out completely, the first priority was to root out the spies within the Fifth Prince’s Palace.
Someone must have poisoned Yurion’s meal, after all.
‘The problem is, I have no way of knowing which of the palace servants are enemy spies…’
The nameless female attendant Yuwon had met the day he awoke in Yurion’s body, Chief Attendant Marcellus, and the timid young maid Erilyn—any of them could be the enemy.
‘Or perhaps all three.’
And beyond them, countless other attendants worked behind the scenes in the Fifth Prince’s Palace. Who knew how many of them were infiltrators?
‘In the worst case, most of them might be agents of the Second, Third, or Fourth Princes. The Fifth Prince’s Palace has always seen the most turnover among attendants. It’s no surprise.’
The thought drew a faint, self-deprecating smile across Yuwon’s face.
A miraculous new life—he had wanted to live it proudly, yet nothing came easily.
‘How is it that even in this life, there isn’t a single person I can trust…? No—there is one.’
Yuwon’s gaze turned toward the window.
Reflected in the glass, lit by the glow of a magical lamp, was a white-haired man with foreign features. Yurion.
If there was one person Yuwon could trust, it was the scoundrel who had left him only a body and a memory.
‘No power, no foundation, and as a bonus, a wretched reputation. Still, as the price for a new life, I suppose it was a cheap trade.’
A capable ally he didn’t know was less useful than an incompetent one he did. In that sense, Yurion—who had left him this body and these memories—was the latter.
Encouraged by the thought that he at least had one he could trust, Yuwon reflected quietly: since his rebirth, everything had been proceeding according to plan.
‘Yes, I’m doing well enough.’
Though there had been unexpected troubles—a poisoned meal, the Emperor’s fury, the coming-of-age ceremony with less than ten days’ notice—Yuwon’s path had remained unshaken.
‘With all eyes on me after the commotion I stirred, the enemies won’t act rashly for now. While they lie low, I’ll reclaim my power from the past life and distinguish allies from enemies. If time allows, I should also prepare some poison for self-defense…’
Yuwon’s thoughts halted abruptly. A chill of murderous intent crept down his spine.
‘Killing intent!’
He ducked instantly—almost at the very moment he sensed it.
Crash—!
A blue-tinted throwing blade shattered the window Yuwon had been staring through just moments ago.
It had aimed directly for his skull.
An attack—completely unexpected.