The Indomitable Martial King

Count Hendrik, who had been driven from his territory for siding with Prince Yubel, controlled most of the granary region in the Redant plains. Having regained his land, Count Hendrik wept with joy, but the residents trembled with fear at the sight of the numerous soldiers approaching. With public sentiment already at its lowest due to a severe famine, the fear of harsh exploitation loomed large.

However, Prince Yubel’s army, which had ample grain supplies, did not resort to plunder. Instead, they distributed grain to the starving residents, stabilizing the public sentiment. This wasn’t because the nobles on Yubel’s side were particularly concerned with the welfare of the residents, but rather, many being former merchants, they acted with a calculated pragmatism. With sufficient military provisions, it was more advantageous to win over the populace by generosity.

As a result, celebrations were held throughout Hendrik’s territory in honor of Prince Yubel’s victory. Both soldiers and residents praised Yubel’s name loudly as they ate and drank.

“Long live Prince Yubel!”

“Our true king!”

Watching the scene from the balcony of Count Hendrik’s castle, Yubel smirked.

“These people who were cheering for Carsus just yesterday change their attitudes so easily, Grandfather.”

Frankly speaking, comparing the popularity of Carsus and Yubel was almost insulting to Yubel, as Carsus had overwhelmingly more support. That it had shifted so dramatically was astonishing…

Count Feonin, standing beside him, spoke with a satisfied expression.

“A true king illuminates the path even in the darkest of times. The brilliance of Your Highness as the rightful king has opened the eyes of those blinded by delusion. How could they not chant Your Highness’s name?”

His words flowed smoothly, as if his mouth were greased. Yubel sneered.

“Am I a bonfire? What brilliance…”

To the common folk, the best king is simply the one who can feed them on time. Despite having a reputation as a libertine due to his love affair with Finia, Yubel was far from being a foolish prince. He possessed enough cold-bloodedness not to be deluded by the cheers in front of him.

Count Feonin smiled at Yubel’s sarcasm.

“Both Your Highness and I know the truth, but speaking this way is the noble manner.”

“That’s true enough.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Yubel left the balcony and returned to the drawing-room. Count Feonin followed him, continuing the conversation.

“The Prince of Carsus appears to be preparing for a defensive battle, holed up in the capital, Krotin. Moreover, Count Wet and Baron Terzen have arrived to pledge their loyalty to Your Highness, so you must grant them an audience soon.”

Count Wet and Baron Terzen were nobles who had maintained neutrality in this succession war. They had refrained from participating in the civil war, relying on their kinship with Sir Hatsbergen, an Aura User.

Yubel, fully understanding the situation, clicked his tongue.

“They’re all like raccoons.”

Currently, numerous neutral nobles were flocking to pledge allegiance to Yubel’s side. They had been merely observing the battle’s progress, but now that the tide had clearly turned in favor of Prince Yubel’s forces, they rushed in to secure some benefits.

“It’s just the noble way,” Count Feonin responded as if it were obvious.

The reason these neutral nobles, who had stayed silent while Carsus was overwhelmingly dominant, were now aligning with Yubel was simple.

From the perspective of the neutral nobles, siding with the victorious Carsus offered little advantage. The nobles in Prince Yubel’s camp were mostly merchants, who possessed substantial wealth, but it was merchant wealth—dynamic assets like trading partnerships with other countries, trading systems, and commercial rights that were valuable only to those who could utilize them effectively. Their territories were not particularly impressive.

With the powerful Fernando ducal family and the Marquess of Brozen on Carsus’s side, even if the neutral nobles performed notable deeds, they would not receive significant political rewards. And the lands available for distribution if Yubel’s forces were defeated were quite limited. Most would be allocated to the vassals of those two great noble families, leaving little for the neutral nobles. Therefore, it was better to declare neutrality and preserve the strength of their houses.

On the other hand, supporting Yubel offered a different prospect. The Fernando ducal family and the Marquess of Brozen were the most formidable traditional powers in the kingdom, commanding vast territories and influence. The lands of their vassals were also extensive. The greatest asset, after all, was real estate! If Yubel emerged victorious, they could expect to be granted substantial tracts of land.

“However, Aura Users like Sir Hatsbergen, Sir Grandiad, and Sir Zecklik continue to declare neutrality, Your Highness.”

Count Feonin mentioned the names of three Aura Users from the Kingdom of Crovence who had not participated in the civil war, his expression tinged with regret. Suddenly, he looked at Yubel and suggested,

“What about summoning them in the name of the king? They did not respond before, but now…”

Yubel cut off his grandfather firmly, questioning,

“Why should we be concerned?” Yubel retorted.

Count Feonin’s mustache twitched as he realized something.

“Th-that’s true,” he stammered.

There was a time when they had fervently hoped for even one of those Aura Users to join their cause. Count Feonin himself, being Yubel’s maternal relative, had personally sought them out. Of course, he had returned without even meeting them. Such was the desperation for the presence of an Aura User at the time.

But now, the situation had changed. Aura Users abounded on their side. Just seeing them was enough to make one feel secure. There was no need to extend a hand to those who had previously acted high and mighty.

“However, there is a possibility that Carsus might reach out to them.”

“It’ll be fine. All three of them are not the type to declare neutrality just for practical gains.”

When the civil war broke out, Sir Hatsbergen and the other two Aura Users had secluded themselves under the pretext of illness. The notion of an Aura User falling ill was a joke. Naturally, it was understood that they had declared neutrality. However, Yubel, having met them at the royal palace, knew their characters well.

“Unlike other nobles who declared neutrality for practical reasons, those gentlemen genuinely could not bring themselves to draw their swords for either side. As knights sworn to loyalty to both the king and the state, choosing me would mean betraying the state, while choosing Carsus would mean betraying the king.”

Given their principles, it was unlikely they would now choose Carsus. If they were of a mind to do so, they would have already sided with either Yubel or Carsus.

Count Feonin, reacting to Yubel’s calm explanation, jumped up.

“That’s their greatest folly! How can choosing Prince Yubel be considered a betrayal of the state!”

He acknowledged Carsus’s abilities, but Count Feonin was equally convinced of his grandson’s potential as a king. Wasn’t Yubel displaying a level-headedness and composure that wasn’t swayed by worldly rumors? At such a young age, there were few who could view reality with such calm acceptance, even when discussing matters about themselves.

“If only he didn’t have that quirk…” Count Feonin muttered with a dissatisfied expression. He was thinking of the Dwarf maiden who was likely still guarding Yubel from somewhere inside the drawing-room.

‘If only that lowly creature wasn’t around, those rumors wouldn’t have spread, and he would have been rightfully evaluated from the beginning!’

Watching his grandfather’s wrinkled face filled with discontent, Yubel scratched his cheek.

‘Honestly, it’s because of Finia that I’ve managed to come this far…’

Since childhood, Yubel had grown up as a prince. With Telion as the clear heir to the throne, his position as the second prince afforded him fewer duties but more power. There was every possibility that he could become a foolish prince, believing that everything in the world existed for him and that all the flattery directed at him was sincere.

It was Finia who prevented this. She was a dwarf who could hear the voice of truth and thus could discern the sincerity and deceit of Yubel’s subjects. The fact that dwarves could hear the voice of truth was a long-forgotten tale among humans. Unaware of this, people would openly flatter with deceit before Finia. Each time, she distinguished truth from lies, identifying loyal subjects and sycophants. Without her, Yubel would not have been able to see reality so clearly.

“Well, I don’t think I’m that incompetent either…”

Yubel murmured, trailing off, and laughed inwardly.

‘Still, Carsus was better, wasn’t he?’

Thanks to Finia, Yubel had grown this far as a prince with power. But Carsus, without such aid, had distinguished between flatterers and loyalists, becoming a knight of remarkable prowess through diligent training, and had excelled in both strategy and administration through relentless effort.

‘So, I actually thought Carsus would be a better fit for the throne…’

However, Yubel knew that someone as suited for the throne as Carsus would never allow him to live if he became king.

It wasn’t just due to a lust for power. Since Carsus himself had a blemish in his royal lineage, Yubel’s very existence could continue to taint the kingdom. As a cousin who shared his blood, Carsus, though saddened, would be ruthless in beheading Prince Yubel for the future and peace of the kingdom.

No, he would surely do it. He had the true qualities of a king who sincerely cared for and loved his people!

‘What choice do I have? Given this fate, the only way to avoid death is to become king.’

If Carsus was genuinely aiming for the throne out of concern for the future of the Crovence Kingdom, Yubel had to become king merely to save his own life. It was a truly regrettable situation for the kingdom’s people.

Looking out the window, Yubel muttered with a resolute expression.

“I must become king. A king who truly cares for the people.”

That would be the least repayment he could offer this country.

* * *

**Hendrik’s Ducal Estate, backyard.**

In the deserted, leisurely clearing, a young boy was doing push-ups.

“Thirty-twwooo…! Thirty-thhreee…!”

The boy with red hair, putting on a determined expression as if he were facing an army of a million men, was none other than Sillan, who had recently gained fame as the “Young Saint” among Prince Yubel’s army due to the latest battle.

Despite being in his mid-teens and looking more like a girl than a boy, he faced spears and swords without fear and performed healing magic without batting an eye at even the most gruesome wounds, leaving a deep impression on both enemies and allies.

Moreover, his divine power was on a different level from other clergy. Thanks to Sillan, the number of soldiers and knights who had returned from the brink of death was enormous. Everyone revered Sillan as their savior, loudly praising him and the goddess Philanence.

Of course, Sillan, indifferent to all the chatter, was focused solely on building his muscles under the diligent guidance of his personal trainer, Repenhardt.

“Thirty-foouuur…! Thirty-fi…fii…”

Sillan finally failed on his 35th push-up, collapsing to the ground. Repenhardt, who had been watching from the side, shook his head and extended his hand.

“Alright, that’s enough for now. Relax your muscles, rest a bit, then we’ll move on to squats.”

A golden aura flowed from Repenhardt’s extended hand, enveloping Sillan’s entire body. It was a unique technique of Gym Unbreakable, designed to relax all muscles and recover fatigue. Feeling somewhat better, Sillan staggered to his feet and spread his legs to assume a stance.

“Alright, squats it is.”

Squats, a method to strengthen the lower body muscles, basically involved sitting down and standing up repeatedly. Even while trembling, Sillan’s determination to move on to the next exercise showed a resolve comparable to that of a top-tier warrior. Repenhardt quickly stopped him.

“Hey, I said rest first, didn’t I? I’ve told you over and over that overworking is a no-go.”

“Oh, right. Got it.”

Despite his whole body screaming in muscle pain, Sillan kept clicking his tongue as if disappointed. At this point, it seemed like he was moving his body purely through willpower. It was almost pitiful to think about how he ended up in such a body.