Crown Prince Sells Medicine

“Your Highness, the Emperor has summoned you.”

In the early hours of the morning, a surprising message made its way to Raciel. Just as he was preparing to begin his day and engage in his habitual self-analysis, Gardin delivered the news to him.

“Huh? Why?”

“Well, that is…”

Gardin hesitated before continuing.

“It seems that word of Your Highness’s escapades has reached His Majesty’s ears.”

“My escapades?”

If it was about his escapades, could it be?

“Yes, it’s probably what you’re thinking.”

“…You didn’t tell him about my actions, did you?”

“No, I did not.”

Gardin hurriedly shook his head.

“There are many eyes and ears in the palace, so it is likely that someone spoke about Your Highness’s escapades… no, the act of piercing your own body with needles or brewing your own medicine and taking it, which eventually reached the palace.”

“Damn.”

Raciel clicked his tongue.

Escapades, indeed.

‘But… there must be more to it than just that.’

A sensation stirred within him.

An inkling lingered.

It transcended a mere request to meet and discuss his peculiar recent actions. It carried a weight that surpassed mere curiosity, for a mere invitation to the palace would not suffice.

‘I’ll find out when I go.’

A sudden recollection flooded Raciel’s mind, reminding him of the initial plot and setting of the novel “Devil Sword Emperor.” Simultaneously, the image of the emperor’s character at the story’s outset resurfaced in his memory.

‘The emperor was a strict man, like a lion. Both to himself and those around him.’

Naturally, his own son was not exempt from such scrutiny. The emperor had a habit of subjecting his sons, particularly the eldest and heir, the crown prince, to continuous trials.

The purpose was to determine if he was truly deserving of ascending to the throne.

Was he genuinely capable of fulfilling that role?

The emperor tirelessly scrutinized, assessed, and appraised his son. He resembled a lion that nudges its cubs off a precipice to gauge their resilience.

However, what fate awaited the original novel’s Crown Prince Raciel?

‘He completely failed to meet those expectations.’

Despite being a crown prince, his physical and mental constitution remained feeble. His fragility was so pronounced that he resorted to arrogance as a façade to conceal his vulnerability.

‘There was a mention of the emperor being disappointed in his weakness. And it was about two months before the crown prince’s death when the emperor summoned him for the last time. That must have been around this time.’

In the novel, Crown Prince Raciel proved incapable of answering the final summons. His state had deteriorated beyond repair, rendering him immobile and confined to his bed.

Despite being practically carried to the carriage, his journey to the palace was cut short. Before reaching halfway, he succumbed to the severity of his condition, vomiting blood and ultimately being transported back to his residence.

‘As a result, Raciel was… stripped of all his powers as the crown prince.’

The turning point occurred on that fateful day.

The emperor relinquished any hope in Raciel, bestowing the crown prince title upon another son who had successfully ascended the precipice.

This outcome stemmed from a detached process of meticulous examination, judgment, and evaluation.

But now…

‘The situation has changed. Quite a bit.’

He wasn’t bedridden like in the novel. He could easily visit the palace.

Raciel stood up.

“Then I should go. Prepare the carriage.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The subsequent proceedings unfolded seamlessly.

Accompanied by his entourage, Raciel embarked on a regal journey aboard a Rolls-Royce-class royal carriage. After approximately an hour of travel, they reached their destination—the grand palace. They traversed through expansive gardens, climbed numerous staircases, navigated corridors, and explored various corners. Eventually, Raciel found himself standing in the presence of the emperor, ‘Asterion Testarossa Magentano.’

“Crown Prince Raciel Adria Magentano pays his respects to His Majesty, the rightful ruler of this land.”

As he attempted to recall the lines from the novel, Raciel instinctively performed a graceful bow.

Was it his demeanor that captured attention?

Within the gaze of the emperor, who had habitually held a disdainful view of his feeble and delicate eldest son, a faint spark of intrigue flickered.

‘… Asrahan Core Technique?’

Unbeknownst to himself, Emperor Asterion muttered quietly.

He couldn’t suppress it.

The Asrahan Core Technique.

A clandestine art solely bestowed upon the direct lineage of the royal household.

When the crown prince was but an infant, the emperor had personally embedded the technique within his tiny heart. Yet, owing to his inherent fragility, the crown prince had never been able to harness the power of this technique.

‘But why did I just feel the resonance of the technique?’

Those who wielded the Asrahan Core Technique possessed the ability to perceive the resonance of other’s techniques. The emperor himself was a proficient practitioner, having attained a mastery level represented by a double circle. Without a doubt, the resonance he had just sensed emanating from his eldest son corresponded unmistakably to the Asrahan Core Technique.

‘Could it be?’

As Emperor Asterion fixed his gaze upon Crown Prince Raciel, his scrutiny intensified. He meticulously observed his son’s pallid countenance, making a concerted effort to detect any trace of resonance within him once again.

Regrettably, despite his earnest attempts, the emperor failed to perceive any encouraging indications from his feeble eldest son.

‘… Was it an illusion?’

A glimmer of disappointment danced in the emperor’s eyes. The resonance he believed he had momentarily sensed had now dissipated completely. The pitiable state of the crown prince remained unchanged.

With an emaciated frame that appeared exceedingly fragile, the crown prince seemed as if a single touch could cause him to crumble. His gait and gestures bore no semblance of strength. His complexion, beyond being pale, held an eerie pallor, and even the color of his lips conveyed a wretched hue.

In essence, the crown prince resembled an archetypal patient, and not merely any patient, but one teetering on the precipice of critical illness, with little hope for recovery.

‘Tsk tsk.’

Momentarily perplexed, the emperor’s thoughts swirled in a haze of uncertainty. The faint glimmer of hope he had clung to had seemingly clouded his judgment, leading to this confusion.

Regret and disappointment mingled within him, prompting a disapproving click of his tongue. Realistically, given the crown prince’s feeble and ailing physique, it was impossible for him to awaken the formidable Asrahan Core Technique. Such a mastery was not to be trifled with, and the crown prince’s frailty rendered him ill-equipped to wield its power.

‘Why did it have to be him?’

A heavy sigh escaped the emperor’s lips.

Out of all his children, it was his eldest son who found himself in such a woeful state. He had once chosen him to be the rightful successor, tasked with leading the empire, but now he struggled to even manage his own frail body, let alone govern a realm.

Countless attempts at healing spells proved futile. The blessings and protection of the clergy held no discernible effect. Numerous doctors who had been assigned to him had relinquished hope and departed.

The message was clear.

There was no remedy.

No solution could be found.

The crown prince’s lifespan seemed tenuous at best. This reality was reflected in the departure of countless doctors, fleeing like rats from a sinking ship.

‘Do you have no future?’

Contemplating the past, the question arose: Had he erred in initially selecting the second child as the rightful successor?

A steely resolve settled in the emperor’s gaze as he scrutinized the crown prince. He posed the inquiry, not as a father would, but as an emperor would, and not directed towards a son, but towards the crown prince himself.

“Did you have a tolerable time at the Star Palace?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The emperor’s eyes hardened even more, displeased with the answer.

“I heard it was a bit different, though.”

As the crown prince continued to bow his head, the emperor addressed him in a voice that carried both gentleness and firmness. His words were aimed at the crown prince’s lowered countenance.

“I heard you’ve been behaving strangely at the Star Palace lately?”

“…”

“Why don’t you answer?”

“That’s because…”

“I heard you were harming yourself.”

“…”

Did a sense of embarrassment overcome him?

The emperor’s stare grew not only austere but also suffocating as he observed the crown prince’s silent demeanor.

“You’ve pierced needles into your own body and even drank poison. It’s truly pathetic and disgraceful. Can you still call yourself a descendant of the royal family?”

“…”

“I heard you’ve been harsh on those below you. It must have been because you were struggling, because you were weak. But now, you’re even turning that weakness against yourself. Why did you show such behavior, unable to withstand the mere physical hardships and letting your spirit crumble as well?”

It proved to be displeasing.

His heir, who had never displayed a dependable countenance since childhood. His foolish conviction that the heir’s weakness would somehow improve over time. And further foolishness, the inability to release that delusion until this very moment.

Resentment and regret intertwined within him, with no outlet for release.

These emotions infused his voice, rendering it cold and cutting.

“You must not be like that. You are the proud bloodline of the royal family, and a member of the royal family. Therefore, at any moment, even if your body and mind are collapsing.”

Regardless of how rotten and decayed it may be within.

At the very least, on the surface.

“You must not lose your dignity and grace.”

So, even until the moment you die.

“Do not make a scene, at least. Do you understand?”

“…”

Crown Prince Raciel remained silent.

No, he did not offer a response.

Rather than answering, he inwardly expressed his disapproval with a quiet click of his tongue.

‘Huh. Look at what that old man is saying.’

The words spoken seemed somewhat absurd to comprehend.

With an air of great dignity, he expounded on the importance of the royal family’s honor.

Yet, upon closer reflection, the true meaning of his words became questionable.

‘It’s just telling me not to tarnish the family image and to live quietly until I die.’

Is it truly appropriate for a father to utter such words to his son? If the original Raciel had heard that?

‘He would have been extremely hurt.’

If he had heard those very words emanating from the mouth of his father, who was none other than the emperor, then indeed, it would have been so. However, that was not the case for him.

‘At least it’s not my father.’

The emperor was technically Raciel’s father, not his, to him he was almost like a stranger—an old man he had encountered for the first time that day.

Perhaps it was due to this disconnect that Raciel remained unaffected by the emperor’s harsh words. Despite the pouring torrent of harshness, Raciel’s mindset remained unblemished.

“Also, if your health becomes a problem and you cannot bear the weight of the throne, shouldn’t you make a wise decision?”

‘A wise decision?’

Raciel slightly furrowed his brows.

‘That’s harsh. Everything he had said so far was just a formality, and it was to bring up the topic from now on that he called me.’

Somehow, he had a feeling.

Ultimately, his intuition proved to be precisely accurate.

“I will not beat around the bush. If you cannot bear the weight of the throne, isn’t it also a virtue to yield it to someone more suitable?”

“…Yes?”

“I mean, give the Crown Prince title to your younger brother, the Second Prince.”

The Emperor’s one-sided words continued.

“Think about it. It would be a decision that benefits both you and everyone else. Moreover, this is my consideration.”

“…”

Consideration.

If he were to decline, would it result in the Crown Prince title being stripped from him by imperial decree and bestowed upon the Second Prince? Such a scenario appeared increasingly probable. The emperor’s previously unwavering gaze, fixed sternly upon him, softened ever so slightly.

“What do you think?”

“…”

Raciel sealed his lips.

The proposition—or rather, the pressure—had come abruptly. Yet, he remained unruffled. The key to maintaining composure lay in a twofold approach. Firstly, his background as a traditional Korean medicine doctor played a significant role.

‘There were often elderly patients who threw out unexpected words.’

In this vast world, there existed all kinds of individuals.

They would inquire about his love life, probing when he intended to marry.

Such intrusive questions were commonplace, particularly among the elderly who frequented the traditional Korean medicine clinic. Some, in their moments of cognitive lapses, would treat him as their own son. Others perceived him as a long-lost lover. Raciel even encountered individuals in their nineties who called him “Dad.” He had even assisted in changing the adult diapers of those who didn’t actually require such aid.

Having encountered these situations countless times, he had developed an automatic mental fortitude. Perhaps this resilience was shared among all self-employed individuals in South Korea, who grappled with the diverse array of people they encountered.

The current circumstance was no exception.

‘Well, it’s a bit surprising, but it’s not enough to break my judgment.’

Raciel lifted his gaze, meeting the unwavering stare of the emperor.

Despite the emperor’s continued stern expression, there was an unmistakable discernibility to the underlying intention behind that penetrating gaze. This newfound clarity served as the second reason why Raciel remained composed, unaffected by the situation at hand.

‘If I were just Crown Prince Raciel, I would have been flustered. I would have been shocked by an unexpected situation and stumbled. But I’m not. I know your intention because I’ve read the novel. This kind of situation was not in the novel “Devil Sword Emperor,” so I know it even better.’

The situation had deviated from the narrative of the novel.

The emperor’s intention had been unveiled.

What lay ahead?

All became lucid, unveiled, and comprehensible.

In that moment, a smile of unwavering assurance formed at the corner of Raciel’s lips. And then, he uttered a single sentence that caused the emperor to recoil in surprise.