The 3rd Prince of the Fallen Kingdom Returns

3. The Legacy of the Ancestors (3)

Yuri raised the corners of his mouth.

Astonished at such a trifling thing—this was just the beginning.

He was a man who had returned after a lifetime. Using his past memories, he was confident that he could grow much faster.

In the not-so-distant future, the Empire would reveal its ambitions and invade Briol.

Yuri had no intention of witnessing such a scene.

He would crush them by any means necessary.

This life would be different.

“Hey,”

Yuri stood up from his seat.

“I’m still confused.”

Even if one could perceive the flow of mana, immediately mastering the Mana Method was no easy feat.

Therefore, he needed to experience it more physically.

Yuri raised his sword.

“Let’s do this properly.”

The dummy faced him, lifting its sword.

Though its entire body was transparent, and changes in expression were hard to discern, Yuri felt as if the dummy was smiling.

The fight resumed.

The dummy pushed aggressively, going as far as to use lethal moves that should not be employed against a mere thirteen-year-old child.

Startled, Yuri rolled on the ground to dodge the attacks, and the dummy chased, striking at the ground.

Yuri continued to roll on the ground, barely escaping the attack range.

“So this is how it’s going to be…”

As he forced his aching body to stand, Yuri smiled broadly.

He hadn’t expected his second life to be easy.

Just as he had told Jared, if he wanted to become stronger, he couldn’t remain in a safe area.

He needed to step into more dangerous and challenging territories.

Even if one was gifted with talent, or perhaps because of it, one had to shed more blood.

Humans grow stronger in proportion to the blood they shed.

“Is this all you got? Show me what you really have.”

As Yuri provoked, the dummy seemed to respond, pressing him more aggressively.

Even just defending was taxing.

But Yuri knew.

This thing adjusted its difficulty within what he could handle. Thus, to run away from this challenge would betray the expectations of his ancestor, Erich Briol.

Eyes wide open, he gripped his sword and observed the flow of mana pulsating within the dummy’s body.

As he imitated it, memories of his past life surfaced.

‘Imitate.’

When he had just become a mercenary and had nothing usable except for some decent swordplay, a senior mercenary had once said,

‘To become the best, imitate the best.’

At that time, he had felt a sense of resistance.

He thought that mere imitation would only make one a follower.

But as time passed, he learned that imitation was the simplest shortcut to stealing another’s prowess.

“Erich Briol, huh…”

The man who carved out a legacy with the sword and founded a dynasty was now, unbelievably, giving him private lessons right before his eyes.

So he needed to absorb everything.

A fire lit up in Yuri’s eyes.

He couldn’t afford to miss a single moment.

* * *

When Jared opened his eyes, he found himself standing on the training ground.

“Huh?”

He looked around.

Had going to the dungeon with the Third Prince and the Sword Mountain just been a dream?

“No way.”

Muttering, he drew his sword. The memory was too vivid for it to have been a dream.

He had just been with the Death Knight in the underground of the Sword Mountain and had been swept away by the energy emanating from the giant mana stone.

This situation itself was then a test of sorts.

“Come out.”

Something then climbed onto the training ground.

“…”.

Jared twisted his lips.

It was something that looked exactly like him.

In other words, something akin to his doppelganger stood facing him with a raised sword.

“What is your name? Are you also Jared?”

When he asked, the fake answered.

“Jared. Do not go against your destiny.”

Hearing his own voice was a strange experience.

“Destiny?”

“Didn’t you enter the Royal Guard because you wanted an easy life?”

“I did.”

“Then stay away from the Prince. The more you go against your destiny, the more misfortune will find you.”

“Destiny…”

Jared looked at the sword in his hand.

It was just like the one he usually used. He grasped and moved it a few times and found no trouble in handling it.

“So winning this fight means passing this test?”

As he assumed his sword, the fake raised its sword in response.

It was a common cliché.

When you meet a fake, you must fight and win, or you’ll die.

“Your destiny is not with the Prince.”

“Is it because he’s a fake that he knows nothing?”

Jared advanced.

The fake swung its sword.

Jared dodged lightly and counter-attacked. Blood splattered from the opponent’s body.

It was too easy.

Jared spoke in a low voice.

“I’ve realized something recently.”

More precisely, it was a thought he had since he met Yuri, the Third Prince.

“Once a sword is swung, it can’t be taken back. Dwelling on past strikes only clouds your mind.”

Although the fake resisted, Jared subdued it effortlessly.

The fake’s swordsmanship was simple, focused on self-preservation and avoiding risk.

Jared understood this was who he was before meeting the Third Prince.

Using the fake’s own words, this was the version of Jared that hadn’t gone against destiny.

“It was dull.”

Saying so, Jared suddenly closed the distance between himself and his opponent.

Their ranges overlapped.

Jared did not turn his head away from danger but swung his sword with eyes wide open.

In a short moment, dozens of sword strikes were exchanged.

The fake was chopped into dozens of pieces and fell.

Seeing his own body being sliced wasn’t a pleasant sight.

“…”

The fake’s body began to melt into blackness, and its remains rose, forming a dark shape.

Jared understood.

“The real body is elsewhere, is it?”

The fake grew larger, transforming into a massive monster twice his size.

The fake, denouncing his defiance of destiny, transformed into a black monster to block his path.

Perhaps it was a hint that, as a price for altering destiny, he had to fight such a creature.

But as mentioned earlier, a swung sword couldn’t be taken back.

Jared bared his teeth in a smile.

“Interesting.”

* * *

Time passed.

Yuri quickly absorbed the techniques Erich’s dummy demonstrated.

His body was that of a highly talented boy, while his spirit was that of a seasoned mercenary.

He absorbed it like a sponge on how to wield the Mana Method, aligning it with his swordsmanship.

The battle with the dummy was like a private tutoring session.

There were dangerous moments at times, but the dummy seemed determined to pass everything it had to Yuri without concern.

It was around the time Yuri began feeling accustomed to the Mana Method.

Suddenly, he realized that a great deal of time had passed.

“How long has it been…?”

Focused entirely on crossing swords, he hadn’t noticed the passage of time. He had neither eaten nor slept, relentlessly clashing swords without feeling any fatigue.

The fact that he was only now aware of this—did it mean the time had come?

Yuri lowered his sword and looked at the dummy.

The dummy also relaxed its stance and faced Yuri.

“…”

The wasteland began to disappear.

The sky collapsed.

Against the backdrop of the world coming to an end, the dummy waved its hand.

It was a goodbye gesture.

Yuri waved back.

“Thank you.”

You’re welcome.

It felt as if he heard such a voice.

Yuri closed his eyes and opened them again.

Already, he found himself back in the dungeon.

Blink.

Yuri realized.

Everything he had just experienced had been a brief dream within the blink of an eye.

Turning around, he saw Jared and Hernando also wearing peculiar expressions. Their appearances remained unchanged, yet a strange aura lingered around them.

The Death Knight, previously sitting atop the mana stone, rose.

[It seems you had a good dream.]

“What was that just now?”

[It was Erich’s arrangement. He believed that someday a descendant of Briol would come here.]

That was only half true.

In his past life, no one had come, and the Sword Mountain had collapsed at the hands of the Empire.

“Did the ancestor use this Mana Method?”

[No. He couldn’t use it himself. It was Erich’s final legacy, created by combining realizations he gained while wandering the East in his later years. Therefore, you are its first inheritor.]

“Why leave it like this? Couldn’t he have passed it down to the Royal Family?”

[He awaited the right moment.]

“The right moment?”

[If the dungeon has been opened, it means the time when its power is needed has come.]

The Death Knight’s eye sockets glowed red.

[What is that time?]

[It’s not something I can answer.]

“Then?”

[Discover it for yourself.]

Though Yuri probed further, the Death Knight did not answer.

[Remember, that the Mana Method contains Erich’s will. It is far more significant than you imagine.]

Yuri nodded. As the Death Knight said, Erich’s Mana Method was exceedingly unique. It was entirely different from the Briol Method inherited by the Royal Family.

“What is the name of the Mana Method?”

[Its name…]

The Death Knight paused momentarily before answering.

[He called it ‘Heart and Soul Slash’.]

Though it didn’t seem like the name of a Mana Method, Yuri accepted it.

It was both a Mana Method and swordsmanship. The two were intricately intertwined, inseparable.

[Yuri Briol.]

The Death Knight approached Yuri, his demeanor menacing.

Startled by the sudden malicious intent, Jared and Hernando stepped in to block, but they were swiftly slammed into the walls.

Yuri stood his ground before the Death Knight instead of avoiding it.

[Kneel on one knee.]

“Why?”

[To pass on the ancestor’s legacy to the descendant of Briol.]

Yuri knelt on one knee and made his obeisance. The Death Knight placed a hand on Yuri’s head.

[Yuri Briol.]

With the light of the mana stone behind, a deep shadow cast over the Death Knight’s face. The outline of a fallen knight, with blazing backlight filled his view.

[Never fear your enemies.]

In a voice frail as if crumbling, Yuri seemed to hear another’s voice overlapped with it.

He responded unknowingly.

“Yes.”

The mana stone’s light flickered.

[Do what you believe in.]

“Yes.”

[Fulfill the duty of Briol to the end.]

“Yes.”

He didn’t utter common phrases like protect the weak or perform good deeds.

[Remember this.]

Suddenly, the Death Knight grabbed Yuri by the hair and twisted it, bringing his face close to Yuri’s.

Yuri had no choice but to face the Death Knight’s face directly.

A shabby skull.

Red glowing eyes reflected within it.

The shape of death was etched into Yuri’s eyes.

The Death Knight’s voice slid down Yuri’s spine.

[Briol never abandons honor. Even if it means death.]

The light of the mana stone flickered wildly beyond his skull.

The Death Knight’s body began to disintegrate.

He neither released Yuri’s hair nor turned his gaze away.

He stared into Yuri’s eyes with his blazing red gaze as he faded away.

[This is the oath of Briol.]

His voice imprinted on Yuri’s soul.

* * *

The escapade that had begun in the early morning ended stretched on until dusk.

Yuri and his companions cautiously returned to the palace, just as when they first set out.

The courtiers merely thought the Prince had appeared after slacking off somewhere.

“Your Highness,” Hernando spoke to Yuri.

“I will report today’s events to His Majesty.”

“Do you have to?”

“Doesn’t it seem necessary?”

“Alright, I understand.”

He had no intention of insisting on secrecy.

The matter was too significant for that.

“Jared, go and rest. You did well today.”

“Yes.”

Since returning from the Sword Mountain, Jared had been visibly out of sorts. Yuri had been curious about his experience but decided to ask him the next day.

Separated from the pair, Yuri headed not to his room but to the royal library.

There, he found the records of his ancestor.

Erich Briol.

He had a brother.

However, his brother had forsaken his honor, and thus, disappeared into the annals of history without leaving a name behind.

The exact crime he committed was not written down.

At least his portrait remained.

A man with a gloomy face, carrying a sword.

“……”

Yulie pulled out the sword he had brought back from the Sword Mountain and examined it.

‘Briol never abandons honor. Even if it means death.’

A knight who could not rest in death.

The sword that held his regret.

Perhaps it was a weapon befitting a sinner like him.

“You, in the end, were forgiven for your sins.”

He had passed on Erich Briol’s legacy and passed away.

Then, when would a sinner like himself, who had destroyed the kingdom yet shamelessly lived on, receive forgiveness?

Yuri tightened his grip around the sword’s hilt.

‘This is the oath of Briol.’