The 3rd Prince of the Fallen Kingdom Returns

4. Confession (1)

As soon as dawn broke, Yuri was summoned by his father.

His father sat on the throne, his hand touching his forehead, deep in thought.

“Yuri.”

“Yes.”

“I heard you left the palace on your own accord?”

“I’m sorry.”

“But did you find our ancestors’ dungeon on the Sword Mountain?”

“That’s how it happened. What I saw there was…”

“A Death Knight?”

“Uh?”

“Hernando told me everything.”

“That guy…”

No matter what, had he confessed everything so quickly?

Reflecting on it, Hernando hadn’t shared what he had seen in his vision.

I’ll question him later.

With such thoughts, Yuri opened his mouth.

“Yes. Not only that, but I also mastered the Mana Method.”

Yuri explained the Heart and Soul Slash he had acquired. Fiore expressed interest in the unity of the Mana Method and swordsmanship.

“A fortuitous encounter it seems. Although it’s a nation founded by our ancestor, surprisingly, there aren’t many records left about him.”

“Is there any way to find out more?”

“Perhaps if we search the royal library, we might find something.”

“Understood.”

“Did you also get a sword from there?”

“Yes.”

“Do you plan to use it?”

“I plan to.”

“It might be too much for you.”

“I’ll grow into it eventually.”

“Very well…”

Fiore rose from his seat.

“Yuri, my son.”

“Yes.”

“I told you not to cause any trouble, didn’t I?”

“Yes, yes…”

As Fiore approached, Yuri felt a pressure weigh down on his shoulders.

What other father would exude such a daunting presence towards his thirteen-year-old son?

Yuri stepped back but was caught by Fiore at the shoulders.

“Listen to me, will you?”

“Of course.”

“Explain everything.”

“You’ve just heard it all, haven’t you?”

“Not that.”

He lightly tapped Yuri’s head with his palm.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Though it seemed like a gentle touch from a doting father, Yuri broke out in a cold sweat.

Why did he have to mix in such intimidation?

It felt like that hand might squeeze his neck at any moment.

“Ah, Father.”

“Yes.”

“I will confess everything.”

“Confession is good.”

Yuri steeled his mind.

In any case, he needed to say it once.

To crush the Empire’s ambition, mere caution wouldn’t suffice. They had to do their utmost without a moment’s rest.

Therefore, his path would be fraught with challenges.

It was necessary to explain in advance.

“I had a dream…”

“Was it a scary dream?”

“No.”

“Was it a sad dream?”

“No.”

“Then why do you look so serious?”

“Well…”

Yuri took a step back, freeing himself from Fiore’s grasp.

“Because you clench your fist when you speak, Father.”

“Ah, did I now?”

Fiore opened his palm. Even though he opened it, Yuri was still worried about getting a slap.

“Go on.”

“The truth is, it was indeed a frightening dream. It was a nightmare where the capital of Briol was burning and the people were massacred.”

Fiore’s nodding came to a halt.

“It felt so real that even after waking up, I couldn’t collect myself. In that dream, I…”

It was half the truth.

After all, how could he know if his past life was a dream or a reality?

Perhaps this current time was the actual dream.

Could someone be burying him while saying, ‘Look, he’s smiling?’ ‘Ignore him, he must be having a good dream.’

From that belief, Yuri spoke earnestly.

“I committed great sins, and even though I tried to reverse them, I ended up witnessing the kingdom’s downfall. Living disgracefully without honor, only to meet a tragic end—that was the dream.”

“Is that why you’ve changed lately? Because of that dream?”

“Yes.”

“You think what happened in the dream might come true?”

“Not exactly, but…”

Yuri showed his neck.

“I believe it’s a warning from Mother.”

“Why is that?”

“Because, after having that dream, the necklace disappeared.”

It was true.

The necklace, which had shone brightly at the end of his previous life, vanished without a trace upon returning to the past.

“You didn’t lose it?”

“Father.”

Yuri furrowed his brow.

Even if it was him, would he lie about his mother’s keepsake?

Fiore chuckled lightly, stroking his son’s head.

“I understand. So, it’s because of the dream that you wish to change.”

“That’s correct.”

“Lily will be pleased.”

Lily was his mother’s name.

“So, in your dream, what exactly caused the kingdom’s downfall?”

Yuri pondered for a moment.

He wasn’t sure if it was wise to mention the Empire.

Perhaps by coming back and changing the past, the Empire’s invasion might not happen at all.

“I don’t really know myself.”

After deliberation, Yuri answered.

There would come a day when he would warn about the Empire; it could wait until then.

“It was a mysterious black army. They were stronger than our knights of Briol.”

Fiore nodded.

“I see. Whether it’s just a bad dream or if Lily’s warning about the future is real, it’s a good thing you’ve come to your senses.”

Well, is it really?

Yuri internally shook his head.

Rather than coming to his senses, he was just struggling for redemption.

But he did gain one realization.

The voice of the Death Knight, trapped without dying in the dungeon, resonated in his ears,
‘Briol never abandons honor.’

“Does this explanation suffice?”

“No.”

“But I told you everything…”

“One more thing.”

Fiore made an unexpected suggestion.

“Bring your sword.”

* * *

The chamber was vast and quiet.

Save for the luminous lights from the ceiling, it was desolate.

Though Yuri knew that his father’s private training room existed in the palace’s underground, it was his first time visiting.

Massive cracks, difficult to imagine being caused by a sword, were prominent everywhere.

It was always known that when his father disappeared, he was here training.

Just how strong did he aim to become?

“You’ve come,” a voice called out.

Turning around, Yuri saw his father already standing there.

Fiore Briol.

A genius who supposedly held a sword ever since he could walk.

He had won the Imperial Knight Tournament at the tender age of youth and made a name for himself across the continent with his astounding martial prowess against the orc invasions.

Now he was considered the closest to being the strongest among the continent’s top ten warriors.

“It’s your first time here, isn’t it?”

“I thought none of my sons had talent with the sword.”

“Ehem…”

Yuri disagreed with that statement.

Though he had been troublesome and neglected his training, thereby not achieving high mastery, his martial talent was always acknowledged.

To dismiss him as untalented, how high were his father’s standards?

“Do you disagree?”

“Yes. I believe I have talent with the sword.”

“Talent, you say…”

Fiore raised his sword.

His beloved sword, ‘Biting Wind,’ gleamed under the lights.

“What do you think swordsmanship talent entails?”

The question left Yuri pondering.

Fiore provided examples.

“Inherent strength? Speed? Reflexes? Or perhaps exceptional intuition?”

“Doesn’t it encompass all of them?”

“So, which of these do you believe you possess?”

“I think I have all of them.”

“Then do you think you’ll become an exceptional swordsman eventually?”

Just as Yuri was about to claim so confidently, he paused.

His previous life didn’t feature him as a proper swordsman.

Although he clung steadfastly to his rusty talents against the Empire’s invasion, he wasn’t better than any other knight.

“Before the dream, I don’t think I would have become one.”

“How were you in that dream?”

“I was pitiful.”

“There are plenty like that. They shine brightly in their youth but become ordinary in the end.”

Fiore swiped his sword in the air. Even his slightest movements were extraordinary.

“What I’m talking about isn’t those superficial matters. With continued training, anyone can eventually reach a realm, whether sooner or later. What’s important is the element that drives a person beyond that.”

“Beyond that…”

“In your case, you’re extremely lazy. Physically, you might have talents, but.”

“So, effort is key?”

“Something beyond effort. Something that surpasses urgency or obligation.”

Fiore looked at his sword.

Shadows seemed to flicker within his eyes.

Suddenly, Yuri found that appearance rather peculiar.

Even though his father was merely looking at his beloved sword, he appeared to be someone entranced by it, as if he had lost his senses. Though brief, Yuri felt a foreignness about him.

Yuri instinctively gripped his sword.

“I can’t quite describe it well. Perhaps calling it the ‘call of the sword’ fits.”

He could vaguely understand what it meant.

Yuri murmured, “Is it like fate?”

“I don’t favor such passive concepts, but perhaps.”

In his past life, Yuri was naturally talented but didn’t dedicate himself to swordsmanship.

In other words, he wasn’t drawn to the sword.

He wasn’t destined to walk the path of the sword.

What about now?

Yuri focused on the sword, ‘Guilty,’ which the Death Knight had passed on to him.

“……”

Despite being buried for a long time, the flawless, gleaming blade reflected his eyes.

It was the distinct black eyes of the Briol Royal Family, silent and steady.

That’s all there was.

“What do you think, my son?”

Fiore whispered.

“Do you feel inclined to wield the sword?”

He was uncertain.

To Yuri, the sword was merely a tool, something devoid of any fate or unpredictability.

Even if he relived his life, he might not become a man obsessed with the sword like Fiore.

“Do you hear the sword calling you? When you eventually meet your demise, will there be a sword in your hand?”

He wasn’t sure.

While he resolved not to repeat past mistakes, that didn’t necessarily equate to becoming an outstanding swordsman.

Yuri slowly shook his head.

“I… I don’t feel anything…”

He lifted his eyes and looked at Fioré.

“Nothing is calling me…”

And then, he recoiled in surprise at the crimson eyes gazing down at him.

Shadows rose from everywhere.

Thousands, tens of thousands of eyes were fixed on him.

The day Briol was trampled and set ablaze by the Empire came back to life.

“Ah…”

A fiery disaster surrounded him.

Despair and sorrow filled the earth.

The Imperial Army marched over the corpses.

He was powerless to stop it.

Helplessness settled over his entire being.

The emotions of that day came rushing back.

As he watched the Briol flag tumble from the palace, Yuri sensed the inevitable downfall he could not resist.

However,

‘Never fear your enemies.’

The voice of a sinner echoed in his ears.

Yuri gripped his sword.

It didn’t matter if he won or lost.

It wasn’t about living or dying.

Nor did he concern himself with the destiny laid before him.

‘Do what you believe in.’

Simply, he had to do it.

Even if he had to roll bare-skinned over swords and spears, he would wield his sword.

The Empire’s Black Army advanced.

Without hesitation, Yuri charged forward.

Killing and receiving wounds, he kept pushing forward, cutting down enemies around him.

Eventually, his body wavered and, like a paper boat caught in a storm, sank between the black armors of the imperial soldiers.

Death.

‘Fulfill the duty of Briol to the end’

As his body was torn to pieces, Yuri laughed in ecstasy.

“Yuri?”

Then he lifted his gaze again.

His father was looking down at him.

What exactly had he just seen?

“You are…”

His hand holding ‘Guilty’ trembled.

Yuri blinked.

His vision, tinted red, began to return to normal.

As he took deep breaths to calm himself, he wondered how much time had passed.

Fiore’s face bore both a faint smile and deep concern.

“It seems I was wrong about you.”

Fiore patted Yuri on the shoulder.

While he usually felt uneasy whenever his father raised his hand, this time it was strangely comforting.

Instead of dreading it, he felt enveloped in warmth and peace.

“Yuri.”

“Yes.”

“You will wield the sword.”

Yuri nodded.

“I’ve made my decision.”

Seeing Fiore’s bittersweet expression, Yuri cheekily smacked his father’s backside.

“Don’t worry. I’m a genius, after all.”

He got hit on the head.