The Terminally Ill Prince is the Mad Dog of the Underworld (Novel) - Chapter 27

Chapter 27. So, You Were a Genius After All?

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I received a guest in the study adjacent to my bedroom.

“Prince Allenbert, it’s been a while.”

The maid, with a stern face, offered a somewhat lacking bow. She was none other than the maid who served the second wife.

“Oh, you’ve come in person.”

I, too, crossed my legs arrogantly and rested my arms on the sofa, mimicking the posture of a third-rate gang leader full of bluster.

“Lady Emengarde Grünewald, the second wife, has heard about Prince Baklava’s situation and sends her condolences and regrets.”

“Condolences and regrets?”

I rolled those two words around in my mouth. What vague and ambiguous terms they were.

Apologies, remorse, regret… All those were words of the weak. The strong never apologize to the weak; doing so would tarnish their dignity.

“Haha.”

And I’m not so young as to get angry over such absurdities. If I were, I’d have long gone to the butler demanding to meet my father—the one who abandoned my mother and me—only to be dragged out and placed under house arrest.

“Since my dear second mother feels regretful, I too am not in the best of spirits. But I do wonder what kind of discipline my brother received that allowed him to utter such disgraceful words.”

I am a man who can feign calmness and even act out anger when necessary.

“The second wife and Prince Baklava have both been severely reprimanded. He is currently reflecting on his actions.”

“I see.”

I pointed at the wooden box the maid had brought with her.

“And what is that?”

“The second wife has sent a small gift as a token of her condolences.”

“Ah, such gifts are welcome in abundance. How unfortunate that this one is only small.”

The maid neither smiled nor frowned. It seemed that anyone serving nobility in this household had to first master controlling their facial expressions like this.

“Please open it.”

At the maid’s prompting, I opened the box with the same feeling as a thief cracking open a lock. The lid was heavy—clearly made from fine wood.

“Oh.”

As soon as I opened it, the sweet scent of honey and dense mana wafted up toward me.

“This is an elixir.”

“It is honey harvested from the hive of bees that only live in the deepest and most rugged mountains. It not only increases mana for those who consume it but also aids in restoring vitality and detoxification.”

“Is that so? I’m glad she didn’t send some disgusting bug or hard-to-eat mushroom under the guise of an elixir.”

I made a light joke.

“I’m relieved that it pleases you.”

“Pleases me indeed. Truth be told, I have quite the sweet tooth.”

“Oh, really?”

“Now that I think about it, some beautiful flowers would have been nice too.”

“Elixirs made from flowers often need to be consumed right where they are harvested, so I hope you’ll understand…”

“But tell me something.”

As the atmosphere grew more amicable, I casually asked:

“Is this precious honey perhaps harvested from the mountains of the mountain tribes?”

“…Yes.”

I didn’t miss the brief hesitation in her response.

“So then, this is a tribute from the usurpers who assassinated my grandfather and took his place. Truly a precious gift they’ve bestowed upon me.”

“!”

For the first time, a look of panic crossed the maid’s face.

“P-Prince… You’ve regained your memory?”

Did she come here to mock me after hearing rumors that I had lost my memory? Or perhaps she was testing me? I chuckled softly as I responded.

“Of course I’ve regained it. It’s not something that can be hidden forever, is it?”

“…”

“What an ironic gift this is. Ah, how cruel. To think they would offer me such a thing as compensation…”

I reached into the box and pulled out one of the small jars of honey.

“Isn’t this too much? Knowing full well how my mother and brother were insulted… Instead of an apology, they throw this at me like charity—”

My voice grew colder than when I had intimidated Marco earlier.

“…It turns out this gift is nothing more than an object mocking my mother.”

My heart felt as cold as someone walking alone on a bitter winter night.

“My prince…”

At this point, even this stiff-necked maid—who had seen her fair share of trials—turned pale and bowed her head deeply.

“I’m sure there was no such intention behind it.”

“Are you privy to all your mistress’s thoughts?”

“No… No, I am not.”

“Did you say something you couldn’t take responsibility for just to get out of this situation?”

“Your Highness…”

“The problem is…”

I pointed at the maid.

“Even the words you uttered to escape are pitifully inadequate.”

I gazed steadily into the eyes of the maid, who had likely navigated the palace of the duchy, but had never known the true fear of a battlefield where real swords and blood clashed.

“Am I supposed to believe that all these coincidences are mere accidents? You may not be at fault, but it’s starting to infuriate me.”

The maid couldn’t hold my gaze and lowered her eyes.

“Do I look that easy to you?”

“No, Your Highness. I apologize.”

It seemed that the gravity of this situation, which had suddenly become much heavier in just a few exchanges, hadn’t fully dawned on her yet. But then again, it was likely too much for her to handle.

“…”

I imposed a silence upon her that must have felt like an eternity.

“To the second wife,” I said quietly, causing the maid’s shoulders to tremble.

“Tell her I accept her gift with gratitude.”

I spoke in a condescending tone, my face showing no sign of actual gratitude.

“And make sure to report every word of this conversation.”

“I understand.”

“Get up.”

The maid struggled to stand, her legs shaking.

“If there’s nothing more you wish to ask, I will take my leave.”

“Go ahead.”

I watched her unsteady figure as she closed the door behind her and left.

“…”

Peter, who had been holding his breath throughout the entire exchange, cautiously approached me.

“M-Master…”

“What?”

I chuckled as I looked at Peter’s dumbfounded face, unsure how to comfort me.

“You’re still terrible with words.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Half of that anger was intentional anyway.”

“Huh? Really?”

Peter looked shocked for a moment before letting out an “Ah!” in realization.

“So then… the other half was—”

“As I kept talking, I just got more pissed off.”

Once someone sees you as weak, they won’t hesitate to mock you cruelly—that’s human nature and especially true among nobles.

Of course, the scum from the underworld are no less filthy. One side is shady and the other is vulgar. 

And I just realized that I dislike shadiness more than vulgarity.

“Ah, suddenly I’m really pissed off.”

I stood up from my seat.

“W-Where are you going?”

“I need to sweat it out. Maybe then my head will cool down. I’ll be back.”

“I’ll come with you!”

Peter hurriedly followed behind me.

* * *

“Huff… Huff…”

I pushed my body until I could taste blood in my mouth and felt like my heart might burst.

“Kyaaah!”

The sip of water afterward was incredibly sweet.

“Wow, that was disgustingly refreshing.”

I turned to Peter, who had been watching me with concern, and gave him an order.

“Get that honey out for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Peter retrieved the small jar of honey from earlier.

“I’m going to eat it and meditate. Stand guard for me.”

“Understood.”

With Peter looking rather solemn behind me, I consumed the elixir in honey form. It was so thick that I had to scrape the bottom with my fingers. I should’ve brought a spoon.

“Whew… It’s so sweet it’s making me dizzy.”

What do they call that sensation when your head spins after eating something sweet? If I ever meet Josef again—that doctor—I’ll have to ask him. With that thought in mind, I closed my eyes.

It felt as if something hot and fiery traveled down my throat like thick liquor instead of honey.

‘Focus now.’

I operated the Ocean Circulation Heart technique, moving mana through my five organs and feeling it circulate between them. Gradually, the murky energy clogging my veins was washed away by the pure energy of the elixir.

‘This is ridiculous.’

It was like dealing with bandits blocking every road demanding tolls.

‘Get lost. This isn’t your time.’

After driving out those unknown energies that tried to take root in my organs whenever they got a chance, I calmed myself down.

The Ocean Circulation Heart technique had a calming effect on both body and mind—one of the characteristics of refined and foundational techniques.

‘Emengarde Grünewald… second wife, was it?’

With a clear and tranquil mind, I thought back on the mockery she had sent me earlier this morning.

‘How vicious and insidious.’

How many times had I endured such insults? Probably too many to even record in a diary.

‘Allenbert.’

In the silent darkness, beneath the black sea of my consciousness, I recalled the diary I had found last night.

‘You hid in a cave because you hated all of this.’

The diary began with the early days of Allenbert’s life.

The earlier entries were mostly bright and hopeful. The boy felt gratitude and pity for the servants who devoted themselves to him, and he was affectionate even toward the relatives from his mother’s side whom he rarely saw. He was also a kind child who could understand the hearts of his siblings, even those who disliked or envied him.

‘But this Olivier… Could it be the same Olivier I know?’

It was an unexpected coincidence, but if so, there must have been reasons unknown to me as to why such a promising man, the nephew of the head butler, was assigned to assist me.

‘…You hid it well. How clever.’

Allenbert often expressed his respect and fear for his father and his attachment and trust in his mother in his diary.

However, after ‘that incident,’ it seemed Allenbert hadn’t looked at his diary for a long time.

In the latter part of the diary, where his writing had matured but also became cramped and hurried, revealing his anxiety…

It was filled with Allenbert’s despair.

‘Frustration with fate. Longing for and resentment toward his mother. A love-hate relationship with his father.’

There was an effort to understand, yet anger still lingered.

The diary was full of complaints about his siblings and a burning desire for revenge against his enemies.

He even wrote about his worries for the relatives on his mother’s side, whom he had met only briefly and who had since left for a place where he could no longer reach them.

…And then there was a sentence left by 16-year-old Allenbert on the final page, after all those boiling emotions had seemingly burned out:

– Soon, my life will fade away like ashes in time. I don’t think I’ll live past twenty. All I wish is to be like a bird flying over the sea. But my soul is trapped in this small cave, quietly rotting away.

In that suffocating emptiness, Allenbert also wrote this:

– If someone reads this diary long after I’m gone, I hope they bury this hollow echo deep within their heart. Even in death, I do not wish to be mocked.

But Allenbert, your despair will not come true. Because there is someone—me—who will walk the path you couldn’t take.

‘You will not die in vain. You don’t even know what death truly is.’

The sensation of losing everything and fading away is terrifying.

For 17 years, I slept, but in truth, it was no different from being dead. Karzan’s life ended back then, and Karzan’s body disappeared as well.

That’s why now that I’ve started my second life, I have no intention of dying so meaninglessly again.

‘And Allenbert, poor boy.’

Are you still curled up somewhere within my heart? If so, keep watching. Karzan may have been your past life, but perhaps all of this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe I’m nothing more than an uninvited guest inhabiting your body.

But either way, I won’t do anything that harms you. In fact, I intend to fulfill the dreams and desires you once held dear.

There’s nothing more tragic than a human life ending without ever having burned brightly even once.

‘Allenbert. Remember this: being alive is a good thing.’

I know because I’ve experienced death. Nothing happens in nothingness. Only by being alive can you experience happiness or hatred.

How much time had passed?

Amidst all these thoughts, I suddenly noticed that the flow of mana had changed.

‘Hmm?’

To put it simply—I had unknowingly reached the fifth level of Ocean Circulation Heart technique.

‘What is this?’

Feeling bewildered, I cursed inwardly as if all my sympathy for Allenbert had vanished in an instant.

‘So you were a genius after all?’

Now that I think about it—not only did he have an elven-like face, but his affinity with mana was also almost at an elven level.

‘Amazing. This crazy b*st*rd.’

The world was truly unfair. What kind of guy is this?