When Ars crawled out of the cave and looked up, the sky was blanketed with countless stars. It was like a myriad of jewels scattered across the darkness, leaving him momentarily breathless. But before he could savor the beauty, a sharp voice sliced through the night's silence the moment he returned.
"Where in the world have you been until now!? Do you have any idea how worried I was? If you'd been any later, we would've had to assemble a search party!"
The owner of the voice was Karl von Hans Oster. A rare individual who had personally volunteered to teach Ars swordsmanship. Though an elderly retired general of Lorentz, his well-balanced physique still radiated the intensity of someone who never neglected his training. His piercing gaze and imposing presence were as formidable as ever, no one would guess he was retired.
Karl was one of the few who treated Ars without discrimination, just like the other princes. His strictness showed clearly in the education of all the royal children. Right now, he stood with arms crossed, tapping his index finger rhythmically against his arm, a habit that appeared only when he was truly furious.
Ars clicked his tongue inwardly. *This is bad…* He racked his brain for how to explain today's events. The crystal's light, the mysterious power that flowed into his body, the enigmatic characters carved on the walls, it was impossible to believe, let alone explain. Moreover, for some reason he felt a twinge of guilt, as if he'd touched something extraordinarily forbidden, stirring unease deep in his chest. In the end, Ars decided to keep the truth hidden.
"I'm sorry for worrying you," he said, bowing his head honestly, then lied that he'd tripped over a tree root, knocked himself out, and only just come to. Karl let out a deep sigh, raising his eyebrows in exasperation, but relief seemed to wash over him upon confirming Ars was unharmed.
"Prince Altus, tomorrow you must properly report to His Majesty that you're safe. You too are a pillar who will support Lorentz's future, after all."
Altus, that was Ars's formal name. But he never quite liked it, so close acquaintances usually called him "Ars." At Karl's words, Ars gave a small nod, though his heart felt heavy.
*Tomorrow I have to report to Father, huh…* Back in his room, he flopped onto the bed and scratched his head. Even if it was a spur-of-the-moment lie, he should've come up with something more convincing. Now his excuse just sounded pathetic. He was bound to earn mocking laughter from Father and his brothers.
*No use dwelling on it.* Ars shook his head and sat up. He reviewed what had happened today once more. That crystal's light, he'd definitely felt some incomprehensible power. And those characters… They clearly weren't modern script, but something about them felt vaguely familiar.
Still, no matter how he searched his memory, he couldn't place where he'd seen them, or if it was just his imagination. Everything was shrouded in unknowns. He let out a long breath and stared at the ceiling.
"Anyway, once tomorrow's report is done, I'll look into it."
The next morning, in the audience chamber stood Ars, his brothers the princes, and their father, King Ludov von Aare de la Lorentz.
Ars's father, King Ludov, didn't particularly hate him for being the "cursed child," but he showed no interest either. Ars's current miserable situation stemmed largely from the accumulated deference and considerations of the king's aides. That said, the king had never once sought to improve it even after learning of the circumstances.
"No, so, um… the tree root was bigger than I thought, you see…"
Ars desperately made excuses, but the king covered his face with his hand and sighed deeply.
"You really are something…" A nearby maid was struggling to hold back laughter, finding it utterly hilarious.
"Ha! What an idiot! If word gets out that a prince on a simple scouting trip tripped over a tree root and passed out, it'll be a disgrace to all of Lorentz! You should've just stayed out there and died quietly like the useless thing you are!"
The one sneering was the second prince, Bernhard.
Among the brothers, he was the tallest, his honed physique truly impressive, but to Ars, he was the most difficult older brother.
Ars had more than enough bitter memories of him. Karl occasionally called the princes together for real combat sparring between siblings. The second prince, Bernhard, was said to have unmatched skill in swordsmanship and was expected to one day become a central figure in Lorentz's military.
Despite the vast difference in physique between the youngest, Ars, and Bernhard, the latter would take advantage of any moment Karl looked away to beat Ars mercilessly. With a wooden sword, he'd strike without mercy, ribs, stomach, hips, chest, legs. When Ars could no longer endure and vomited everything in his stomach before collapsing, Bernhard would kick him away and always say the same thing:
"Weak, weak, weak… Unbefitting of royalty. Because you're weak, the entire kingdom of Lorentz looks weak. Don't you even realize that? If you stay this weak, you'd be better off dead."
If Karl was present, he'd stop it. But when he stepped away, Ars once came close to dying. A thrust from the wooden sword struck his head, knocking him unconscious. Fortunately, Karl found him collapsed in the corner of the training ground and nursed him back, which was why Ars was still alive today.
Perhaps sensing Ars's inner turmoil, the eldest brother Friedrich intervened gently.
"Come now, regardless of how it happened, I'm just glad you made it back safely."
At Friedrich's smile, Ars mentally cried out. *Big Brother Friedrich!* The eldest, excelling in both civil and military arts, gentle and widely respected, he was one of the few allies Ars had. But Bernhard shot back coldly at those words.
"Isn't it because you keep spoiling him like that that he's turned out so useless?"
Friedrich shrugged with a wry smile. Bernhard and Friedrich had never gotten along well. The eldest brother's excellence constantly cast a shadow of comparison over Bernhard. As a child, Bernhard had been cheerful, but jealousy and inferiority toward his brother gradually made his words and actions rougher.
To Ars, the conflict between his brothers felt like something from a distant world. But at that moment, he could never have imagined that Bernhard would later cause a major incident that would go down in history.