I Became the Youngest Prince in the Novel

An impressive five-story stone building stands on the outskirts of the Agnes Empire's capital.

A big sign reading "Night of Rest" swings at the entrance. This building is a well-known inn in the city, a must-see for any overnight visitor.

However, the inn's name, "Night of Rest", holds a secret double meaning.

Rest, here, not only refers to a good night's sleep but also to the eternal sleep of death.

This inn is actually a front for one of the capital's most skilled teams of assassins.

"He was mad."

On the top floor of the "Night of Rest" building, the highest-ranking officials of the assassin's group meet, their faces serious.

"It's to be expected, considering we've messed up twice."

Number 1, the top assassin at the "Night of Rest", talks first. Number 2, face hidden behind a mask, replies.

Two attacks on Chimseong Palace, home to the ousted prince.

Both were the work of the "Night of Rest".

The orders came from 'him', a man of great power in the palace, and so success was crucial.

But both attempts failed.

"I still can't figure out why the second hit didn't work."

While the first attempt might be forgivable, the second one should have been a sure thing.

They'd put everything they had into it, considering the strength of Chimseong Palace and all possible outcomes. Number 4, one of their strongest, was even part of the mission.

Plus, 'he' had stepped in to eliminate all external factors.

Why had it gone wrong?

"Number 4 said someone incredibly strong was secretly protecting Chimseong Palace. He said he got beat by this person."

Number 3 speaks up, recalling the words of Number 4, now locked up in a basement dungeon for his mission failure and escape.

"Do you think someone that strong would really protect a prince who's basically been thrown away?"

"Enough. What's done is done. We need to focus on the job 'he' has given us now. It's likely... our last shot."

At Number 1's words, a heavy silence settles over the others.

They know that if they mess this up too, it won't just be their lives in danger. The entire 'Night of Rest' operation will be on the line.

"So, the succession ceremony is happening in the Imperial Palace?"

"Yes, as usual, 'he' will sort out the way into the palace..."

And then.

"So, who's 'he'?"

From behind Number 1, a new, high-pitched voice spoke up.

Instantly.

Swoosh!

Number 1 whipped out his dagger and swung it towards the voice without a second thought.

This room was meant only for the top officials.

An unknown voice could only mean one thing—an enemy had slipped in.

But.

"You're quick to act."

Thud!

What hit the floor wasn't the source of the voice, but Number 1's arm.

"But not so talented."

Murmuring, the voice's owner stepped into the light.

A woman with hair dark as night and eyes a chilling red.

Her name was Liushina.

"Kill her."

Without even asking who she was, Number 1, now backing away to control the bleeding from his severed arm, issued the command.

Swoosh!

Immediately, all the assassins in the room readied themselves and charged at Liushina.

Liushina merely watched them, an amused look on her face.

"I always appreciate such invitations."

She was here on Zion's orders.

Zion hadn't forgotten about the attack on Chimseong Palace, so he'd tasked Liushina with handling it.

He believed Liushina could wipe them out without leaving a trace.

Splut!

Meanwhile, Number 7, who had reached Liushina first, threw a needle to distract her, then lunged forward, aiming a long spike at her heart.

But.

Gulp!

Before he could, a beast's head that appeared out of nowhere swallowed Number 7's head whole.

The other assassins trembled at the sight.

Still, Number 5 kept his cool, aiming a sword at Liushina's throat over Number 7's body.

Or rather, he tried to.

Crack!

Before he could, his upper body was torn apart by a bloody streak from Liushina's fingertips.

Was Number 5 just a distraction?

As if on cue, Numbers 1, 2, and 3 leapt out from the shadows on both sides and behind Liushina.

Then, a swift strike.

Thump!

Two swords impaled Liushina in important spots, as if she hadn't seen it coming.

And then.

"Die, monster."

Finally, Number 1's sword sliced her throat.

Slice!

With a thud, Liushina's head rolled to the floor.

"Phew...."

Relief washed over the faces of the remaining assassins.

"I wonder who's the real monster."

This, before a chilling voice echoed from the severed head on the floor.

"!!!!!!"

Horror filled their eyes.

In their gaze, blood poured endlessly from Liushina's headless neck, staining not just the room but the entire building.

And then.

Screeeech!

In a world drenched in crimson, countless demons surfaced, too many to count.

Within the 'Night of Respite', now transformed into a hellish landscape.

"The real monster lurks elsewhere."

Liushina, her neck now reattached, relished the anticipation of the upcoming feast.

---

Raei Translations

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The Succession Ceremony.

A basic qualification test for a direct descendant of Agnes to ascend to the throne.

While it usually only took place in the year when a royal family member came of age, it wasn't restricted to direct descendants alone.

The guardians of Agnes, scattered throughout the empire, could also participate in the ceremony alongside the direct descendants.

Even though passing the ceremony didn't guarantee them succession rights, they still partook, for a simple reason.

By principle, the guardians of Agnes were forbidden from entering the Imperial City or even using the Agnes name.

However, passing the Succession Ceremony allowed them one exceptional privilege: access to the capital.

A singular opportunity for the guardians' families.

So, nearly ten families of Agnes's guardians had gathered at the grand battlefield on the outskirts of the Imperial City, where Prince Zion Agnes's succession ceremony was being held.

"You claimed you wouldn't set foot in the Imperial City... yet here you are?"

A woman with a melancholic demeanor and long, light gray hair addressed the sharp-featured man who had approached her.

His name was Veil Ilones.

A rising star of the Steel Tower, he was a prodigious mage, famed for mastering high-ranking ceremonies at the tender age of twenty.

"You're doing the same, aren't you?"

Veil smirked at the woman, Renet Ilones, as he responded.

Like Veil, she was a participant in this succession ceremony, bearing the guardian family name, 'Ilones', and was a member of one of only five elite exploration teams worldwide.

"I couldn't let such an opportunity pass. I thought there wouldn't be another succession ceremony for some time."

Renet shrugged in response to Veil's comment.

Veil nodded as though he shared her sentiment.

"That's true. I must admit, I was surprised too. That worthless Prince is holding a succession ceremony."

The Worthless Prince, Zion Agnes.

Despite not being worthless, the moniker had stuck because he had been sequestered in the Star Palace from a young age, never seen in public.

There were very few who had seen him in person and even less who knew any substantial information about him. But those who needed to know, did.

The most disastrous pure-blooded royal in history.

The embodiment of failure and the shame of the Agnes Imperial Family.

It was public knowledge that he wasn't even treated as a legitimate member of the royal family.

"If Prince Zion truly is as rumored... he shouldn't be participating in the succession ceremony."

"Isn't it more that he shouldn't, rather than doesn't need to?"

Renet muttered, casting a discreet glance around.

She spotted them - the guardians whose skill rivaled hers and Veil's.

Any individual bearing the surname Agnes or Ilones could register for the succession ceremony, but only these uniquely gifted individuals applied, for a simple reason.

'Enter with mediocre abilities, and you're more likely to perish before ever passing the succession ceremony.'

What attributes should an emperor have?

Charisma to guide the populace.

Judgment to distinguish truth from falsehood.

Tolerance to accept the world.

There were numerous qualities, but the most prized in the Agnes Imperial Family was strength.

Overpowering might capable of demolishing everything.

Such might had to be demonstrated to ascend to the throne of the Agnes Empire, a tradition since the time of the first Emperor.

As such, the 'succession ceremony,' the initial qualification test to become the Emperor, also prioritized strength, failure of which could result in death.

'Of course, such an occurrence hasn't transpired in any succession ceremonies So far.'

All direct descendants of Agnes were exceptional, showcasing an insurmountable gap to the guardians in their late twenties or even mid-thirties, despite being in their early adulthood.

But this ceremony might break the tradition.

"What in the world was he considering? Well, his decision works in our favor."

The supervisors at the forefront of the battlefield seemed to echo Renet's sentiment, exchanging disgruntled words.

"He should've stayed quiet like an insignificant mouse, yet he's creating a stir."

"Exactly. But why hasn't he shown up yet when the succession ceremony is about to start?"

The supervisors surveyed the battlefield, echoing this sentiment.

But Prince Zion was nowhere in sight.

"......Did he get cold feet?"

"He might be cowering under his blanket right now."

"This will be the first succession ceremony without a direct royal family member."

"Heh, that might even be for the best."

Some guardians chuckled upon overhearing their conversation.

A prince too fearful to attend his own succession ceremony.

What a disgraceful reputation to bear.

This would undoubtedly cause Prince Zion's name to plummet even further.

In the midst of such ridicule, finally,

"Given Prince Zion's absence, we will proceed with the succession ceremony with the present attendees......"

Just as Lambard, captain of the 3rd Royal Guard team, appointed as the highest supervisor for this succession ceremony, attempted to commence the event.

"Prince Zion Agnes approaches!"

At the attendant's proclamation, all heads swiveled towards the battlefield's entrance, as if spellbound.

There he was.

Deep ash-hued hair, an emblem of the Agnes royal lineage, paired with tranquil eyes of the same shade.

His face bore a somewhat lethargic expression, and his body, though lean, was sturdy.

Zion Agnes.

The youngest prince, once shrouded in obscurity, now emerged onto the battlefield.

"Could that be... the disgrace of a prince?"

Renet, observing Prince Zion's relaxed advance, voiced her thoughts aloud, seemingly unaware of her own words.

Her instincts were sharp.

No, they were beyond just "sharp".

These instincts had rescued their expedition team from danger on countless occasions.

Yet now, the moment she laid eyes on Prince Zion, her instincts blared their alarms.

He's different, and dangerous.

Each step he took.

Despite his ordinary pace, she couldn't shake this unsettling feeling.

Could this really be the same man who had brought shame upon the royal family?

What she experienced felt like...

A step.

Zion stopped at the silent epicenter of the battlefield, his gaze leisurely sweeping over the spectators.

Then, a soft voice emanated from him.

"Let's commence the succession ceremony."

Deep within Zion's eyes, a vibrant second star was spinning.

***

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