The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character

Episode 13: The New Adventurer Bern (11) – Reprimanding Wrongdoing

Episode 13: The New Adventurer Bern (11) – Reprimanding Wrongdoing

Blanca had always considered Bern to be an exceedingly genteel person.

He didn’t flirt with female adventurers.

He never displayed a condescending or arrogant attitude.

He didn’t utter curse words or engage in vulgar jokes.

His attire was never disheveled, nor did he emit any unpleasant odor from neglecting to bathe.

One might ask if these aren’t obvious expectations, but within the adventurer profession, the number of individuals capable of consistently meeting these obvious standards was remarkably scarce.

What else could explain that the Guild office prized ‘absence of a mouth like a sewer’ so highly in its receptionist applicants?

Bern, in his own mind, probably thought he was embodying the very spirit of adventure with his words and deeds. Yet, to Blanca’s eyes, every little thing about the young man screamed ‘pampered upbringing’.

“Can’t tell a conversation from a threat, you witless dolt?”

Thus, when a torrent of unfiltered curses erupted from Bern’s lips, Blanca was taken aback more than anyone else present.

Bern’s demeanor had turned utterly hostile, his gaze radiating undisguised fury.

A far cry from the almost playful air he’d exuded when he himself was the one being provoked.

“…Witless dolt? Are you talking to me? Can you back up those words?”

However, Karina and her companions were just as quick to bristle.

As an adventurer, Karina preferred to avoid conflict with opponents whose true skill remained unknown, but this stemmed from a cautious habit ingrained in adventurers when facing uncertain risks. It was not out of fear of defeat against Bern.

More than anything, to back down after being insulted so publicly would turn Karina and her group into a laughingstock among their fellow adventurers.

“You’d best choose your words carefully. We only give newbies one free pass.”

Regardless of her character, Karina’s aptitude as a mage was undeniable.

As she began to draw upon her magic in earnest, the ambient temperature plummeted, turning the balmy spring day as cold as if one were suddenly inside an ice vault.

Even the onlookers, who had been idly observing the unfolding situation, felt their bodies beginning to stiffen.

Opening their mouths to speak became impossible, and even the smallest movement of their fingertips required several times the usual effort.

Blanca’s face paled.

She had realized that Karina wasn’t using a specific spell; this phenomenon was being caused by pure, unadulterated magic power.

The Adventurers’ Guild categorized adventurers into seven ranks, but the highest-ranking adventurer within the Guild rarely surpassed Rank 5.

This was because the continent as a whole had a culture of assigning skill levels in seven stages.

Among those, the number 4 held particularly strong symbolism.

Among the chattering gossips, there were even those who called it the dividing line between humans and transcendents.

A warrior could then unleash sword aura, a priest borrow the divine authority of their god.

And a mage… the inherent nature of magic itself would become imbued within them, greatly enhancing the power and efficiency of their spells.

It wasn’t that they didn’t know Bern’s strength, but to stand alone against a 4th Circle mage – especially an ice-attribute one, notorious for being the most difficult in single combat – and several companions of a 3rd Circle Upper level or better, was an impossibility.

Blanca desperately tried to stop Bern, but alas, her body, caught in the chilling air, wouldn’t obey her commands.

All she could do was weakly grip the sleeve of Bern’s garment.

Bern turned his gaze towards Blanca.

“It’s alright.”

A brief phrase.

But also, a phrase brimming with conviction.

Leaving the frozen Blanca behind, Bern strode towards Karina.

Karina narrowed her eyes and summoned an ice spike, launching it toward Bern.

*Shwook!*

An attack that, under normal circumstances, would have grazed Bern’s cheek and intimidated him was, incredibly, intercepted by Bern’s own hand.

He had simply seized the incoming spike.

“How…”

Karina, taken aback by Bern’s astonishing reflexes even amidst her frigid aura, flinched, but quickly decided Bern’s action was a blunder.

If bare skin touched ice or metal in such a sub-zero environment, the flesh would instantly adhere and tear away.

He’d have been better off deflecting it with a sword or the back of his hand, but grabbing it bare-handed meant his hand was now one and the same with the spike.

Karina summoned three new spikes and fired them.

Even if she grasped one with her remaining left hand, she couldn’t possibly block the other icicles.

She hadn’t intended to kill him, but the bone-chilling cold would surely have him bedridden for days, groaning in agony.

But, as before, Karina’s expectations were dashed.

Bern, without any apparent difficulty, extended his right hand – the one he supposedly couldn’t use – and snatched all three icicles out of the air with a casual flick of his wrist.

Four icicles, in total, were wedged like darts between Bern’s right fingers.

As if to flaunt it, Bern held up his hand for Karina to see, then clenched his fist, crushing the icicles into dust in an instant.

Karina retreated, creating distance, and two warriors stepped forward as if to replace her.

“This b*stard, he really wants to go at it? Huh?”

“Haa, tsk.”

One was the man with the flippant demeanor who had readily joined Karina in insulting Blanca, and the other was a burly, bearded man who seemed uneasy about the situation, but steeled himself, as if resigned to his fate.

Most adventurers wore simple cloth or leather armor, if even that, protecting only the core parts of their bodies. These two warriors, however, wore full metal armor, complete with chainmail and steel plates.

Furthermore, judging by the fact that they showed no signs of being cold even in Karina’s chilling aura, they seemed to have some other means of resisting the cold.

This was a level comparable to the regular soldiers of a decent domain. It wasn’t unreasonable for them to feel confident.

But Bern, completely unconcerned, moved forward once again.

“You piece of shit!”

Enraged by his nonchalant attitude, the flippant man swung his longsword.

Unlike Karina, who had at least tried to avoid hitting vital points, this attack was clearly intended to kill.

Bern, once again, extended his hand.

People braced themselves for a gruesome spectacle, a torrent of blood, but the sword did not cut Bern’s hand.

No, it couldn’t even leave a scratch on his flesh.

“You—you b*stard!!”

The frivolous man panicked, struggling to wrench his sword free, but Vern’s hand remained immovable.

As if flicking his wrist, Vern lifted the man’s hand from below, and his longsword slid out with a *shhlick*.

Vern grasped it as if the blade were the hilt itself.

The frivolous man seemed unable to comprehend the situation, his face slack with disbelief, but his companions didn’t stand idly by.

“Hmph!”

The bearded man aimed a hexagonal mace at Vern’s flank, and a rogue, having circled behind him, slashed a dagger at his back.

Even above Vern, an icicle of unprecedented size plummeted earthward.

Indeed, a combination worthy of those who called themselves veterans.

But it wasn’t enough to work on Vern.

*Thwack!*

“Gah…argh!!”

The frivolous man was the first to fall.

His own sword, but it was the hilt and guard, not the blade, that slammed into his shoulder, digging deep into his flesh.

With the horrific pain of a shattered collarbone, the man choked on bloody foam and passed out.

Using the momentum from the blow, Vern launched himself upward into a handstand, and the attacks of the bearded warrior and the rogue cut through empty air.

The second was the rogue.

Kicking apart the icicle that had threatened to crush him, Vern plummeted back down onto the rogue, seizing the back of his head and slamming it into the ground.

*Thud!*

A gruesome sound echoed as the rogue’s body convulsed violently, then went limp as though all strength had abandoned him.

The third was the one, the warrior with the beard.

Vern, dodging another ice shard with a sharp turn of his head, kicked the bearded warrior in the torso, sending him flying.

The warrior slammed into the wall, seemingly still conscious, but his limbs trembled violently, rendering him unable to move.

The fourth was the healing mage, who had been standing idly by.

Whether his skills were inherently inferior compared to the others, or not, even as his comrades fell, he seemed incapable of grasping the situation, only now belatedly preparing his healing magic.

A stark contrast to Karina, who had sent volleys of harassing attack spells and, even now, desperately tried to block Vern’s path with walls of ice.

Vern shattered the ice wall blocking his path with a kick, sending the shards flying at the healing mage.

The healing mage, unable to mount any meaningful defense, simply let out a frog-like croak and collapsed onto the floor.

Lastly.

Karina, having witnessed all her magic easily countered and realizing the difference in skill, approached her, completely devoid of fight, trembling. Vern spoke to her:

“Still, like a tall tale? Even now, you think we fabricated a reason to claim undeserved credit? Unless your head is filled with cotton rather than brains, you understand, don’t you? We have no need. If we need achievements, we’ll earn them through skill.”

Vern’s gaze and words were directed at Karina, but the onlookers felt a chilling sensation distinct from what they’d felt before.

Though they couldn’t openly gossip like Karina’s party, owing to the Guild’s recognition, not a few adventurers harbored doubts about the achievements of Vern and Blanca.

Vern’s words reached the ears of those adventurers who had gossiped behind their backs like a warning directed at them.

However, the pressure they felt was nothing compared to what Karina was experiencing, facing Vern’s eyes directly.

In Vern’s eyes, Karina saw something immense, something that defied even the slightest resistance.

Karina had even met a member of the only 5th-tier party in the entire Adventurer’s Guild, but even *he* hadn’t instilled this feeling with mere eye contact.

Finally, she said with a trembling voice,

“I, I was wrong.”

“Were you?”

“I… I messed up!”

Only then did a smile return to Bern’s face, which had been frozen with coldness.

Karina, too, displayed a look of joy, relieved to be alive.

And then, Bern spoke, his tone returning to its usual calm and polite demeanor.

“Then, it seems you must be punished in proportion to your wrongdoing.”

Huh?

Karina’s reply failed to escape her lips.

*SMACK!*

Along with the intense pain searing across her cheek, her body spun dizzily through the air before slamming into a nearby bin overflowing with restaurant scraps.

Bern glanced around for a moment.

At first glance, it seemed he had equally pulverized all five members of the party, but in truth, only the warrior and rogue, who had attacked with murderous intent, had been dealt with severely. He had, in his own way, moderated his strength against the other three.

At least, by Bern’s standards, there had been neither excessive punishment nor a slap on the wrist.

However, Bern knew that his conclusions were not always necessarily correct.

Therefore, Bern approached Blanca and inquired,

“Is there perhaps someone amongst them who deserves further thrashing? If you could provide a specific numerical estimation of how many times more they should be pulverized, that would be most helpful.”

“What kind of insane…”

Blanca, being a person of common sense, almost blurted out her true feelings, but then, she reminded herself that the creature before her was, at least in some category, her benefactor and lifeline, and cautiously changed her tone.

“T-this… this seems sufficient.”

“Is that so? It seems my judgment was accurate after all. Ahem.”

Bern nodded with an air of satisfaction.

Those eyes were so utterly clear, that not only Blanca, but even those around her were rendered speechless.

[So this is how someone like *that* is treated as the perfect Crown Prince… Ah, so he can’t get his fill over *there*, and it’s overflowing over *here*.]

That devilish realization remained unspoken, locked away from all.