The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character

#14 New Adventurer Bern (12) – Desperation

#14 New Adventurer Bern (12) – Desperation

After entrusting Renya with the rough clean-up.

Bern escorted Blanca to the inn where she was staying.

Right after the battle, Blanca seemed simply dumbfounded by Bern’s words and actions, but as time passed, her expression darkened, and now she openly displayed a melancholic mood that was obvious to anyone.

Bern scratched his cheek and spoke to Blanca.

“You don’t seem to be in good shape today, so why don’t you get some rest and we can meet tomorrow. I rebooked the room next to yours, so even if something happens, I’ll be able to respond immediately. So please, rest easy–”

“Bern. Wait, can you spare me some time?”

Blanca interrupted Bern, looking at him with eyes that seemed to have reached some kind of resolution.

Bern hesitated for a moment, then settled back into his chair.

Blanca’s story began.

*

Blanca’s mother was a magician.

Not some metaphorical statement like, ‘parents seem like magicians to children.’

Her mother could truly conjure fire from thin air, and heal people with a simple touch.

Magic is a precious art.

Even the most basic and lowly spells, like “Fire Wood” or “Freeze Water,” are exorbitantly expensive for commoners to even dream of, and even if they somehow manage to obtain them, they are usually fake.

In that regard, the fact that a housewife from a rural village with no particular lineage – to be able to skillfully wield multiple types of magic – was, to put it plainly, peculiar.

But young Blanca didn’t easily grasp that peculiarity.

Her mother, too clean and beautiful to be just a countrywoman.

A father she had never seen, not once, since birth.

An old sword, kept preciously by her mother in a corner of the house.

Learning to read and write, and the proper etiquette at the dinner table, as if they were the most natural things in the world.

It was only after growing up, venturing into society, and gaining experience that she belatedly realized all those things were ‘uncommon.’ But as a young girl, she lacked the insight to understand the value of what she possessed.

The life of mother and daughter was reasonably affluent.

Blanca’s mother, possessing both beauty and grace, was an incongruous presence in the rural village. Yet, to ostracize her was impossible, for her power was far too precious.

In a village without so much as a temple for priests, let alone a decent apothecary, how could they possibly reject a sorceress who could heal people with a mere touch?

Blanca’s mother didn’t ask for any specific payment when healing the villagers, but it was precisely because of that that people voluntarily offered suitable ‘gifts.’

There was absolutely no harm in befriending the only person capable of healing oneself, one’s family, or one’s lover should they ever be injured or fall ill.

The respect and goodwill directed towards her mother extended undiminished to Blanca, her daughter. And Blanca, too, vaguely sensed this fact.

Blanca loved her mother, and her mother loved Blanca.

Their peaceful, happy life seemed destined to continue forever.

But that happiness was brazenly stolen.

An overly thick and poisonous purple mist.

Terrifying screams echoing from within the mist.

The hunter who would jovially hand Blanca berries, now wandered the road with a viscous liquid streaming from his half-shattered head.

The third son of the village chief, who always boasted about leaving this backwater to become an adventurer, now gnawed at his brother’s neck, making beastly noises.

The dead attacked the living, and the victims who perished became perpetrators, slaughtering others in turn.

Pandemonium reigned in the village.

Blanca’s mother became the focal point.

The flames she usually used to bake pies for Blanca now incinerated the undead into ash, and the villagers clung to her, desperately fighting to survive.

Finally, when all the corpses were cleared away, hope flickered on the faces of the people.

As if waiting for that moment, *it* appeared.

“An unexpected boon. I only intended to replenish my cannon fodder, yet I find a new heart’s ingredient in this backwater village.”

A skull of ashen gray. Where eyes should have been, it housed twin will-o’-the-wisps of blue. The lich spoke with an almost giddy tone, as if he’d found a stray coin while strolling along the road.

Blanca, Blanca’s mother, the villagers, none could argue with the lich.

With a simple flick of his hand, the horde of undead they had slain rose again.

Seeing the fruits of their desperate struggle so carelessly undone, the villagers, to a one, wore expressions of utter despair.

Only one remained resolute, trembling though she was: Blanca’s mother.

The lich, gazing at her, spoke in a voice almost affectionate, as if struck by a delightful jest.

“It would be simple to kill you all, to claim your blood and souls… but I am in a particularly generous mood. Therefore, I shall grant you a mercy.”

“If you offer your own soul willingly. I will not lay a hand on those who remain.”

The offer, disguised as mercy, was in truth a potent poison laced with cruel malice.

In magic, volition is paramount.

A contract forced by external power cannot compare in strength or permanence to one willingly made.

Far better to be slain and have one’s soul seized. To offer it oneself? That binding would be heavier and more constricting than any prison.

Eternally enslaved to the lich.

Young Blanca, she didn’t possess such knowledge of a mage.

But seeing the Lich’s eyes, gleaming with a dark geometry, she knew, instinctively, that it mustn’t be left unchecked.

Hidden inside the house with the other children, Blanca ran to her mother.

Clutching at her mother’s legs, she begged her not to go, that it shouldn’t be. She clung to her, weeping.

Whenever she recalled that moment later, Blanca loathed her younger self enough to wish her dead.

What was she hoping to achieve by pestering her mother? To reveal her mother’s weakness to the Lich herself? What kind of idiotic, foolish act was that?

If she truly wished to help her mother, she shouldn’t have gone to her side then.

She should have fled in the opposite direction, instead. If she had eased her mother’s burden, even a little, perhaps she wouldn’t have made that choice.

Her mother, soothing her wailing daughter, handed Blanca the staff she held.

“I’m sorry, my little one. If I’d known this would happen, I would have taught you sooner, and more.”

“Eat well, don’t speak carelessly, and practice your magic diligently.”

“I love you, Blanca.”

That was the last Blanca remembered of her mother.

With a warm light seeping from her mother’s hand, the girl fell into slumber, and by the time she awoke, it was all over.

Awakened, Blanca pleaded with the surviving villagers.

“We must save Mother. Please, help me.”

The adults, who usually doted on Blanca, not a single one responded to her pleas.

No, rather, they tried to stop her by any means possible, fearful that Blanca might do something rash and anger the Lich.

Disheartened, Blanca appealed to the lord who ruled over the territory in which the village resided.

“A wicked Lich has invaded the village. He must still be somewhere in this territory, so please, vanquish him.”

The Lord wouldn’t even grant her an audience.

The soldiers, sworn to protect Youngmin, instead, realizing the staff and sword Blanca possessed were valuable, tried to confiscate them under the pretense of inspection.

Escaping the soldiers by whatever means necessary, Blanca returned to the village and sold everything except the staff and sword her mother had left her.

And, with the money she made, she went to the Adventurer’s Guild.

“I wish to commission the Guild. Please, defeat the Lich.”

The clerk, who would later become the Eastern Branch’s manager, accepted the request readily, though he watched Blanca, who offered a pouch brimming with coins, with a complicated expression.

However, even if the Guild accepted the commission, it meant nothing if no adventurer would take it on.

The skilled knew how dangerous a Lich truly was and wouldn’t accept the request, and the fools blinded by coin couldn’t even defeat a single undead under the Lich’s control before fleeing.

After that happened about three times, and the Lich subjugation request became an unwanted burden that no one would even glance at, Blanca finally admitted it.

Unless she herself stepped forward, there was no one, anywhere, who would save her mother.

And so, Blanca became an adventurer.

Many adventurers desired a skilled mage as a companion, and Blanca possessed the staff inherited from her mother.

Even though her innate magical power wasn’t particularly strong, with the staff’s power, Blanca could use powerful magic easily enough.

She raised her rank as an adventurer with surprising smoothness and came to know skilled comrades.

If things continued like this, if she just climbed a little higher…

Then she could truly defeat that cursed Lich and free her mother.

It was precisely when she held that thought that another misfortune arrived.

Crack.

As she was about to use the most powerful spell she knew against a giant Orc, an ominous cracking sound echoed from the staff in her hand.

The magic went out of control, and the intense flames surged not towards the targeted Orc, but towards the hunting grounds of some noble, igniting a fire.

The orc itself, her remaining comrades somehow managed to fell. But in the aftermath, Blanca’s journey spiraled ever downwards.

The noble whose hunting grounds had been ravaged by flame demanded exorbitant reparations, and the debt fell squarely upon Blanca’s shoulders.

Had Blanca been at her full strength, opportunity to repay it might have presented itself before long. Yet, robbed of her staff, Blanca’s magic was but a pale shadow of what it once was.

Unlike herself, limited to the chill of ice magic, Karina, who had harbored a secret, simmering envy for Blanca’s mastery of fire, healing, even enhancement magics, seized what she saw as her chance. A new healing mage was recruited, and before long, Blanca found herself expelled from the party.

Blanca offered no protest.

She, too, was shaken to realize that the skill she had believed to have painstakingly cultivated was nothing more than a bubble, still clinging to the patronage of her mother.

She tried, desperately, to rise again within a new party, but even that proved elusive.

She lacked the ability to comfortably associate with third-rate adventurers. Second-rate adventurers, on the other hand, viewed Blanca, fallen from a higher perch, with thinly veiled contempt and spite.

Those adventurers who were too grounded in reality to be swayed by mere jealousy or base schadenfreude recognized the usefulness of Blanca’s abilities, and sought to team up with her. But, it was precisely their pragmatism that led them to sever ties once they learned of her impossible ambition: the subjugation of a Lich.

Her circumstances grew steadily worse, and when she could no longer even afford the interest on her debt, she accepted work as a receptionist.

It was then that Blanca found him.

Someone who, she believed, possessed the madness and skill necessary to humor her impossible goal.

*

“That was you, Vern.”

Having spun a tale longer than Vern had anticipated, Blanca slumped, her shoulders bearing a weariness that seemed to weigh her down.

“Possessing exceptional potential, and naive enough to utter the words ‘I dream of being an adventurer.’ I thought that if I burdened such a rookie, acting as a mentor… it would help me to achieve my goals in many ways. Or, rather, I did think so.”

Vern tilted his head, a flicker of perplexity in his eyes.

“You no longer feel that way? I don’t believe I’ve shown any particular shortcomings.”

Blanca released a heavy sigh, then changed the subject.

“On that goblin extermination mission, I was nothing more than an accessory to your success. Even without the goblin-repelling herbs, even without the need for fire magic, you would have somehow accomplished the mission.”

Reviewing the commission, the realization struck her anew, and though disheartened, she refused to succumb to despair.

This was merely the first request. Next time, she’d do better.

She possessed a history, experience as an adventurer; surely leveraging that would prove useful somehow. That’s what she’d thought.

However, what transpired now revealed to Blanca how utterly naive even those expectations had been.

“My old companions, they were… let’s just say their personalities were a bit sharp, but their skills were undeniable. It wasn’t for nothing that the entire party was on the cusp of rising to Rank 4. But you, you subdued them alone, without so much as a scratch, completely.”

If an individual could single-handedly overwhelm a near-Rank 4 party, what Rank would that individual be?

Even optimistically, somewhere between mid- to high-Rank 4, potentially even approaching Rank 5.

And that implied that, at this very moment, Bern was already a powerhouse near the pinnacle of the Adventurer’s Guild.

To such a being, did talk of ‘newbie’ versus ‘veteran’ even matter?

To such an opponent, did the accumulation of ‘tricks of the trade’ that Blanca had painstakingly acquired hold any value?

Bern had requested her knowledge and experience as an adventurer, but in Blanca’s estimation, even that, by itself, was nowhere near enough to balance the scales with the power Bern possessed.

If there was one thing Blanca had learned wandering the world after losing her mother, it was that a relationship where one side gave unconditionally never ended well.

Right now, Bern seemed well-disposed toward Blanca.

But, what were the chances of that goodwill continuing indefinitely?

For him to perceive her as easily replaceable was the worst possible trajectory for her.

Therefore, to prevent that…

*Shluk*.

The coat Blanca wore slipped from her shoulders.

Drawing close enough that they could sense each other’s scent, Blanca spoke to Bern.

“To impart your knowledge as an adventurer. To not inquire about the secrets you hold. That was all you asked before… Is it still so? Still, do you desire nothing else from me? Anything. Tell me anything, and I shall do it.”