I Became the Youngest Prince in the Novel
Chapter 3

Purging the Weeds II

“Your Highness!”

Had all the knights in the palace just turned out? There seemed to be at least ten of them. A middle-aged one, who seemed to be the oldest among them, walked toward Sion and shouted at him.

This was Wulfent Bier, who was in charge of guarding the Sunken Star Palace. His face was contorted with confusion and rage.

“How in the world did you kill Aleck—I mean, why did you kill him?”

When one of the other knights had first made the report, Wulfent hadn’t believed it. Sion Agnes, the master of this palace, had been born with an incredibly frail constitution. As such, he hadn’t ever been able to train his body, much less learn the Celestial Tide—the power that ran through the bloodline of the imperial family.

That same prince had just lopped off the head of a knight who was basically a killing machine, and with his bare hands, no less. That had been difficult to believe. However, he’d found the head of Aleck, the knight who’d guarded the gate, rolling about on the ground.

Wulfrent still couldn’t believe that Prince Sion had been wholly responsible for it, but he knew for certain that the prince had something to do with the death, at the very least.

“He committed so many sins. It would have been strange not to kill him,” Sion offered simply.

Something had changed.

Prince Sion had seldom been able to even respond to Wulfent’s questions. But now, he was not only talking to him, but he was making eye contact.

There was leisure and tedium in those eyes, and it gave Wulfent a powerful sense that something was amiss.

What in the world?

“And the same goes for you all,” Sion said, slowly walking toward the knights. “If you’ve committed four crimes, all deserving of the death penalty, then I suppose I would be remiss not to kill you on the spot.”

He gave off no energy or power. He was simply walking forward, but Wulfent felt a sense of unease.

He knows we were involved in last night’s attack.

In truth, it would have been odd if the prince hadn’t caught on. Wulfent had assumed that his knowing would change nothing, but apparently, he’d been wrong.

The prince was holding them accountable and was about to kill them for it.

Wulfent stared at Sion for a moment, then spoke in a glum voice, his gaze uncertain.

“Kill...the prince immediately,” he commanded.

His superiors had wanted to kill the prince anyway. Trying again would not be a problem. It was simply that Wulfrent hadn’t liked the idea of knights in the palace directly attacking a prince.

This, however, was much preferable to being killed.

The imperial castle would not react to the death of a single banished prince. Even if it did, the people they served would cover up their crime.

A few of the knights behind Wulfent seemed to agree with him—they drew their swords.

“Your Highness!” Fredo called urgently, but Sion was smiling at the knights, almost as if he’d been waiting for this moment.

This is entertaining.

Oh, so entertaining.

How long has it been since someone actually drew a sword with the intent to kill me?

Ever since Sion had conquered the world, the only thing he’d seen on a daily basis were the tops of people’s heads as they prostrated themselves before him.

As such, Sion found this situation delightful.

“Let’s add one more crime to the list,” he said softly. “Attempted murder of a member of the imperial family.”

Sion’s figure seemed to melt into the darkness rippling around him...only to reappear in front of one of the knights who had drawn his sword.

“What?!”

Had the knight not expected the prince to initiate? Or perhaps he hadn’t believed for a second that a prince who lacked even a single day of combat training could move so quickly.

The knight raised his sword. A confused grunt escaped him, but it was already too late. Sion’s hand had already plunged through his chest.

As the knight stared at his gaping wound, uncomprehending, the light went out of his eyes.

By the time the knight’s corpse slumped to the floor, Sion was already gone.

Sion knew that this body—coupled with his Dark Celestial Essence, which hadn’t even reached its first tier of mastery—wouldn’t allow him to fight the knights head-on. That meant he needed to secure a victory before the knights could make sense of his capabilities and the current situation.

Sion moved through the darkness again.

He reappeared in front of the knight closest to the one he’d just killed, shooting forward a hand enveloped in undulating darkness.

This man was still a trained imperial knight, so he reacted to the movement and swung his blade.

Upon contact, the sword would split Sion’s hand in two.

At that moment, Sion’s hand suddenly slid along the blade with a ghostly movement and reached under the sword’s hilt. There was a light thud and the sword flew into the air.

Sion had just deflected a sword with his bare hand—a technique said to be unachievable without immeasurable experience in battle.

The knight, upon realizing that he’d been disarmed, immediately took a step back. But Sion was faster. His leg flew forward as if anticipating the knight’s movement, and he stomped, crushing the knight’s foot.

“Augh!”

The knight tottered, unable to move away.

Sion’s knee shot up from the opposite direction as the knight jerked forward, crushing the knight’s armor and pulverizing every rib.

There was a resounding crash.

The man shrieked from the incredible pain, but it was short-lived—Sion swung his hand and cut off his head mid scream.

“Damn it!”

The other knights seemed to recover from their shock. A nearby knight with a full beard stabbed his sword at Sion from behind.

Sion simply turned his head aside without even looking, evading the attack. Had the darkness whispered a hint to him, perhaps? He then grabbed the blade hanging beside his head and pulled it toward him.

“Huh? What?”

The knight was dragged along with it, completely powerless against the strength of this prince, who was supposed to be delicate and feeble.

Sion’s elbow thrust into the man’s solar plexus.

As the man’s head tucked forward from the impact, Sion used his knee to crush it.

All of these things happened in the space of a few seconds.

“What...”

Wulfent was staring in awe. Was this truly the Prince Sion he had always known? As far as Wulfent knew, Prince Sion had no knowledge of anything even remotely related to martial arts. In fact, his body was so unsound, he could never learn any.

What was more, he was afraid of blood and battle, so he wouldn’t have been able to make use of the knowledge, even if he’d somehow acquired it.

But now...

The sound of squelching bone and flesh filled the air, and every time Prince Sion appeared and reappeared, he left behind a dead knight.

How in the world did he gain access to such a power?

It was like the prince had become a completely different person.

The subtle smile on the prince’s face as he massacred the knights only reaffirmed the notion in Wulfent’s mind.

At this rate...

Wulfent’s eyes traveled to the knights who weren’t taking part in the battle—they were looking on, awestruck, at the carnage. These were knights who served no agenda, ones who were simply there to guard the palace.

Wulfrent had been intending to end things before the others figured out what was going on—before they stopped him and his faction—but the situation had not gone as planned. In fact, his men were at risk of being wiped out completely.

I’ll kill him with a single blow before that happens.

Wulfent lunged toward Sion at incredible speed. A pure-white, piercing coating of mana covered the knight’s sword. He was upon Sion in moments and swung his blade without hesitation. It was an all-out attack, showing his determination to end the prince’s life at any cost.

Sion, suddenly aware of the sword traveling toward him, threw aside a knight whose neck had been snapped. He reached out his hand toward Wulfent.

“Idiot!”

A mocking smile appeared on Wulfent’s lips.

Prince Sion had blocked every blade with his bare hands so far, but that was only possible with ordinary swords. Wulfent’s sword was covered with a sheer coating of condensed mana, and it would cleave the prince’s hand for certain.

And I’ll cut your neck too.

Wulfent’s sword picked up even more speed,

and the moment it touched Sion’s hand,

he saw darkness surge forth from the prince’s palm.

Wulfrent watched in shock as the mana on his blade

vanished without a trace.

Sion’s hand, having obliterated the mana blade,

instantly sank into Wulfent’s chest

and pierced his heart.

“How...” the knight muttered hollowly.

The last thing he saw before he gave up the ghost was the amused grin on Prince Sion’s face and the dark stars that seemed to glow inside his eyes.

Sion gazed down at Wulfent’s body for a moment after it hit the ground, then flexed his hands.

Is this my limit? His fingertips were trembling. The damnably weak body was screaming in protest from such a light workout.

Some training is in order—urgent training.

Sion looked around and noticed the eyes glued to him. The knights and most of the attendants working in the palace had gathered here in front of the gate.

None of them seemed capable of comprehending what was going on.

One of the nearby knights had been spared—he hadn’t taken part in last night’s attack and was therefore completely ignorant. This man turned to Sion with a question.

“Your Highness...could you explain why you did such a thing?”

Sion’s quiet eyes traveled over to him.

“Who is your master?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I don’t ask twice,” Sion said in a voice that was as quiet as it was indolent.

“That would be...you, Your Highness,” the knight replied, seemingly mesmerized.

“A master does not explain himself to his servants.”

This had always been Sion’s way. He explained his actions to no one and did not attempt to make anyone understand him.

“Explanations and elucidation—they are things that you should offer me, not the other way around.”

Those things were required of the men looking at him now.

“They sinned, and they were accordingly punished.”

The knight, who’d been staring back with uncertainty, slowly let his head fall. “Understood...”

Though he said that, he didn’t truly understand the current situation or know what was required of him. But in front of him, he felt the aura of a conqueror—something that he’d never felt from Prince Sion before. And it made him bow his head.

Sion gazed at him for a moment, then glanced at the many people who were looking at him with a myriad of emotions showing in their eyes. Not yet, he thought, locking gazes with a few of them.

After a moment, he addressed them all.

“Those who leak information from the palace to outsiders will henceforth be executed.”

Perhaps these words functioned as some sort of signal.

“Your will is our command.”

The knights and attendants of the palace, overwhelmed by Sion’s presence, responded and bowed their heads.

Sion passed through them and walked toward the palace as if it was his due.

This is just the first step. No—in fact, I’ve only taken one foot off the ground.

As Sion strode into the palace, his eyes gazed upon a more distant prize.