Chapter 96
Ian Hart Lou Belnerum.
He was the eldest son of Emperor Joachim Lou Belnerum of the Erkal Empire and Empress Jereisha Belnerum, and the Crown Prince.
With platinum-blonde hair that seemed as if every strand was carefully spun from pure sunlight, and eyes so vividly red they felt intimidating to look upon, people unanimously called him the reincarnation of the First Emperor.
What’s more, Ian Hart had inherited even the legendary talent of the First Emperor, who was hailed as the strongest in the continent’s history.
At just eleven years old, he manifested a clear aura, a feat unparalleled not only among his contemporaries but in the Empire’s history.
On top of that, his intellect was outstanding as well. Ian Hart was skilled in both academics and martial arts, a truly perfect crown prince.
The current emperor was immensely pleased and proud of his son.
“Your Highness the Crown Prince, a letter has arrived from His Majesty.”
“Such things could be passed along by a servant.”
Normally, the imperial knight would have briskly handed the letter to a servant, but today he hesitated.
Noticing this, Ian Hart stopped his practice swings and looked at him with an indifferent expression.
That chilling, inorganic gaze made the knight flinch, and with an awkward glance aside, he revealed the true reason for his hesitation.
“Even on the battlefield, His Majesty worries that Your Highness’s sword may grow dull.”
At those words, faint annoyance flickered across Ian Hart’s eyes.
Put simply, this meant the emperor wanted to test his swordsmanship.
It wasn’t surprising.
The emperor had always shown excessive interest in Ian Hart, who was the perfect blend of himself and the empress, and he expressed this interest in ways that were rarely pleasant.
Sometimes he sent people to spy on Ian Hart’s progress, sometimes he dragged him into his chambers in place of the empress who shut herself away, and at other times, like now, he sent knights directly to test him.
This moment was clearly a summons to duel against the knight before him, to prove his skills.
If he was at war, shouldn’t he just focus on the war?
But Ian Hart couldn’t refuse.
He may have been the Crown Prince, but the one giving orders was the Emperor.
“…And you are?”
Ian Hart sighed and asked.
The knight, standing awkwardly, answered.
“Jason Muntz, Vice-Captain of the 2nd Imperial Knight Order.”
Vice-Captain of the 2nd Order.
For most knights, it was a coveted position. But to Ian Hart, it was just another examiner his father had sent—an annoying nuisance.
Last time it had been the Captain of the 3rd Order, before that, a Vice-Captain of the same order.
The caliber of knights the emperor sent to test him was steadily increasing.
“Prepare yourself.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
With their brief introduction complete, Ian Hart gestured forward.
Moments later, the knight with a long spear and Ian Hart with his sword clashed, sharp sounds splitting the air.
Whoosh—
Ian Hart easily vaulted the fortress walls guarded by sentries.
Though his body bore fresh cuts and bruises from the earlier spar, they barely hindered his movements.
Only the sound of the wind cutting and his light landing could be heard—his steps made no sound.
Clearing the final wall dividing the palace and the outside world, Ian Hart walked through the alleys with practiced ease.
After several turns, the lively Rishin Street appeared.
Located opposite the Lopel commercial district frequented by nobles and the wealthy, Rishin Street was the bustling hub for commoners and tradesmen.
The street bustled with loud hawking, bargaining matches, and those out for an early dinner.
That lively noise filled the wide road with vibrance.
Ian Hart walked naturally through the crowd, heading for his destination.
He stopped at a small shop at the edge of the street.
Ding—
“Welcome!”
As the door opened, a cheerful voice, the clear chime of a bell, and a faint bitter herbal scent greeted him.
Ian Hart circled the shop, his hands confidently selecting bundles of herbs without hesitation.
Though the store wasn’t large, the shelves were packed with herbs, filling three entire rows. By the time he placed everything on the counter, the bundles numbered over twenty.
All of them were antidotal herbs that could be combined together.
“Um… are you buying all of this?”
Startled by the sheer amount, the clerk asked. Ian Hart only gave a curt nod.
Fortunately, the clerk quickly recovered and began counting and recording.
“That’ll be 1 gold and 45 silver. I’ll pack them for you, and here’s a note with storage instructions as well.”
Without a word, Ian Hart paid.
After confirming the exact amount, the clerk carefully wrapped the herbs and placed them into a large paper bag before handing it over.
“Thank you! Please come again!”
Ding—
Just like when he entered, the high-pitched voice and chime saw him off.
“Now that I think about it, someone else bought this much without saying a word a few months ago… Ah! Welcome!”
Left behind, the clerk tilted his head at the déjà vu, but soon forgot it as the next customer arrived.
Leaving the shop, Ian Hart slipped the bulky bag into his subspace pouch away from prying eyes.
Then he left the crowded center and entered a quieter alley.
His mood wasn’t great today, so he decided to take a different route home.
That was when it happened.
“Young man, handsome fellow, how about buying an apple?”
An old man in ragged clothes called to him cautiously.
In front of the old man was a worn basket filled with bright red apples.
Ian Hart looked a bit too young to be called a “young man,” but his tall, balanced figure made him seem older than his boyish face suggested.
Step—
His hair was dyed a plain color, his clothes simple, yet he didn’t ignore the old man’s call.
Had he worn finer clothes, the call wouldn’t have come. But Ian Hart always dressed to blend into his surroundings.
Most people, however, rarely approached him regardless—his cold face and aura couldn’t be hidden by clothes.
But the old man’s cloudy gaze suggested his eyesight was poor.
As Ian Hart approached, the old man lifted his gaze, looking faintly surprised.
“Oh, come to buy some apples?”
“You were the one who called me, weren’t you?”
“…Ah, yes, I did.”
The old man chuckled weakly at his own forgetfulness.
“So then, how many apples does this handsome young man need?”
Ian Hart glanced at the basket.
Though misshapen, the apples were large, red, and polished until they gleamed.
Not just one or two—the entire basket had clearly been washed and polished carefully.
Yet by this late afternoon, with the basket still full, the old man likely hadn’t sold many.
“…Wouldn’t it be better to sell closer to the center of the street?”
Ian Hart asked impulsively.
The old man blinked his cloudy eyes and laughed softly, as if hearing something amusing.
And with a calm face, he answered.
“There are things in this world you know but still can’t do. Life isn’t a dream where everything goes your way.”
It was true.
Even a small stall in central Rishin Street required immense competition and maneuvering.
For an old man with poor eyesight, winning such a spot would be near impossible.
Ian Hart remained silent for a moment, then said something else.
“I’ll buy all the apples in the basket.”
The old man blinked rapidly at the word all.
When Ian Hart didn’t retract his statement, the old man asked in disbelief.
“You really mean all of them?”
“I don’t speak empty words.”
“…If you’re only doing this out of pity for an old man, don’t waste your money. Just having someone to chat with is enough.”
The old man spoke cautiously.
But Ian Hart wasn’t about to take back his decision.
For the old man’s sake, he at least offered an excuse.
“I’m buying them because I like apples. There’s no reason I’d pity you.”
In the end, Ian Hart paid a fair price for the apples, even adding the cost of the basket, and carried it in one hand.
“…Well…”
“I’ll be going now.”
“…Thank you, young man.”
Ian Hart didn’t bother replying to the thanks, simply walking away.
One figure left without hesitation, long strides carrying him quickly.
The other turned slowly, steps halting and sluggish.
And when both had gone, only a few green leaves, still clinging to apple stems, remained in their place.
