There were eleven cadets surrounding me, but surprisingly, none were puppets.
Well, maybe itâs not that surprising.
The last thing a puppet needed was to be seriously damaged.
People wouldnât normally bother to check whether someone was breathing properly, but anyone would be suspicious if someoneâs broken skin fell off like shards of porcelain.
I wondered if certain commands were integrated into the puppetsâ instincts. For example: avoid situations where they might get hurt at any cost.
Crash!
The moment Talis went down, two cadets lunged at me simultaneously from both sides.
I kicked up the table hard.
As the food on the table shot into the air, I snatched the empty beer mugs and smashed them over the charging cadetsâ heads.
With the sound of glass breaking, the two cadets collapsed on the spot.
And thatâs me being nice, I thought. If I had struck them in the face instead of the head, no doubt the glass shards would have shredded their faces.
âYou bastard!â
A particularly bulky guy reached out toward me. He was quick for his size, but that was it.
I grabbed his outstretched hand and threw him toward an old rickety table nearby.
Crash!
He was such a big guy that he landed on two tables and broke them both. I wasnât bothered by the excess destruction, thoughâtheyâd been the ones to start this fight.
Cleaning up these nobodies was a bit of a hassle, but it wasnât particularly difficult.
After eight or nine of these greenhorn cadets had hit the ground...
I heard the chilling sound of steel ring out as one of the guys in the back drew his sword.
Shiiing!
âNo! No weapons!â Glenn shouted, sounding slightly panicked, but the cadet was already too far gone. His eyes were rolled partway back in madness.
As if he had completely lost it, he let out a feral scream and thrust forward with his sword.
Shooting the idiot a look of disapproval, I focused my inner energy to my finger and flicked it.
Clang...!
The cadet dropped his sword as vibrating pain shot from his sword through his wrist. In the brief moment he was reeling, I hit his face with my hand.
Not with my palm or my fist but with the back of my hand.
Smack!
The sound alone made clear that it equaled a punch, and I was sure the pain matched. Like the big oaf earlier, this one went flying, and just as dramatically. ð«ð¶
A deep, heavy voice cut through the commotion. â...I heard the Bednicker familyâs youngest was just a little kid. Was the Lord of Blood and Iron deceiving everyone?â
It was the owner of the tavern.
Even as Iâd been dealing with the incompetent greenhorns, my attention had never left him.
It wasnât just his ageâthe air around him was beyond that of these average cadets.
âYou donât seem like the kind of guy who should be running a tavern,â I said.
The man snorted, then charged at me. The mana in his fist was obvious and potent.
His refined energy was undeniable. It was even visible to the naked eye.
A smile made its way onto my face. Not bad.
I focused my inner energy and raised my fist as well.
BOOM!
Our fists collided in midair.
â...!â
Unlike swords, it was rare for fists to collide in the air.
If it wasnât coordinated, it meant one of the fighters was able to hit the mark with perfect precision, which was impossible without exceptional perception.
âAre you underestimating me?â he growled out.
As expected, he had the skill to realize this much. He charged me with renewed aggression.
I easily dodged his attack, but my mind was racing.
He had plenty of combat experience, there was no doubt of that.
In an empire where bare-handed martial arts were looked down upon, it was rare to find someone this skilled.
As I continued to fight, I couldn't help but consider the possibilities.
His relatively young age...
His face and demeanor, unbecoming of a tavern owner...
The subtlety with which he had concealed his internal ki pathways up until now...
And finally, his mastery in unarmed combat.
Swords were great weapons, but their biggest disadvantage was that they inevitably made enemies vigilant.
That was why those who specialized in infiltration or covert operations were trained to either hide their weapons or hone their unarmed skills.
Thinking back to what Iâd learned about Barter, I took a guess. âSpecial Forces?â I asked, and immediately, I saw his breath hitch slightly.
â...!â
How boring.
Iâd wanted to keep fighting for a bit longer, but I couldnât pretend to ignore such an obvious opening.
I immediately reached out and grabbed him by the collar. He instinctively grabbed my wrist, but then he stiffened.
Heâd realized the difference in skill level.
Wham!
As I yanked him by the collar toward me, I threw a punch at his stomach. I then threw the man high up into the air, into the kitchen.
There was a crash, and then silence descended upon the restaurant.
I turned to Glenn.
I wanted to see his reaction, but his large hat and the wide glasses that reached down to his cheeks made it hard to read his expression.
âYou...â The man who had been thrown into the kitchen groaned as he rose to his feet. His eyes narrowed, glaring at me as he said, âIf you lay a finger on him...â
âJust shut your mouth and bring me more tomato beer.â
The owner looked dumbfounded. âWhat...?â
âI only got to drink half a glass before you all ran at me like headless chickens. I didnât even get to touch the food, so now Iâm hungry.â
â...â
Glenn, who had been silent, ordered, âMarco, do as Luan says.â
â...Understood.â
The guyâMarcoânodded and disappeared into the kitchen, but I still felt his watchful gaze on me.
In the meantime, being the kind person I was, I picked up the overturned table and quickly swept off the remnants of the fight.
âYour Highness... please, r-run away...â I heard Talis say.
âSo you were his loyal follower, not an asshole. Then, what happened in the classroom,â I said to Glenn, âyou ordered that, didnât you?â
Glenn looked at me for a moment before saying, âTalis, leave us.â
âYes?â
âQuick.â
â...U-understood.â
Slowly, Talis and the other cadets struggled to their feet and left the tavern.
A few of the more injured ones had to be practically dragged out by others like defeated soldiers.
It makes sense, I thought. No matter how few brain cells a noble child had, they wouldnât have the guts to act like an ass in front of imperial blood.
Especially an authoritarian like Talis. People like him would always shrink in front of stronger figures.
* * * * *
* * * * *
âCan I offer you a piece of advice?â Glenn said.
âWhat?â
âEven if you leave me half-dead right here, it wonât be a problem.â
I quietly stared at him, wondering what nonsense he was going to spout next, but Glenn's face grew serious.
âIâm just saying that if you arenât laying a hand on me because youâre afraid of the imperial family, you donât need to be.â
â...â
I wasnât sure if he was spouting all this nonsense because heâd drank too much, but I really had no intention of beating up Glenn.
Not because I didnât believe him but simply because it wasn't something Iâd ever planned to do.
I continued to stare at him wordlessly, and eventually he shut up. However, I could see his chin trembling ever so slightly.
âDo you like getting hit?â
His eyes widened. âN-no! Is that even a question?â
I shrugged. I just wanted to be sure. âThen why say such a thing?â I asked.
â...â
Glenn didnât look like he was going to answer any time soon, so I continued, âYou did a background check on me, gathered your whole gang to bury me six feet, and yet you canât even answer something so simple?â
â...â
âCome on, you can tell me. I may look like this, but Iâm actually pretty good when it comes to giving friends advice...â
At my words, Glenn burst out laughing.
It was the kind of laugh youâd give after hearing a terrible joke.
âAs you said, I did some digging and found out about your reputation. They call you the only imperfection to the Lord of Blood and Ironâs name, the disgrace of House Bednicker, a worthless piece of trash who earned no blessings.â
âDonât forget that I even sold the familyâs prized sword,â I added casually.
â...If I were to get beaten to a pulp by someone like you, no one would ever think of me as a member of the imperial family, and my royal authority would be at an all-time low.â
âMhm.â
âI told you before that I had hundreds of siblings, right?â
âThat you did.â
âBut there are fewer than ten of us officially called âprinceâ and âprincess.â So what do you think happened to the rest of my siblings?â
âYour Highness,â a voice interfered from the kitchen, seemingly to stop Glenn from saying whatever he was about to say.
Glenn forced a smile and continued anyway. âMost of them are dead or gone, and those that are gone... I donât even know whether they are alive or dead.â
â...â
âThose ten granted the name âScarlet,â through what criteria were they selected? How did a failure like me end up in the position of fourth prince?â
Glenn tapped his hat a couple of times.
"Hair color. Thatâs it. Not status, not achievements, not talentâlike grading livestock in a slaughterhouse, only the vibrancy and intensity of my hairâs color determines my score."
He burst into laughter, a booming laugh mixed with many different emotions... but none of them were joy.
âThis is the reality of The Empireâs imperial family. Rotten old bastards blinded by this shitty symbolism. A cesspool of lunatics so obsessed with a fucking color.â
At this moment, more tomato beer was served.
I glanced up to see Marco glaring at me like he wanted to kill me, so I asked, âYou didnât spit on it or anything, right?â
âI donât mess with food.â
âIâll take your word for it,â I said solemnly... and then proceeded to switch drinks with Glenn.
Judging from his lack of reaction, heâd been telling the truth.
I took a couple of sips of the uniquely flavorful tomato beer, then said, âI just realized...â
â...?â
âYou are a puppet too.â
Of course, I didnât mean that kind of puppet.
From my perspective, Glenn lived a life not so different from a puppet.
"What?"
And with that, I splashed the remaining tomato beer on Glennâs face.
âYour Highââ
Marco, startled, immediately lunged at me. Unlike his earlier moves, this punch carried deadly intent.
He was swinging to kill.
But without so much as glancing his way, I swung my hand.
Smack!n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
Marco didnât even have time to react before the back of my hand hit him in the forehead, sending him flying into the wall with a heavy thud.
I turned to Glenn, who was watching me with wide, fiery eyes.
âIf you hate the imperial family so much, if you truly canât stand the color of your hair, why donât you just shave it all off? Your sister here at the academy dyes hers, so why havenât you?â
â...Thatâs...â
âIâm not exactly happy about the Bednicker blood running through me either. Thanks to our oh-so-great family head, the expectations tied to this name are no joke... but so what?â
To be honest, I found this Glenn so pathetic that I wanted to give him a good smack in the head.
But considering his age, he still had the potential to improve, so I held back.
âSure, the hatred you carry is probably heavier than mine, not to mention that the authority of the imperial family is far greater than Bednickerâs... but is that really such a bad thing?â
âWhat?â
âI decided to use my bloodline to my advantage. There are plenty of people who grovel at the mere mention of the Bednicker name. At the very least, it helps weed out those pathetic people who are too intimidated by reputation. And letâs face it, being from a prominent family means I can always borrow some money or call in a favor when needed. But what really matters is...â I locked eyes with Glenn as I continued, â...that I donât take pride in this name. To me, Bednicker isnât a stigma, itâs a tool. But look at yourself.â
I clicked my tongue and crossed my arms as I scanned the prince drenched in tomato beer.
âYou hate the imperial family so much that you hide your hair under a hat? You canât stand being called a prince or treated like one? Grow the fuck up, will you?â
I saw Glenn clenching his fists, but I didnât stop.
âDo you even remember what you told me when I spoke formally to you for the first time?â
â...â
âYou told me not to. Thatâs your nature. The moment your emotions run even a little high, you stop asking and start commanding. Just like you did with those idiots who left the shop earlier, or the guy passed out over there.â
I pointed with my chin to where Marco lay motionless on the ground.
âAnd yet you go on complaining about how much you hate the imperial bloodline, the cult being evil, blah blah... Fucking hell. I thought there was more to your tantrums, but youâre just a pathetic teenager going through puberty, arenât you?â
âWhat do you know...!â
To me, Glennâs words sounded more like âIâve got nothing left to say.â
I shoved my hands in my pockets, stood up, and said, âYouâre buying, right? The food and drink were fine, but the atmosphere? I give it a fucking zero out of ten. Iâm out of here.â
âWait, sââ
His half-opened mouth shut abruptly.
From the look on his face, it seemed like heâd been about to order me to âStop!â or âSit down!â
I snorted and shot him a sneer before walking out of the tavern.
I could feel Glennâs gaze burning a hole in my back, but honestly, what the hell could he do?
Sure, I had given him something close to a lecture, but...
This hadnât all been for nothing.
At least one thing had become clear.
Glenn Scarlet was not a cultist.
***
After returning to the Amber Hall, I went around finding the members of the young heroes one by one to share the current situation.
T/N: From now on, the Archmage of Red will be called the Archmage of Crimson, and the Archmage of Yellow will be called the Archmage of Amber. As a result, this will also change the names of the halls to match their corresponding archmages (e.g., Yellow Hall will become Amber Hall).
The classes were so spread out that by the time I found them all, the sun had already set.
I led the group of young heroes back to the hideout.
Inside, many female young heroes, including Sellen, were already present.
They must have already used the kitchen because there were several loaves of bread on the table alongside roasted meat, sausages, and stew.
I picked up a sausage with my hand and asked, âHowâd it go?â
âOut of a hundred and two members, twenty-one were puppets. There might be some margin of error, but if this ratio applies to all the students within the academy, weâre looking at about two hundred student puppets.â
â...â
A heavy silence descended upon the room.
It was Sharyl who suddenly spoke up, her voice fearful: â...What you're saying is hard to believe, but Iâve also seen some cadets who donât breathe. Denying it would just be running away from reality.â
From her tone, it seemed like she had accepted the situation. I liked that she didnât throw a fit and instead calmly accepted reality.
But of course, not everyone responded that way.
Karis couldnât accept it. âI-isnât this some kind of event? It doesnât make sense. This is the Kartell Academy... Isnât this supposed to be one of the safest places after the imperial house?â
Pam seemed terrified. âSh-shouldnât we ask for help? If we call for the Imperial Guard Unit or active heroes from Heroes...â
"In case youâve forgotten, this is an island,â I said, âand while the river isnât that wide, thereâs only one bridge across it. Iâm sure the headmaster has it under tight surveillance.â
âWhat if we use a magic item...?â
âSomething like a communication crystal? I donât know... I doubt a great archmage failed to consider that.â
â...â
I looked at Pam, who seemed to be shriveling up more and more with each passing second. I clapped to get her attention.
âGet a grip,â I told her. âWe learned this at the training camp. The cult can attack anytime, anywhere. Sure, itâs insane that this is happening at Kartell Academy, but... isnât this why we participated in the training camp? To learn how to deal with unexpected situations like this?â
The young heroes around me started giving small nods in agreement.
Still, a couple of faces simply didnât seem to care, which pissed me off.
I decided to give them a firm reality check.
âTo be exact, weâre still in the experimental stage. There are several ways to detect puppets... but it wonât always be like this.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âWhat do you think will happen when they create breathing puppets or puppets with real blood and veins under their skin?â
"What will happen?â Karis asked.
I shot a disappointed look at Karis before continuing nonchalantly, âNo one will be able to figure out if someone is or is not a puppet. And once those puppets graduate from the academy, it will be even worse. Iâm stating the obvious, but all the students here are verified talents. Most of the students here are outstanding, right? Itâll take them just a few months to rise to important positions within The Empire. Just think about it, the imperial guards, heroes, the heirs of noble familiesâwhat if they all become the demon lordâs servants?â
â...â
"We will be in a shitload of trouble then. The Empireâs largest educational institution will be turned into a place that just produces cultists.â
The faces of the young heroes stiffened.
It was not that I wasnât a skeptic.
If things continued like this, my prediction would come true. We would end up in an all-out war with the cult within ten years.
The rising Church of Darkness and the crumbling empire...
Realization came crashing down on me. The beginning of the end of the Nameless Empire might have been initiated by the puppets created at this very academy.
____