Crown Prince Sells Medicine

Chapter 122

This individual, the highly regarded military officer, must be out of his mind.

The spy was becoming increasingly apprehensive. Nonetheless, Raciels impulsiveness seemed boundless.

Hey, lets really think about this, shall we? Youre the one who extended an offer to me, suggesting that I switch sides. This isnt a matter to be taken lightly, correct?

Well, thats true, but

But consider this: its also an immensely weighty decision for me, isnt it? Id have to betray the side Ive aligned with thus far and join your ranks. That entails significant risks for me. It could fundamentally alter my life, wouldnt you agree?

Of course, yes, thats correct.

Exactly.

Indeed.

So why arent the terms clearly defined?

If Im going to take the risk and make a decision, shouldnt there be well-established criteria or data indicating which choice would be most advantageous, which one would yield greater benefits, or whether it might ultimately lead to a disastrous outcome that turns my life into a nightmare?

Thats how you assess things, right? Dont you engage in comparisons when making purchases in the market?

Of course, I do.

Isnt that right? Even when buying the same type of cream bread at a bakery, you carefully observe which one is larger and make your choice accordingly. Why? To get more for the same price. But now, youre presenting an offer to me thats worse than that of a local bakery?

Thats because

Because what?

I sincerely apologize.

Does offering an apology solve everything?

No.

So whats your plan?

I willprepare.

Ugh.

The spy winced.

Raciels eyes gleamed with scrutiny.

If you do this again, just prepare without considering the consequences, will that be enough?

What should I

Be specific about what youre going to prepare. Right now.

Now? Should I say it now?

Obviously.

Fluff.

Raciel comfortably settled onto the bed, tilted his chin slightly, and fixed his gaze on the spy. His eyes seemed to convey, Go ahead, brief me.

The spy found himself caught in Raciels confident demeanor. Stumbling over his words, he began to brief as though reporting to a superior.

Um, first as you mentioned, I will prepare the exact monetary compensation youll receive upon joining the revolutionary army. The total amount will encompass the provided mansion, land, and various valuables.

The spy tried to articulate carefully and finally concluded his statement. He felt a sense of accomplishment. He believed he hadnt stuttered much and did reasonably well.

However, his self-satisfaction was shattered by the frown that crept onto Raciels forehead.

Ugh, this guy.

Listen, do I strike you as someone who can be easily swayed just by discussing money?

Of course not

Right. Exactly.

I appreciate the direct approach with money. Keep going.

I will also outline the rank, honors, and the actual treatment youll receive within the revolutionary army.

What about safety precautions?

I will, of course, take care of that as well. This includes escorts, security measures, and even servants to attend to you.

Is that all?

Huh?

Is there more?

The spy desperately racked his brain. Raciels lips curved into a knowing smirk.

Confirmation that all the conditions weve just discussed have been approved by your highest authority.

Yes.

If you present conditions without that, I wont even consider them. Do you understand?

Yes, I do.

Lets make sure of it this time, okay?

Ill keep that in mind.

Good. Now, go and get to work.

That noble officer has now become not only terrifying but also sends shivers down his spine. The spy felt his brain cells strain. He had never envisioned such a reaction, such a turn of events. However, he also believed it wasnt necessarily a bad thing.

Because hes still alive.

Because he believes he wont meet his end.

Well, then

The spy hastily withdrew from Raciels tent. A moment later, Raciel summoned two individuals. They were Gardin and Demian. As soon as the two arrived, he dropped a bombshell.

Im contemplating joining the rebels.

Gardin and Demian hesitated. They exchanged glances, silently communicated, and then nodded with meaningful understanding. They both had the same thought at that moment:

Ah, Your Highness has been under immense strain lately. Hes been working tirelessly without rest; that must explain this behavior. Its alright. Under such pressure, even the strongest may momentarily lose their composure. This is what they call burnout.

Both of them felt sympathy. A wry smile tugged at the corner of Raciels mouth.

Im not saying this due to a temporary lapse in judgment; Im absolutely serious.

Dead serious.

Dont you believe me?

Yes.

The first to respond was Demian. His piercing dark eyes locked onto Raciel with their distinctive intensity.

It still sounds like a jest, but if you genuinely mean it, I must advise against it.

Why?

Because it lacks moral justification.

Moral?

Yes.

Demian elaborated,

Your Highness was moved upon hearing news of Anbouazs civil war. You crossed over here with the noble intention of aiding Anbouaz, even tending to the wounded soldiers of the royal army. And now, youre considering joining the rebels. Does that make any sense?

It does.

Arent the rebel soldiers also Anbouaz citizens?

But still

And I dont owe allegiance to the kingdom of Anbouaz, do I?

Well, naturally

Exactly. Who am I? I am the Crown Prince of Magentano. Do I have a duty to be loyal to the Anbouaz royal army? No. To me, both the royal army and the rebels are foreign entities.

But still

Listen, there are likely many neglected wounded soldiers on their side as well. Just like when we first arrived here.

Demian fell silent.

He started to grasp what the Crown Prince was attempting to convey. It was difficult to believe. It sounded preposterous. Yet, paradoxically, it was becoming increasingly plausible. That paradox made it all the more bewildering.

Raciel continued,

Consider our healing camp. Its been relatively quiet, hasnt it? Few new wounded soldiers are being brought in. Both the royal army and the rebels are locked in a standoff in front of Balua fortress. So, what about our camp? We have mostly the previously wounded soldiers left. But most of them have passed the critical stage and are in stable recovery.

Youre not suggesting this simply because of that, are you?

Yes. It appears that Ive accomplished most of what I set out to do here. So now, I intend to go and tend to the overlooked wounded soldiers there and then depart.

Return to the Star Palace of Magentano?

Yes.

Raciel nodded in agreement.

Actually, he had been contemplating returning to Magentano lately. Just as he had discussed with Demian, it was because there were fewer new injured soldiers arriving. It felt like the end of a seasonal businessa sense that there was not much more to gain here.

When it comes down to it, Ive obtained everything I could by being here. Ive secured a considerable bonus of life. Ive acquired new skills. Ive boosted my HP. Its about time to head back to Star Palace.

Thinking about it, it had been a while since he left Star Palace Clinic. Thanks to the competence of the werewolf nurses, it had been running smoothly, but if he stayed away for much longer, there could be issues. It was a clinic he had to rely on for the rest of his life. Troubles could arise if he neglected it.

But just as I thought the seasonal business was coming to an end, an opportunity for a last-minute quick win has arisen.

That was the rebel armys recruitment proposal. The moment he heard the offer, he knew it. Ah, this was the dessert course following the main course of his extended life in the Anbouaz civil war. It would be impolite not to accept it.

So he made his decision.

He closed his eyes and chose to join the rebels. Even if just for one month, or even two weeks. He believed it would be enough to tend to the injured soldiers who had been overlooked.

Ill savor the last bit of the dessert course, the soup, and the seasoning.

Then, he would return to Star Palace.

He resolved to do so. Of course, he didnt reveal his true intentions. After all, neither of them knew about his bonus life.

Maybe thats why. Gardin, who had been silently standing beside him, suddenly pulled out a handkerchief, wiped his eyes, and sniffled.

Your Highness, I am deeply moved.

Why, Gardin?

Your mindset that patients are neither allies nor enemies I will also reflect on this and learn.

Ah, alright.

If thats how its interpreted, then thank you. Raciel grinned at both of them.

So, were going that way. It wont take many days. Just keep that in mind.

Demian reluctantly nodded. Gardin continued to dab at his eyes with his handkerchief.

A few days passed. Raciel made preparations for their departure. He met with the spy each night, negotiating the terms of his recruitment.

In the meantime, he sent a letter to Princess Adeline. In it, he wrote that he felt his work here was complete, and he planned to return to Magentano Star Palace. He filled the pristine white paper with vivid, but untrue, details.

In the postscript, he added,

[Theres a specially made giant-sized Orc barrel in the healing camp warehouse. It contains liquor and the corpse of the Vesparos queen bee. Please have it shipped to Magentano. That will be sufficient to express your gratitude.]

With this, Ill be able to enjoy my carefully brewed queen bee liquor.

Chirp.

Raciel licked his lips and sent off the letter. He completed his preparations to leave the healing camp.

Early the next morning, he left a letter for the camps medical officers on his tent bed. Then he secretly departed the camp with Gardin and Demian. They met with the rebel spy on the camps outskirts.

Its an honor to have you. Ill guide you from here.

They followed the spy.

They disguised themselves as Free Traders and traveled for about three days, avoiding the points of conflict between the royal army and the rebels.

They crossed mountains and rivers.

Traversed plains.

Finally, they reached the foothills where Balua Fortress came into view. The main force of the rebel army was gathered there. The party was immediately directed to the center of the rebel base.

Right this way.

A high-ranking officer from the headquarters welcomed them. They followed the officer, and Raciels heart began to beat faster, bit by bit.

Whew, I prepared myself, but its still nerve-wracking.

Raciel took a deep breath. There was no chance of his identity being discovered here. The disguise magic by Zanetis, the magician of the royal palace, was potent. Furthermore, he knew he wasnt in danger in this place. At least, he could be certain of that.

In the novel Devil Sword Emperor, thats how it was. Javillon, Anbouazs fiercely patriotic revivalist. He had an enormous ambition for recruiting talent.

Javillon treated everyone fairly, regardless of their background or social status. Whether it was gold or jade, he valued and respected it. He truly was a person free from prejudice, especially when it came to strengthening the country and the army.

Thats why he could have toppled the Empire.

Now, he was going to meet such an extraordinary figure. His heart rate began to speed up, as if he were going to a job interview.

Finally, he arrived at the center of the headquarters. The door opened. At the end of the long curtain, a man sat as if he ruled the place.

Standing at easily over 190 cm tall, he had a fittingly imposing physique. Surprisingly, he had a dignified face, a figure he had seen several times in illustrations in the novel. He was the leader of the rebels, Javillon Flamberg Anbouaz.

Seeing someone in a picture and facing them in reality were vastly different experiences, especially when that person was no ordinary being.

He felt overwhelmed as soon as he met him. A strange feeling, as if he were both human and something else. If one were to peel off a layer from his face, it felt like the faces of an angel and a demon would be revealed, half and half.

Just then, Javillons gaze fixed upon him. Their eyes locked. He flinched. Javillon suddenly stood up and walked toward him, without hesitation, without giving him a chance to prepare mentally.

He reached out his hands.

Touched his shoulders.

Nice to meet you. And thank you, the military officer called a saint.

The gaze looking down at him as he gently held his shoulders was intense. He thought he should avoid it, but he couldnt turn his eyes away. The pressure was immense.

However, Raciel was not entirely overwhelmed. Just as he was on the verge of succumbing to the pressure, he remembered the most intense pressure he had faced in his life.

That was when he had encountered the building owner in the hallway of his medical clinic, over rent and money.

Compared to that day, the pressure from Javillon was nothing. As he thought that, the overwhelming feeling dissipated. The pressure disappeared.

Thanks to that, he could muster a faint smile and respond comfortably.

Im also pleased to meet you, the heart of the revolution.

Good.

He answered naturally.

So, just one more month. Earn some extra life by treating the wounded soldiers and then vanish. He felt content with that plan.

But then, Javillon, who still towered over him, smiled meaningfully.

Excellent. Im delighted that youre willing to join my cause. From now on, you, a saintly military officer, wont have to engage in the perilous work of handling the blood of ordinary soldiers.

Excuse me?

What did that mean?

A sense of unease washed over him. Javillons smile grew warmer.

From now on, Im going to entrust you with a more vital and noble task. Specifically, youll be declaring to the world that someone as noble as you supports the spirit of my revolution.

So, lets build a new world together.

What do you think? Isnt it fantastic?

Fantastic?

No, this seems all messed up.

(To be Continued)

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