About a month had passed since our arrival in the royal capital.
First, regarding our training.
Zack's combat technique easily cleared the bare minimum level required for a martial artist. That being the case, introducing a new concept was the quickest way to elevate his abilities. Therefore, I decided to instruct him in non-elemental enhancement magic.
In this world, non-elemental enhancement magic was generally considered utterly useless—it required an agonizingly long chant only to yield a negligible effect. In short, its reputation was abysmal. Because of that, I had fully expected him to complain, but Zack followed my instructions obediently.
While inventing this sort of technique from scratch was exceptionally difficult and required long years of trial, grasping it wasn't all that hard once someone showed you the ropes.
About three weeks in, Zack had already succeeded in activating it without a chant.
Of course, he still failed once every two or three attempts, and he had only managed to convert the mana cloaking his body into a state of physical reinforcement. In essence, he had merely set foot past the threshold of non-elemental enhancement magic.
Yet, even in such an unrefined state, his physical capabilities had improved remarkably, leaving Zack himself on cloud nine day in and day out.
And then, there was one pleasant surprise.
The silver-haired beastfolk girl, Mew.
After watching Zack train, Mew asked if she could learn as well. When I tried teaching her, she picked it up with astonishing speed. No, it was no longer a simple matter of having a good memory. It was almost certainly magic compatibility. Compared to the human race, this magic seemed an extraordinary match for beastfolk.
That said, heightened physical capabilities meant nothing without the martial arts to direct them. Day by day, I taught Mew the fundamentals of combat little by little.
While I was enjoying this rather fulfilling life in the royal capital, Rose summoned me to the palace.
"Please wait here for a moment."
Directed by a young man with the haughty demeanor typical of a civil official, I sat waiting on a plush sofa until the same official returned to the room.
"You are about to be granted an audience with His Majesty. However, the throne room is no place for an imitation who lacks a single drop of blue blood. Ensure you do not commit any faux pas."
I hailed from an honorary knight peerage. In other words, I was not a noble in the true sense. In short, he was telling me not to get ahead of myself.
"Right, right."
Giving an airy reply, I stood up and stretched.
The young official's brow twitched, but he left the room in silence.
Mm. Looks like I annoyed him. Well, I couldn't care less about the brat's mood.
My surroundings—the stairs, pillars, walls, and ceiling—were crafted from pristine, beautiful white stone. A vivid red carpet blanketed the staircase. Following the stairs upward, a massive set of double doors came into view at the landing.
"How pointlessly extravagant."
Just how vast a fortune had been poured into creating such a lavish spectacle? It couldn't have been achieved solely through wealth plundered from foreign conquests. The bulk of it must have been squeezed from their own populace through taxes. In other words, this grandeur was living proof of the state bleeding its own people dry.
No matter how gorgeously they decorated a hall accessible only to royalty and high ministers, it amounted to nothing more than vanity. The state could accomplish so much more if those funds were put to proper use. It was just as Rose had said. This country was rotten to its core.
Enduring sharp glares from the knights flanking both sides, I watched as the heavy doors swung wide.
This was what they called the throne room, I presumed. Taking even a single ornament adorning the walls, it looked pricey enough to make one's eyes pop out.
Inside the colossal chamber, two distinct factions stood assembled.
On the left were the civil officials, led by ministers clad in opulent robes; on the right stood knights in pure white armor. Centered on the throne itself, a rugged blond man lounged with overbearing arrogance. Before the dais stood two girls in dresses and a young man.
Among them, the girl in the white dress was Rose. That meant the blond man and woman were a prince and princess alongside her, and the two men at their sides were likely their respective Royal Guards.
Bathing in hostile glares from knights and officials alike, I made my way over to Rose.
At this point, I might as well throw caution to the wind. I'd gladly play the fool to the bitter end.
"Silence!"
At the shout of a man who appeared to be a minister, the entire assembly pressed their right palms to their chests and bowed their heads in unison.
Naturally, being neither a retainer nor a subject, I settled for a perfunctory nod. Just basic adult courtesy, really.
The King surveyed the room with a brazen smirk.
"I have summoned you all today for one reason: the selection method for the royal succession has been officially decided."
So this tense atmosphere was indeed regarding the royal succession war.
A selection method, in short, meant outlining the rules of the selection war.
As expected, the selection war itself was common knowledge, as not a single person present looked surprised.
"Now then, allow me to explain the rules of the royal selection. Though I call them rules, it is quite straightforward.
Rosemary, Gilbert, Louise—the three of you will each be granted a territory to govern.
The development and prosperity of your respective domains will serve as the baseline, and with your contributions to the Holy Amelia Kingdom factored in, you will receive an overall evaluation on a scale of one to ten.
Four years from now, when the youngest among you, Louise, comes of age, the one with the highest marks shall be crowned the next sovereign. Well? Simple and plain, is it not?"
The King curled his lips into a wicked grin. The man was undoubtedly enjoying this.
This King was the sort of ruler who used the Hero to keep the Demon King at bay while invading and subjugating the Beast Kingdom and other minority tribes. My apologies to Arnold, but in my eyes, he was nothing more than a power-hungry tyrant.
"Your Majesty, who shall oversee and judge this development?"
A handsome blond youth dressed in sumptuous red attire brushed back his long hair as he addressed the King. That had to be Prince Gilbert. He looked like an absolute handful at a glance.
"To ensure absolute fairness, the Prime Minister shall conduct all evaluations."
The King shifted his gaze to the bearded, black-haired giant standing beside the throne and made his proclamation.
"Th-That is—"
The haughty blond prince paled and moved to object, but...
"Do you take issue with my judgment?"
The moment the black-haired giant leveled those icy black eyes at him...
"N-No..."
Gilbert averted his gaze. Louise, too, looked entirely dissatisfied, yet she held her tongue, silently grinding her teeth.
Even someone like me, who was utterly indifferent to national politics, had at least heard the name. The man who had elevated the Holy Amelia Kingdom into one of the world's premier military powers in a matter of years: the Prime Minister of the Holy Amelia Kingdom, Johannes Roosevelt. This man alone stood in a league of his own. His bearing and presence were far more imposing than the King lounging upon the throne.
Regardless, upon hearing that the Prime Minister would handle the evaluations, Rose let out a subtle sigh of relief. He must have a reputation for unshakeable impartiality.
"Now then, we shall proceed with the introduction of each Royal Guard."
Clearing his throat, a greying man in priest-like robes stepped forward and unrolled a parchment scroll.
"First, representing Her Highness Second Princess Louise! None other than an active S-rank hunter, rumored to be the strongest of his trade—Lord Isaac Gizdoor!"
When the silver-haired young man with slit-like eyes standing beside the blonde woman pressed his right palm to his chest and gave a courteous bow, cheers erupted across the hall.
Isaac Gizdoor—unquestionably the pinnacle of hunters. For that haughty blonde princess to secure the strongest hunter alive as her Royal Guard, she had to be exceptionally shrewd.
"Next, representing His Highness First Prince Gilbert: a visitor from another world and core member of the current Hero's party—the Great Sage, Lord Satoru Mizoguchi!"
When a handsome black-haired youth of about seventeen or eighteen raised a hand, an even more deafening roar of applause shook the room. As expected of a key figure from the Hero's party; his popularity was immense.
Just as Rose had predicted, the Hero himself hadn't been chosen as a Royal Guard. However, with an otherworldly compatriot taking the post, the Hero had practically aligned himself with Gilbert's faction. It was only natural to see it that way.
Even so, just like with Arnold and Isaac, I couldn't sense an ounce of strength from that Sage. In fact, it had been that way ever since I emerged from that beginner dungeon.
Having survived for millennia in that Easy Dungeon, I had plenty of confidence in gauging the threat of monsters. But when it came to reading the strength of humans or their summoned beasts, I was never entirely sure. After all, outside the realm of my own mind, I had zero experience fighting actual people.
"And finally, representing Her Highness First Princess Rosemary: bearing the title of 'The Most Incompetent in the World,' the undisputed King of Incompetence! The weakest Royal Guard in historyyy!"
Raucous laughter echoed through the hall. Good grief, this priest fellow certainly put his heart into my introduction alone. Was he only capable of enthusiasm when belittling others? Talk about misplaced priorities.
"Hmph. The weakest, is he?"
The King snorted and fixed his gaze squarely on me.
My frank impression was wondering why this man was abdicating at such an age. He was still in the prime of his life and perfectly capable of ruling.
Regardless, my detractors were merely ill-mannered brats. There was no need to take offense, but I saw no reason to play subservient either.
"I am deeply moved by the flattering introduction. Unfortunately, unlike the rest of you with time to kill, I am a busy man. I would appreciate it if we wrapped up this farce swiftly."
A heartbeat of stunned silence met my exceedingly constructive proposal—and in the next instant, the throne room erupted in furious roars.
Beside me, Rose buried her face in her right hand and released a heavy sigh. Come now, even I feel a little stung when you look that exasperated.
"Insolence before His Majesty! Off with his head!"
"What are the Royal Guards doing?!"
The middle-aged priest who had just introduced us turned as red as a boiled octopus, shrieking hysterically.
A burly blond man with notably long sideburns—evidently the Captain of the Royal Guard Knights—glanced toward the throne.
"Your Majesty, if I may?"
Pressing a hand to his chest, he asked with formal deference.
"By all means! A splendid diversion. Don't hold back, Geralt!"
The King leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with mischievous curiosity.
The large man with the sideburns drew his blade and leveled the tip straight at me.
Oho. Going by his form alone, he was remarkably skilled. By my estimate, he was already on par with Zack. Which meant he was still very much a work in progress. He hadn't touched the realm of Arnold or myself.
"Kai, please, just don't get—"
"I know."
Rose warned me, genuine panic written across her face, but I raised a hand to ease her worries. My opponent was just an unpolished novice. I'd make sure to pull my punches.
I had fully expected him to charge immediately like the Sword Emperor or Zack, but...
"..."
With sweat pouring down his face like a waterfall, he simply held his stance, unable to twitch a single muscle.
"Captain Geralt?"
As murmurs of confusion rippled through the knights...
"I believe it would be wise to leave it at that. It is rather unbecoming of an adult, you know."
The white-haired gentleman, Isaac Gizdoor, kept his gaze locked on me as he offered a calm dissuasion.
"He speaks the truth. An incompetent of that caliber is hardly worth the Captain's personal attention. Striking him down would only bring shame upon Lady Rose."
"Indeed. His insolence toward His Majesty can simply be deducted as a penalty in the royal selection."
"No matter how brazen the fool, our Captain takes no pleasure in tormenting the weak. Truly, spoken like our leader!"
Voices of praise and agreement rose in support of Isaac's words. Geralt, his face drained of color like a corpse, slowly sheathed his sword, bowed to the King, and remained frozen in place.
"Fascinating. Truly fascinating."
The King chuckled as though thoroughly amused while watching Geralt remain bowed, but his smile vanished just as abruptly as he rose from the throne.
"Then let us proceed.
Regarding your assigned territories.
Gilbert shall have Westland in the west.
Louise—Thousand in the south."
The King paused, a cruel grin tugging at the corner of his lips. Honestly, it was enough to send a chill down anyone's spine. Rose seemed to feel it too, her expression hardening.
"And Rosemary shall have the eastern frontier—Eastend."
A breathless silence fell, followed instantly by a storm of protests.
"Your Majesty, Eastend has no subjects to speak of! How could I possibly develop such a land?!"
Rose cried out, her face pale.
She had a point. Eastend lay even further east than my hometown of Lamoor. It was literally the easternmost edge of the world. A wasteland of barren wilds and dense jungle; far from having citizens, it was crawling with monsters. In fact, it was questionable whether one could even consider it territory of the Holy Amelia Kingdom.
"Rose, consider it a handicap. A woman of your intellect understands the meaning behind this, yes?"
"..."
As Rose ground her teeth, the King offered a sinister smirk.
"Fret not. I guarantee the evaluations themselves shall be conducted with utmost fairness and without personal bias. That is all. Dismissed!"
With that, the King turned and departed.
The ministers and knights followed suit, casting looks of pity toward Rose as they filed out of the throne room.
And who could blame them? Saddled with the 'weakest incompetent' as her Royal Guard, she had now been dealt a catastrophic handicap in the royal selection.
Could my attitude have caused this? If so, I felt somewhat guilty.
Still, given Rose's precarious standing, an obstacle of this magnitude should have been anticipated from the start. She would just have to weather the storm.
"No use moping around. Let's get going."
We'd need to inspect this territory called Eastend sooner or later anyway.
"Right..."
Rose slumped her shoulders and began walking, only for the handsome black-haired youth—the Sage, Satoru Mizoguchi—to swagger over.
"Serves you right! Rose, this is what you get for turning down my offer!"
He crowed with delighted malice.
"I do not regret choosing Kai as my Royal Guard in the slightest."
"Even when it's basically guaranteed your defeat in this race?"
Sage Satoru shifted his gaze to me, taunting Rose with a sneer.
"We shall have to agree to disagree. I do not believe my defeat is guaranteed at all."
"Oh please. You really think someone like him can beat me?"
Sage Satoru kept his eyes narrowed at me, glaring with open disdain.
Jealousy born from his infatuation with Rose, no doubt. A child throwing a tantrum, was he? What an exhausting personality. Well, turbulent emotions were common for kids his age, so I needed to handle this like an adult.
"You really don't need to be so hostile with me. I have zero romantic interest in Rose. I won't stand in the way of your little courtship."
I wasn't nearly young enough to harbor desire for a child a hundred thousand years my junior, after all.
"—Wh-?!"
His entire face flushed crimson, and Sage Satoru sputtered like a landed fish. I gave his right shoulder a reassuring pat.
"Such raw passion is simply the beauty of youth. Give it your best shot, young man!"
Beaming with a warm smile, I offered him my encouragement.
"D-Don't you dare mock me!"
Spitting out that parting shot, Sage Satoru turned on his heel and dashed away, stammering all the while. Ah, to be young again.
Well, time to head back.
"Let's move. I'd like to see this new domain of ours."
"..."
Instead of answering, Rose fixed me with a deadpan, utterly murderous glare.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing at all!"
Puffing out her cheeks, Rose stormed ahead. Tilting my head in confusion, I followed her out of the throne room.