—According to what was told, this was an event that occurred exactly several months before Lou met Gobuza and the others...
...Notice from the Subjugation Compendium—Due to the provisional registration of Gilbert Loto Amelia as a True Kin, a portion of sealed memories will be released.
—Memories: 5% Release.
It was a gorgeous, lavishly appointed room. I was throwing a tantrum inside, kicking one of the equally opulent chairs.
—I am the next king! A lowly peasant shouldn't even be allowed to speak to me! And yet, that incompetent fool...!
As I stomped my feet comically like an infant, a muscular, blue-haired man sporting stubble turned a pitying gaze toward me.
—Prince, the Throne Succession War has only just begun. You are not yet the next king.
He uttered the words that served as the ultimate rejection of me.
—Al, you bastard! Are you telling me I'm going to lose to those defective failures?!
The blue-haired man, Al, let out a small sigh and stood up from his seat. And then—
—Yes. At this rate, you will be the very first to drop out of this Throne Succession War.
—I'm going to lose?! To trash like them?! Do not speak such offensive nonsense!
—Prince, reality never goes the way one wishes to begin with. I swear to you, if you continue without taking a hard look at yourself, your very soul will surely be filled with regret.
Al declared with deep conviction.
Al was my sword instructor. While he had offered harsh counsel before, he had never made a statement that so thoroughly rejected everything I was.
—I'll regret it?! What could I possibly have to regret?!
Al shut his eyes tightly and shook his head from side to side.
—No, that's wrong. Once you regret it, it will already be too late.
You have already betrayed far too much. You betrayed your elder sister, and you abandoned the retainers who followed your orders. No one will follow a master who possesses nothing but heartlessness.
Find a friend. A trustworthy companion who will take your hand even now, when you are completely rotten and hollow.
With an expression of pity, he spat out the greatest insult possible against someone of royal blood like me.
—Al, you bastard...
Though rage flared up inside me at his lecturing tone—
—This is as much as I can say. From here on, you must seize your own path, Prince.
May it lead to a future blessed with happiness for you...
Muttering with a lonely air, as if trying to convince himself, he turned his back and walked out of the room.
The scene shifted.
—I have no need for incompetence among my knights. Kill them!
—B-But Tetor is your longtime attendant, Prince!
To the desperate plea from the elderly knight among my close aides—
—And what of it?! There is nothing more burdensome than a useless attendant. I will say it again: kill them!
I repeated in a forceful tone.
Biting his lower lip in bitter frustration, the aide knight walked out of the room without even bowing.
—Are you sure about that? From what I hear, one of them has been your vassal since way back, right?
To the question from a former mercenary with a pencil mustache whom I had only recently hired—
—I have no intention of keeping useless pieces. That goes for you lot as well.
I promptly stated the obvious truth.
—Scary, scary. The prince is a frightening man. But that's precisely why you're fit to be King.
Placing a hand over his chest, the man with the pencil mustache voiced what was merely obvious to me.
At that point, my vision warped and twisted.
I see. This was a dream. A dream about an utterly irredeemable scumbag. A pathetic clown who never doubted for a second that he was special.
How comical. It was truly laughable. I mean, wasn't it? The one who deemed everyone around him worthless and threw them away was, in truth, the person least needed in this world.