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Chapter 25………………………………………….
But at that age, with that level of skill, shouldn’t he be famous enough to be in standard textbooks—so well-known that the entire Empire would be talking about him?
When Adamas stared suspiciously at Pantheon, Pantheon, sensing her blunt gaze, looked back at her.
“Why, Lady Adamas? Have you suddenly taken an interest in me?”
“Mr. Pantheon… do you perhaps suffer from prince syndrome?”
“A prince?! How could you say something so cruel!”
Pantheon, who had been calm every moment until now, suddenly turned serious.
Ah… maybe “prince syndrome” was a bit too harsh? He did seem pretty confident about his looks…
“I may have gone too far—”
“Lady Adamas! The Francis Empire, since the founding of the first Emperor Shuon, has been an imperial nation that has fought fiercely against every opposing force. A prince?! That is an insult to the imperial family!”
Adamas was about to apologize—if only Pantheon didn’t have that annoying, smug teacher-like attitude.
“Ugh, so irritating. What are you, a history teacher? Ross, no matter how handsome you are, don’t ever turn out like that. He’s exactly the type I’d never want as a dance partner at a ball.”
“W-What did you say, Lady Adamas? Everyone is desperate to dance with me.”
“Hmph! Stop calling me ‘Lady.’ It’s not even sarcasm, it’s just annoying!”
Adamas snapped her head toward Sapheiros.
Sapheiros met her eyes and gave her a quiet smile.
Ah… blue eyes really are the best for peace of mind. Yes. Our genius swordsman is the best.
“H-Hey! Miss Adamas! I’m not someone you can treat so casually!”
“Says the mysterious man whose tournament application is full of lies!”
Pantheon raised his voice in frustration, but Adamas simply ignored him and smiled toward Sapheiros.
“Why are you talking so loudly? Ugh, spit, spit… Maybe I should’ve just sunk in once to check.”
Stefan, who had barely escaped the quicksand with the help of a sylph, shook the sand off his body.
“What do you mean?” Sapheiros asked, frowning.
“It didn’t feel like I was being pulled down—it was like my feet floated for a moment. If it weren’t for the sylph, I would’ve really been swallowed.”
“So this quicksand isn’t normal quicksand?” Adamas asked.
“That’s what it felt like. Didn’t you notice?”
Stefan turned to Privetina. She irritably shook sand from her hair.
“How would I know? Do you think I fall into sand every day?”
“Tch. This feels weird. Let’s try sinking again.”
“No, Stefan. You can’t invite danger based on a feeling alone,” Adamas protested.
“Seriously. If you suspect something, you have to test it. How are you going to find anything out if you’re that scared?”
“Safety comes first.”
“No adventure, no reward.”
“What if it’s real quicksand? By the time we realize, it’ll already be too late!”
Stefan and Adamas glared at each other.
“We’ll do it. We have the sylph, so it’s not that dangerous. Even if it’s quicksand, we can pull him out anytime.”
Pantheon quietly raised his hand, siding with Stefan.
“It’s too dangerous! And we’re not even sure!”
Adamas shook her head firmly.
“No. This is certain.”
Pantheon replied in a low voice.
“Stefan’s instincts have never been wrong. Not even once.”
“What is he, a prophet? Does lion blood run through him or something?”
“Yes. How did you know? Stefan really is a descendant of the lion.”
“Hah. Now you’re treating me like an idiot. At least make your lies believable.”
“I’m serious.”
Adamas crossed her arms silently and glared at the two brothers.
“Hey. Why are you looking at people with such suspicion?”
Stefan muttered, shaking his head repeatedly.
“Descendant of a lion… What era do you think this is? That kind of outdated scam…”
“This woman—! Who are you calling a fraud?!”
Stefan stepped forward angrily. Sapheiros placed a hand on the longsword at his waist and moved in front of Adamas.
“Put that spear away. Before you lose your neck.”
“What, you bastard. Acting like a knight. No need to wait until the Marquis’s territory. Let’s fight here. Showing off in front of a woman.”
“Want to see who’s really showing off? A knight who can’t protect his woman might as well die.”
As the two glared at each other, Pantheon spoke coldly.
“That’s enough, Stefan. Lady Adamas. I know it’s hard to believe… but Stefan truly is a descendant of the lion.”
“…Really?”
It was impossible to believe.
“Are you saying he can actually… prophesy?”
“Hmph!”
Stefan snorted.
An elder brother who was a high-level spirit mage, and a younger brother who was a prophet?
What exactly were these suspicious siblings?
* * *
The founding myth of the Francis Empire began with the adventures of three lion brothers. That was why the imperial crest was a golden lion.
Among the three, the youngest lion, Shuon, became Emperor—the first Emperor of Francis.
Shuon’s ability was prophecy.
Because of that, every group claiming to be prophets insisted they were the true descendants of the golden lion.
And now… the one-armed swordsman was actually a prophet?
This is getting more and more suspicious… but I can’t back out now.
Adamas glanced at Sapheiros, then at Privetina. She didn’t know when she would ever have a chance like this again in the desert.
Fine. Better than returning empty-handed.
“…Then please. Stefan.”
Better to clear doubts quickly.
If the brothers were willing to help with their abilities, why refuse?
“Alright. Tie the rope around my waist.”
Stefan wrapped the rope around himself and inhaled deeply.
“Here I go.”
With his spear raised high, Stefan slowly walked toward the strange quicksand.
Pantheon watched carefully from a distance, sylph summoned.
The other three gripped the rope tightly, ready for any danger.
Ssssss—
The sand beneath Stefan began to sink rapidly.
Sapheiros tilted his head, feeling a faint but steady vibration through the rope.
“Something’s definitely strange.”
“What is it, Ross?”
“I’m not sure… but he’s being pulled down at an unnaturally constant speed.”
In moments, the sand rose past Stefan’s waist, then his neck.
“This isn’t good. We’re pulling him up.”
“No. Not yet. Until the spear is fully submerged.”
It was Stefan who stopped Sapheiros. He stretched his left arm higher.
His voice was firm, filled with absolute certainty.
“Mas… is this really okay?” Privetina asked, trembling.
“It’ll be fine, Tina.”
Adamas comforted her, twisting the rope around her hands twice more.
“Hoo…”
Stefan took one last deep breath—
And his face vanished beneath the sand.
Only his long spear remained above the surface.
That alone proved he was still conscious.
Ssssk—
Adamas couldn’t even wipe the sweat from her brow. She just stared, gripping the rope tightly.
The swirling sand, the upright spear—
And then—
“This—!!”
“Ugh!”
“Ah!”
The spear suddenly dropped downward.
At the same time, everyone holding the rope fell hard onto their backsides.
“What?! Why all of a sudden?!”
Adamas scrambled up, scanning the area.
“Tch… I guess we really have to go down ourselves.”
Sapheiros held up the cleanly severed end of the rope.
Pantheon nodded.
“Indeed. This was Stefan’s doing.”
With his body fully submerged, Stefan couldn’t have cut the rope unless—
There was space beneath the sand.
Enough space to swing a spear.
“And he cut the rope to prove it.”
“So there really is something down there…” Privetina murmured.
She pulled several thin towels from her bag. Everyone wrapped them carefully around their mouths and noses.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
At Sapheiros’s command, Pantheon and Privetina stepped into the quicksand.
“Do we have to follow right away?”
“Of course. Don’t worry, Tina.”
Adamas reassured her.
The sand quickly swallowed them both.
“Our turn.”
“Ugh… I hate sand. Just imagining it scraping through my body makes it worse.”
Sapheiros smiled.
“When we return, I’ll boil hot water. You’ll wash first.”
“…Hmph. I’m really only doing this because of you.”
Adamas took Sapheiros’s hand and stepped forward.
When the sand reached her hips, Sapheiros wrapped an arm around her waist without hesitation.
With only their necks above the surface, they inhaled deeply—
And exchanged one final look.
