Crown Prince Sells Medicine

Chapter 17



The commencement of the duel had arrived.

The resounding voice of the emperor reverberated solemnly, capturing the attention of scores of nobles and a multitude of citizens, all fixated on a singular point.

In that moment, both the crown prince and the second prince stood poised, their presence commanding.

Anticipation hung in the air, the question lingering: Who would make the initial move?

Perhaps, it was assumed, the second prince would take the initiative.

Just as this assumption settled in the minds of onlookers,

A sudden, unforeseen metallic clang pierced the expanse of the grand bridge.

Clang!

Upon the floor lay a forsaken blade, none other than the iron sword clutched by Crown Prince Raciel for the duel. Had it slipped from his grasp while defending against the second prince’s onslaught? No, it was a deliberate release, a calculated act by the Crown Prince himself.

Nay, he had cast it aside.

“You couldn’t possibly be… giving up on the duel?”

Theodor, the second prince, arched an eyebrow, his emotions torn between relief and disappointment.

‘So, my brother chose the less strenuous option after all.’

The crown prince, his half-brother, was undeniably a kin burdened by affliction. The weight of wielding a blade against such a sibling in this very circumstance was undeniably daunting.

Hence, the surge of relief.

Yet, intertwined with that relief, lingered a sense of disappointment.

‘After coming this far, to show such an image, especially in front of so many people…’

His brother must have been gripped by profound fear within such a predicament. The magnitude of pressure must have been immense.

He comprehended that.

However, the circumstances appeared far from favorable. The imperial lineage, by exhibiting a semblance of surrender and retreat prior to the duel, exhibited a crack in the armor of the royal family’s honor.

‘So what should I do?’

Should he endeavor to persuade and assuage his brother, away from the prying ears of others? Should he reclaim his sword, resuming the duel, even if only for appearances’ sake, in order to safeguard the dignity of the royal lineage?

It appeared to be the course of action to take.

Having reached a resolution, Theodor turned his gaze towards his brother. He was on the verge of tenderly persuading him. However, in that very moment, he bore witness to an unforeseen spectacle.

…Swoosh.

His brother, Raciel, who had forsaken his sword, shifted his right hand. He firmly clasped the handle at the shield’s apex, while his left arm rested upon the inner armrest, stabilizing the shield’s center. Stepping back with his right foot, he anchored himself firmly to the ground.

It was an unwavering battle stance—a stance that paradoxically exuded both defensive prowess and remarkable proficiency.

The instant Theodor, the second prince, beheld this sight, realization washed over him. His brother had not surrendered the duel in the slightest. His act of relinquishing the sword was, in fact, a deliberate choice, a concentrated strategy.

‘He gives up on the clumsy attack. Instead, he seems to pour all his energy into aggressive defense.’

Upon contemplation, it became evident that it was a prudent decision.

His brother had never acquired the art of swordsmanship.

Attempting to confront him with inept swordplay would only result in an inevitable defeat. Thus, he had opted to endure the onslaught using a formidable shield, nullifying his attacks.

‘This duel does not end with winning or losing. It’s a duel where victory is decided by whether my brother can withstand me for 5 minutes without falling.’

Rather than an inept offense, his half-brother had opted for a particular form of defense. The second prince silently commended his sibling’s astute decision.

‘Excellent judgment. So… I will make sure to end this duel as quickly as possible to put you at ease.’

Swoosh!

Theodor unsheathed his practice iron sword.

Simultaneously, his entire demeanor underwent a transformation, a shift in momentum.

Kiiiiing!

The heart of the second prince thundered within his chest.

A circle around his heart beat wildly.

The imperial family’s concealed might, the formidable Core Technique, transformed into a primal beast, awakening every fiber of the second prince’s being. It urged him forward, compelling him to shatter all defenses and consume his adversaries whole.

In that very moment, the second prince’s foot descended upon the ground with a resounding stomp.

Thump!

The charge and the sword strike converged in perfect unison.

His body became the instrument of the sword, guided by its commanding presence. With a fluid yet forceful motion, he executed a downward strike, harnessing the entirety of his weight.

‘This will be the end.’

The second prince exuded unwavering confidence.

He believed it to be the final blow.

There existed no conceivable means to halt it.

No matter the size or strength of his brother’s shield, it was an inescapable truth that it would be unable to impede it.

Not a shred of doubt entered his mind.

‘It’s not a strike that can be blocked simply by trying.’

It stood as an undeniable reality.

His physique towered over his brother’s. In comparison to his sibling’s fragile and diminutive frame, his own was remarkably robust. He exerted an overwhelming combination of weight, muscular strength, speed, and even harnessed mana. What would be the outcome if such an attack collided honestly with a shield?

Inevitable collapse.

The sword might be intercepted by the shield, but the body concealed behind it would crumble. The arm, unable to withstand the impact, would shatter. The knee, unprepared for the tremendous shock, would buckle beneath the strain.

If only his brother managed to maintain his ground, it would be a relief.

The second prince earnestly yearned for it.

‘Please, just don’t fall backwards. Just kneel!’

He desired to spare his brother, a scion of the imperial bloodline, from a shameful collapse before the eyes of all. Thus, he opted for a devastating downward strike.

Even in defeat, he sought to maintain his dignity, to gracefully kneel in place. In his own manner, it was a strike borne out of consideration for his brother.

However, his consideration was unexpectedly met with betrayal.

Swoosh.

Just as the sword neared the shield, a subtle shift altered the angle of the shield.

‘…Huh?’

The second prince’s pupils quivered.

Yet, there was no opportunity to alter the sword’s trajectory. His blade collided with the shield as originally intended but quickly slipped off, scraping the surface before veering off to the side.

Kwakakakak!

‘…!’

The weight, muscular strength, speed, and mana that permeated the sword… none of it effectively transferred to the shield. His blade merely skimmed the slanted surface of the shield and glided downward, unable to deliver its full force.

‘…Did he deflect it? The downward strike?’

The second prince stood in utter astonishment.

‘How?’

Deflection was no simple feat.

It demanded precise timing and a flawless angle. It was an intermediate technique that necessitated mastery over the elbow, shoulder, and scapula joints to effectively manage the impact during the moment of deflection.

Yet, his half-brother, the Crown Prince, executed it flawlessly. The eyes that peered at him above the shield spoke volumes. The Crown Prince’s vibrant, animated, and fiery gaze unmistakably conveyed his accomplishment.

‘It wasn’t a coincidence.’

He came to a realization.

It was almost unbelievable.

Yet, undeniably true.

The second prince gathered the fleeting surprise that had momentarily surfaced.

‘But that doesn’t mean the outcome of the match will change.’

Thump!

A surge of strength coursed through his hand that grasped the sword. His blade, previously deflected and gliding downward, resumed its path with renewed ferocity.

Simultaneously, Crown Prince Raciel clenched his teeth, determination etched upon his face.

‘Ugh, he’s tougher than I thought.’

Raciel exerted strength into both hands firmly gripping the shield’s handle. However, he sensed a lack of sensation in his attempt to apply force. Numbness tingled through his palms.

Yet, it wasn’t solely his palms affected by this numbness. His right wrist and forearm, grasping the upper handle of the shield, his left arm and shoulder supporting its weight, and even his waist and thighs experienced the same tingling sensation.

It had occurred merely from deflecting a single downward strike, but the effect was evident.

‘He’s much stronger and faster than I thought. More than I expected.’

Or maybe it was because his own body was relatively weak. Or maybe it was both.

‘But I can do it. It’s not beyond what I can block.’

Thump!

Once again, he clenched his teeth tightly.

In an instant, memories from over a decade ago flooded his mind.

He had been a student at a medical school, but unlike his fellow classmates, he did not pursue a career as a public health doctor after graduation. No, it was unnecessary for him. He had already fulfilled his military service obligations before entering medical school.

‘I didn’t want to do that either…’

However, he had been left with no other option.

It was a result of his family’s circumstances.

Nonetheless, during his youthful years, brimming with vitality, he recalled the time he was conscripted into serving his country. Back then, he had served as a combat policeman, chosen for his respectable physique to wield the shield.

It was thanks to that role that he had grown acquainted with the aluminum shield he had utilized at the time. He had perspired profusely while carrying around the nearly 7-kilogram shield, enduring its weight.

‘It was tiresome.’

The grueling training.

Shield inspections.

Frequently deployed to quell protests.

He had intercepted a myriad of objects with his shield. It was not limited to mere timber or pipes; spears and baseball bats were among the basic items. He had firsthand experience of deflecting an array of tools and objects, each showcasing the ingenuity of human creation. Hammers, nunchucks, glass bottles, bricks, picture frames, chains, bars, bamboo swords, dog waste bags, and many more.

‘In fact, I’ve blocked rubber ducks and anchovy sauce with a shield!’

He let out a sharp exclamation as he swiftly retreated.

Bringing the shield down with force, he thumped it against the ground.

He lowered his center of gravity as much as possible, assuming a sturdy stance.

His right hand gripped the upper handle, while his left hand secured the central handle. Supporting the inner surface of the shield with his left shoulder, he exerted his entire weight to press the shield firmly towards the ground.

In an instant, a powerful impact struck the underside of the shield.

Screech!

Immediately following the deflection of the initial downward strike, the second prince’s sword arced horizontally, aiming for the lower section of the shield.

However, in that precise moment, Raciel masterfully twisted the angle while leveraging his body weight to support the shield. It was as if he sought to repulse and reject the incoming strike, employing his entire being.

Thump!

Both the shield and Raciel’s body were nudged half a step to the side.

Yet, that was the extent of it.

He managed to maintain his stance without faltering, thanks to deftly diverting more than half of the impact from the sword strike to the side.

“……!”

The second prince’s eyes widened in sheer astonishment.

However, Raciel was not completely unharmed. Simultaneously, a flicker of pain crossed Raciel’s squinted eyes.

‘Well, I deflected it… but oh, it hurts.’

His entire body tingled with sensation.

Beyond the aching muscles and strained joints, it seemed as though his very energy was being drained away. It was more than just a mere perception.

‘This is the power of the Core Technique.’

As he deflected the initial downward strike.

When he successfully blocked the subsequent lower strike.

In those crucial moments of impact, he sensed an unsettling drain on his mana. Familiar with this sensation, he recognized it all too well. It was a phenomenon frequently mentioned in the novel ‘Devil Sword Emperor’.

‘The characteristic of the Core Technique, mana absorption.’

The Asrahan Core Technique, the royal family’s closely guarded secret.

This unique method specialized in the manipulation of mana, allowing for its absorption, amplification, and discharge. Its remarkable capabilities were prominently showcased in combat, particularly in the disruption and absorption of the opponent’s mana with every precise sword strike.

And at this very moment, it was unfolding before his eyes.

‘Ugh..’

A wave of nausea washed over him.

Recollections of a technique frequently depicted in martial arts novels flashed through his mind.

However, this particular method, capable of siphoning mana even amidst clashes of weapons, seemed even more ruthless. Yet, it was precisely due to this brutality that a glimmer of hope emerged within a corner of his heart.

‘The momentum of mana absorption is much stronger than I expected. Then… I can do it. I can make it.’

With steely resolve, Raciel suppressed the queasiness surging within him, directing his focus towards the second prince’s impending third attack.

The second prince was already closing in, charging with unwavering determination.

Whoosh!

The second prince’s diagonal slash descended with a resounding force.

Just as anticipated.

The second prince, portrayed as a diligent and righteous character in the novel, lived up to his description.

He made no attempts to trip Raciel’s legs or dislodge the shield. His sole intent was to overpower his opponent in a fair and honorable contest.

And for that, Raciel was grateful.

He perceived it.

He sensed it.

The precise timing to defend and deflect the impact. And the opportune moment for mana absorption upon collision as well.

‘This is the last chance.’

This is the third and final.

Raciel knew he could not endure any longer.

His fragile body had already surpassed its limits.

Therefore, he had to give his all in this final defense. He had to rely on the stamina and lower body strength he had diligently trained. The carefully crafted shield that he had meticulously prepared. And even the last-minute preparations he had completed the previous night.

Now, in this very moment, he had to pour every ounce of his being into this endeavor.

‘Right… now!’

Thump!

The second prince’s diagonal slash descended upon the shield.

In that critical instant, Raciel swiftly twisted the shield, aiming to repel the attack.

Just as he had done in the previous two defenses.

He successfully deflected the impact.

And in that very moment, the second prince’s Core Technique infiltrated his body. It mercilessly plundered and absorbed his mana, akin to an invading force seeking to seize control.

Yet, he did not resist.

Rather, he flung the doors wide open.

He activated the circle slot.

[Activating the discharge function of slot 1.]

[Please set the amount of discharge.]

‘0.2 liters!’

Simultaneously, his circle slot swung open wide, unleashing an immense discharge of the stored substance within.

Squeak!

A deadly liquor, potent enough to leave even the most seasoned drinkers unable to maintain their composure with a single sip. The very same liquors that Gardin had hesitated to present the previous night. Raciel unleashed a devastating concoction, a merciless blend of twenty such lethal liquors, and handed it over.

The second prince’s Core Technique greedily absorbed the explosive liquors in one gulp, completely defenseless against its effects.

And in that very moment…

“……Cough… Hicc?”

The second prince’s internal organs unexpectedly began an impromptu liquor party of their own, causing havoc within his body.

TRIVIA:

All male South Korean citizens are required to serve in the military for at least 21 months. However, there are a few exceptions to this rule, including doctors who are working in public health. Public health doctors are considered to be essential personnel, and they are therefore exempt from military service.


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