Chapter 10: The Lion Hiding Its Fangs

The fragrance of blooming flowers filled the whole world, and the warm sunshine melted into the skin like cream on that afternoon.

"Your Highness."

In the Imperial Family’s outdoor Skash arena, a scene quite similar to the one from some time ago was unfolding.

"I didn’t expect we’d meet again so soon, haha."

The man who spoke, his eyes curved like crescent moons—

Was none other than Count Needro.

"After losing that match, my competitive spirit was so fired up I couldn’t even sleep that night."

At Rohan’s words, which showed a boyish side, a subtle glimmer flashed in Count Needro’s eyes.

On the day he returned to the past, Rohan had lost the match against this very man.

‘It makes for a convenient excuse.’

Of course, Rohan hadn’t called him back simply because of that loss.

The old fox of the Imperial Family, Devon Needro.

He had called him because there was something he needed to discuss.

"I didn’t know Your Highness was such a competitive man. Judging by your recent actions as well… It seems there are still parts of you this old man doesn’t know?"

Even as he laughed, Needro’s eyes were busy darting around.

Within those small eyes, the sharp gaze that seemed to catch even the most minute details would send chills down the spines of those who knew him well.

He might only be a count in title, but there was no one in the Imperial City unaware that his power rivaled that of a marquis.

After all, most of the Empire’s influential figures were connected to him in one way or another—be it through personal ties or through money.

Through long years in the Imperial City, outstanding intelligence, and the wealth he’d accumulated by leveraging those two things, he had long since established a solid faction of his own.

So, why was such a man playing Skash with the Second Prince?

‘There’s a reason they call him an old fox.’

Rohan knew full well that Count Needro had not yet severed his last thread of connection with him.

‘With the Crown Prince dead, only two successors remain for the Emperor—myself and Elliot.’

Standing opposite to Marquis Fabian, Count Needro was deeply uneasy at the thought of Third Prince Elliot seizing the throne.

‘But in the past, he never placed his bet on me.’

Because he thought it a losing game.

Thus, having served only Emperor Beltar with unwavering loyalty, Needro found himself sidelined on a remote ‘island’ after the Emperor’s passing, forced to withdraw from the front lines.

Even when his own position was at stake, he never sided with Marquis Fabian.

For Rohan, that fact alone was reason enough to bring Count Needro over to his side.

Of course, his extraordinary abilities were also nothing to overlook.

"May I begin?"

Rohan smiled as he moved the black piece on the Skash board.

"Of course, Your Highness."

Count Needro raised his eyebrows ever so slightly before moving his own piece.

As the white and black pieces went back and forth a few times, Rohan spoke up first.

"Count Needro. How is the Gerald Territory’s mining venture progressing these days?"

"I’m surprised you know about that, Your Highness."

Count Needro’s eyes widened.

Rohan shrugged his shoulders, feigning nonchalance.

"I might not be very active outside, but I do pick up a few things here and there."

"Haha, the Imperial City is always like that."

Moving his white piece, the count chuckled.

"Stories pile up to form a little hill, and someone is bound to dig into that hill and lose their footing. That’s how it is in the capital."

His words were tinged with meaning.

"These days, I too hear much talk of the Second Prince. I heard you even attended the morning council recently?"

"I did. I plan to participate more often from now on."

"Splendid. Everyone seemed so shocked that their heads were spinning."

Count Needro laughed heartily.

"The mine…"

He paused to move his piece, then continued.

"Well, it’s not easy. Maybe it’s my age, but my mind doesn’t turn as quickly as it used to. Perhaps it’s time for me to retire, haha."

"The location alone makes it difficult. The Dwarves of the Prana Confederation are always nitpicking over the ownership of that mining zone."

Tap.

As Rohan made his move and replied, the count paused with his hand on a white piece, then looked up.

"And how do you know about that?"

As Count Needro’s eyes narrowed, Rohan gave a faint smile.

"Would you believe me if I said reading the Empire’s diplomatic documents has become my new hobby?"

"My, my."

The count’s eyebrows shot up.

"Another fine hobby, Your Highness. I always thought you were just a youngster, but now… It feels like I’ve just taken a hard smack to the back of my head."

"And to think, I’ve managed to surprise even the great Count Needro. I should remember this day for a long time."

When Rohan grinned, the smile faded from Count Needro’s face.

‘This is not the Rohan I used to know.’

Such a refined reply.

He’d expected him to look confused and be unable to answer, but here he was, speaking fluently.

It was truly strange.

Count Needro decided to press the conversation further.

"If it were Your Highness, what would you do?"

A hint of curiosity was in his voice.

The prince was acting so unusually today that it had startled even him.

"Well. That’s just it."

Rohan picked up a white piece from the Skash board as he spoke.

"May I try to resolve this matter myself?"

"You, Your Highness?"

Caught off guard, Count Needro’s eyes widened slightly.

The Gerald mining region.

It lay at the great branch of the Urald Mountains, bordering the Schubert Empire and the Prana Confederation, and belonged to the Gerald Territory.

It was a very attractive region due to its rich mineral deposits, but there was always some obstacle causing endless headaches.

The Dwarves, with their obsession over their own ores, would constantly cause trouble, claiming their territory was being encroached upon, making it difficult to extract the minerals.

Count Needro had tried everything to maintain friendly relations.

But despite his efforts, the conflicts with the Dwarves never ceased, and it wore away at him.

The reason he saw the matter as so serious was simple.

Yes, profit was a concern, but most important was the fact that the coal mine in the Gerald Territory was one of the Empire’s largest.

If the coal supply diminished, prices would soar, and the resulting hardship would fall directly on the common people who relied on coal for fuel.

Especially in the Empire’s north, where timber was scarce, coal was essential.

With winter approaching, the worse the disputes became, the greater the blow to the people’s lives.

"I’ve already done all I can to win the Dwarves over. But perhaps because they are another race, their very way of thinking seems different."

Count Needro clicked his tongue in displeasure.

"But for Your Highness to resolve this… Do you have some clever plan?"

At his question, Rohan smiled.

"Perhaps. If you can call it clever, then yes."

"Don’t tell me, this time…"

The count furrowed his brows as he made his next move in Skash.

"You guessed right, Count. To be honest, this is what I think—I intend to use this matter to secure my own position."

"My, my."

A soft gasp escaped Count Needro’s lips.

What shocked him first was not the substance of the words, but the very manner of speech.

‘Did the Second Prince always have this side to him?’

He’d been living in the capital for nearly forty years.

He couldn’t fail to recognize that Rohan was skillfully hinting at his intentions.

Securing his footing through the Gerald Territory’s affairs, while also offering help, was nothing less than an invitation to join his faction.

‘Does Prince Rohan truly desire the throne?’

That’s how it looked.

Catching the steward who embezzled palace funds, suddenly participating in morning council—these things now made sense.

Count Needro realized that all the things he’d only half-suspected were true.

As he fell deep into thought—

Rohan picked up his black piece and tapped Count Needro’s white Kingshur.

"Oh dear. It seems I’ve won today’s match."

"……."

Ding!

The bell rang, signaling the end of the match.

"Victory to Prince Rohan!"

Scrape.

Rohan rose from his seat.

"That was a fun match."

"…Yes, Your Highness."

"I hope you’ll think carefully about my offer before you reply."

And so, the two men’s game of Kingshur ended, leaving a sense of significance hanging in the air.

---

"My word, the things you see when you live long enough."

Tap.

Handing his cumbersome hat and coat to his attendant, Count Needro sank into the armchair in his office.

"No, that’s not it. How should I put it? Bizarre, perhaps? Yes! This is all just too bizarre!"

"Did something happen, Count?"

His attendant, William, asked, and the count stroked his beard, narrowing his eyes.

"It’s only been two weeks since I played Skash with the Second Prince. But between then and now, it feels as if he’s a completely different person."

He laughed softly.

"At this point, it seems less that he’s grown suddenly, and more that he’s been hiding his true self remarkably well all this time…"

Just thinking about it sent a shiver down his spine.

‘I thought we had a harmless puppy in the palace, but it turns out he was a lion hiding his fangs all along.’

Otherwise, could it really be that he, of all people, had been completely fooled all this time?

Truth be told, he had been weighing up Rohan all along.

The faintest possibility that he could become Crown Prince—

That alone would have been enough for him to offer his support, and, with that, threaten Marquis Fabian’s position.

To a man as patriotically devoted as he was, Marquis Fabian was like a parasite eating away at the Empire.

Others might not realize, but he did.

If Elliot became Crown Prince and then Emperor, wielding immense power, he knew exactly what Marquis Fabian would do.

He could only predict that the Empire would meet with disaster.

And today.

Count Needro had seen a fierce conviction burning in Rohan’s eyes.

His greatest talent was neither his wealth nor his power.

It was the keen eye for people he’d gained through decades in politics.

"William."

"Yes, Count."

"Write a letter to the Lord of Gerald. Tell him I have something urgent to discuss."

"Yes, understood."

William, the second son of Robert Gerald, the previous lord of Gerald, was now working as Needro’s attendant while learning politics.

The Gerald family, who shared his beliefs, were technically vassals under him, but the bond between them was as close as true friends.

So this was not a matter he could decide alone.

In reality, Baron Demico Gerald, who managed the territory and operated the mines, was the key decision-maker.

As he habitually reached for a document on his desk, the count glanced down at his withered hands.

"Sigh, I can’t afford to sit around hesitating any longer."

He was growing older and frailer by the day.

Just looking at his trembling hands as they struggled to hold the paper made that painfully clear.

‘There’s only one thing I can do for the Empire.’

At the very least, not to hand the power to rule the Empire to Marquis Fabian.

His faded eyes flashed.