Crown Prince Sells Medicine

Chapter 125

F*ck em? Why should I make a decision based on how people judge me?

Raciels cutting words were delivered with a sharpness that pierced through. Javillon couldnt help but take notice of this unfiltered response, and it left an impact on his heart.

Javillon felt a sinking sensation in his heart, and his eyes revealed a profound sense of surprise.

Huh?

It was peculiar.

Officer Rihan, renowned as the saint. His response was oddly out of place. It was an unexpected and unconventional answer, something that wasnt even among the options he had presented. Moreover, it was an extremely rude and offensive response, something he couldnt have even imagined.

However, strangely, it struck a chord in his heart. The echo of the reply reverberated inside his chest, repeating over and over. It dominated his thoughts.

Why?

He should have been angry, but he wasnt. Could he recall hearing such rude words face to face? Not in at least 10 years. Therefore, he should have immediately retaliated against that rudeness, either tearing their mouth apart or inflicting some kind of punishment to set an example and discourage such behavior.

But he wasnt angry.

Instead, his heart raced even more. It felt as if he had met his ideal type after searching for a long time. It wasnt an illusion. A strange conviction approached him, a bizarre certainty that this rude answer was the answer he had been seeking all alongan undeniable fact and an irrefutable truth.

Why should I make a decision based on how people judge me?

The more he pondered, the tighter his chest became, and his breathing grew labored. A strange discomfort made him wonder if he had misunderstood something all his life.

Revolution.

Changing the world, sweeping away the old, and writing new history.

He believed it could only be achieved with bloodshed. He also believed that sacrifices through bloodshed were necessary. Without it, the old system seemed too sturdy, making it impossible to shatter.

But am I supposed to be the one to achieve this kind of new order?

Really, necessarily, absolutely.

Does one really need to shed blood? Can the world only change that way?

He wasnt sure.

If that was the right thing to say. If the doubt sprouting from within him was correct.

Would it feel like this if someone slapped him in the back of his head? It felt like another part of him was whispering, telling him he had been thinking wrong all this time. There are many ways in this world, and being stuck in binary thinking is foolish.

Before he realized it, Javillons expression had hardened. No, it had become fierce. This made Raciel swallow hard, his throat quivering.

This atmosphere is no joke.

He subtly stepped back. Javillons demeanor wasnt normal. It seemed as if he would erupt any second or perhaps burst into tears.

Actually, it made sense.

He must be confused.

He recalled Javillon from the novel Devil Sword Emperor. He had longed for the answer to that question, wandering in search of it. Ultimately, at the moment of death, he finally thought of an answer he could accept, facing his end in a state of emptiness.

Now, in a completely sane state, he had heard that answer from someone elses mouth. The psychological shock must have been considerable. He probably wanted to deny it.

Indeed, the look in Javillons eyes was filled with confusion.

Was that answer sincere?

I just responded with what came to mind.

I see. Alright.

A twisted smile appeared at the corner of Javillons mouth. He then bowed his head.

Leave for today.

Pardon?

Try your best not to appear before my eyes.

Understood.

Raciel, who had already been eager to escape, immediately retreated at lightning speed as soon as Javillon gave the order. He spent the entire day confined to his quarters, occasionally perking up his ears because Javillons residence was right next door.

Surprisingly, Javillon remained silent throughout the day.

However, there was one moment when the sound of something breaking reached Raciels ears. Afterward, there seemed to be a faint sobbing noise, but it was so faint that he couldnt be sure. That was all. The day passed without any significant events.

It was past noon the next day when Javillon summoned him.

I cannot accept your answer.

As soon as their eyes met, thats what Javillon blurted out. His appearance hadnt deteriorated significantly in just a day. He still looked well-groomed, with perfectly arranged hair and meticulously maintained clothes, as if he had obsessive-compulsive disorder.

However, two things had changed since yesterday.

His eyes

They appeared clouded, with a clear sign of confusion. And his hand was wrapped in a bandage. What had been a white bandage was now stained with a deep red hue.

Seeing this reminded Raciel of the faint noises he had heard the previous nightthe sound of something breaking followed by soft and distant sobbing.

Was it not his imagination? As he contemplated this, Javillon continued to speak.

Ive been thinking about it since yesterday. About that rude and arrogant answer you gave. Ive come to a conclusion.

That you cannot accept it?

Yes.

Javillon nodded forcefully.

The blood shed in sacrifice is noble. Sacrifice is inherently pure, whether its a choice or a result of historys course. All sacrifices are valuable and deserve respect. No, they must be respected. They should be revered.

I see.

Of course. Thats the truth that history teaches us. It will be the foundation that elevates our homeland and race to greater glory. The weight of the bloodshed will make our revolution even more sublime.

Its a passionate speech.

Javillon is working hard to justify the rebellion he initiated. Whats even more pitiable is that he might have already faintly realized this fact. Thats likely why hes so passionately defending his position.

He seems to be suffering from some sort of cognitive dissonance.

An answer to his lifes question, not realized by himself but heard from anothers mouth. Its only natural he cant accept it so easily. How many stages of denial and anger must he go through to understand, accept, and acknowledge it?

It might be a torturous journey.

But Raciel didnt care. After all, he had no affection for him. Rather, it was better for him if Javillon was in such mental turmoil. Any sign of vulnerability, and he would immediately flee using the Imperial Road. It might even be a blessing in disguise.

By the way, how did you injure your hand?

Raciel asked with feigned nonchalance. As Javillon was fervently speaking, he flinched, looking at his right hand.

Well, it was a trivial mistake during training.

It was the first time Raciel had seen him stammering.

A mistake?

A Swordmaster? Injured his hand due to a mistake? Who would believe that? Even Javillon seemed to realize how ridiculous his hastily made-up explanation sounded, as his face reddened slightly.

Raciel barely suppressed a budding smile.

Should I take a look at your wound then?

Theres no need.

Even if I am your personal physician?

Its such a minor injury that its better left alone. Wasting time on it would be pointless, so dont bother.

Understood.

What was the point of appointing him as a personal physician in the first place? Of course, Raciel knew Javillons objective. Javillon probably hoped to influence Raciels views even slightly, wanting him to sincerely support his declaration speech in a few days.

Thats when it all began.

Surprisingly, even without seeking treatment, Javillon kept Raciel by his side 24/7. It was a peculiar coexistence, an unexpected tense standoff. It felt so tense that Raciel thought hed rather share a room with a black leopard starved for three days.

Hes always polite But hes also polite when he kills.

Raciel was afraid of when Javillon might snap and reveal his true nature. Therefore, he acted even more cautiously. Three days passed, during which Raciel remained unaware of how Javillons perception of him gradually changed.

To think such a person existed in the world

It was morning.

Javillon, the leader of the Anbouaz rebellion, looked at Raciel with fresh eyes. He found the sight of Raciel, who sat across from him and ate carefully, intriguing. The more he observed, the more convinced he became.

Rihan, the army officer, is not a sycophant.

He was an entirely different type of person, not resembling any of the subordinates who sought power. It felt strange, yet comforting. The more they interacted, the more at ease he felt.

It was an unusual experience. He hadnt had a good sleep in a long time. He hadnt ever let his guard down. But ever since he started staying with this army officer known as the saint, he was able to sleep deeply.

He couldnt explain why. No, he wanted to deny it, but deep down, he knew.

Was the answer this person gave truly the answer I had been yearning for all my life?

He wanted to deny it repeatedly.

But he couldnt.

It was maddening.

He felt like strangling the frail neck of this person on the spot. Yet, at the same time, a nonsensical desire arose to get closer to him.

Keep him as a close aide?

Or as a confidant to command as if an extension of oneself?

No.

He wanted to be friends, setting aside ranks and official relations. Sharing a drink, venting worries, cursing at each other genuinely, and offering sincere encouragement. He wanted to have such a bond, something he had never experienced in his life.

Perhaps that yearning was the reason.

Officer Rihan, to be honest, I always wanted to become a painter.

Pardon?

Raciels spoon, which was scooping up soup, halted. The corners of Javillons mouth rose slightly.

Really. Ive been interested in drawing since I was a child.

Drawing you say?

Yes. Believe it or not, I still draw quite well.

Is it strange?

No, its just that-

Just?

Javillon inquired.

Raciel furrowed his brow slightly.

I was curious how, if your passion was drawing, you ended up pursuing the path to become a Swordmaster.

Ah, because of the abuse.

Abuse you say

By my father. Every night, I had to endure being whipped. Still, I remained stubborn, insisting that Id become an artist. But it didnt matter. My father was just as obstinate.

Javillons gaze grew more intense. Though he was looking at Raciel, his eyes seemed fixed on a moment from his past.

So when I was around twelve, I made a deal with my father. If I passed the entrance exam for the art school, I could pursue my passion. If I failed, Id take up the sword.

You didnt pass?

No, I did.

Then why?

My father had my acceptance revoked. He used his influence to pressure the dean of the art school behind my back.

So my admission was permanently canceled. And ten days later, my father was dead.

You dont mean

Youve figured it out again?

Despite his reluctance, Raciel asked, Did you kill him?

Who knows? Ill leave it to your imagination, Javillon replied with a melancholic laugh. Did it evoke pity? Not at all. It felt more like a burden.

Why is this man acting so friendly lately?

Internally, Raciel shrugged. He wanted to leave this place immediately and return to Demian, to Gardin and the Star Palace.

So, he tried to find an opening, intentionally attempting to disrupt Javillons mental state by dropping the truth hed sought all his life like a bomb.

But after that, Javillons behavior oddly shifted. He continued to act friendly, or perhaps he genuinely wanted to be. He shared stories from his past without being prompted.

It was becoming overwhelming!

Tch. This is getting annoying.

He needed to find a way out.

Instead of finding an opportunity, Raciel found himself listening to Javillons past daily, even though he had no interest in it. He became the patient listener to tales reminiscent of a tragic childhood of a World War II mustachioed killer who failed art school entrance and committed suicide.

Sigh. Is there a way out?

Raciel felt inwardly anxious. And then it happened.

I guess youre not really interested in my story.

Excuse me?

Raciel was taken aback, feeling embarrassed. But before he could explain, Javillon spoke up.

Well, I understand. Who would genuinely care about someone elses unfortunate childhood?

No, I mean

Its alright.

Could he beupset?

Thats when Javillon suddenly extended his right hand towards him. Just as Raciel was about to flinch, Javillon spoke.

Please take a look at this wound.

What?

It seems to be getting worse.

Whether its him showing his wound while having breakfast, or Raciel having to inspect it

Raciel set aside the piece of bread he was about to dip in his soup. He examined the wound on Javillons palm, which appeared to be slightly infected.

It looks like the beginning of an abscess.

He decided to start with a pulse diagnosis.

Suddenly, he became curious. The character Javillon, who had dominated with absolute force up to the middle of the novel Devil Sword Emperor, now offered a chance to inspect his physical condition.

Alright, Ill conduct an examination.

Fortunately, Javillon no longer resisted Raciels pulse diagnosis. He cautiously grasped Javillons wrist, feeling his pulse and activated the pulse diagnosis skill.

Ding dong!

[Beginning Palpation.]

[Scanning.]

[3 2 1]

[Diagnosis results are available.]

[Please check the <Comprehensive Examination Form> below.]

The pulse diagnosis was completed.

Raciels gaze moved downward, meticulously reviewing the comprehensive examination chart. The next moment, he had to widen his eyes in surprise.

What?

The chart displayed Javillons comprehensive examination results. And Raciel slowly realized,

He seemed to have discovered a secretive, physiological trait of Javillon that hadnt even been revealed in the novel.

Specifically, Javillons small yet potentially fatal weakness.

(To be Continued)

To read ahead

Patreon Subscription Tiers

This chapter upload first at NovelBin.Com