Demon King of the Royal Class

Chapter 40

At first, I certainly tried my best not to stand out too much, but now it had become a case of letting things take their own course. The fact was, I had already caused a lot of trouble and had received far too much attention, and it was too late to go back.

Well, whatever. Things would work out somehow.

It was true that from the moment I’d refused to suffer the upper-year’s hazing, the way the others looked at me had changed, although I wouldn’t say that it was exactly friendly.

The fact that I was the audacious guy who’d told the second-years to come back with the third-years when the prince was around had only added to my reputation.

Somehow, it seemed I was becoming the crazy guy who consistently exceeded everyone’s expectations, no matter what those might have been.

“... You used my name on the seniors?” Vertus asked incredulously.

“Yeah.”

I told Vertus the truth after he returned to the dormitory on Sunday. I figured it was better for him to hear it from my own mouth than to find out about it later from someone else. We were speaking on the terrace that we’d drank tea on previously. It was a secluded and comfortable place that was suited for such conversation.

Vertus seemed taken aback that I had used his name to ward off the seniors.

“I knew there was such a tradition in the Royal Class, and I had been wondering why they weren’t doing it to us... but it turns out that they were hesitating because of me, huh,” Vertus didn’t bother to speak kindly or pretentiously in front of me.

It seemed like Vertus had known about this tradition, and had been curious about why it wasn’t happening.

“So, what are you going to do if the seniors show up on Monday? If we go by that logic, wouldn’t it be your fault that I’d be crawling on the floor and not the seniors’?” Vertus asked with a sly smile, his eyes seemingly asking if I had a death wish.

“They probably won’t come on Monday anyway. But even if they do, it would be quite amusing.”

“Amusing?”

“Yeah. Whether you’re forced to the ground or not, they’re going to be the ones who are going to be shaking on the inside.”

Would they dare to throw a punch at a prince who refused to bow down to them? Whether they did or did not, it would be funny either way. Or, in the case that Vertus did obediently bow down to them, the ones who gave the order might just have a heart attack. No matter how much the Temple preached equality and emphasized the importance of seniority, given the present situation where imperial authority had greatly increased, the imperial prince and princess were the second-most revered individuals in the world.

Principles and reality were completely different. Other princes and great nobility could be contended with, but an imperial prince was fundamentally different from all of them in terms of his class.

Vertus couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of someone shamelessly peddling his name.

“Alright, fine. But it still is a serious offense to use the name of an imperial prince in such a manner. I’m assuming you didn’t invoke the name of your fellow classmate Vertus, but rather you used the name of Imperial Prince Vertus de Gradias. Surely, you didn’t imply that I was one of your peers, right?”

“Oh, is that how that works?” I replied.

He was right. I wasn’t simply asking them to come back when my “friend” Vertus was back at the campus, but was daring them to do the same to the imperial prince.

Shoot. Did my careless action finally anger him? Was I about to face retribution? Was it time for me to use the ring and run?

“Normally, wiping out your whole family would be the appropriate response. But I don’t particularly want to go that far. Since you’ve used my name once, I should be allowed to use you once too, right? That’s only fair.”

“Hmm?”

Was I even of any use to him? Regardless, Vertus was essentially proposing a fair exchange with me. Although invoking the name of an imperial prince within the Temple was technically not forbidden, it was still rather bizarre.

“I believe you share a few classes with my half-sister.”

He must have been referring to Charlotte.

“It’s nothing major. Just, if you notice anything unusual about her, let me know.”

So he was basically asking me to keep an eye on Charlotte de Gradias, and if anything out of the ordinary arose, I was to report back to him. He wasn’t necessarily asking me to get closer to Charlotte, nor was it a directive to engage in any fraudulent activities—it was simply a request to observe her.

In the end, though, it seemed I was gradually becoming a chess piece in Vertus’s long game. It was irksome to think about.

“Sure, I’ll do that.”

“Good.”

I wondered if there would even be anything unusual to report. I barely exchanged words with Charlotte to begin with. To her, I was completely non-existent, someone not even worthy of recognition. Did she even know who I was?

“Also, didn’t I ask you to try to get along well with the others?” said Vertus with a sigh, feigning annoyance.

“What’s the matter? By my standards, I’m getting along just fine. After all, you could say I saved the others from getting harassed today as well,” I said, taking undue credit.

Vertus let out a derisive laugh at my undeserved self-praise.

“I don’t think calling Lady Saint-Ouen ‘Thick-Skull’ qualifies as getting along well,” he remarked.

‘Did she already tell you what had happened?’

***

My private talks with Vertus were hardly a secret. As a result, my classmates had begun to look at me in a peculiar way.

We seemed like an unlikely pair, yet there we were, chatting away. And from a distance, one might even think that we were close friends.

It was even more odd to think that Vertus didn’t seem particularly angry at a self-professed beggar using his name so lightly.

Everyone seemed confused about the situation.

“Ve... Vertus!” cried Erhi as he approached, looking ashen as he ran up to Vertus, who had just left the terrace.

“Yes? Do you have something to say?” Vertus responded.

“Y... you should be careful of that guy...”

“Oh, there’s no need to worry about Reinhart. He’s just a bit awkward, that’s all.”

“Still...”

Well, even from my own point of view, I wouldn’t describe myself as merely awkward.

The conversation between them seemed to be spiraling into speculation that I, the bottom-feeder that I was, might one day recklessly harm the prince due to my barbaric nature.

Their voices faded as I got further away.

Come to think of it, at this moment at least, I seemed to be more useful to Vertus than Erhi was.

A rumor was slowly spreading, creating the image that I was somewhat closer to the prince than the others, which was mystifying to the other students.

So what? It wasn’t my problem.

I, too, was unsure about what to do.

Vertus would definitely treat me well the moment I proved I was useful to him. Whether it led to a closer connection or necessitated a separation later on, right now it seemed best to collaborate with Vertus, as long as it did not involve any harm to Charlotte.

As I headed to the dorm from the lobby, I saw Harriet sitting at a table, sipping tea and reading a book.

When our eyes met, she furrowed her brow.

“Hmph!”

Every time she saw me, she would let out an exaggerated “Hmph!” and turn her head away sharply.

What was with her? Her reactions were so dramatic that it was almost cute.

‘Hey, what’s the deal, noble high school girl? ‘Hmph’? Seriously, when did that become a thing?’

“Thick-Skull.”

“What... What did you say?!” Her face turned red with rage again, but I just shrugged my shoulders.

“Oh, I wasn’t directing that at anyone. Why? Is your name Thick-Skull or something?”

“Uh... u-um...”

She was getting conditioned by the words ‘thick skull,’ reacting every time she heard the word ‘skull’ even before I said anything.

“I thought you were smart, but apparently not.”

“How dare you!”

She sprang to her feet and stalked over to me.

“You keep provoking me to make me mention my status and breach the regulations, and you’re planning to report me to the teachers after that so that I’ll earn demerit points, right?!”

It seemed her imagination had taken her on a wild flight of fantasy. My provocations were, in her mind, to incite her to exclaim something like “How dare a peasant like you...!” and thus break the school rules.

She must be thinking that, since I was a bit crazy, I might be doing it just for the thrill of it.

“No, I don’t really have any particular intentions behind it...”

“Then why do you keep doing this to me! I don’t have a thick skull! Do you get it? Why are you like this, you beggar brat?!”

“It’s not that. The trade-off is just too good. With just one word, ‘skull’, I can make you produce all kinds of reactions. Wouldn’t you do it too if you were me?”

“What? Trade-off? What trade-off?”

With just one word, I could elicit such dramatic reactions from her—it was too fun not to continue.

I walked past her as she stood there, dumbfounded, her face reddening, trying to find the right words to respond.

“You’re cute, really.”

“Wha-what did you say? What did you just say...?”

“I said you’re cute. Regardless of whether you’re a genius, a noble, or whatever, all kids your age should act cute, like kids do. And you’re doing just that.”

“What... what are you even saying?”

She seemed utterly confused, unable to determine whether my words were a compliment or a scathing insult.

Who knew tormenting a well-bred noble young lady could be so entertaining? She seemed to question the situation, asking herself things like, “How could I receive such insults from a beggar? Is this really happening? This can’t possibly be happening, can it?” She looked completely shell-shocked, trying to make sense of the situation while clearly being unable to accept it.

I chuckled to myself all the way back to the dormitory.

***

We had a common class on Monday, and there were various incidents that day.

The first incident:

“Reinhart.”

The second-year senior whom I had previously given a hard time had come looking for me in class. He hadn’t come alone, but was accompanied by the same seniors from before, except for Adriana, the one with the composed demeanor.

There were four of them, including that little kid who glared at me as if she wanted to exterminate me.

The seniors’ entrance caused the temperature in the class to drop suddenly.

Before I could say anything, he suddenly threw something at me.

Thud.

To be precise, it wasn’t aimed at my face or any other part of my body; it landed squarely on my desk.

It was a glove.

I knew what this meant.

“You previously gave grave insult to the honor of Ard de Gritis, me, the heir of the Gritis family.”

He didn’t seem as agitated as he was before.

“Thus, to repair this damaged honor, I am here to challenge you to a duel.”

“... A duel?”

“Yes, a duel.”

What kind of archaic nonsense was this?

“You can choose the time and place. There, witnesses will observe our duel.”

The others found the idea of a senior challenging a junior to a duel unbelievable.

“So, you were embarrassed because you tried to bully someone a year younger than you but ended up having your balls squeezed, screamed like hell, and now you’re issuing a duel to protect your ego?”

Those around me had to make a supreme effort not to burst out laughing. The seniors glared at those around us, trying to intimidate the students who were trying to hold their laughs, but even they couldn’t hide their quivering lips.

Regardless of whether or not he was a senior, the situation was hilariously absurd.

“What you did was foul play! You scoundrel! Pervert!” the little brat, Rudina, yelled as she pointed her finger at me.

“If I’m getting beat up like that, of course I’d do anything to get out of that situation, even if that meant foul play. What are you even saying? Should I have just taken the beating quietly? Huh? Are you saying the weak should just stand there and let themselves be beaten up?”

“You talk too much. If you’re going to refuse the duel and embrace dishonor, then so be it. It’ll just prove what kind of man you are—someone who can only win through such unclean methods,” Ard de Gritis responded, without any visible emotion.

I knew from experience that if we fought, I was sure to be crushed. No—not just crushed, but severely injured.

A duel, then... I recalled inserting a duel scene. Within the Temple, students could engage in a duel when there was mutual agreement, as long as they did not use real swords.

I knew I would have a hard time, but I wouldn’t die from a duel.

“Yeah, sure. I accept.”

It seemed no one had anticipated that I would agree to the duel—not even the challenger himself. My classmates and the other seniors all seemed shocked at my response.

“Remember—this time, I won’t be taken down by the same dirty tricks you played last time.”

I needed a situation that pushed me to my psychological limits, and a duel might just do the trick.

That was why I accepted the duel, despite knowing that I would be severely beaten.

Whether the duel served that purpose for me or not, I wasn’t sure, but it was all I could try.

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