Episode 11. Prove Your Qualifications (1)
"Your Highness, His Majesty the Emperor has summoned you."
The unexpected message arrived early in the morning. As usual, Rakiel was about to begin his day by taking his own pulse when Sir Gardin delivered the news.
"Hm? For what reason?"
"Well, um…."
Sir Gardin hesitated before speaking.
"It seems that Your Highness's… eccentric behavior has reached His Majesty's ears."
"My eccentric behavior?"
If eccentric, then surely—
"Yes, what you're thinking is probably correct."
"…You didn't report my actions, did you?"
"Of course not."
Sir Gardin hurriedly shook his head.
"There are many eyes and ears in the detached palace. Through someone's mouth, Your Highness's eccentric—no, your actions of sticking needles into your own body or personally brewing and consuming medicinal herbs likely made their way to the Imperial Palace."
"Tch."
Rakiel clicked his tongue.
Eccentric behavior, really.
'Still… that alone doesn't feel like enough reason to summon me.'
That was his instinct.
There was something more.
This wasn't simply a case of wanting to see his face, or worrying that he had been doing strange things lately—reasons like that wouldn't warrant calling him all the way to the Imperial Palace.
'I'll find out once I get there.'
Suddenly, the early plot and setting of the novel Demon Sword Emperor came to mind. He recalled the image of the Emperor as he appeared in the beginning.
'The Emperor was a man as strict as a lion. Strict with himself, and with those around him.'
Naturally, his own sons were no exception. He constantly tested them—especially the eldest son and heir, the Crown Prince.
Whether they were qualified to inherit the throne.
Whether they were truly fit to hold such a position.
He examined, judged, and evaluated them relentlessly. He was, quite literally, a lion who would drop his cubs off a cliff.
And what about Crown Prince Rakiel in the original novel?
'He completely betrayed those expectations.'
A Crown Prince with a frail body and a weak mind. So weak that, to conceal those flaws, he even lashed out violently at those around him.
'There was a mention that the Emperor was disappointed in that weakness. And about two months before the Crown Prince's death… yes, around this time, the Emperor summoned him one last time.'
In the novel, Crown Prince Rakiel was unable to respond to that final summons. His condition had deteriorated far too much. He couldn't even lift himself out of bed.
He was practically carried onto a carriage by force, but before even reaching halfway to the Imperial Palace, he vomited blood and had to return to the detached palace.
'And as a result… Rakiel was stripped of all real authority as Crown Prince.'
That was the beginning.
The day the Emperor gave up on Rakiel. The Crown Prince title was passed to another son who had managed to climb back up from the cliff.
It was the result of a cold, impartial process of examination, judgment, and evaluation.
But now?
'Things are different. Very different.'
Unlike in the novel, he wasn't bedridden. Traveling to and from the Imperial Palace was no great burden.
Rakiel stood up from his seat.
"Then I should go. Prepare the carriage."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Everything after that proceeded swiftly.
He boarded a Rolls-Royce–class imperial carriage and clattered along the road, departing the detached palace with his guards. After about an hour's journey, they arrived at the Imperial Palace. He passed through the vast gardens, countless stairways, corridors, and corners. At last, he was granted an audience with the Emperor—Asterion Testarossa Magentano.
"Crown Prince Rakiel Adria Magentano greets His Imperial Majesty, the rightful ruler of this land."
Recalling the novel's lines, he offered a greeting that felt suitably natural.
Perhaps because of that demeanor—
A faint glimmer of surprise appeared in the Emperor's eyes as he looked down at his eldest son, Rakiel, who had always been frail and weak.
'…The Astral Heart Method?'
The Emperor, Asterion, murmured inwardly.
It was only natural.
The Astral Heart Method.
A secret art passed down exclusively to the direct imperial bloodline.
When the Crown Prince had been but an infant, Asterion himself had carefully implanted this technique into the child's tiny heart. Yet because of his innately weak constitution, the Crown Prince had never once been able to use it.
'And yet… why did I just sense a resonance from the technique?'
Those who possess the Astral Heart Method can sense the resonance of another person's cultivation. And the Emperor was a master who had reached the Double Circle realm. The resonance he had just felt from his eldest son was unmistakably that of the Astral Heart Method.
'Could it be…?'
The Emperor's gaze, looking down upon Crown Prince Rakiel, grew deeper. He closely examined his eldest son's pale complexion, attempting once more to grasp the resonance within him.
But from his frail eldest son, the Emperor could sense no positive sign whatsoever.
'…Was it merely an illusion?'
A trace of disappointment flickered across the Emperor's eyes. The resonance he thought he had felt for an instant could no longer be detected. The Crown Prince's appearance, as he saw it now, remained utterly wretched.
His emaciated body looked as though it might collapse if touched the wrong way. In his steps and movements, there was not the slightest hint of robust vital energy. His complexion was not just pale but deathly white, and even his lips lacked any healthy color.
In short, the Crown Prince looked like a textbook invalid—worse, a critically ill patient beyond any hope of treatment.
'Tsk, tsk.'
It seemed he had simply been mistaken. Perhaps that last shred of expectation he had been unable to let go of had led him into confusion.
With a mix of regret and disappointment, the Emperor clicked his tongue inwardly. There was no way that such a weak, sickly body could have awakened the Astral Heart Method. It was not something so easily mastered.
'Why did it have to be this way…'
The Emperor let out a silent sigh.
Why did it have to be his eldest son? He had chosen him as the successor to lead the Empire, yet the boy could not even properly support his own body, presenting nothing but a pitiful sight.
Countless healing spells had proven useless. The blessings and protection of the clergy had been no different. The many renowned physicians assigned to him had all given up and departed.
The meaning was obvious.
There was nothing to be done.
There was no answer.
The Crown Prince would likely not live long. That was why even the famed physicians had fled, like rats abandoning a sinking ship.
'Do you truly have no future at all?'
Should he have chosen the second son as heir from the very beginning?
The Emperor's gaze as he looked down at the Crown Prince hardened. No longer as a father, but as an Emperor, he addressed not his son, but the Crown Prince.
"So, have you been living comfortably in the detached palace?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Even the reply displeased him. The Emperor's gaze stiffened further.
"From what I have heard, it seems otherwise."
The Crown Prince kept his head lowered. Toward the crown of that bowed head, the Emperor spoke in a low yet severe voice.
"They say you have been displaying strange behavior in the detached palace as of late."
"..."
"Why is there no answer?"
"That is…"
"I hear you have been harming yourself."
"..."
Did that strike a nerve?
The Emperor's gaze toward the now-silent Crown Prince became oppressive, harder than stone.
"I am told you drove needles into your own body. That you even brewed and drank poisonous herbs. How utterly pathetic—pathetic beyond measure. Can you truly call yourself a descendant of the imperial family after such conduct?"
"..."
"I have heard that you treat your subordinates harshly. Perhaps it was because you were in pain. Because you were weak. But now you even turn that arrow of weakness upon yourself? Why is it that you cannot endure mere physical suffering, and allow even your heart to collapse into such disgraceful behavior?"
It displeased him.
His successor, who had never once appeared dependable since childhood. His own foolish belief that such weakness might someday be cured. And even now, this other foolishness—his inability to abandon hope.
All of it turned into resentment and regret with nowhere to go.
They seeped into his voice, cold and biting.
"That must not be so. You are the proud, legitimate heir of the imperial bloodline, and a member of the imperial family. Therefore, at any moment— even if your body and mind should collapse."
Even if you were to rot and decay from the inside out.
At the very least, outwardly—
"You must never lose your dignity and grace."
And so, even at the moment of your death—
"At the very least, do not disgrace yourself. Do you understand?"
"..."
Crown Prince Rakiel could not answer.
No—Lee Han did not answer.
Instead of responding aloud, he clicked his tongue inwardly.
'Hah. Listen to this guy talk.'
The more he listened, the more absurd it sounded.
The words were dripping with authority.
They spoke of the dignity of the imperial house.
But if you actually took a moment to chew on what he was saying—
'He's basically telling me not to smear the family image and to die quietly.'
Was that really something a father should say to his son? If it hadn't been him, but the original Rakiel hearing those words—
'He would've been devastated.'
Hearing something like that from one's own father would have cut deep. But Lee Han was different.
'Because he's not my father, if you really think about it.'
The Emperor might have been Rakiel's father, but he wasn't his. Not even close—just some middle-aged man he had met for the first time today.
Perhaps that was why.
Even as the Emperor's harsh words rained down, they didn't leave so much as a scratch on his mental state.
"Furthermore, if your health alone makes it impossible for you to bear the weight of the throne, should you not make a wise decision?"
'A wise decision?'
Rakiel frowned slightly.
'That sounds ominous. Everything up to now was just a formality—he really summoned me for what he's about to say next.'
He had a feeling.
And that feeling turned out to be exactly right.
"I will not beat around the bush. If you lack the confidence to shoulder the weight of the throne, would it not be a virtue to yield it to someone more suitable?"
"...Pardon?"
"I mean that you should pass the position of Crown Prince to your younger brother, the Second Prince."
The Emperor continued unilaterally.
"Think carefully. It would be a decision that benefits you, and everyone else. Moreover, this is also an act of consideration on my part."
"...."
Consideration.
If he refused, it would likely become an imperial decree—his Crown Prince title stripped and handed to the Second Prince. That seemed to be the implication. The Emperor's stern gaze, which had been fixed on him, softened ever so slightly—by about as much as a single grain of seasoning.
"What do you say?"
"...."
Rakiel remained silent.
It was a sudden proposal—no, pressure. Yet he wasn't flustered in the slightest. There were two reasons for that. One was his past life as a doctor of Korean medicine.
'I've had plenty of elderly patients who suddenly threw out completely unexpected remarks.'
The world was full of all kinds of people.
Do you have a girlfriend?
Then, when are you getting married?
Casual meddling was the norm. Especially among elderly patients visiting a clinic, there were quite a few whose minds tended to wander.
Elders who suddenly treated him like their son. Others who mistook him for a long-lost lover. He had even been called "Dad" by a ninety-year-old. Once, while performing acupuncture, he had even had to change an adult diaper—something he never thought he'd do in his life.
After going through situations like that so often, mental fortitude came automatically. Anyone who had once been a small business owner in Korea—dealing with all kinds of customers—would probably relate.
This situation was no different.
'Well. It's a little surprising, sure, but not enough to shatter my judgment.'
He glanced up at the Emperor.
The Emperor's eyes were still severe. And yet, the intent behind that gaze was strangely transparent. That was the second reason he wasn't shaken.
'If I were just Crown Prince Rakiel, I'd be panicking right now. I'd be reeling from an unexpected blow. But I'm not. I get what you're after. I've read the novel. This situation never happened in Demon Sword Emperor. And because it didn't, I understand it even better.'
The differences from the novel.
The Emperor's underlying intent.
What was going to happen next.
Everything was clear.
Predictable. Visible. Understood.
At that moment, Rakiel's lips curved into a confident smile. And then he spoke a single sentence—one that made the Emperor flinch.