Slightly rewinding in time—two hours after the Magic Hunt Festival had begun.
While students of the Royal Academy clashed with monsters across the plains, one man had pushed deeper into the Sabnock Plains than anyone else.
"Hmph... Filthy things. Do not stand before a king."
"Graaauuuuugh...!"
The magic unleashed by that man—Rodele Aiwood—tore a hole clean through the monster's chest.
What crumpled to the ground with its chest pierced through was a black bear monster with horns protruding from its head.
It was a reasonably powerful monster, but Rodele's advanced magic had dispatched it in a single blow.
Two retainers stood behind Rodele, watching the battle unfold.
His usual pair of lackeys applauded their master, who stood unscathed and utterly dominant.
"That was magnificent, Your Highness Rodele!"
"As expected of Your Highness Rodele! Taking down a large monster in one hit!"
The one clapping his hands and shouting was the smaller man among the pair of big and small lackeys.
An obsequious display, plain as day. Bathing in the flattery of his cheerleader, Rodele let out a self-satisfied "Hmph!"
"Obviously. As if I could ever lose to a monster of this caliber."
Rodele Aiwood, Second Prince of the Kingdom of Aiwood.
The man had set foot on the plains almost the moment the Magic Hunt Festival began, and had already pushed deep enough to reach the interior.
An astonishing pace that left all other students far behind.
"That said, Your Highness... are you truly certain about this?"
Likewise, it was the larger man among Rodele's lackeys who asked the question.
Rodele turned around with a suspicious look.
"What are you talking about?"
"There was no need for Your Highness to participate in such pointless child's play. Someone of your station shouldn't have to compete with the lower classes."
It was sincere praise.
Rodele was seen by the majority as a selfish nuisance, but... he had cultivated a fanatical following among a select few, including his two lackeys.
This was partly due to the lingering influence of the late queen dowager... but it also stemmed from Rodele's own extraordinary magical talent.
Rodele was a genius. At least, when it came to magic.
His mana reserves were vast, and his output was high.
He had already mastered numerous advanced spells while still a student, and he was the individual expected to lead the next generation of mages, shouldering all of those hopes.
Reaching the depths of the plains in merely two hours was no accident.
It was the result of Rodele's overwhelming talent.
His crude, inconsiderate personality was also, paradoxically, well-received by a small minority.
There were those who admired such a brute, someone unbound by rules and conventions.
If one were to list historical greats... one might name Napoleon Bonaparte, Julius Caesar, or perhaps Oda Nobunaga.
People who brushed aside the opinions of parents and superiors, who trampled tradition to create a new world. That kind of person could appeal strangely to certain young people.
His two lackeys were exactly like that.
They admired, and found reliability in, Rodele's tyranny—his utter disregard for even the king's opinion as he forged his own path—and thus followed him.
"Hmph, that is obvious."
"Obvious... is it, sir?"
"Whether it was that man who defied me in the classroom the other day, or those teachers who suspended me... there are far too many graceless fools who do not understand who truly deserves respect."
Rodele raised his right hand overhead, pointing toward the sky.
"Who is the one who should stand at the pinnacle... I must make even these commoners understand that. Is it the elder brother who happened to be born first and became crown prince? Or the second brother who possesses no talent for magic? Obviously not."
Rodele declared with supreme arrogance, as if proclaiming a universal truth.
"This I, Rodele of Aiwood, am the one who shall stand above all. I will demonstrate that with results so clear that no one can deny them."
He would produce undeniable results at this Magic Hunt Festival.
A mere victory would not suffice. He needed an overwhelming triumph.
He would make it so obvious — so vividly, undeniably clear — that even the most short-sighted commoner would have no choice but to acknowledge it.
That was precisely why Rodele had deliberately chosen to participate in this event.
"All you need to do is follow me. I will show you as I climb all the way to the throne."
"Your Highness...!"
"Ohh...!"
The two sycophants gasped in awe at Rodele's grand declarations.
In a time when the first prince's ascension as crown prince and eventual succession to the throne was all but guaranteed, no one but Rodele of Aiwood could dare say something like this so brazenly.
Rodele, in a certain sense, did possess the talent of a king.
He had the will to raise ideals, believe in a future of success, and charge through wastelands undaunted.
But... one must not forget.
No matter how rough and reckless a man might be, no matter how deeply he believed himself to be king... having talent alone did not guarantee success.
To succeed and forge a new world, wisdom and fortune were also required.
Whether Rodele of Aiwood truly possessed those was, at best, a question.
"Right, let's move. This bear won't cut it. Bring me something far more impressive!"
"Hah... Your Highness, this prey is..."
"Leave it. I have no interest."
Rodele pressed forward relentlessly.
He forged ahead down his own path, walking ever onward without pause.
All the while, ignorant of the fact that the road he walked did not lead to glory — but to ruin.