"Forward, forward, forward! I'll take my brother's… the crown prince's head!"
Rodele tore across the battlefield, rebel soldiers streaming behind him.
To slay the crown prince—the supreme commander of the royal army.
To show the world that he was no mere puppet.
Mowing down the royal army soldiers who stood in his path with magic, he tore clean through the battlefield.
"Fire! Don't let them advance another step!"
At first, the royal army had mocked Rodele for charging out of the enemy line without any plan—but as the relentless barrage of high-powered magic kept pouring down and Rodele's momentum smashed through the wall of soldiers blocking his path, their laughter gradually died.
They poured everything into their magic and rained arrows down in an attempt to stop him, but Rodele would not be halted.
The rebel soldiers trailing behind him fell in ones and twos, but that was all.
At this rate, he would reach the main camp—where the crown prince and Marquis Cattleya, the royal army's commanders, were stationed.
"Push forward! Victory is just within reach!"
Rodele's reckless charge—nothing short of brute courage—turned the battlefield on its head.
The tide had turned. Though the numerical advantage still lay with the kingdom, it was now the royal army that was being driven into a corner.
Perhaps… had Rodele fully awakened, the outcome could have been reversed entirely, ending in the royal army's defeat.
Rodele might have led the rebel army all the way to the royal capital, cut down his father and the Second Prince, and claimed the throne as the new king.
But… that was not to be.
For there stood before him an impossibly thick wall—one that would bar Rodele's path to becoming the Hegemon King.
"Amaterasu."
"Ngh…!"
Shadow fell over the battlefield.
Recent events flashed through his mind, and a shudder ran down Rodele's spine—every hair on his back standing on end.
"[Stone Wall!
]!"
He hastily abandoned his horse, rolled to the ground, and cast a defensive spell.
Sunlight fired toward Rodele, who had protected himself with a solid stone barrier.
"Gaaaaaaaah!"
The screams came from the rebel army soldiers who had been charging toward the main camp right behind Rodele.
Bathed in the white light, all the momentum they'd had just moments ago was gone—they collapsed in a single blow.
"Now! Take down the rebel army!"
"Attack!"
It was Rest who stood before the royal army's main camp and blocked the enemy's charge with a beam of light.
Answering Rest's call, the soldiers of House Rosemary surged forward. Led by Diebl, they lunged at the crumbling rebel soldiers.
"Gh... this attack, it's just like before...!"
"So it seems... they blocked it."
"You...!"
Rodele crawled out from within the stone wall and looked up at Rest.
He glared with undisguised hatred at the greatest enemy standing in the way of his conquest.
"You're the one who fired that light magic... How dare you...!"
"I'm the one who ought to be saying 'how dare you.' Do you have any idea how many people died at the Sabnock Plains because of you?"
"............!"
Rest's words made Rodele's eyes widen.
Widening his eyes. In Rodele's case, it was quite rare to see regret reflected there.
"...I'm surprised. Even an idiot prince can feel remorse over his failures, huh?"
"An idiot prince... did you say?"
"Am I wrong?"
"............"
Rodele's expression twisted.
Having experienced the death of a friend, Rodele himself knew all too well how foolish he had been.
That was precisely why he offered no rebuttal. Though that didn't mean he intended to sit there and take it.
"You're young. Are you a student at the Royal Academy too?"
"That's right. You probably don't remember, but... I've seen your face before."
"............?"
Rodele frowned.
He stared intently at Rest's face, but... he couldn't place who it was.
"...Well, I figured you wouldn't remember."
Rest shrugged.
To Rodele, Rest was nothing more than a commoner whose name he didn't even know.
There was no value in remembering his face or his name either. Just another faceless stone by the roadside, one of the countless nobodies.
"...State your name."
"Hah..."
When Rodele issued his curt order, Rest gave an ironic shrug.
"Rest Clover. Technically a viscount. An upstart, though."
"I see... Well, I'm sure you already know — Rodele Aiwood. The man who will strike you all down and become the king of this kingdom!"
Rodele kneaded his mana and unleashed a spell.
A blazing strike of fire shot toward Rest at sharp speed — but was blocked by a wall of water.
The battle between the royal army and the rebel army.
The curtain rose on what would be its final act: a duel between the Third Prince, Rodele, and the young hero, Rest Clover.