"Even though Doni seems fine with his current state…" The Black Prince mused, stepping out of the Sword King's mansion, his face clouded with thought.
"Once he snaps out of it, he'll likely see things differently."
"If I can help him with this, he might owe me—though it could just lead to a fight in the end."
"But either way, it's worth a shot."
Everything was for his dream.
Known as Black Prince Alec, his true name was Alexander Gascoigne.
From a young age, he'd heard tales of the Holy Grail from his father, a minor mage and fervent adventurer obsessed with finding the sacred cup said to hold the blood of the divine son.
Raised in such a household, Alexander absorbed countless stories about the Grail, fostering a deep longing for the legendary treasure.
His father, a weak mage, died pursuing it.
But Alexander had little time to grieve. Driven by his father's legacy and his own desire, he followed the same path, seeking the Grail as a novice mage.
It was during this quest that he encountered a Heretic God, surviving against all odds to become a Campione.
Becoming a Campione thrilled him, as this power gave him confidence he could find the Grail, fulfilling his father's dream and his own.
"If there's such a thing as fate, this must be it—using the power usurped from a fallen angel to seek the Messiah's treasure," He'd say, a childlike smile lighting his face.
All his efforts as a Campione were for this goal.
He succeeded in tracking the Grail's whereabouts—it was in the hands of the Divine Ancestor, Guinevere.
He pursued her, clashing in battle.
But he hadn't anticipated a Heretic God aiding her, among other complications, and his efforts fell short.
Worse, Guinevere now regarded him with heightened caution.
This visit was to aid Doni, hoping to secure his future assistance.
Campiones were reckless, but their resolve was unshakable once set.
Unfortunately, it wasn't so simple.
Still, it didn't matter.
This was just one part of a broader plan to increase his chances.
Though disappointed, he reassured himself inwardly.
"Time to head back—I need to learn more about this new King," He said, preparing to activate Divine Speed.
Suddenly, his gaze sharpened, and he shifted five or six meters to the right.
"Yo!" A figure on a nearby rooftop raised a hand, waving casually.
It was a young man in casual clothes, lounging almost reclined on the roof's edge, looking down at him.
His appearance was unremarkable… yet somehow seemed to reflect a myriad of human expressions.
Was it due to the god he slew? He defeated Heretic Mars, but Mars lacked such traits.
And the Authority that altered Doni wasn't something a war god would possess.
So, it was likely he'd defeated another, unknown Heretic God.
"You finally showed up. This roof is hard as hell—not comfy at all," The man complained, standing and leaping down.
"Didn't expect you to chat with Doni so long… You two get along well? That's surprising."
"No, his state just shocked me, so I took a moment to compose myself," Alexander replied, stepping back to lean against a wall, instantly resuming his refined demeanor.
Pity, he thought. He'd hoped to catch the man off guard and detain him.
Lucius, one hand in his coat, sighed inwardly with regret.
Whether by instinct or otherwise, this calculating Campione had sensed his intent to ambush.
Should he seize this chance to drain his power, too?
Campiones needed no reason to fight—might as well try.
His gaze grew more menacing.
"You seem to hold quite a grudge against me," Alexander said, frowning, his tone displeased.
But he was suppressing his battle lust.
As a Campione, he was naturally belligerent, especially when sensing malice from an equal.
Yet he avoided unnecessary fights.
To him, they were reckless. Letting battle lust control him could ruin many things.
But if needed, he wouldn't hesitate to use force.
For now, there was no need, especially since he knew little about his opponent.
And, recalling Doni's state and his invitation, a chill ran through him.
"My defeated foe is mine to handle. You meddled without permission—of course I'm annoyed," Lucius said, eyes unblinking.
The real reason, naturally, was better kept secret.
"I see," Alexander nodded noncommittally, his true thoughts hidden.
"But even so, I won't apologize for my actions."
The noble Campione spoke firmly.
Then, with a scornful smile, he activated his Authority.
Brilliant lightning crackled around him, a blinding bolt piercing the sky.
Time to go.
Fighting a kin was pointless if he won, and losing… might leave him like Doni.
He knew little about this kin's powers.
Despite his burning battle lust, he chose reason.
"What a coward," Lucius remarked, hand still in his coat.
"Before you talk…" Mozlis's voice dripped with disdain.
"Can you take your hand off the bottle?"
***
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