Grandson of the Holy Emperor is a Necromancer

Chapter 58

“Uwaaaaaahk!”

One side of his face exploded. Count Fomor hurriedly shielded his blown-up face and fell onto the ground. He screamed out while thrashing around in pain.

“Uwaahk?!”

“H-his highness has finally lost his mind!”

Bloody hell, he’s still alive?

I had to stop in the middle of generating the bullet and that must’ve caused the gathered divinity to be too unfocused.

Just before I could grab the shovel and dash towards the vampire…

“…Stop the Imperial Prince, now.”

The Holy Emperor Kelt Olfolse issued his command.

The Paladins patiently waiting on standby pounced on me en masse.

I glared at the emperor.

He showed not one hint of fluster on that stony face of his. Nope, it simply came across as being endlessly disinterested.

Kelt Olfolse shifted his gaze away from me and stared at Count Fomor afterwards. He then tilted his head to the side, a deeply meaningful expression floating up on his face.

Dammit! Just one more hit! One hit and it’d been over…!

While gnashing my teeth, I got dragged away by the Paladins to an unknown destination.

**

(TL: in 3rd person POV.)

The Holy Emperor, Kelt Olfolse, was deeply disappointed by the Seventh Imperial Prince’s announcement of surrender. However, he couldn’t help but get constantly surprised by what transpired during the duel.

He thought that these two brothers were extremely similar when they started hurling profanities at each other.

But the moment the Seventh Imperial Prince summoned a shovel from an empty space without any trace of using magic, he gasped out in admiration.

He then even felt almost compelled to applaud the fact that the boy managed to hold on for so long in a duel against Luan, even though the latter admittedly wasn’t at the peak of his health.

Luan Olfolse was also deeply stunned by these events as well.

He personally witnessed the Seventh Imperial Prince use [Divine Aura] right in front of his eyes.

The boy summoned a shovel, and yet, there was definitely not a speck of detectable flow of divinity, Mana, or even demonic energy.

This had to be another type of supernatural ability, a god’s miracle that wasn’t related to magic at all. Luan had no choice but to think of it that way.

The fact that the boy used [Divine Aura] caused questions to pop up in his head, but they weren’t related to the insults done to Count Fomor but rather, the things Allen had done up until now.

-Your highness, what would you do if it turned out that the Seventh Imperial Prince deliberately misbehaved in order to get himself banished?

Luan abruptly recalled what Harman had told him some time ago. Back then, he thought that such a thing was pure nonsense, a mere delusional dream.

But with things like this, could there be more to that assertion, somehow?

Just what did his younger brother do after his banishment to acquire power of this magnitude? Or, was it like what Harman said and the boy had been hiding his true self since from a long time ago?

Suddenly, Luan felt this compulsion to test Allen out.

He shifted his gaze and met Kelt Olfolse’s eyes.

As expected of two people with the same blood flowing in their veins, their thoughts were exactly the same, too.

‘I want to test him!

‘I want to test Allen in front of my eyes and see if he possesses the qualities of an emperor in him!’

Luan already knew that he was a dead man.

For the sake of his mother’s honour, he wished so badly to endure somehow, undo this curse, and become the next emperor. However, if that was an impossible goal for him, then Allen should replace him, since he was the brother who came from the same womb as him.

This would be the best way to get back at those aristocrats who mocked and sneered at his mother for being a lowborn, a commoner.

‘In that case, I shall sacrifice my own life to test you properly, Allen!’

He started injecting divinity into the wooden sword.

It was around then, another stunning scene played out again.

Allen activated another round of Divine Aura. The shovel, which was close to snapping in half, had suddenly grown tough, strong.

He somehow deflected the wooden sword, and then smashed Luan in the face with the shovel. The latter collapsed into a heap on the ground, but his eyes continued to move.

He saw Allen summon a musket.

The boy’s eyeballs shifted and then started glaring at Count Fomor among the spectating aristocrats.

But why? Why was this fool so obsessed with Count Fomor like this?

Allen started offering a prayer, but he had to stop that in the middle and took aim with the musket rifle.

It was a ‘no casting’.

A magician normally needed chanting and Mana, whereas Priests required prayers and divinity, and Necromancers used lifespan and demonic energy.

However, ignoring those necessary steps and instantly using magic was a feat that even the high-ranked members of clergy would find difficult to pull off. Yet, the Seventh Imperial Prince did exactly that.

No, he went beyond that by stopping in the middle of a prayer and used a musket, a mere decorative ornament, to produce an attack with enough killing power behind it.

Allen managed to accurately hit Count Fomor in the face.

Unfortunately, the attack itself seemed a bit lacking because the count managed to survive the hit. Allen Olfolse raised his shovel and tried to finish the job.

Both the Holy Emperor Kelt Olfolse and his grandson, Luan, thought the same thing while witnessing this spectacle.

‘There’s something here.’

‘There has to be something.’

Around that point in time, Luan passed out.

In the meantime, Kelt Olfolse blocked the Seventh Imperial Prince.