A Tale of Strategies For the Throne - Chapter 8

Galran dared not linger on the road any longer, fearing to encounter more misfortune. He rushed back to the small palace by Crescent Pond as fast as smoke in the wind.

 

He had run so fast on the way back that he was exhausted. Standing next to a large, grey-white column, he propped one hand against the column, slightly bending over to catch his breath, his face reddened and sweaty.

 

As he was panting, two young boys who were talking walked by him. Upon noticing him, they halted their conversation. One of them shot a disdainful glance at Galran, then haughtily turned away, apparently too indolent to give him any attention. The other boy, who had a round face, seemed quite the opposite— he approached him with a sympathetic gaze.

 

Sympathy?

 

Galran, a bit puzzled, followed the line of the round-faced boy’s gaze. Then he found a half footprint on the side of his clothes and suddenly realized what happened.

 

Right. The bratty kids he ran away from had kicked him a few times when he wasn’t aware, leaving the footprint on his clothes. Probably, those bratty kids must have regularly bullied him before; all the people here knew it well. Seeing him panting and sweating so weakly now, others probably assumed he had been bullied again. That’s why the round-faced boy looked at him with such sympathy.

 

“Did Tal and his gang bully you again?”

 

“…”

 

No, this time they were bullied by me.

 

Although he thought this in his mind, Galran didn’t feel like explaining and didn’t have the patience to interact with a stranger. He simply lowered his head, pretending to be upset and remained silent.

 

The round-faced boy saw the kid, a head shorter than him, keeping his head low and remaining quiet, and felt even more pity. Although the kid was also of noble birth and belonged to a branch of the royal family, his different skin color made him stand out and become an odd one out among them.

 

Despite his fair and tender skin and adorable appearance, which drew immediate affection from the people, the kid had always been looked down upon by the others who arrived here earlier. They considered his mix of the low noble’s blood to have diluted the royal bloodline, and in public or privately, they often isolated him. As a consequence, other young boys who joined later also followed their suit and disdained him.

 

To make matters worse, the kid was stubborn and often reacted to bullying with a proud and indifferent attitude. This further invited hatred from others, resulting in heavier bullying.

 

Everyone found pleasure in picking on him and didn’t take him seriously. After all, all of them were royal nobles here and did not fear any consequences. Besides, the kid was so young and distinguished by his skin color that it was an open secret he was here merely as a number to meet the quota and had no chance of being chosen as a royal prince. Hence, they continued the bullying without any fear or reservation.

 

The round-faced boy looked at Galran with a somber gaze, a look of lofty pity and condescending sympathy. Galran caught his expression with one glance, hence, when the boy approached expressing kindness, he chose not to respond.

 

Seeing him stay silent, the round-faced boy just felt more sorry for him, thinking he was weak but still pitiful. He then immediately handed Galran his piece of bread and said, “You’ve missed mealtime, so you wouldn’t find anything if you go now. Have this to get by tonight.”

 

That was the bread he had taken after his meal, planning to feed the birds when he got back. But seeing the kid looking forlorn, he decided to give it to him.

 

No food left for him?

 

Galran was stunned, only then noticing the sun set in the west after the series of unfortunate events he endured.

 

After a moment, he accepted the bread.

 

With his cute looks and large eyes akin to gemstones, he was well-behaved and silent, standing there holding a big loaf of bread in his tiny hands resembling a little pet. His sweat-soaked pale golden hair softly stuck to his milky white cheeks making him look both pitiful and adorable. Even the boy who initially disdained him couldn’t resist throwing him another glance. The round-faced boy who offered him the bread went as far as to pat him on his head.

 

“Just endure one more day, and it will be over. You can go home tomorrow.”

 

After saying this, the boy left with his companion.

 

Neither this boy nor his companion, even the others, considered Galran important. They were all convinced that the title of the royal prince would never fall on this child with impure blood.

 

Upon hearing this, Galran’s heart jumped.

 

The implication from what the boy just said was…tomorrow was the day they chose the royal prince candidate from this group of young boys?

 

He instantly became anxious.

 

This was too fast. He had no time to do anything.

 

Would he be heading straight to the exam tomorrow?

 

He was completely unprepared, practically going in without any preparation. He couldn’t even find the direction for a last-minute review. How could he possibly be chosen as a royal prince in this state?

 

Thinking of this, he felt helpless.

 

Would his long journey end in failure before he could even take the first step?

 

Galran thought bitterly.

 

If he couldn’t become a royal prince, he wouldn’t have the right to inherit the throne.

 

If he had no right to inherit the throne, he couldn’t ascend the throne.

 

If he didn’t ascend the throne, Heymos would likely take it.

 

In that case, his destiny couldn’t be changed. His mission would still be a failure; the country would still be destroyed by the wrath of the gods and he would still be cursed by them, unable to grow up, life after life…

 

Even if he returned to his original world, he wouldn’t live very long.

 

Because he would die before turning eighteen.

 

The blonde child opened his mouth and bit into the loaf of bread in his hand fiercely as if it were Heymos, chewing it viciously.

 

He bit the bread while pondering his options on the way to his room.

 

No matter what, he had to find a way to become a royal prince.

 

If he failed to be chosen…

 

The child stopped biting the bread for a moment.

 

He suddenly stopped, staying motionless. His mouth maintained the odd position of biting without taking the whole bite off.

 

His pupils contracted sharply at this moment.

 

…If he wasn’t chosen?

 

……….

 

If he wasn’t chosen, he couldn’t become a royal prince.

 

If he didn’t become a royal prince, he wouldn’t have the right to inherit the throne.

 

As this strange thought flashed through his mind, Galran felt his heart pound rapidly.

 

Instinctively, he held his breath.

 

If he had no right to inherit the throne… would Heymos… still have a reason to kill him?

 

Galran clenched the loaf of bread in his hand with all his might, his fingers almost crushing it.

 

At this moment, his eyes lit up — he seemed to see a glimmer of hope brightening his otherwise bleak and doomed future.

 

It was gone.

 

The reason for him to be murdered was no more.

 

He wasn’t the prince, he had no right to ascend the throne, and thus Heymos wouldn’t kill him—

 

And then, he could live on!

 

……

 

Galran excitedly decided that this approach was quite feasible.

 

The so-called curse that claims he won’t live past eighteen was imposed on him by the gods only after this kingdom fell. That means the curse does not exist in his current life.

 

The reason he died in his previous four reincarnations was because he was killed while fighting for the throne with Heymos, not because of the curse.

 

Moreover from the start, he had no interest in competing for the throne. Had it not been for the voice telling him that he could not live long if he could not correct the course of fate, he would never have engaged in this kind of thing that he was not good at.

 

To begin with, his only goal was not to die.

 

If it was just for the sake of survival, turning the situation around, he now had another way to stay alive.

 

As long as he was not the prince, and not competing with Heymos for the throne.

 

Then, he could live in this world, as Galran, under the most ordinary identity of a royal sideline, with a peaceful survival.

 

He was no match for Heymos.

 

Galran was well aware of this.

 

It was not a matter of ability, but of desire.

 

He lacked the strong desire that Heymos had.

 

He didn’t know the reason, but he realized that Heymos had an immensely strong desire for the throne – one so ferocious it seemed he would stop at nothing to get it.

 

An obsession bordering on madness.

 

This insane obsession enabled Heymos to be christened in blood without hesitation, to tread on the corpses piled high beneath him, to traverse the road paved with bones, to sit on that blood-stained throne.

 

That, he could not do.

 

He could not beat this madman.

 

Hence, time and again, his downfall was inevitable.

 

…

 

While lost in thought, Galran had returned to his lodging.

 

Lying on the bed, he blankly stared at the ceiling.

 

To tell the truth, he didn’t quite understand what the so-called gods were thinking. Why did they insist on him ascending to the throne? Why should this so-called fate dictate that he becomes the king of this kingdom?

 

He had always felt that in all honesty, Heymos might be more suited to sit on that throne…

 

A strong, ambitious, and aspirational king was not a bad thing for the kingdom.

 

Moreover, though outsiders always rumored that Heymos was brutal and would surely become a tyrant in the future, Galran, as his opponent, knew that Heymos’ cruelty and tyranny were only directed towards enemies and that he never harmed the common people.

 

In the spacious bed, the child nestled in the soft bedding, shutting his eyes and letting out a sigh of relief.

 

“Let it be,” he thought.

 

He was no match for Heymos, so he would stay away from Heymos.

 

If he didn’t possess the power to alter fate, then the divine messenger should find his other reincarnations to fulfill this mission.

 

“Heymos, after today, you’ll continue your journey as a prince, while I return to my homeland. From this life onward, we are no longer intertwined.”

 

…

 

…

 

Ah, what a nice day.

 

Standing in the courtyard, the morning sun was bright yet not harsh. A breeze carrying the cool remnants of the night swept across the crescent-shaped pond, bringing a moist scent, gently breezing under the sky.

 

The child basking in the sunlight tilted his head to gaze at the endless azure sky. His flaxen hair, like soft catkins, fluttered, reflecting a faint golden sheen.

 

Having firmly decided to renounce the throne, Galran naturally felt no tension. He stepped onto the staircase, looking at the windflowers at the edge of the pond that swayed in the wind, either white or pale violet. The relaxed Galran stretched lazily, feeling elated.

 

Even the looks of neglect or disdain from others around him couldn’t dampen his good mood. “Why bother with these brats?” he thought. “After today, everyone will go their own way, and who knows if we’ll meet again in this life?”

 

Galran, already planning how to behave normally in front of his ‘relatives’ when he returns to that ‘home’, didn’t notice the watchful eyes of some teens behind him, their eyes gleaming with anticipation of something amusing to come.

 

Suddenly, someone charged from behind, causing him to stumble. With the staircase right beneath his feet, he slipped and began to fall.

 

Galran quickly saw a chubby boy standing at the top of the steps smirking at him.

 

“Fatty!” He cursed in his heart, then braced himself for the imminent fall.

 

However, just as he was prepared to face the embarrassment of falling flat on his face, he didn’t hit the ground. As he stumbled from the steps, his back collided with someone.

 

Then, a pair of hands held his shoulders, steadying him.

 

Galran sighed in relief and turned to thank the person who saved him.

 

But as he turned and saw the person standing behind him, his eyes widened, and the words of gratitude got stuck in his throat.

 

Before he could react, he was lifted off the ground.

 

“Does your foot still hurt?” asked the teenager with an adolescent husky voice, not particularly soothing, but gentle.

 

The lifted Galran looked at the familiar face before his eyes, and those gold-red eyes filled with concern. For a moment he was overwhelmed with mixed emotions.

 

Now, there was still light in those golden-red eyes. But eight years from now, these eyes would be consumed by darkness, like they were drowning in hell.

 

Galran couldn’t help but ponder.

 

What on earth happened during these eight years that transformed this young man before his eyes into a brutal and ruthless being, an evil presence, that struck fear in people’s hearts?

 

Translator Footnotes:

 

“Fast as smoke in the wind”: is a Chinese expression indicating something or someone moving very fast.

 

The name “塔爾” is Romanized to “Tal” using the Chinese pinyin system. Please note that actual pronunciation can differ based on regional dialects and contexts.

 

王弟 (wáng dì) is a title, meaning ‘royal prince’. Finally, 王座 (wáng zuò) refers to ‘the throne”.

 

“Windflowers” – a kind of flowering plant common in Asia, it represents waiting and messages in Chinese culture, symbolizing the expectation or hope one might have for others.

 

The phrase “consumed by darkness, like they were drowning in hell” is a metaphor suggesting a significant negative change in the character’s personality. It implies a series of unfortunate events that led to this character descending into the metaphorical “hell,” thereby manifesting a kind of inner darkness.