The Crown Prince In Hiding

“You once said… I could ask one question a day, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then may I ask… if all the victories I’ve fought so hard to obtain hold no value at all… then what does?”

Or perhaps I should rephrase it.

Mr.Fury… in your eyes, is there anything about me that can be called a success?

Rafinya’s question plunged the entire camp into silence.

She asked without meeting anyone’s eyes. She did not look at him. Her head remained lowered, both hands resting on her lap.

Dan glanced at his wife, Casca Saint Maximin. From her expression, he could guess what kind of answer she wished him to give—one that would preserve the girl’s feelings as gently as possible.

But he was honest with himself.

“I measure success by results, not applause,” he said.

“Your past achievements ... If that is what humans count as success, Who am I to judge? But for me… those successes are not yet reliable.”

In other words, Fury acknowledged her effort—yet he still did not count it as success by his own understanding.

“Your journey has never truly been challenged by defeat. You’ve never carried pressure beyond losing face or staining a record. You’ve never struggled to survive. Never borne responsibility for the lives of subordinates. You have succeeded—but your success exists in a simulated arena.”

This time, Casca noticed Dan’s words were less piercing than before.

Perhaps because she had already scolded him for raising his voice at Rafinya previously. He was trying, at least somewhat, to temper his tone.

Could Casca have answered in his place? Certainly. She could have spoken harsher and more directly if she wished.

But she understood that doing so would only harm Rafinya. Pride that is too high, if shattered violently, does not strengthen—it collapses.

Rafinya was another patient Dan needed to treat.

He had to chip away at her pride slowly—not rip it apart until nothing remained.

Casca understood well… on the day he transformed, Rafinya’s pride had already cracked deeply.

“Your power simply hasn’t yet been appraised by the real world.”

“And when will you start counting my success?”

“When you have to pay something you can never take back.”

Something you must exchange for that success.

“For Diablo to unite as one, I paid dearly… In war as well, I paid a great deal. That is the price of the success that kept Diablo alive.”

“…What was the price?”

“My people.”

His subordinates.

The lives of Diablo’s citizens.

And his grandmother—cast onto that island by forbidden magic on that day.

Nora swallowed hard. Rafinya did as well.

On this matter, Casca understood better than anyone—and she understood that Fury bore far heavier responsibility than she ever had.

She commanded only a battalion from the district of Hope of Brighton.

Fury held absolute authority over the entire army of Diablo.

Which meant every life lost could be pointed at and said to be the result of his decision.

“Mr.Fury… and then—”

“Oh ho” Zeedee interrupted, wagging her finger. “One question per day. Don’t try to sneak another.”

Rafinya stiffened and returned to her composed posture, hands clasped together.

“It’s fine,” Dan said.

“It’s her first time. I’ll grant a special quota—one more question.”

Rafinya’s eyes widened as she looked up at him.

“Ask what you want before I change my mind.”

“When you transformed… I…”

She clenched her fists.

“…It was the first time I ... felt like a pitiful weakness.”

Whether fear of his appearance.

Or fear of dying herself.

“And for you… what was the first event that made you feel ‘fear’?”

Nora’s eyes widened.

“…My first fear?”

Dan thought for a moment, then turned to his wife and gently held her arm.

“Shall we let Casca answer this one?”

Casca sat quietly, turning the question over in her mind.

“…Very well.”

The first time I felt fear… was not when I rode into battle. Back then, my heart was so pure in believing I fought for the Lord that I never even considered my own life had value. So my fear did not come from fearing death in war.

She paused.

“My first fear came when I realized… I did not hate my enemies enough to kill them.”

The day you can no longer feel hatred toward those labeled as the enemy—

War ceases to be righteousness.

It becomes tragedy.

Casca spoke honestly, without shame. Nora could not tell what memories Casca was revisiting as she spoke.

“It’s strange, isn’t it? Sometimes thoughts appear in our minds on their own. I wonder whether we truly think them… or whether something sends them to us.”

She continued,

“And once I realized that, each passing day changed my perspective. I no longer felt I was riding out to fight evil enemies. I felt I was leading hundreds of my men to die in a battlefield none of us ever wanted to be in—neither our side nor theirs. And I could not stop.”

Seeing the expressions on the girls’ faces, Casca understood they might not yet be at an age to fully grasp it.

That, at least, was a good thing.

“Rafinya… fear is not a symbol of weakness. It is proof that your heart is still human. Otherwise, the Lord would not have given the ability to fear alongside the ability to love.”

The day you can no longer feel fear—

That is the day you should truly be afraid.

Casca answered from the perspective of faith.

However, Fury offered another angle.

“For me, fear is not shameful. It is a necessary tool for survival.”

The focus shifted to him.

“Like thorns or hardened armor we use to fight—fear is something installed for us to use.”

Whether it was the result of evolution or not, Fury’s perspective differed from his wife’s.

“I agree with Professor Darwin’s idea. Fear allows living beings to survive. Those who survive pass this ability to the next generation. Those without fear do not survive long enough to pass anything on. That is why you do not see creatures devoid of fear walking this world.”

So your fear is not pitiful to me.

You all originate from those who survived because they feared.

How could you ever escape it?

“Returning to your question—perhaps you’ll be disappointed. Most of my fear in life isn’t like Casca’s. Mine is simple. I am afraid of dying.”

Just like you.

That means every time I went to war, there was never a single moment I was not afraid.

Unlike Casca, whose faith erased her fear of death, Fury feared death more than anything—by instinct, as a living being created to protect a nation.

If he died, Diablo would face the risk of extinction.

From birth, that program was embedded in his DNA.

“The first time I truly felt the fear of death… I don’t remember what I was fighting. There were too many. I’ve forgotten.”

He elaborated.

“When I was gathering the scattered powers of the so-called ‘demons’ around the island into one force, I had not yet reached a fully developed form.”

He made air quotes each time he said “demons.”

“That meant every day, traveling north and south to subdue territory holders, I faced enemies whose forms I could not predict. Different sizes. Different abilities. Some flew. Some lived in water. Some burrowed underground. Some were faster. Some venomous. Some attacked in swarms. Some swallowed me whole and crushed me between massive molars. The list never ends.”

My limbs were torn apart tens of thousands of times. My joints shattered. My eyes, fangs—even my organs were ripped out until it felt normal.

You see our armor as hard as iron now—but that layering could not have formed without regrowth. And regrowth could not happen without pain that nearly killed me… or defeat.

In another sense—

The more Fury was injured, if he survived, the stronger he returned.

And the environment of Diablo before unification was a furnace that forged him.

How many times had he crossed the line of death to stand here now?

“Every time that happened, I feared death more than anything. And because I feared it… the only option was to win.”

“Brat like you—if it were the old prince, he’d have ripped your head clean off.”

Freya spoke as witness to the past, when Fury had been ten times more ruthless than he was now.

Otherwise, he could not have controlled the demon army.

Otherwise, he could not have become the kingdom’s primary weapon of unification.

They were fortunate he now stood in a far calmer phase of life.

Had this been during the height of war—

It was difficult to imagine what he would have been like.

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