Chapter 1: Never Had There Been Such a Wonderful Opening
Bright morning light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting sunlight across the room.
Faust was adjusting his attire, and in the mirror there was reflected a young man of extraordinary charm.
His handsome face looked as though it had been meticulously sculpted by the Creator Himself.
His reddish-brown eyes were deep and captivating, and with the slightest press of his lips, an air of natural authority emerged without anger or effort.
His tall, upright figure was outlined by the close fit of his immaculate formal wear, which revealed clean lines of muscle. He looked powerfully built, yet not excessively bulky.
Though it was admittedly a little narcissistic to say so, Faust honestly felt that he looked exactly like a prince straight out of a fairy tale.
Ah, right. I really am a prince. Never mind, then.
Faust withdrew his gaze and walked to the French window, looking down over the city below the castle.
From the towering city walls and railway station in the distance, to the exquisite and magnificent palace nearby, to the countless orderly residences, academies, guilds, and more in between, it was every inch a flourishing metropolis.
This was the capital of the Kingdom of Cleartide. Once an ancient, outdated city, it had, under Faust’s painstaking governance, been transformed beyond recognition in no more than ten years.
Looking back on it now, he really had poured an astonishing amount of effort into it.
Yet whenever he thought of how every move he made could determine the fate of tens of thousands, Faust felt a joy that welled up from the depths of his heart, along with endless motivation.
Even without any cheat-like golden finger, as a transmigrator, Faust felt that his start in life was already close to perfection.
Just as he was savoring that sense of accomplishment, a maid’s voice came from behind him.
“Your Highness, it is time.”
“Yes. Let us go.”
With obvious reluctance, he pulled his gaze away and left the bedchamber.
The castle corridor was covered in a crimson carpet, and its soft texture made every step feel like a pleasure.
Tap, tap—
Yet just as he was about to enter the king’s bedchamber, Faust stopped at the foot of the steps.
Because at the top of those steps stood a young girl in a beige overcoat, setting down her suitcase.
Though the figure beneath her gauzy dress could only be described as indecently alluring, the chill in her bearing somehow neutralized it.
Her silver-gray hair was tied into a crisp ponytail behind her head.
Even so, the thick cascade of it still flowed down like a waterfall, hanging all the way to her waist.
In a voice as clear and flawless as carved crystal, she said flatly, “Faust…”
There was not the slightest emotional fluctuation in her even tone. She merely stood there in quiet elegance, like a cool beam of moonlight shining straight into a person’s heart.
The face beneath her veil possessed a pale, almost ethereal beauty. Under her faint lashes hid eyes as melancholy and green as emeralds; her nose traced an elegant line, and her lips were painted a soft, enticing cherry hue.
She looked like the exquisitely illustrated frontispiece of a fairy-tale book, bordered with wild roses and thorns, depicting a splendid princess living in seclusion in a castle—one that made people unable to resist turning the page to uncover the mystery of her story.
Ah, she really is a princess. Never mind, then.
This young girl, who radiated mystery from head to toe, was none other than the royal princess of the Kingdom of Cleartide, and Faust’s elder sister—Yosewood.
“Good day, Royal Sister.”
Faust placed one hand over his chest and greeted Yosewood.
“Put away that false smile of yours. If there is no reverence in your heart, then there is no need to cling to etiquette.”
Yosewood spoke coldly, her gaze traveling over Faust’s body. Though he had clearly been choked by that retort, he still maintained his slight bow of greeting. Only after quite some time did the silver-haired princess withdraw her gaze.
My royal sister is as stern as ever…
Faust sighed inwardly, but he was used to his sister’s temperament by now. She merely had a sharp tongue. She would not truly go any further than that.
“Has Father’s condition improved at all?”
He tried to raise another topic. Yosewood had quite clearly just come out of the king’s bedchamber.
“It is still the same… go in. Father is waiting for you. He wishes to discuss the matter of the heir apparent.”
The silver-haired princess gave a faint shake of her head, then turned her eyes aside, as though unwilling to say any more.
Well, that was hardly surprising. The two of them were rivals for the throne, after all. The taste of power was simply too exquisite. No one would surrender it lightly.
But such was always the way of succession struggles!
On this point, Faust would never retreat!
After steadying his emotions, Faust strode proudly into the king’s bedchamber. The moment he pushed open the door, a wave of heat rushed at his face. Even in the middle of autumn and winter, this level of warmth was a little excessive.
Against the walls stood two rows of bookshelves over three meters high, filled with a bewildering range of volumes. A long black walnut desk was piled high with official documents.
On the fireplace, a palm-sized iron pot was still heating. A dark brown medicinal broth bubbled continuously inside it, filling every corner of the room with the faint scent of herbs.
And reclining in a velvet lounge chair beside the fire was a white-haired old man, curled into the soft seat with a thick blanket draped over his legs. When he heard the footsteps, he set down the document in his hands and slowly turned his head.
Faust saw a pair of deeply sunken eye sockets, as though chiseled inward from flint, and wrinkled skin like a riverbed dried and cracked beneath a blazing sun.
And yet on that aged face was a pair of crimson eyes that struck fear into the heart, their gaze still as sharp as a hawk’s… fixed directly on Faust.
This was the founding monarch of the Kingdom of Cleartide, the hero whose illustrious military exploits had once been renowned throughout the land. Though plagued now by lingering illness, the force of his presence was still overwhelming.
The prince took a deep breath and bowed. “Father.”
“You have come. Cough, cough.”
The old king coughed twice. His voice was extremely low, yet it still carried an unmistakable authority that permitted no contradiction.
Faust said with concern, “Your complexion looks poor. Please take care of your health.”
“There is no need to worry. It is the same old ailment. Yosewood’s medicinal broth is quite effective. At the very least, it will not worsen any further.”
The old king waved a hand, then turned to the main matter. “Today is your twentieth birthday. By the traditions of the kingdom, once all heirs have reached adulthood, the heir apparent must be chosen. I called you here for precisely that reason.”
It is here!
Those direct words made Faust’s spirits surge. He clenched his fist and stared at the old king without blinking.
The old man rested his arms on his knees and said slowly, “You and Yosewood are both outstanding. Both of you are children of whom I am proud. Either of you possesses the bearing of a ruler. But there is only one throne, and I must choose the one most suited to it.”
Faust nodded and bowed his head. “I understand. Whatever choice you make, I will accept it gladly.”
For years, he had worked desperately to distinguish himself. The achievements he had made were such that any rational mortal king would undoubtedly choose him as heir apparent.
But even after the considerable accomplishments of the past few years, Faust still did not dare say with certainty that the throne would be his.
The reason was simple. Faust was not of the true royal bloodline. He was merely the king’s adopted son.
With such a fatal disadvantage hanging over him, how could he not be troubled?
After all, anyone would want to pass the throne to their own flesh and blood.
The king gazed silently at the prince. After a moment, he said, “There is no need for unease, child. With your intelligence, you should already understand. The position of heir apparent in Cleartide can only belong to you. There is no other possibility.”
The king’s calm, steady words put Faust at ease.
Even though he had long prepared himself for this, joy still showed plainly on his face. Guessing it was one thing. Truly confirming it was another.
Before hearing the king acknowledge it with his own lips, Faust had not dared allow himself absolute hope.
The old king studied the prince for a long moment, then suddenly said, “Are you surprised?”
Faust replied, “Not exactly. It is only… why did you not consider passing the throne to my royal sister?”
No matter how one looked at it, giving the throne to his own daughter would have been the most natural course. And as far as Faust knew, his father had never shown any inclination to favor sons over daughters.
The king let out two cold laughs. “Heh… Yosewood? She does not possess the disposition to be king. More importantly, she does not have your talent.”
I see. He chose the worthy, not the legitimate. That is fair enough.
Hearing that, Faust immediately lowered his head modestly and said, “Not at all. I have only done a little insignificant work. I am far inferior to my royal sister.”
Though he said so, a visibly pleased smile hung on the prince’s face.
Introducing advanced technology, reforming the government structure, rebuilding foreign trade… none of those achievements could be called earth-shattering revolutions, but each one had still been a bold and sweeping reform.
After all, he did not possess any cheat that let him industrialize the world with a whim. What he relied on was nothing more than his own diligence, breadth of knowledge, and self-discipline.
How could he not feel proud?
It absolutely could be done! Easily done!
“All of those trifling matters are irrelevant. They carry no real weight!”
Yet the old king shook his head and poured cold water over the prince’s pride. Sitting up straighter, he said, “Whether it was your reforms within the kingdom or your construction projects, those are not the reason I chose you… cough, cough, cough. Faust, do you remember what happened when you were a child? The night we first met?”
Faust at once pressed a hand solemnly to his chest. “Of course! Had it not been for your mercy, I would surely have died that night. I would never forget such kindness for as long as I live!”
After all, anyone who discovered that they were about to freeze to death in the snow the very moment they transmigrated would have found the memory unforgettable.
Just when Faust had thought he was about to die and start all over again, the royal hunting party had happened to pass by. The king had saved him and taken him in, and from then on he had risen from obscurity to the heights, becoming the prince of the Kingdom of Cleartide.
Because of that, Faust truly did respect and feel grateful toward the old man before him. He might not have been his biological father, but as an adoptive father he was beyond price.
Yet his sonorous declaration did not lead to any conventional display of paternal warmth. Instead, the old king rubbed his ring and smiled faintly. “Mercy? It had nothing to do with mercy.”
“Hm?”
“I did it deliberately, in accordance with a revelation. Otherwise, how could I have happened to pass by at that moment, and happened to save you?”
Faust let out a puzzled sound. “A revelation?”
The old king nodded and said in a grave voice, “When I was young, I bathed in blood and fought for the independence of the people of Cleartide, and thus founded the kingdom. Because of those achievements, I was once fortunate enough to receive…a blessing from the Fae.”
“A blessing from the Fae?!”
Faust’s eyes widened in astonishment, and he exclaimed in admiration, “Father, to think you encountered such a miracle. As expected of a legendary hero.”
It was no wonder the prince was so stirred. The words “the Fae” carried tremendous weight.
They were the oldest and most transcendent beings in this world. Though the Fae were not gods, in certain respects they differed little from them. Indeed, in some lands, the Fae were worshipped as gods.
In legend, the many miracles and opportunities bestowed by the Fae upon brave heroes had always been the sort of thing people spoke of with relish.
Faust had never imagined that his father had received a gift from the Fae as well. He had never mentioned it before.
But on further thought, it was not strange. The old king had once been a warrior of immense renown, and during the War of Independence that swept across the Empire decades ago, he had won extraordinarily brilliant victories. For the founder of a nation to receive the blessing of the Fae was only natural.
“Heh, it is all in the past now.”
Remembering those earlier years, even now, when pain and illness plagued him and the hero had entered his twilight, the old king could not help smiling with pride.
Then he drew in that smile, pulled back his sleeve, and revealed a faintly visible crimson contract sigil.
“This is the blessing granted by the Fae. Whoever bears it may use the contract to commune with the Fae, seek revelation, and obtain prophecy.”
“!!” Faust blurted out, “That is invincible.”
For a mortal, merely encountering the Fae was already a miracle. To sign a contract with them—what sort of concept was that?
Every nation in the world that had formed a stable contract with the Fae and received their protection and blessing was a hegemonic power of immense renown. To embrace the Fae was to embrace success.
And this was the Cleartide kingdom he was speaking of—surely that needed no explanation.
“Heh heh, is it truly so exaggerated?”
The king stroked his arm and looked at Faust meaningfully. “The contract I signed stipulates neither rights nor obligations. Whether I can communicate with them at all, and what sort of revelation I might obtain, depends entirely upon the Fae’s mood. Over these past decades, the favor I have received has been pitifully rare. I can only say that I am not especially beloved by the Fae.”
“If someone were truly cherished by the Fae, they would likely have many more opportunities.”
So in the end, he had merely obtained a way to contact them and then spent his time currying favor?
Faust immediately calmed down. If that was the case, then the contract was not all that extraordinary. Countless people prayed to the Fae. A contract without any binding force could only be said to be better than nothing.
“But even a mediocre man like me has received revelations before. And with the merit I accumulated in the years gone by, I made one request of the Fae.”
The old king coughed twice. His hawk-sharp gaze fell upon Faust. “Find a child who could be loved by the Fae, and make him my heir. If that were done, then perhaps this contract would finally become useful.”
You can do that?!
“!!” Faust stared at his father in shock, and as though hearing his thoughts, the latter explained,
“Yes, exactly as you imagine. I intend, here and now, to transfer my contract with the Fae to you.”
The king signaled for Faust to take hold of his arm.
Ordinarily, this would have been the moment for Faust to put on a show of modest refusal.
But before an adoptive father who knew him through and through, that sort of performance would only have been affected. More importantly… this gift was simply impossible to refuse.
So he took hold of the arm without the slightest hesitation.
And indeed, the sigil gradually faded from the king’s emaciated arm and surfaced upon Faust’s own body.
“Father… you seem to be in great haste.”
As Faust felt the burning heat of the brand and met his adoptive father’s gaze, the latter said slowly:
“The Empire’s internal strife is nearing its end. Soon, it will cast down its wrath and punishment upon those who once defied and betrayed it. And my former allies have grown estranged and disunited. The Kingdom of Cleartide has existed for only a few decades. It is still too frail. How could it hope to escape the conflicts to come?”
The old king lowered his eyes and let out a long sigh. “Who sits upon the throne is not what matters. What matters is that the Kingdom of Cleartide must become great. This nation… this kingdom I built with my own hands… it must not perish!”
At that moment, the transfer of the contract was complete. Faust placed a hand over his chest and bowed. “That is my ideal as well.”
A trace of kind warmth appeared in the old king’s eyes as he smiled. “I know. I have seen how deeply you value and love this kingdom.”
“In accordance with the laws and rites of the kingdom, I arranged a ball for you to choose a consort… It was my fault to arrange your marriage without first asking your wishes. This time, the ball will proceed as you desire. That is all. Go and do what you ought to do. I must rest for a while.”
With those words, the old king slumped back into the sofa and closed his eyes to recover his strength.
Seeing that, Faust did not disturb him any further. He took his leave and departed.
After coming out of the king’s bedchamber, Faust let out a long breath. At last, he no longer suppressed the smile on his face, and laughter escaped him in delight.
The process had been a little tense, but in the end he had achieved exactly what he wanted.
The position of heir apparent, the contract with the Fae… one could only say that never had there been such a wonderful opening!