Chapter 18: The Path of the Hero King
“Haa—”
Casting Mephistopheles’ plan involving the Fallen Dragon out of his mind, Faust decided not to ask about it for the time being and reached out to push open the doors to the bedchamber.
It was still that same warm, dimly lit study. The difference was that the medicinal smell in the room had grown even stronger, so pungent that Faust could not help coughing twice.
“Good day, Father.”
The Prince of Qingxi stepped forward twice and greeted the old man lying on the cushioned bed.
The old king, who had originally been resting with his eyes closed, slowly opened them and glanced at the prince. “Faust… my child, what is it?”
The king slowly straightened himself and said, “I heard you stayed with Vivianna for quite a long time. You lingered there for months, unable to leave. Did you not dislike that child? You even broke off the engagement over it, leaving both me and my old friend thoroughly embarrassed.”
“How could I not like her? I like her very much!”
Faust hurriedly denied it. No matter what had happened in the past, if anyone now claimed he felt nothing for Vivianna, the Prince of Qingxi would argue with them on the spot!
“It is precisely because these feelings matter so much that I could not accept a political marriage so casually. I could not peacefully inherit the bond of the previous generation and force it onto ours. Only by spending time together in person could I truly understand my own heart.”
“I see. So you’ve already thought it through.”
Faust’s excuse was beautifully crafted, and the old king accepted it. Clapping his hands, he said, “Good. Vivianna is a good child. The throne of Qingxi was always partly the Roselin family’s by right. Ah, if they had still been alive back then, it should never have been us carrying the name of Qingxi.”
Seeing his expensive foster father about to begin reminiscing bitterly and fondly over the glories of the past again, Faust knew full well that once the man got going, there would be no stopping him for hours.
In the past, for the sake of winning Father’s favor, the prince would certainly have listened attentively.
But now there were more important matters at hand, so Faust immediately interrupted him. “By the way, about the throne… Father, there is something I want to discuss with you.”
“What is it?”
“I… cannot become Qingxi’s king.”
Bang—
At those words, the old king slammed a palm onto the table, and the expensive marble desk instantly shattered into pieces.
Faust’s eyelids twitched at the sight. As expected of a legendary warrior—even at such an advanced age…
Even with his body already weakened to this extent, the explosive force of a casual strike was still not to be underestimated.
The king braced himself on the armrest and rose to his feet. His crimson eyes, like those of an aged hawk, fixed directly on Faust. “My child… what did you just say?”
“I do not intend to ascend the throne.”
Under his father’s displeased gaze, Faust forced himself to explain, “But that does not mean I am giving up on leading the Kingdom of Qingxi. It is only that… for certain reasons, it would be best if I did not truly become king, and instead remained Regent Prince indefinitely.”
Was this not redundant? Faust already possessed authority equal to that of the king. What difference would it make whether or not he wore the crown?
But the difference was enormous. Of everything Faust possessed, aside from the constitution personally designated by Mephistopheles as the “one loved by witches,” the most valuable thing about him was precisely the identity of “prince.”
The King of Qingxi did not know this, but after frowning, he seemed to think of something. “Is this… Her Excellency’s will?”
“You could put it that way.”
Faust boldly raised Mephistopheles’ banner.
To the traditionally minded King of Qingxi, a fairy spirit was no different from a god. The endorsement of a fairy spirit was equivalent to a divine oracle.
Do you have any idea how useful a fairy spirit contract is?!
Sure enough, the moment he heard it was “the guidance of the fairy spirit,” the king’s expression instantly improved. He sat back down and returned to the lazy posture of an old man.
Faust continued, “And also… I may end up spending long periods of time outside the country.
So I plan to share authority with my elder sister. During the months I was absent, it was she who helped handle state affairs. I have looked through everything—she is fully capable of doing this job.”
This was also one of the unexpected delights the prince had discovered during this period. He had originally thought that Yoshewood, who had always shown no interest in affairs of state, would not care about such matters. Yet she turned out to be astonishingly skilled in them.
Not only that, she had also left suggestions on the projects Faust cared about.
How should he put it? It was as though he himself had written them. Their line of thinking was nearly identical. Without long-term attention and careful thought, there was no way she could have achieved such an effect.
As for the sweeping reforms Faust had carried out, Yoshewood had never given them any positive evaluation. More precisely, she had mocked almost everything he did with cold sarcasm.
Things like, “So eager for quick success—how ugly,” “You are drowning in power and sinking far too deep,” and “Shameless, vulgar creature—are your thoughts filled with nothing but monkey-like desires?” Those criticisms were practically personal attacks already.
Who would have thought she had studied things so deeply in private? As for why, Faust had no idea.
The old king stroked his whitening beard and let out an understanding chuckle. “I see. So the path Her Excellency is guiding you toward is the path of the Hero King.”
The Hero King?
Faust had not thought that far ahead. His reason for suggesting that he spend more time abroad was mainly to leave himself a back door.
Because under normal circumstances, if he remained in the Kingdom of Qingxi all the time, he would basically never leave the framework of the “Cinderella” script.
If he wanted to introduce variables into the script, the best way was to do things he normally never would.
The king spoke with calm certainty. “My child, what do you think is needed to lead a kingdom to rise?”
Faust thought for a moment and answered, “Train the army, encourage production, reform the system, expand trade routes, and maintain balance with all sides?”
These were exactly the things Faust had worked hard to do. Governing a great nation was like cooking a delicate dish. Although the Kingdom of Qingxi was not large, ruling it was not easy in the slightest. Over the past ten years, the prince had poured out his heart and mind day after day, painstakingly pushing the small independent kingdom toward increasing prosperity.
“That is indeed one path. But with only that, Qingxi would never truly stand independent. My child, do you think I am some sage skilled in governance?”
Of course not. Quite the opposite. As a king born from the ranks of warriors, Faust’s expensive foster father had tried desperately to learn, yet over decades his governance of the kingdom remained… difficult to evaluate.
The high-emotional-intelligence phrasing would be: he governed through nonaction and ruled all under heaven by doing little.
The blunt phrasing would be: he accomplished nothing, stayed very busy, and yet no one knew what exactly he was busy with.
The old king said evenly, “There is another path. That is to ascend to the peak of the path of the ‘Hero’—to accomplish great deeds through a charisma that can unite people’s hearts, martial valor that wins every battle, and the fortune of one favored by destiny.”
“In order to advance in mysticism, some heirs to royal thrones leave their kingdoms to explore magical realms, fight and adventure, punish the wicked, and uphold justice. Some even achieve legends under the guidance of fairy spirits and are praised by the world.”
“That is the Hero King of divine kingship—one who rules a kingdom through absolute personal power and charisma.”
In short, supreme power belonged to the self.