I Became the Youngest Prince in the Novel

Chapter 1: Prologue

The room was large enough to be mistaken for a banquet hall, but it held only the bare essentials for living.

Swoosh-

Inside that room, a man sat in an antiquated chair made of black wood, flipping through the pages of a book.

His eyes followed the characters relentlessly as the pages turned.

The man was known by many titles:

The First Emperor.

The Iron-Blooded Emperor.

The World's Ruler.

The Conqueror.

The Demon Emperor.

The Black Star Emperor.

From the fairy forests of the West.

To the beast seas of the East.

And up to the giant hordes of the North.

With his overwhelming military power and a charisma that sent shivers down spines, he devoured every country on Earth, except the Demon Territory, weaving them together into a grand empire known as 'Agnes'.

He was the true king of the world.

All beings worshipped and feared him.

"This is pathetic," the man said, his voice faint.

He had finally turned the last page of the book he had been reading.

The Chronicles of the Hero of Frosimar.

That was the title of the book.

It was nothing more than a heroic novel commonly circulated in the world, a book he had stumbled upon in the library.

How such a book found its way into the palace was a mystery.

But this book, set hundreds of years in the future, had caught his interest because it depicted his own empire, Agnes, as it was.

Moreover, its realistic descriptions and detailed narratives made it feel as if they were depicting actual future events.

In particular, the descriptions of various regions, including the royal palace, were so vivid and lifelike, as if they were based on real experiences.

However, he didn't like the ending.

Most novels about a hero's journey ended with the annihilation of a destined enemy, a Demon King.

But this book portrayed the failure of the hero, not his success.

The hero met a tragic death without being able to eliminate the Demon King, and as a result, the world was destroyed by the Demon King and his forces.

The most crucial reason for this occurrence was the empire's downfall.

Even as the world crumbled, both the empire and humanity were solely focused on their own interests.

In the end, the hero embarked on a journey to the Demon Territory without receiving any support from the fragmented and fallen empire.

"I've just wasted my time."

Especially considering the empire's collapse, it was a pitiful novel that couldn't even be called third-rate.

His perfect memory, which retained everything after a single reading, almost felt regrettable.

The emperor closed the book immediately, as if it wasn't worth lingering over, and a deep sense of boredom and fatigue settled in his eyes.

It was a sensation that always clung to him like a shadow, now that he had everything in the world within his grasp.

There was nothing left to conquer, no territory left to seize.

"......"

And so, the emperor, with a gaze of boredom fixed on 'Chronicles of Frosimar's Hero' laid before him, slowly closed his eyes.

* * *

In the tranquil palace, only the faint moonlight illuminated the surroundings.

Thud!

A stoic-looking, aged knight with stern eyes and tightly sealed lips hurried through the palace corridors.

"Huff, huff!"

Rough breaths escaped the knight's mouth ceaselessly, as if he had already reached his limit.

Despite his age, he could have run for an hour on his own, but on the knight's back lay an unconscious man, not moving an inch.

"Why... why is this happening!"

The old knight's eyes trembled as if he couldn't comprehend the situation.

The palace, cloaked in darkness, remained unusually quiet.

But it shouldn't have been.

Not at this moment.

Because the man on his back, breathing precariously, was the ruler of this palace and the prince of the grand empire, Agnes.

"Is there no one to protect His Highness!"

Despite the prince being pursued by assassins within the palace, the royal guards, instead of safeguarding him, were nowhere to be seen.

Not only that, the magical barriers and traps that normally activated when intruders entered were not triggered at all.

"...Sir Fredo? Who is the person on your back..."

Just then, a maid who had been inspecting the extinguished magic lamps in the palace ahead noticed the old knight rushing towards her. She wore a puzzled expression, her eyes widening upon seeing the prince on his back.

Thud!

The old knight, without even having time to respond, swiftly passed by the maid, who was left with a fleeting regret in her eyes.

As the knight's figure grew distant...

Swish!

A silver flash sliced through the air from the darkness, and the maid's head fell to the ground.

'Prince Zion....'

In the old knight's exhausted state, a faint vision of a man with a faint smile appeared in his mind.

He was the lord of the knight, one who had been pushed out of the competition for the throne due to his congenitally weak body and delicate nature, practically banished.

And now, those who had imprisoned his lord were trying to take his lord's life.

A life worse than that of ordinary people, filled with utter misery.

The old knight couldn't bear to see his lord meet such a fate.

He had to protect him, no matter what.

'This cannot continue.'

Bam!

With that thought, the old knight bit his lip, abruptly halted, and kicked open the door to the adjacent reception room.

He carefully laid the prince on the long sofa inside and blocked the entrance to the room.

He had made up his mind to establish a defensive line and fight, before his stamina was completely depleted.

Without uttering a word, the assassins pursuing the knight charged at him.

Clash!

Swords clashed, releasing bursts of light.

However, despite his firm resolve, the old knight's sword was unable to halt the assassins' advance.

Two of the assassins pinned the old knight, pushing him back, while the rest stormed through the open door toward the prince.

"Your Highness!"

The old knight, as if willing to sacrifice his own life, turned his back on the assassins he was battling and leapt toward the prince.

However, the assassins proved to be swifter than the knight.

Thud!

With footwork as light as walking on water, one of the assassins swiftly reached the unconscious prince, raising his sword.

The assassin's eyes appeared devoid of any emotion.

He held no interest in who the man before him was or why he needed to be killed.

He was merely fulfilling a commission.

Finally, the assassin's sword descended toward the prince's heart.

"No!"

In that instant, a cry resembling a wail burst from the mouth of the old knight, Fredo.

And then...

Everyone present witnessed it.

The target of the assassin— the prince's heart.

The tip of the sword came to a halt, unable to advance any further, right in front of that heart.

Screech!

It seemed frozen in space.

Despite the assassin's temples bulging with exertion, the tip of the sword remained motionless.

"...!"

At this peculiar sight, the other assassins' eyes began to waver for the first time.

Slowly but surely, the unconscious prince opened his eyes.

His gaze was tranquil and languid, akin to a still surface of a lake undisturbed by even the slightest breeze.

It was a look that had never been seen in him before.

Gradually...

Using his finger, the prince pushed away the tip of the assassin's sword in front of his heart, rising to his feet and scanning the room with his eyes.

As if he sought to comprehend fully what had just occurred.

"Prince... Zion?"

The old knight's perplexed voice flowed from his mouth as he beheld the prince's completely altered and unfamiliar appearance.

"Kill him."

Thud!

Only then did the assassins regain their composure and rush toward the prince once more.

The prince, with eyes that remained indifferent, as if the situation held no concern for him, observed the assassins closing in on him.

Just as the assassins swiftly arrived in front of him, ready to strike at his neck...

Swoosh-

The surrounding darkness flickered.

And then...

Pop!

One after another, the heads of the assassins rushing toward him began to burst.

Shortly after, the headless bodies of the assassins dropped lifelessly to the floor, their bright red blood staining the floor.

What in the world is happening?

"...."

The old knight gazed at his lord with a dumbfounded expression, unable to comprehend the situation.

Observing the knight and the room growing increasingly stained with blood...

"This is quite amusing."

The Iron Emperor residing within Prince Zion, or rather, Emperor Zion, smiled faintly

***

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