Chapter 122

Name:Crown Prince Sells Medicine Author:
Chapter 122

This individual, the highly regarded military officer, must be out of his mind.

The spy was becoming increasingly apprehensive. Nonetheless, Raciels impulsiveness seemed boundless.

Hey, lets really think about this, shall we? Youre the one who extended an offer to me, suggesting that I switch sides. This isnt a matter to be taken lightly, correct?New novel chapters are published on

Well, thats true, but

But consider this: its also an immensely weighty decision for me, isnt it? Id have to betray the side Ive aligned with thus far and join your ranks. That entails significant risks for me. It could fundamentally alter my life, wouldnt you agree?

Of course, yes, thats correct.

Exactly.

Indeed.

So why arent the terms clearly defined?

If Im going to take the risk and make a decision, shouldnt there be well-established criteria or data indicating which choice would be most advantageous, which one would yield greater benefits, or whether it might ultimately lead to a disastrous outcome that turns my life into a nightmare?

Thats how you assess things, right? Dont you engage in comparisons when making purchases in the market?

Of course, I do.

Isnt that right? Even when buying the same type of cream bread at a bakery, you carefully observe which one is larger and make your choice accordingly. Why? To get more for the same price. But now, youre presenting an offer to me thats worse than that of a local bakery?

Thats because

Because what?

I sincerely apologize.

Does offering an apology solve everything?

No.

So whats your plan?

I willprepare.

Ugh.

The spy winced.

Raciels eyes gleamed with scrutiny.

If you do this again, just prepare without considering the consequences, will that be enough?

What should I

Be specific about what youre going to prepare. Right now.

Now? Should I say it now?

Obviously.

Fluff.

Raciel comfortably settled onto the bed, tilted his chin slightly, and fixed his gaze on the spy. His eyes seemed to convey, Go ahead, brief me.

The spy found himself caught in Raciels confident demeanor. Stumbling over his words, he began to brief as though reporting to a superior.

Um, first as you mentioned, I will prepare the exact monetary compensation youll receive upon joining the revolutionary army. The total amount will encompass the provided mansion, land, and various valuables.

The spy tried to articulate carefully and finally concluded his statement. He felt a sense of accomplishment. He believed he hadnt stuttered much and did reasonably well.

However, his self-satisfaction was shattered by the frown that crept onto Raciels forehead.

Ugh, this guy.

Listen, do I strike you as someone who can be easily swayed just by discussing money?

Of course not

Right. Exactly.

I appreciate the direct approach with money. Keep going.

I will also outline the rank, honors, and the actual treatment youll receive within the revolutionary army.

What about safety precautions?

I will, of course, take care of that as well. This includes escorts, security measures, and even servants to attend to you.

Is that all?

Huh?

Is there more?

The spy desperately racked his brain. Raciels lips curved into a knowing smirk.

Confirmation that all the conditions weve just discussed have been approved by your highest authority.

Yes.

If you present conditions without that, I wont even consider them. Do you understand?

Yes, I do.

Lets make sure of it this time, okay?

Ill keep that in mind.

Good. Now, go and get to work.

Demian reluctantly nodded. Gardin continued to dab at his eyes with his handkerchief.

A few days passed. Raciel made preparations for their departure. He met with the spy each night, negotiating the terms of his recruitment.

In the meantime, he sent a letter to Princess Adeline. In it, he wrote that he felt his work here was complete, and he planned to return to Magentano Star Palace. He filled the pristine white paper with vivid, but untrue, details.

In the postscript, he added,

[Theres a specially made giant-sized Orc barrel in the healing camp warehouse. It contains liquor and the corpse of the Vesparos queen bee. Please have it shipped to Magentano. That will be sufficient to express your gratitude.]

With this, Ill be able to enjoy my carefully brewed queen bee liquor.

Chirp.

Raciel licked his lips and sent off the letter. He completed his preparations to leave the healing camp.

Early the next morning, he left a letter for the camps medical officers on his tent bed. Then he secretly departed the camp with Gardin and Demian. They met with the rebel spy on the camps outskirts.

Its an honor to have you. Ill guide you from here.

They followed the spy.

They disguised themselves as Free Traders and traveled for about three days, avoiding the points of conflict between the royal army and the rebels.

They crossed mountains and rivers.

Traversed plains.

Finally, they reached the foothills where Balua Fortress came into view. The main force of the rebel army was gathered there. The party was immediately directed to the center of the rebel base.

Right this way.

A high-ranking officer from the headquarters welcomed them. They followed the officer, and Raciels heart began to beat faster, bit by bit.

Whew, I prepared myself, but its still nerve-wracking.

Raciel took a deep breath. There was no chance of his identity being discovered here. The disguise magic by Zanetis, the magician of the royal palace, was potent. Furthermore, he knew he wasnt in danger in this place. At least, he could be certain of that.

In the novel Devil Sword Emperor, thats how it was. Javillon, Anbouazs fiercely patriotic revivalist. He had an enormous ambition for recruiting talent.

Javillon treated everyone fairly, regardless of their background or social status. Whether it was gold or jade, he valued and respected it. He truly was a person free from prejudice, especially when it came to strengthening the country and the army.

Thats why he could have toppled the Empire.

Now, he was going to meet such an extraordinary figure. His heart rate began to speed up, as if he were going to a job interview.

Finally, he arrived at the center of the headquarters. The door opened. At the end of the long curtain, a man sat as if he ruled the place.

Standing at easily over 190 cm tall, he had a fittingly imposing physique. Surprisingly, he had a dignified face, a figure he had seen several times in illustrations in the novel. He was the leader of the rebels, Javillon Flamberg Anbouaz.

Seeing someone in a picture and facing them in reality were vastly different experiences, especially when that person was no ordinary being.

He felt overwhelmed as soon as he met him. A strange feeling, as if he were both human and something else. If one were to peel off a layer from his face, it felt like the faces of an angel and a demon would be revealed, half and half.

Just then, Javillons gaze fixed upon him. Their eyes locked. He flinched. Javillon suddenly stood up and walked toward him, without hesitation, without giving him a chance to prepare mentally.

He reached out his hands.

Touched his shoulders.

Nice to meet you. And thank you, the military officer called a saint.

The gaze looking down at him as he gently held his shoulders was intense. He thought he should avoid it, but he couldnt turn his eyes away. The pressure was immense.

However, Raciel was not entirely overwhelmed. Just as he was on the verge of succumbing to the pressure, he remembered the most intense pressure he had faced in his life.

That was when he had encountered the building owner in the hallway of his medical clinic, over rent and money.

Compared to that day, the pressure from Javillon was nothing. As he thought that, the overwhelming feeling dissipated. The pressure disappeared.

Thanks to that, he could muster a faint smile and respond comfortably.

Im also pleased to meet you, the heart of the revolution.

Good.

He answered naturally.

So, just one more month. Earn some extra life by treating the wounded soldiers and then vanish. He felt content with that plan.

But then, Javillon, who still towered over him, smiled meaningfully.

Excellent. Im delighted that youre willing to join my cause. From now on, you, a saintly military officer, wont have to engage in the perilous work of handling the blood of ordinary soldiers.

Excuse me?

What did that mean?

A sense of unease washed over him. Javillons smile grew warmer.

From now on, Im going to entrust you with a more vital and noble task. Specifically, youll be declaring to the world that someone as noble as you supports the spirit of my revolution.

So, lets build a new world together.

What do you think? Isnt it fantastic?

Fantastic?

No, this seems all messed up.

(To be Continued)

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