Chapter 302 - 225: Henry, Lifelong Nemesis (2)
"Henry is passionately adored by the Legion soldiers. Their cheers for him were loud enough to shake the entire camp," the informant described the scene, his voice tinged with disbelief.
The First Prince’s expression went from dark to livid. He never imagined that a mere Baron could command such prestige within the army.
’Son of a bitch, does Henry pay your salaries? What the hell are you cheering for him for?!’
’Damn it, a mere Baron, adored by so many soldiers... what is he planning?’
The First Prince slammed his fist on the table, his voice full of resentment.
"And, and..."
"And what? Spit it out!"
The informant glanced at the First Prince, lowered his head, and said, "Countess Ratifa has been paying attention to Henry. She was very happy when he appeared."
BANG!
"Ratifa Villarreal!"
The First Prince slammed his fist on the table again, instantly seeing red.
He had originally planned to use Ratifa to control the Northern Lands, turning this rich and fertile territory into his own sphere of influence.
He had even chosen to place the border camp north of Tiyaer specifically to be closer to Ratifa, hoping to consolidate his power through a marriage alliance.
’Ratifa is so perfect: young, beautiful, holds a high title, has a large fief, is wealthy, and unmarried.’
But now, all his plans seemed to have been ruined by Henry!
’Not only is Henry winning battle after battle and enjoying such high prestige among the soldiers, but it also seems he has something special going on with Ratifa!’
This left him feeling deeply defeated. ’Why him? I’m the future ruler of the empire!’
’When the Emperor sent me to oversee the war in the north, I thought heaven itself was on my side, that all my plans were falling into place!’
’But in the end, that bastard Henry beat me to the punch! Ratifa, oh Ratifa, can’t you be a little more discreet?!’
The First Prince gritted his teeth. He felt his plans crumbling bit by bit.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his emotions.
’Lately, I’ve often felt a tightness in my chest and shortness of breath, and I frequently suffer from insomnia—all because of Henry. I feel the pressure mounting, all because of Henry’s existence.’
’Henry, you really deserve to die!’
The First Prince closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. This was not the time to panic. He needed to reformulate his plans and find a way to deal with Henry.
He couldn’t let Henry continue like this, or both his position and his plans would be threatened.
’But... but I still can’t do without Henry right now. I’m still counting on him to bring me a great victory.’
’Why don’t I have that kind of power? I can’t do anything. I’m so pathetic...’
He opened his eyes, which were slightly moist.
’I’m about to start tearing up. I’ve never suffered such injustice in my entire life. Henry, I’ll remember this for as long as I live!’
’I can’t let Henry continue to develop unchecked. I have to curb his rise! I can’t let him become a runaway stallion.’
The informant stood to the side, witnessing the First Prince’s violent mood swings, and his body began to tremble involuntarily.
He was afraid the First Prince would do something irrational in his anger, and even worried he himself might become a victim of the Prince’s fury.
His gaze darted to the box on the table from time to time, terrified it might suddenly fly over and smash into his head.
’Am I going to be silenced?’
Just as he was trembling with fear, the First Prince suddenly took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
A few seconds later, when he opened his eyes again, his gaze had returned to its usual calm and elegance.
The First Prince’s voice also became calm. He said to the informant, "Continue your surveillance. Report immediately if there’s any sign of trouble."
The informant, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, nodded frantically and practically fled from the First Prince’s tent.
He didn’t know what had been going on recently, but the First Prince’s moods were erratic. To be able to leave this dangerous place as quickly as possible was undoubtedly a relief for him.
The First Prince sat alone in his tent, placing a hand on his chest and massaging it gently, trying to relieve the pressure and tension in his heart.
He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, attempting to calm his mood.
’I lost my composure. I lost it again,’ he thought with self-mockery. ’This Henry... he really is the great nemesis of my life.’
The threat Henry posed far exceeded his initial expectations. Henry’s performance on the battlefield was outstanding, and he had prestige among the soldiers.
It could even affect his personal plans, such as his relationship with Ratifa.
The more the First Prince thought about it, the angrier he got, slapping his thigh in frustration. He shouldn’t have sent Ratifa to the eastern grasslands to procure military supplies.
’Ratifa saw all of Henry’s "highlight reel" moments then. What a terrible decision!’
The First Prince pondered for a moment in his tent, finally standing up and deciding to change his clothes.
Henry had achieved brilliant military exploits. As the First Prince, he had to go and welcome him personally to show his recognition and respect for his achievements.
Although his heart was filled with dissatisfaction and jealousy toward Henry, on the surface, he still had to maintain the grace and etiquette befitting a leader.
He chose a solemn yet majestic robe. The deep purple fabric was embroidered with gold trim, highlighting his noble status.
These clothes were neither too ostentatious nor lacking in ceremony, perfectly suitable for welcoming a triumphant general.
After dressing, the First Prince adjusted his appearance in the mirror, ensuring he looked impeccable.
Every one of his movements and expressions could be interpreted by others, so he had to maintain his best form.
The only petty revenge he could take on Henry, perhaps, was to pretend to be too busy to acknowledge him the moment he appeared. It was a trivial ploy, but it was also the only thing he could do at the moment.
The First Prince’s heart was filled with bitterness. He had never imagined that he, the great First Prince, would be reduced to this, needing to use such a method to express his dissatisfaction.
This made him feel extremely frustrated and ashamed. The First Prince sighed and slowly walked out of his tent.
Outside, the soldiers were still cheering, celebrating Henry’s triumphant return.
A strained smile appeared on the First Prince’s face. He had to hide his true emotions and display the demeanor befitting a leader.
He led his fully armed Personal Guard and magnificently equipped Attendants toward the heart of the cheering, toward the unloaded spoils of war, toward Henry.
Looking at the piled-up heads of the Inferior Horned Beasts and the Record Keeper who was swamped with work off to the side, his heart was filled with mixed emotions.
’If only... if only these were my own military achievements, how wonderful that would be... Is Father’s Knight Academy really that good? Should I go there for some training too?’
The First Prince walked through the crowd with steady steps, heading toward Henry. His eyes were locked on Henry, but his face wore a warm smile.
Henry also noticed the First Prince’s arrival. He stopped his conversation with the soldiers and turned to face the Prince, his own smile sincere and warm.
Their gazes met in mid-air, as if they could strike sparks.
The First Prince spoke first, his tone appreciative and cordial: "Baron Henry, your military achievements are admirable. You have rendered meritorious service to the empire. On behalf of the empire, I express my highest respect."
Henry bowed slightly and replied, "Your Highness is too kind. This is all the result of the soldiers’ heroic fighting. I was merely doing my duty."
The First Prince stepped closer to Henry and patted his shoulder in a familiar gesture. He smiled and said, "You are too humble, Henry. Your name will be recorded in the annals of history, and your bravery will be sung by later generations."
Henry smiled without saying much in response. He knew these were just pleasantries from the First Prince. His performance had indeed attracted the Prince’s attention, and even his vigilance.
’Because the feeling the First Prince gave him could be summed up in one word: fake!’
’He’s putting on an act. That’s not what he’s really thinking.’
On the surface, it appeared to be a friendly exchange, but in reality, an undercurrent of tension flowed between them.
The First Prince was trying to use this familiar gesture to display his authority and control, while Henry responded with a humble attitude.
’It’s your dad I respect.’