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[Crossover] Ch 244: Black Prince Alec
🕑 Added 2025-09-09 16:53:52 +0000 UTC— — — — — —
Athena must be a true god.
No, no. Impossible. There was no way a Campione and a God could actually cooperate.
After the initial shock, Alice quickly dismissed the ridiculous thought and scrambled to find a more reasonable explanation.
Athena was a triple goddess. If she descended in her complete form, she would hold at least three divine personas.
If a Campione killed Athena and bound her as a subordinate, they'd only take one of those personas.
Even weakened, with the other two still intact, she could very well maintain her standing as a rogue god.
At least in theory, it was possible.
But wasn't this basically cheating?
No wonder the King of Swords had fallen so quickly. Ryo wasn't just one Campione; he could be counted as two, three, maybe even four.
Alice ran the numbers in her head and felt a chill. The realization erased any trace of condescension.
Just being able to summon Athena as a subordinate was enough to push Ryo into the top three among Campiones.
And then there was Sardinia, where he was rumored to have slain Verethragna and Melqart.
That meant two more authorities.
In sheer quantity, he wasn't behind any king. The only thing he lacked was experience.
There was no fighting someone like that. The only path left was submission. Every stray thought had to be buried deep.
With a quiet sigh, Alice lowered her head and said, "The Witenagemot accepts your terms."
Ryo arched a brow. "Including you?"
"??"
Alice froze, then panic flashed across her face.
Damn. She'd been so caught up analyzing Athena's power she'd forgotten what Ryo's actual demand was.
She forced a wan smile. "Would it… be possible to change the terms?"
"Of course." Ryo's grin widened.
Relief washed over her, and she slipped back into her graceful, noble mask.
Then Ryo added, all too casually, "Let's add one more. I want you reinstated as Speaker of Witenagemot. After all, we're practically old acquaintances, don't you agree?"
Alice's face went stiff.
Speaker of Witenagemot?
She'd just stepped down to avoid that nightmare of a position, and now he wanted her right back in it?
For the first time in her life, Alice felt the very real urge to curse out loud.
But faced with Ryo's infuriatingly handsome and gentle smile, she forced her lips to move.
"Everything will be as you command."
"Good. Then you may go." Ryo's eyes gleamed with amusement. "I expect to hear from the Witenagemot very soon."
'He wants to draw out the Black Prince…' The thought hit Alice instantly, and her heart sank.
Never in her wildest dreams did she expect that two kings would end up clashing right here in Britain.
Truly, a miserable turn of events.
"If that is your will…"
Her voice trailed off as she dismissed her soul-projection. Far away, in the Duke of Goddodin's mansion, her true body stirred awake.
"How did it go, Your Highness?" asked Patricia Ericson, her secretary, who had been waiting at her side.
"The worst possible outcome."
Still in her nightgown, Alice dragged her fingers through her golden hair with a weary sigh.
"Inform the Witenagemot, Miss Ericson. Tell them to prepare for a clash between two kings."
"What?" Ericson's face tightened. "You mean…?"
"And the Witenagemot now belongs to Ryo Yagami."
Alice let out another sigh. 'Plus in that possession, he may well count me too.'
"…Understood."
Ericson bowed quickly, excused herself, and hurried off to deliver the disastrous news.
Alice turned her head toward the window, staring at the bright, round moon. A soft breath escaped her lips.
"My spirit sight tells me disaster won't be too great. Let's hope it's right."
— — —
England, Cornwall
In the countryside stood a modest art museum.
Inside, it housed all sorts of artifacts—Rosetta Stone, Parthenon sculptures, Apollo's likeness, Van Gogh's portraits, and towering piles of books.
The locals often joked that the place was just a knockoff British Museum.
They had no idea that the treasures here were the genuine originals.
All of it came from the Black Prince Alec, Alexander Gascoigne.
After plundering the British Museum, he had stashed the real artifacts here in his countryside base.
Whenever time allowed, he'd even pull out beginner-level grimoires and, using the artifacts as examples, lecture his new recruits about the roots of magic and mythology.
Today was no exception.
Wearing only a simple white shirt and slacks, Alec stood before a classroom of followers, chalk in hand, giving them the basics.
The Royal Arsenal drew its members from all sorts of strange backgrounds—most were people who knew of magic but didn't really understand it, and who, for one reason or another, resented the elite magic clans.
Which meant Alec often had to educate these "magic illiterates" himself.
He could have left it to someone else, but he always said teaching was part of a leader's duty.
Halfway through the lecture, one of his top men—a knight nicknamed "Sir Iceman"—strode in with a stormy expression.
"Alec, we need to talk."
"Class dismissed. Go study on your own for now."
Alec clapped his hands, setting aside his textbook, and dusted off the chalk before following him into the hall.
"What's wrong?"
Iceman's face was grim. "The Witenagemot showed its hand. They've sworn allegiance to the new king discovered yesterday."
"Hm?"
Alec's eyes widened, and to Iceman's confusion, a spark of delight flashed across his face.
"And that insufferable woman?"
"So... Princess Alice? She pledged herself too. She's even taken up the Speaker's seat again."
Iceman frowned at his leader's expression. "Are you… happy about this?"
"Was it that obvious?" Alec rubbed his face, genuinely surprised.
"…" Iceman stared at him for a long moment, then finally asked, baffled, "Why?"
Half your followers just betrayed you, and instead of rage, you're grinning like a proud father. It made no sense.
"You don't get it, Iceman." Alec's smile widened. "Back then, I fought that Witch a few times and ended up losing to her on a condition."
"A condition?"
"Yeah. As long as she remained nominally loyal to me, I couldn't move against the Witenagemot or the royal family. That was the price I paid."
The explanation hit Iceman like a thunderclap. So that's why Britain's magical world had been stuck in this bizarre stalemate.
"Wait… you mean—"
Alec's grin turned feral.
"It means the gloves are off. We can finally go to war with those arrogant elitists."
Iceman's eyes widened, then his lips curled into the same wild, reckless smile.
.
.
.
