Chapter Seventy-One: Long Time No See, Crown Prince of Misthira!

November 20, 2237, 11:36 AM. A corridor inside Buckingham Palace, London.

“Ha! It seems we've got those ministers completely baffled!” In the golden palace, two young men who looked remarkably alike spoke with cheerful abandon. Each wore a distinctive sword at his waist, unique robes, and a crown upon his head.

Undoubtedly, these were the newly crowned Prince Kevir and Prince Charles. Having slipped away from the ministers, they planned to set aside the “extra” ceremonial items they bore. After all, such things were purely symbolic—no prince would truly wear his crown all day. The robes, however, were another matter; made of celestial silk and velvet, they offered warmth enough for the season.

“It’s such a pity! Our elder brother didn’t come to our coronation! Sigh—he’s missed another milestone in our lives!” Prince Charles complained, for their elder brother had long refused to appear before the public. “Nothing to be done! Our elder brother is Father’s ‘wanted man.’ If he’s caught, he’ll have as little freedom as we do!” Prince Kevir replied, his tone understanding yet resigned. He sympathized with his elder brother’s plight.

But suddenly—“Enough, Kevir! Can you stop calling him ‘elder brother’ every time? I can’t stand it!” A voice echoed through the corridor. Charles was startled, but Kevir, thinking it was Charles who spoke, answered without hesitation, “Enough, Charles! We’re princes now; we ought to be more formal!” He joked, still unaware the voice was not Charles’s. “Of course, we won’t obey Father’s wishes!”

“That’s the spirit, Kevir!” The voice sounded again, and Kevir, still oblivious, replied, “Exactly, Charles! And if you’d call me ‘brother’ or ‘elder brother,’ that’d be even better!”

“Well then, let me affectionately call you ‘little brother,’ Kevir—and Charles too.” This line jolted Kevir completely awake. He scanned the corridor in panic; though not long, there was no sign of anyone else.

“Is it you, elder brother? Where are you? I can’t see you!” Kevir frantically looked around, seeing no one but Charles beside him.

“Where are you looking, Kevir? I’m right where your eyes fall,” came the reply. Suddenly, a hat appeared in midair, followed by a hand. The hat was removed, revealing a youth of their age and appearance, cloaked and standing before them.

“こんにちは—my brothers!” “Elder brother!” they cried out in astonishment. Their brother had appeared before them, after more than ten years apart.

“Heh! What’s wrong, my dear brothers? I risked being caught just to celebrate your birthday with you, and this is the welcome I get?” Trecy, the crown prince, seemed a little displeased, his lavish attire swirling around him, his golden hair so pure that no one could doubt his royal status.

“No, it’s just… It’s been so long, I don’t know where to begin,” Charles stammered. Influenced by his ministers, he’d begun to wonder whether his elder brother was alive or dead—and now, here he stood before him.

“Don’t worry! We’ll have a whole day to spend together. But… isn’t it time for a meal? Go ahead, put away your crowns and such. Let’s meet in front of my room!” Trecy stretched out his hand, just like in all those classic anime scenes, waiting for his brothers to take it.

Kevir and Charles instinctively reached out, grasping their elder brother’s hand—only for it to vanish from their palms the instant they touched it.

Staring at the vanished hand, Charles and Kevir exchanged a glance. “All right! Let’s follow our elder brother’s lead—just this once.”

—Extra Notes—

Today, I suddenly felt inspired to write “Dynasty of Mecha Wars” instead of “The Primal Continent.” Perhaps it’s because I adore this work so much!