The Useless Prince Is A Gangster
Chapter 78. Vacation

Chapter 78: 78. Vacation

Leo’s crimson eyes looking at the shattered remnant of his sword, lying on the wooden table like a fallen warrior. The handle was barely intact, but the blade was reduced to a jagged, pitiful stub.

Doubt filled in his face as he pointed at it, his voice low. "You’re telling me this is my sword? The one you found from the site?"

Gidon, leaning against the wall in the cluttered room where Leo had come to reclaim his belongings, gave a firm nod. "That’s the one, kid. No mistake, it is laying just feets away from you, even i thought to throw it there."

Leo picked up the handle, turning it slowly in his hands. "Torgrim’s gonna have my head for this," he muttered, half to himself.

Gidon let out a booming laugh, clapping Leo on the back with enough force to make him stumble. "Come on, Leonhardt! You didn’t break it fighting some lowly goblins. You killed a demon commander. Things like this happen!"

Leo sighed, setting the handle down with a faint clink. At least he had the Soul Resonance weapon, Blood Dragger, and the enigmatic Pride Ehodh skill to fill the spot.

His eyes drifted to the voltsteel knuckle glove—or what was left of it. It was now a pitiful handful of burned leather scraps. "Could’ve gone worse," he said under his breath, a wry smirk tugging at his lips.

Gidon’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he crossed his massive arms. "Speaking of that demon... how’d you even defeat him? We were outside the dome, and his aura alone felt like a mountain crushing us. Suffocating. How’d you stand it?"

Leo’s smirk widened, his crimson eyes sparking with a fierce, almost feral intensity. "There’s a difference between defeating and killing, sir. Defeating takes strength, strategy. Bur for Killing? All you need is one perfect moment." His voice carried a chilling edge.

Gidon’s jaw dropped slightly, a grin spreading across his face. This kid—this kid—kept surprising him, growing fiercer by the day. He was already imagining Leo as his apprentice, wielding that fire under his guidance. "Alright, so how’d you kill him?"

Before Leo could answer, the door swung open, and Serion strode in, his indigo coat sweeping behind him. Professors Avoor, Isolde, and Vaelem followed, their faces grim from analyzing the prison cell’s explosion.

Leo shrugged, his tone deceptively casual. "He thought I was weak. Big mistake. I saw my opening, used Coreburst. Jammed my sword into his chest, channeled every drop of my mana, and obliterated his mana core."

Serion’s eyes widened, a rare crack in his stoic facade. Coreburst? That’s a death wish—takes insane focus and precision. But this kid is doing something extremely risky.

He let out a low, amused chuckle. "Kid, because of you, we’ve got 34 survivors, a name—Order of Ruin—and their plan to snuff out the Ruler’s Prophecy. Not bad."

Leo’s expression darkened, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. "Not good enough. The black sheep’s still out there. The one who baited me into that forest, locked me in the cage, and tried to kill me."

Avoor stepped forward, ruffling Leo’s red hair like he was just a scrappy kid. "Easy, Leonhardt. Leave the traitor to us. You’ve done plenty. Go enjoy your vacation—live a little."

Leo swatted Avoor’s hand away, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, sure." He turned to Serion, his gaze sharp. "What’s your next step, sir?"

Serion smirk sharp as a blade. "I’ll lead this case, piece by piece. You know who I am, right? If not, ask your father, the Duke. He’ll tell you I won’t stop."

Leo let out a short, dry laugh, a glint of respect in his eyes. "Oh, I know."

He grabbed the broken sword handle, heading for the door, he paused, glancing back at the group. "Thanks for pulling me out of that mess," he said, his voice softer, carrying a rare flicker of gratitude. "I owe you. Let’s catch up after the vacation." He flashed a lazy wave, and slipped out, the door clicking shut behind him.

Serion turned to the others, his voice low, almost a whisper. "That kid... he’s not the same since Eldergrove, is he? The assassination attempt—it changed him."

Vaelem’s face was grave as he nodded. "Completely. He’s... something else now."

Leo stepped out into the academy’s quiet hallway, the broken sword handle was sent to the item space. Liana stood waiting, her face lighting up with a relieved smile as she saw him.

"Let’s go," he said, hands shoved in his pockets, his boots echoing on the polished stone floor. As they walked, he glanced at her. "Liana, were you with me the whole four days I was out?"

"Yes, Young Master Leo," she said earnestly, keeping pace. "I stayed by your side, except for a few moments. I took care of you the entire time."

He sighed, his brow furrowing. "Did anyone visit me after the vacation started?"

Liana shook her head. "No, only a few students who came to thank you before they left. Other than the healers and staff, no one else."

His eyes narrowed, doubt gnawing at him. He could’ve sworn he’d sensed someone—a voice, faint and familiar, speaking to him in the haze before he woke.

"Alright. We’re heading home tomorrow. Arrange it."

"It’ll be done, Young Master," Liana said promptly.

He stopped, turning to her with a casual grin. "Also, my stomach’s screaming. Been in a coma for four days—can you whip up something to eat?"

Liana’s face fell, the weight of his words hitting her. "Of course, Young Master Leo! I’ll make something right now!" She bolted down the hallway toward the dorm room, her urgency almost comical. Leo chuckled, amused by her flustered sprint, and followed at a leisurely pace.

Meanwhile, in the principal’s office, Serion sits on a couch, his coat draped over the armrest. Across from him sat Principal Veymoor, his weathered face serious. "So, old man," Serion said. "Why’d you call me?"

Veymoor leaned forward, his voice steady. "I needed to speak with you—and someone else." He activated a mana communication device on the table and a projection appeared, revealing Duke Alric.

"Hello, friend," he said, his voice smooth but carrying an edge. "How are you?"

Serion smirked, unfazed. "Duke, your son’s got you beat when it comes to greeting important folks with respect. Cut to the chase—what do you want?"

Alric’s projection fell silent, his eyes narrowing as he thought. After a moment, he spoke, his tone low and deliberate. "It’s about my eldest son, Leonhardt. I’m here to request... that you keep his identity as the Ruler’s Prophecy hidden."