The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character-Chapter 73: Phantom Thief Dauphin (17). Top Secret. Do Not Leak Externally
The powerholders of Lebruk are trash.
And the ones gathered in the mansion now? They were the worst of the worst—even among that trash heap.
This wasn’t because Dauphin liked saving the best for last. It was simply that those whose crimes were milder—or who still had a shred of conscience—had already “voluntarily paid up,” in other words, accepted Dauphin’s “recommendation.”
In noble society, where honor and reputation are practically currency, bowing down to a mere “thief,” apologizing to a “commoner,” and even paying reparations? That’s a massive social loss.
But as humiliating as that apology might be, it didn’t compare to getting publicly thrashed like a dog and paraded through the streets tied up like a worm.
Sure, being the first to surrender might brand one a coward or traitor—but if others joined in, there was no reason to hesitate.
In other words, if there were still ten targets left at this point, it meant those ten were either so stubborn their egos had rotted their brains—or such scum that not even an apology could atone for their sins.
And now, those pieces of trash were fully revealing their rotten characters.
“All this hardship because of a single petty thief. Unbelievable.”
“If the city guard had done their job properly, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Then again, what do you expect from a unit harboring traitors?”
“Just thinking of that woman standing near me with that shameless face makes my skin crawl.”
“Indeed. We must ensure ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) this never happens again by executing her with the utmost severity.”
Most of these people had, not long ago, begged Dahlia to stay by their side for protection—and had even been helped by her. But none of them saw any reason to bring that up.
After all, a lowly guard protecting them was just “doing her duty.”
And since she failed to do that job perfectly, letting Dauphin slip by multiple times, they saw not executing her on the spot as more than generous.
But now—now it was all lies?
How utterly unforgivable!
They took genuine pleasure in bashing Dahlia, delighted that others shared their outrage.
“That filthy wench... I offered to make her my concubine, and the commoner had the nerve to turn up her nose! All while plotting behind my back?”
“She rejected my recruitment offer, said she was devoted to guard work. So she was just hiding her true colors, afraid her fake ‘skills’ would be exposed as a sham!”
Totally not personal. Absolutely not. No way.
Besides, they’d already been fed plenty of “dirt” on Dahlia by the knight order—discreetly, of course.
“And her father was—”
“Damn it! The more I think about it, the angrier I get!!”
Just as one man began to speak in a low, suggestive tone, a loud bellow interrupted the banquet hall.
Startled, the gathered elites turned with scowls.
Who dared to shout so rudely in the presence of Lebruk’s ruling class?
Ready to scold whoever it was, they glanced toward the source—then quickly looked away, coughing awkwardly.
Everyone here held power. But the man yelling like a madman held a particularly special position.
Lebruk’s tax officer. One of Count Sarnos’s children.
The former title wasn’t so important—but the latter was.
He sounds just like his father when he raises his voice. Gives me heart palpitations every time.
I heard he’s been stress-eating from all the pressure Dauphin’s put on him. If this keeps up for another year, he’ll turn into a ball.
Whether he noticed the looks or not, the tax officer continued his tirade without pause.
“I trusted that guard! I was even touched watching her fend off that evil bastard Dauphin! And she trampled all over my kind heart like that? How could she?!”
Crash!
He hurled his glass to the floor in a fit of rage.
If someone from House Redvell had been present, they might’ve noticed the uncanny resemblance to a certain infamously ill-tempered young lady. But sadly, no such perceptive eye was present among the Sarnos loyalists.
Everyone merely shook their heads at the model example of a spoiled brat.
Shaking with rage, his pudgy belly and cheeks quivering, the tax officer suddenly scanned the room with bloodshot eyes.
“You there.”
While the others instinctively averted their gaze, one knight who got singled out wore a face that practically collapsed.
“...Yes, sir?”
“I just don’t get it. So let me ask. I saw that guard up close a few times, yeah? And once, I swear, she split a building in half with a single spear swing. If all of that was staged, was that part faked too?”
“Well, of course it was. If you pre-weaken the structure in the right places, even a small impact can cause collapse.”
“Really? You sure?”
“Absolutely. Otherwise, how could some lowly guard possess that kind of strength?”
“In that case, I need to punish my servants.”
“...Sir?”
His comment sent a wave of confusion through the knights and nobles nearby.
Nobody followed the logic.
But the tax officer spoke as if it were obvious.
“It was my building that got wrecked. So if it was a setup, that means someone on the inside helped, right? Whether they colluded or just did a poor job maintaining it—either way, it’s punishable. Don’t you agree?”
“Y-yes, that’s correct.”
“Hmph, but those servants were sent from the main house. If I mess with them carelessly, it could be annoying... Hey. You sure about what you just said? That all her strength was a trick? If it turns out later that wasn’t true, I’m gonna be real disappointed, got it?”
“Well...”
The knight hesitated.
If the “servants” in question were just low-status workers, there wouldn’t be a problem.
But if they included personal stewards or maids from the main house—household retainers—things got tricky.
After all, anyone sent directly from the count’s estate likely had noble ties.
The tax officer frowned.
“Why are you hesitating? Hey, asshole. Don’t tell me you were just talking out of your ass. You think I’m some kind of joke?”
“N-no, sir!”
“Yeah, I’m not buying it.”
He tilted his head, then suddenly pointed at a different knight.
“You. You tell me. That damn thief used some weird cards to cause explosions and lightning and all kinds of flashy crap. And the guard just tanked it all. Was that fake too?”
“Of course.”
“How’d she do it?”
“That’s something we’ll determine through interrogation.”
“Good. Then share the results with me.”
“...Excuse me?”
“I mean, if there’s a ‘trick’ that makes some lowly guard that durable, then that’s useful tech, isn’t it? Gotta learn how to exploit that.”
“Hm.”
“God, do you people ever use your heads? All you ever do is swing swords around. No brains at all. Tsk, tsk.”
“......”
“Oh? What’s with that look? Got a problem?”
“No, sir!”
“I’ll let it slide. Just this once.”
With the air of someone granting a great favor, the tax officer finally turned away. But even after that, he went around grabbing every knight he passed, demanding answers about Dahlia’s “tricks.”
Each time, the knights had no choice but to answer, faces twisted in bitterness.
Dahlia’s abilities were all fake.
Dahlia had no such power.
There’s no way a mere guard could do things even they, as knights, couldn’t.
It wasn’t until the tax officer had wrung this out of nearly every knight at the banquet that he finally looked satisfied. The other nobles could only watch him, utterly speechless.
And then, after all that chaos, the tax officer caught some of the strange looks being thrown his way—and frowned.
The nobles flinched instinctively.
Realistically, there was no chance the tax officer would lash out at them—not with their rank and positions. But if they were thinking logically, they’d remember that a mere tax officer treating the Sarnos knights like dirt shouldn’t be possible either.
Still, their worries turned out to be needless.
The tax officer suddenly smiled.
“Oh dear, my apologies. I’ve disturbed everyone. It’s just... I’ve had so much bottled up. So much I don’t understand. I lost my temper without realizing.”
“Haha, it happens. Quite understandable, truly.”
“Well, this might not make up for it, but—ah, what the hell. For the next three days, I’ll cover all the food and drink for everyone here! Bring out every rare liquor Lebruk has—we’ll enjoy it properly!”
“Ooooh!!”
Nobles aren’t immune to free luxuries.
And now, after being deprived by Dauphin’s chaos, they could finally indulge—fully protected by the knight order, without a care in the world.
Of course, this meant extra hell for the knights and servants. But why should the nobles care? If they hated it so much, they should’ve just caught Dauphin from the start.
The banquet grew increasingly rowdy. One by one, nobles who drank and feasted beyond their limit were carried off to their rooms, dead drunk.
Outside those doors, the knights complained under their breath.
“This is absurd. How can they treat us like this?”
“That pig bastard was the worst. Clinging and slobbering on everyone to the bitter end. I thought I’d lose it.”
“It’s the vice-commander’s orders. Just bear with it a little longer. Even if each of them is nothing alone, if they all turn against us, it’s trouble. We’ll get payback later.”
Normally, nobles would never dare speak or act so carelessly toward knights—especially ones as powerful as the Sarnos Order. But tonight was different.
The tax officer’s behavior had practically set a precedent. Fueled by drink, others followed suit—mocking, jabbing, and pushing boundaries.
The knights, proud as they were, longed to beat them into the ground. But sadly, now was not the time.
“Room 104. All clear.”
“Same for 107. Loud snoring, but they’re out cold.”
“After how much they drank, I’d be surprised if they weren’t. Don’t wake them up unless you want another headache.”
“Understood.”
Normally, when that many people gather in one place, at least one or two are bound to stay up late doing something. But not a single noble stirred from their rooms that night.
The knights didn’t find it strange. Given the amount of alcohol, it was natural they’d be out cold.
Screeeeeam!!
“What was that?! What’s going on?!”
And so, they only realized something was wrong the next morning.
A maid entered one of the rooms to tend to her master—only to scream in terror. The knights rushed in... and found a bizarre mannequin lying in the bed, crafted to perfectly resemble a person.
“N-no way!”
One of the knights, desperate to deny reality, reached out and touched the figure—and immediately regretted it.
Poof!
With a soft burst, the body transformed into a flimsy, thin membrane. Inside it, a card lay in perfect display—emitting snoring, teeth grinding, and sleep-talking in randomized patterns. All the sounds the knights had heard through the night.
Their faces turned deathly pale.
“All of them...? All the targets are gone? Not a single one left? And nobody noticed?! Not a soul reported anything?! What kind of absolute bullshit is this?!”
“S-sir, we’re currently tracing the underground passage we believe he used—”
“P-please wait! Commander! Vice-Commander! Outside—something’s happening in the streets!!”
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The citizens of Lebruk stared blankly at the strange insects displayed all across the city—dung beetle puppets, ten in total. And from each of their necks, a peculiar card was hanging, broadcasting voices.
“Yes, yes, the 8th Platoon Captain’s abilities were all fake. Super strength? Crashing through buildings?”
“It was all trickery. I swear on the name of the Sarnos Knight Order.”
“Even we can’t do that! You think some random guard could?! Please.”
Click.
“Close with the 8th Platoon? Please. They’re commoners. It’s only natural they serve us.”
“That woman? Don’t even get me started. I asked her to stick by my side many times, but she always refused. Said she had to patrol other districts. I mean, shouldn’t we take priority over those people? Foolish girl.”
“Mark my words. The moment that thief Dauphin is caught, we’re going to wipe those bastards out. Rebellion? Ha! All it takes is making an example of a few ringleaders and the rest will grovel like the spineless trash they are!”
Click.
“Come on, tell me. Seriously, Knight—how did she do it? I have to know.”
“Please, sir, I can’t—”
“Just a little hint. I deserve to know this much, don’t I? Or do I need to report it to my father?”
“...Haaah. You must never, never repeat this to anyone.”
“Got it. Now spill it!”
“(bzzt)...your suspicion was correct.”
“Ohho! So her powers were real after all? And that thing about conspiring with Dauphin was all made up? Hah! I knew my instincts were right. The knight order really is full of scheming snakes!”
“Let me repeat—do not tell anyone. Not even (bzzt). If the Commander finds out, there will be consequences.”
“Understood. My lips are sealed.”
Click.
The card cycled back to the beginning and began playing again.
Though it was all repeated material, no one got bored.
People stopped in the street, glued to the voices. Others, curious, approached—and soon reacted just the same.
And then, finally, someone spoke:
“—Look at these fucking bastards.”