The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character

Defeat is always bitter.

However, not every loser is destined for disgrace.

If the defeated had treated those around them with respect and sincerity, people might say things like, “Everyone loses sometimes,” or “Don’t take it too hard,” offering words of comfort.

If the defeated had fought with honor and dignity, people might say, “They lost, but it was a good fight,” or “It was a beautiful match, regardless of the outcome,” offering encouragement.

But the opposite is also true.

And Malik's loss, which fit neither category, resulted in utter humiliation.

“What is this disgrace!! How dare you tarnish our family name!?”

Count Grimloon was furious.

This wasn’t a discreet one-on-one duel. It was a public battle viewed with interest by many of the kingdom’s key figures, some of whom had even attended in person.

And Malik hadn’t simply lost. He had made a complete fool of himself during the match, every last pathetic detail exposed for all to see.

It had been a mock battle, nothing more—yet he had brazenly attempted deadly spells, not to mention spouting vulgar and disgusting remarks.

Count Grimloon had even invited several acquaintances to the exchange in order to showcase the prowess of his newly adopted son. Now, he understood what it meant to die of shame.

“Eris, was it? The representative from Aldridge Training School was seriously amazing.” “In contrast, our rep... ugh. Even the professors could only sigh nonstop.” “I was embarrassed just as a fellow student. Imagine how the professors felt. If they had picked someone else, we could’ve just lost cleanly and been done with it.”

The academy’s reputation had taken a serious blow.

From the start, Malik had not been well-liked within his own training school, due to his personality.

Still, his overwhelming skill in practicals had earned him the grudging respect of “he’s a jerk, but he’s got the talent.” But now, that protective buffer had been ripped away.

Even if his skill remained unchanged, the aura of intimidation and authority surrounding him had plummeted.

It was like when a notorious school bully got thoroughly beaten in public—people might act polite to his face, but behind his back, they’d be laughing.

“Shit, shit! Damn bastards! What the hell did I even do wrong!!”

If Malik Grimloon had possessed even the slightest amount of self-awareness or morality, perhaps this could’ve been a turning point.

But no such reflection came.

As always, instead of admitting fault, he blamed everyone around him.

He resented the Count who berated him, the professors who looked at him with scorn, the students who laughed at him.

And most of all—his master, Delphinaris.

“I’m sorry, Malik. I knew you were walking the wrong path, but I turned a blind eye because of an old woman’s pride and stubbornness. A teacher’s duty is not just to impart magic and knowledge, but to guide their students toward being decent people too.”

Delphinaris, awakened by Eris’s performance, did not intend to abandon Malik.

Once she accepted someone as her disciple—even if they turned out to be disappointing—she believed it was her duty to take responsibility until the end.

That was her way of atoning.

But Malik did not accept it.

He had only ever wanted her powerful magic and the prestige of being a great mage’s disciple. Talk of correcting his behavior or becoming a better person was just irritating and tiresome to him.

He was angry.

Frustrated.

Spewing curses again and again, Malik eventually redirected his rage.

“This is all your fault! The power you gave me is garbage! You said I’d be able to beat anyone who wasn’t Delphinaris! What kind of crap ability is this!?”

At his outburst, the demon Balzares emerged from the shadows of the room.

Even when Malik insulted the power he’d been granted, calling it “garbage,” Balzares wore the same flippant, mocking grin as always.

“Oh, my friend. That’s not quite right. What I told you was: ‘You’ll be able to beat anyone below an ordinary 5th-Rank mage.’”

“Then what the hell is Eris!?”

“She must not be ordinary, obviously.”

“You think I’m in the mood for word games right now!?”

As Malik threw a tantrum like a child, Balzares threw an arm around his shoulders, wearing that same overly friendly tone.

“Now, now. Don’t worry about all the things people are saying, my friend. Most of the ones mocking you now will be the first to bow and kiss your feet once you’re back on top.”

“...You say that like it’s easy. But right now, I’ve got no way to do that. You think things change just by talking?”

“Bingo, my friend! Talking won’t do it. That’s why we need to take action.”

Still friendly. Still lighthearted. Still smiling.

The demon Balzares said:

“So let’s start by killing that Eris girl.”

Blink.

Malik opened and closed his eyes repeatedly.

Balzares’s tone and demeanor were so identical to usual that he couldn’t quite grasp the weight of what was being said.

“That girl’s skills are certainly impressive. Even if you attack with a force of ten, she can probably block it with just one. But in that case, just crush her with a force of one hundred. I wanted to use some of those spells you learned from Delphinaris, but since that’s not an option, I’ll teach you one myself.”

This wasn’t Malik shouting “I’ll kill her!” in a fit of rage.

It wasn’t even a heat-of-the-moment slip where emotions flared and someone ended up dead.

Balzares calmly discussed how to kill Eris—as casually as someone asking whether they should grab a cup of coffee. No excitement, no agitation, just a clear and deliberate intent.

The indescribable chill that accompanied it made Malik blurt out a reflexive objection.

“W-wait a minute. But if anything happens to her right now, won’t everyone suspect me?”

“Excellent point! Looks like your brain’s finally warming up! Keh-heh-heh!”

Balzares chuckled and then, smirking, replied.

“Relax! I’m a demon from the lineage of Deceit. Fooling humans is child’s play. I can easily set up an alibi for you when you make your move. I’ll keep an illusion of you visible in a crowded area and tamper with the memories of a few people so they remember chatting with you. Simple.”

“They’ll still probably be suspicious...”

“Sure, humans don’t rely only on evidence. Some will doubt you just based on circumstance. But so what?”

Balzares’s crescent-moon grin widened.

“Among all the students here in Ravellocia, the only ones who stand a chance of entering Celestial Academy are you and that Eris girl. If she dies, it won’t matter how awful your grades are—you’ll get in by default. End of story. And that place is somewhere even great mages can’t enter easily.”

“What happens after that?”

“There’s nothing to worry about! Once you’re inside, you’ll just find the item I want. Then the power you have now—no, something even greater—will be yours. The count, your master, everyone who looked down on you will be beneath your feet!”

Balzares was kind.

His voice was warm, his words carefully chosen to stir every bit of greed and craving within Malik.

And yet... Malik didn’t nod.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

It wasn’t guilt or conscience that held him back.

It was just—

“Hmm? What’s wrong, my friend? I’ve got everything covered. You just walk up behind her and hit her with °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° the strongest spell you’ve got. Or hey, if that’s too much trouble, just stab her in the back with a knife. No one will know. Sweet, sweet revenge—how fun is that?”

It was just—

“You’ve said over and over that you’d kill her, right? That doing it would actually benefit your life, right? So then just do it! ...Hmm? Hey. You listening, friend?”

It was just... just... just...

“—Are you scared?”

Flinch—Malik’s body trembled violently.

At that reaction, Balzares’s eyes narrowed.

The demon who had always laughed off Malik’s tantrums and insults—his face was now painted with disappointment and disdain.

“...So it’s true. You’ve completely lost your nerve.”

“W-what are you talking about!? I’m just trying to come up with a better plan—!”

“Tell me, friend. Do you know why I chose you?”

Why had Balzares chosen him?

The question came out of nowhere, and Malik was too stunned to respond.

He had never once considered it.

“If it were just about ability, there were plenty better than you. Honestly, I could’ve picked almost anyone at the training school to lend my power to, and they’d have used it better.”

“What about personality? There were plenty who would’ve obeyed me more obediently. No tantrums, no whining, no reckless stunts. So why you?”

“Even so, I chose you. Do you know why?”

Tap.

Balzares leaned in close, bringing his face right in front of Malik’s.

Gone was the clownish grin—his face was stone cold as he stared straight into Malik’s eyes.

“Because you’re junk food.”

Malik slowly, very slowly, repeated the words in his head.

Even then, they didn’t make sense—so he asked aloud.

“Junk... food?”

“Righteous souls. Strong-willed souls. Pure souls. Those are what demons truly value. They’re the fine-dining courses. That girl who beat you? She’s exactly that. The good stuff.”

“But sometimes, you want junk food.”

From that perspective, Malik was perfect.

Ugly, lazy, selfish, and foolish.

A small vessel with outsized ambition. Someone who hated effort, yet demanded praise and admiration.

When a demon whispered sweet temptations, he didn’t even think to be suspicious.

“That’s why I picked you. That’s why I cheered you on. I knew you’d jump headfirst into self-destruction if I just nudged you a little.”

Like watching a cat chase its tail, some kinds of stupidity are entertaining just to observe.

That was why Balzares never cared when Malik threw fits or hurled insults.

It was all part of the show.

But now—

“Now you’re afraid? You’re holding back because she scares you? Oh, come on. Don’t disappoint me. When did you ever become so rational? Your role is to charge in blindly when someone gives you a push!”

Even as he used the word friend, there was not a trace of respect or affection in Balzares’s voice.

Only now did Malik realize—

This demon had never once called him by name.

As if remembering his name wasn’t even worth the effort.

“Y-you bastard!! Who the hell do you think you’re playing with!?”

In a burst of fury, Malik shoved Balzares away, drew his staff, and aimed it at the demon.

He fired a flaming sword.

Fwoosh!

But it veered—and stabbed directly into his own head.

Ssssss... came the sound of burning flesh, boiling blood, and brain matter.

His tongue hung limp, his eyes rolled in wild spirals, twitching and unfocused.

Despite the grotesque sight, Balzares didn’t blink. He simply snapped his fingers.

With that alone, the flaming sword vanished. The gaping wound healed instantly.

But his tongue still dangled grotesquely, and his eyes remained disturbingly skewed, making the horror even more vivid.

“Alright then, let’s do this instead. Since you don’t want to kill her, you’ll drive that Eris girl into a corner. So badly that she truly believes her life is in danger.”

“Then I’ll appear before her and whisper: If you don’t want to die, make a contract with me.”

“She lives, I get a new contractor, and I get into Celestial Academy. You get your revenge. Everyone wins! A brilliant plan!”

“Don’t bother thanking me, friend—what are friends for?”

Balzares cackled with glee.

Malik remained silent, his twisted face frozen.

Not until that moment did Balzares seem to notice something was off.

“Oh?”

With that, he extended a finger—and jammed it straight into Malik’s eye.

Squelch... squelch...

Disgusting sounds echoed as Malik’s eyes rotated back into place.

Then, Balzares sliced off the protruding part of Malik’s tongue with a clean swipe—and at last, his mouth closed properly.

Staring at the punctured eyes and stub of a tongue, Balzares nodded in satisfaction.

Then he snapped his fingers once more.

And this time, Malik’s face returned to perfect condition.

“Sometimes, taking the long way around adds a bit of richness to life.”

He said it with a pleased sigh.

And then, the demon burst into laughter.

It was a demon’s laugh.