The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character

Calastia, the capital of the Eizern Empire.

Inside the Golden Cloud Palace, where the crown prince resided, hundreds of personnel bustled about—and lately, they all seemed to be suffering from the same bizarre affliction.

Its name: “It’s all my fault” Syndrome.

“As His Highness’s personal physician, I failed to protect his health! This old man no longer deserves to live!”

“Disease stems from an unclean environment. This is all my fault as the head maid. I will return all my titles and property to the Golden Cloud Palace and live out the rest of my life as a hermit—please, grant me permission!”

“Ah! If only my sword had reached true mastery, I could have cut down even the illness tormenting His Highness! And yet I call myself both his guard and his martial instructor? I’m more useless than the kitchen knife the old cook uses!”

Watching this spectacle, the archdemon could only say:

“...What is wrong with these people?”

Lucidra was genuinely creeped out.

People get sick. It happens. But this level of overreaction? Really?

Even more absurd was the crown prince’s response.

Cough, cough. “A ruler bears all responsibility. If you are guilty, then I am guiltier still. Let us speak no more of this.”

The veiled threat—“If you keep blaming yourselves, I’ll take it as a personal insult”—was enough to shut everyone up in an instant. And after about three days in bed, Alondre got up like nothing had happened.

Lucidra was dumbfounded.

When his first clone, Bern, was destroyed, she had secretly been hoping the damage to Alondre would be serious.

The destruction of a clone caused backlash to the original. She had planned to use that moment of weakness to seduce him into forming a new contract.

But thanks to this freakish excuse for a human being, that plan fell apart.

And now, she was glad it had.

...If this much chaos erupted over a common cold, what would’ve happened if he’d actually collapsed coughing blood?

Forget a ruckus—the entire palace might’ve been flipped upside down.

There would’ve been an exhaustive manhunt to find the culprit, and Lucidra’s presence would’ve been exposed for sure.

She shuddered, imagining hundreds of fanatical loyalists charging toward her with bloodthirsty eyes.

“Are you alright? Do devils catch colds too?”

“It’s not that. More importantly—are you sure you should be up already?”

“I’m not quite at full strength, but paperwork isn’t a problem. I’ve decided to skip crown prince lessons for a while, so I’ll use that time to catch up on work. But if the backlog gets worse, I won’t be able to manage.”

“I thought you hated working. Why not just keep faking it and rest longer?”

At that, the crown prince looked at her.

With features like a finely carved statue and eyes full of quiet depth, even an archdemon like Lucidra should’ve felt her heart flutter... but didn’t.

After all, the look he gave her screamed, “Are you really saying that with a straight face?”

“What’s with that look?”

“Faking illness to avoid work is only a temporary solution. In the long term, it damages one’s reputation and credibility.”

Then, he added:

“Strictly speaking, I don’t hate work. I just hate doing nothing but work.”

“So that’s why you created a whole new identity to slack off as an adventurer?”

“Indeed. The life of an adventurer was thrilling.”

“Too bad you’re a terrible actor.”

Alondre flinched.

For the first time, the ever-perfect prince showed a crack—and Lucidra smiled like a true demon.

“You kept slipping into that pompous ‘noble prince’ tone, and even your speech patterns reverted now and then.”

“Mm.”

“And for someone pretending to be a commoner adventurer, why were you so absurdly knowledgeable about magic? From what I could tell, the stuff you taught that girl Blanca isn’t something commoners would know.”

“Ugh...”

“And in the end, you just openly admitted you were a clone.”

“Gah...”

Alondre let out a pained groan like he’d been shot through the heart, and then quickly tried to explain.

“But listen. Just disappearing without a word would’ve been a trashy move. ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ She might’ve lived the rest of her life blaming herself. I couldn’t tell her who I really am, but at the very least, letting her know that body was fake... it might ease her burden.”

“Hmph.”

Lucidra let out a light snort.

She couldn’t deny he had a point. He had done what he could to show sincerity.

The problem, however, was that from Lucidra’s perspective... it seemed that girl Blanca had interpreted things in a very different way.

Well... not my problem, is it? Might even be more fun to let it fester. If misunderstandings snowball and this guy suffers, that’s a win for me. Yep. No issues here.

Coming to that supremely demonic conclusion, Lucidra snapped her fingers.

Clad in her usual revealing, strangely shimmering outfit, Lucidra now stood before the crown prince in a white blouse and black dress pants—an outfit better suited for a corporate sales rep than an archdemon. With a tone to match her new appearance, she spoke to him like she was pitching a product.

“In light of all this, how about entering a new contract with me, Your Highness?”

“Your tone has changed. What exactly are you offering?”

“A spell to help you fully ‘immerse’ yourself in the role. It prevents interference between the original and the clone.”

Lucidra’s red eyes gleamed seductively.

On the surface, the pitch sounded great—prevents interference between the original and the clone.

But what it actually meant was closer to giving the clone a fully separate personality.

True, clones could always be erased by the original at any time, so rebellion wasn’t possible. But the clone still carried a portion of Alondre’s soul.

If Lucidra could seduce the clone during a vulnerable moment—say, while the real Alondre was asleep—it could lead to all kinds of delightful chaos.

“...Oh, if that’s all, I already made something myself. Don’t need it.”

A crack formed in Lucidra’s perfect devilish smile.

Meanwhile, Alondre continued calmly, completely unfazed.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“I added a few personal modifications to the original clone spell. Think of it like a main account and a sub-account—well, that might be hard to follow. To put it simply: the consciousness of the original and the clone are separated. The original can view the clone’s information, but not the other way around. The original can interfere with the clone, but the clone can only send requests. Even memory access is restricted.”

Lucidra blinked.

Then blinked again.

“...When the hell did you do all that?”

“Well, I was resting in bed for the past few days. I tinkered with it bit by bit. Made for good rehab.”

Rehab, he said.

But from what he just described, it wasn’t a minor adjustment—it sounded more like a full-on reinvention of the spell.

“Y-You can just do that? That’s not the kind of magic you can casually patch up! What about identity integrity?! Personality divergence?!”

Lucidra dropped her sales pitch entirely, her voice rising in hysteria. But Alondre answered calmly, without missing a beat.

“Actors who fully immerse themselves in a role sometimes forget they’re acting. But deep within, their core identity remains intact. This is just an application of that principle. It’s not as difficult as it sounds.”

“...Right. Of course.”

Lucidra gave up trying to make sense of it.

He was a human who could not only use but modify demon-grade clone magic without breaking a sweat. His mental structure clearly didn’t function like a normal person’s. Trying to apply normal logic was pointless.

“So then, what are you doing with the next clone? Going to revive Bern or something?”

“I did consider stopping by to check on Blanca, but... no. That’d be pushing it. Even if Blanca could keep it quiet, the other adventurers all believe Bern died. And it happened in the lich’s dungeon, no less.”

A supposedly dead adventurer sneaking off to meet one of the key witnesses in a secret reunion? Suspicious was an understatement.

Alondre genuinely wished for Blanca’s growth and success—he didn’t want to be the reason she got caught up in unwanted rumors.

“So... a new clone, then. What’s the plan this time?”

“I intend to dig deeper into the Birka Kingdom.”

From Bern’s perspective, Birka had been a complete mess.

Especially the nobility and royalty, who had all but allowed threats like goblin lords and liches to thrive unchecked within their borders. It was like a new, creative method of national suicide.

“There was a rumor Renya mentioned that caught my attention.”

“A rumor?”

“There’s a noble house in Birka—one of the most powerful and influential in the kingdom. But apparently, the young lady of the house has such a nasty temperament that her servants change every other day. Normally, a house with that much prestige would staff only the most trustworthy aides, but even that’s been neglected. They just throw in whoever’s available.”

“So either a spoiled brat with a rotten temper, or a natural-born sadist who enjoys tormenting others. Either way, not someone well-adjusted.”

“Exactly. That’s why I plan to infiltrate the house as a servant.”

“...You, the Crown Prince, are going to be a servant in another country’s noble household?”

“Immersing yourself in a role requires that kind of commitment. And besides, there are only so many ways someone with no known identity can get close to nobility. This is the most plausible option.”

Then, Alondre added:

“Spending time with Blanca made me realize something. I rather enjoy nurturing talent. If I can take a foul-tempered noble girl and turn her into a future wise ruler, that contributes to stabilizing the Birka Kingdom. Personal fulfillment and the public good, aligned.”

“Wouldn’t it benefit the Empire more if Birka stayed unstable?”

“That’s short-sighted. If undead armies or a goblin kingdom rise up, we’ll be dragged into it too. If your neighbor’s house catches fire, you don’t ignore it—you put it out before it spreads.”

“Yes, yes. You’re so wise and noble.”

Lucidra rolled her eyes, then asked:

“So? What’s the name this time?”

Alondre answered:

“Cedric.”