The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character

A man who looked impressive on the surface but lacked substance.

That was how people described Travers Brown, a merchant from the Kingdom of Ravellocia.

With his striking appearance and eloquent speech, he excelled at stirring up expectations and winning goodwill—qualities not useless for a merchant, certainly, but that was about as far as it went.

The ability to spot valuable goods or talented individuals.

The insight to follow the flow of money and ride its waves.

The boldness to take risks and make daring plays—and the skill to win in those games.

Most of these abilities, possessed by his grandfather and father—renowned as some of the wealthiest merchants in the kingdom—were not passed down to Travers. Nor did the Brown Trading Company have any talented heirs or lieutenants to replace him.

That was because, for generations, the company had been run essentially as a one-man operation by whoever held the title of head.

The company still managed to hold on—thanks to its size and the solid foundation laid over generations—but it was clear to anyone paying attention that the longer things went on like this, the worse it would get.

Just as Travers began to suffer under the weight of this pressure—caught between anxiety and expectation—a mysterious presence appeared in his dreams.

“─You seem troubled. Is something bothering you?”

He couldn’t see the speaker.

The voice simply echoed from somewhere deep within the endless darkness.

Perhaps it was because he thought it was just a dream. Or maybe the voice sounded so gentle and compassionate that it disarmed him.

Whatever the reason, Travers found himself spilling his worries, venting like one might to a stranger.

The voice listened patiently.

And when he awoke, Travers didn’t feel unsettled.

If anything, he felt lighter, as if he'd finally let go of something that had been festering deep inside.

That was when the strange events began.

A criminal group that had been extorting money from the Brown Trading Company—by leveraging its vulnerabilities—suddenly self-destructed due to infighting.

The headache was gone, and Travers was delighted.

That night, he fell asleep in a good mood.

And once again, the mysterious presence returned.

“─Did my help work? Has your problem been solved, even just a little?”

Drowsily, Travers answered yes.

That it had helped. That his problem was resolved, thanks to them.

The voice asked:

“Really? Then... shall I help you a little more?”

Still in a haze, Travers nodded.

There was no reason to refuse help.

When he woke up, there was a faint sense of unease—but life quickly swept him along, and he forgot about it.

A few days later.

An artisan who had repeatedly refused to do business with him—despite Travers bowing and begging—suddenly came knocking on his door, asking for a contract.

And that night, again:

“Did you like my little gift? I’m glad your troubles are over.”

This time, Travers asked a question.

Who are you? Why are you helping me?

The voice replied that such details were irrelevant.

What mattered wasn’t who they were—but whether Travers needed help or not.

“So, what do you think? Want me to help again?”

That sweet, tempting voice asked.

And this time, Travers shook his head.

Something about it triggered an instinctive sense of dread.

But even at his firm refusal, the voice simply chuckled—it wasn’t angry.

It only said: If you ever need help, just call for me before you sleep.

Time passed.

Travers and the Brown Trading Company fell into crisis again.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

A newly appointed official in the territory demanded increasingly outrageous bribes in exchange for allowing commerce to continue.

The longer it went on, the worse it became, and Travers found himself drowning in anguish.

Eventually, he had no choice but to call upon the mysterious voice again.

“I see. You’ve had a hard time. Just wait a little while.”

He had refused help before, only to come begging again.

He thought that might upset the voice.

But instead, it responded with warmth and understanding—and granted his request once more.

This time, the Brown Company hadn’t done a thing—but another victim of the same official’s extortion reported him, and the man was dismissed from his post.

And so it continued.

Every time Travers asked, the voice helped.

And with each time, Travers’s desire to solve problems on his own grew weaker.

Why bother with struggle, when a demon could fix everything so easily?

Every venture he touched succeeded. The Brown Company’s power and prestige soared. His subordinates admired him as a capable leader.

Travers was happy.

And then, one day—

“Sorry, but I think I have to go. I probably won’t be able to help you anymore.”

At the sound of the voice’s words, Travers felt as if the ground beneath him had collapsed.

He pleaded.

Begged ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) not to be abandoned.

Begged not to be left alone.

The voice seemed to consider for a moment, then asked:

“I can’t help you for free anymore. Is that still okay?”

Travers nodded.

As long as he could continue enjoying this glory, this happiness, this comfort—he was willing to pay any price.

At his answer, the voice let out a soft, delighted laugh.

The darkness that had veiled his vision began to recede, and beyond it appeared a figure with the shape of a human.

Jet-black hair like polished obsidian.

Eyes the color of crimson jewels.

Revealing attire of tight, dark leather.

Wings with a thin membrane, horns, and a long tail.

She was a demon—of exquisite, breathtaking beauty.

Just looking upon her face filled his heart with bliss. Just meeting her gaze made his body tremble uncontrollably.

“Travers. Travers Brown. Will you swear to obey my every word? Will you do anything I ask of you, no matter what?”

The demon’s voice no longer held the gentleness and warmth it once did.

It was arrogant, condescending—she made no effort to hide her disdain.

But even so, Travers didn’t dare resist.

No, he couldn’t even muster the thought of resistance.

His soul, already softened by the demon’s repeated “gifts,” crumbled completely the moment he saw her true form.

As Travers fell to his knees, swearing absolute obedience and loyalty, the demon—no, the archdemon Lucidra—looked down at him with bored, disinterested eyes.

She thought to herself: whether before her sealing, or now, reborn—the nature of humans hadn’t changed much at all.

And just like that, she took control of one of Ravellocia’s most powerful trading companies.

***

Eizern Empire – Golden Cloud Palace

“Oh? Ravellocia Kingdom, is it? Never visited myself, but from what I’ve heard, it sounds like a nice place.”

“Really? I thought it was smaller than Birka.”

“Size matters, yes—but it’s not everything. Ravellocia might be small, but it’s politically stable. They say its public safety and overall education level are quite high.”

Unlike the Kingdom of Birka, which failed to capitalize on its great potential due to poor governance, Ravellocia was a small but well-ruled nation thriving under competent leadership. That was how the crown prince remembered it.

“So, what’ll your next identity be? Are you going to become the kingdom’s strongest knight and slay a dragon? Or a shadowy noble pulling the strings behind the scenes? Or how about an infamous assassin who cuts down the king? I’ve prepared enough false backgrounds for you to pose as just about anyone, so go ahead—name it.”

To that, the crown prince replied:

“You sound completely addicted to dopamine. Not everything needs to be intense and thrilling. If I go around stirring up chaos everywhere I go, I’ll just be a nuisance to everyone around me.”

Lucidra blinked.

She stared at him with her mouth slightly open, unable to even form a response.

Her brain had no capacity left to process anything except trying to comprehend what she had just heard.

What? Not everything should be exciting?

What was this nonsense about avoiding chaos?

Listening to a lion give a lecture on vegan cooking—Lucidra froze in place.

Meanwhile, Alondre continued speaking casually.

“Sometimes people need to reflect. In that sense, I’ve been reconsidering things. Becoming an adventurer came from pure admiration. Being a butler was a balance of interest and duty. But becoming a phantom thief... that one leaned too much toward obligation. The gap between the ideal image of a ‘thief’ I had in my mind and reality caused the identity to lose direction at times.”

It had all turned out well in the end, thanks to meeting Dahlia—a hero in the making—but when judged solely by what Dauphin had accomplished, the crown prince felt some regret.

“So, I think it’s time to go back to basics. Put aside all the obligation, and simply enjoy a peaceful life. Ravellocia seems perfect for that. It’s not as chaotic as Birka. Feels like a good place to rest.”

“...You’re not going to ‘rest’ by tearing everything down again, are you?”

“As I said, I fundamentally respect rules and order. Unless I deliberately assume a role that defies them, that is.”

Lucidra didn’t believe him one bit.

A storm sitting quietly in the middle of a city is still a storm. No way everyone else is just going to stay calm.

Still... watching it unfold could be fun.

At least, it was more entertaining than tempting corrupt, miserable humans over and over.

Her eyes sparkled with anticipation.

“So, what identity do you want this time?”

The crown prince replied:

“Something that lets me read books at leisure. As a crown prince, I usually read out of necessity. I’d like to gather knowledge from various fields—just for curiosity’s sake.”

“How about a librarian? Wait, no—you’d have to actually work.”

“No, that’s not a bad idea. Reading alone is nice, but sharing your thoughts with others is also rewarding. A position where I can naturally interact with those seeking books... not a bad choice.”

The crown prince nodded, then paused as something came to mind.

“Could you look into the city of Aldridge for me?”

“Why? Do you know someone there?”

“It’s the hometown of one of my magic tutors. I’ve heard stories, but I’d like to see it for myself.”

“Sure, I’ll check it out.”

Lucidra agreed easily. It wasn’t her who’d be doing the hard work, after all.

“Have you chosen a name?”

“I’ll go with Ernest. I’ll change the surname based on the local setting.”

Librarian Ernest.

A new persona was born.