The Reincarnated Prince And His Rune Dominion

Inside one of the royal castles, a woman gently cradled her one-year-old child, humming a soft lullaby as she walked across the sunlit hall. Behind her, a maid dressed in traditional livery followed closely, her face etched with concern.

“Your Majesty, please reconsider taking the young prince outside. His fever only just broke.”

The queen smiled softly and replied, “It’s alright, isn’t it? Look… he’s healthy now.”

She pulled her child closer and brushed his tiny head with tender fingers.

“Isn’t that right, Victor…?”

The baby blinked up at her, his expression filled with wonder.

Where am I? I was just inside a plane… but now I’m being held by a beautiful giant woman? Wait... my hands, so small. My legs too… like a baby’s.

Is this… reincarnation?

He stared at his tiny fingers, still nestled securely in the queen’s arms. As his thoughts swirled, the queen lifted him gently and offered her breast.

“Victor, aah~,” she cooed softly with a mother’s smile.

Startled, his mouth opened reflexively. After a moment’s hesitation, he began to nurse.

I suppose I’ll have to drink this… for growth, he thought, resigned but practical.

While nursing, he glanced around.

A large, opulent house, no, it was more like a royal castle. Dozens of maids stood silently in waiting, and even the guards appeared to be entirely women.

The queen turned slightly and asked the head maid, “Is something the matter?”

The woman bowed respectfully.

“Nothing urgent, Your Majesty. But… His Majesty the King will return shortly.”

At that, the queen’s expression softened. Her gaze drifted back to the baby in her arms.

“Oh… I hope he’s no longer angry about this,” she murmured.

The atmosphere grew slightly tense. Yet the infant prince was still lost in thought, trying to decipher the words being spoken, most of which sounded foreign and unintelligible to him.

What language is this? I don’t recognize it at all… Not even one of the 200 on G****e Translate…

Before he could ponder further, a voice echoed from the hallway:

“The King has arrived!”

At once, everyone straightened up. The air turned formal. As the grand doors opened wide,

thud… thud… thud…

measured footsteps reverberated through the room.

Guards and attendants immediately knelt and bowed their heads.

“Your Majesty,” they intoned in unison.

The king raised his hand calmly, his expression unreadable.

“At ease,” he said.

At his command, the room relaxed.

He walked toward the queen, his gaze steady, expression unreadable. Still cradling the child, the queen looked up at him, a trace of sadness in her eyes.

“…Are you still angry?” she asked softly.

The king’s face didn’t shift.

“That’s not the issue. You know how the noble factions operate in this kingdom…”

“Yes…” the queen replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked down at the baby in her arms.

“I only hope he’ll grow strong… strong enough to lead this nation one day,” the queen whispered.

The king’s cold gaze remained fixed on the child in her arms.

“…Yes,” he replied, his voice calm and expression unreadable.

As the two spoke quietly, a knock came at the door.

“Enter,” the king said softly.

At his command, a royal guard stepped in, bowed with practiced formality, and declared firmly,

“Your Majesty.”

The king nodded and asked with a curious glance, “What is it?”

The guard stepped forward and presented a sealed letter.

“A message, Your Majesty. From one of our spies.”

The king extended his hand without a word. The guard respectfully placed the letter into it.

Then, with another crisp salute, the guard said,

“By your leave, Your Majesty,” and prepared to exit.

“You may go,” the king responded with an air of casual authority, and both he and the queen gave a slight nod.

The guard bowed once more and exited silently.

As the doors closed behind him, the king opened the letter and quickly scanned its contents.

After a moment, he exhaled.

“…Hmph,” he muttered. Then, glancing at the queen, he said,

“It seems I’ll need to head to the office. I’ll be going now.”

Concern flickered across the queen’s face.

“My dear… what’s the matter?”

The king offered a small smile.

“Nothing serious. Just a minor dispute between federations.”

As he turned to leave, the queen called after him gently,

“Don’t work yourself too hard, my dear…”

The king paused briefly, then replied in a calm voice,

“Of course, my dear.”

POV - King Louis (Victor’s Father):

After bidding farewell to Valessia before my departure, a wave of weariness settled in.

But this is my duty… as it has always been.

I gazed out the carriage window, watching the forest blur past beneath the rising hills.

“Beautiful forest…” I murmured.

“It’s a shame it lies on the borderlands. Developing it would be difficult, and dangerous.”

Outside, I could hear the sound of hooves against the road and the idle chatter of my guards.

CLOP–CLOP–CLOP.

CLOP–CLOP–CLOP.

“The weather’s nice today, huh…”

“It is… yawn… My back’s sore from being in the saddle too long.”

“Well, what can we do? Everything was so sudden… The schedule was only confirmed yesterday.”

CLOP–CLOP–CLOP.

“But… why did His Majesty only bring 100 guards? Even the captains were left behind in the capital…”

-SMAK!-

A sharp smack landed on the back of his head.

“Idiot,” the other snapped. “His Majesty is the strongest Hero alive. We’re the ones slowing him down, have you forgotten that?”

“…Yeah, I guess you’re right,” the one who got hit muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

I overheard their conversation and allowed a small smile to form. Then, I leaned forward, slid open the carriage window, and called out,

“Hey… how much longer until we reach our destination?”

The guards immediately stiffened, startled by my voice, and quickly saluted from atop their horses.

“Your Majesty!”

I gave a small nod of acknowledgment. One of them responded promptly,

“We’ve just passed Wrynwood, Your Majesty. At our current pace, we estimate three to four more days before we reach Élysandria.”

I leaned back into my seat and nodded calmly.

“Very well… I’m counting on all of you,” I said with quiet authority.

Without hesitation, they answered in unison with sharp discipline,

“YES, SIR!!”

I returned their salute with a brief nod, and the two riders quickly split off, one moving forward to the front of the formation, and the other heading to the rear, barking orders to the other guards as they adjusted their positions.

Meanwhile, I settled back into my seat, letting my eyes drift to the stunning scenery unfurling outside the carriage window. The wind slipped through the small opening, carrying the scent of damp leaves and the crisp freshness of mountain air.

I exhaled slowly, allowing the silence to embrace me.

The serenity of nature stood in stark contrast to the weight of the mission that lay ahead.

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Four Days Later

After arriving at the capital of the Kingdom of Lyon, Élysandria, the Federation council meeting had already descended into chaos.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

-BAM!-

The King of Bansel slammed his palm against the table, his face red with fury. He pointed a trembling finger directly at the King of Munster.

“My troops were slaughtered! Your kingdom must take responsibility!” he roared.

The King of Munster shot up from his seat, equally enraged.

“What nonsense! Your forces attacked several villages in my territory! And now you dare accuse me?!”

The room erupted into shouts. Heated words flew across the long marble table. No one was listening anymore, only screaming to be heard.

I remained silent, simply shaking my head as I watched the chaos unfold.

The King of Lyon forced a strained smile, clearly trying to keep the peace. Meanwhile, the King of Versailles wiped nervous sweat from his brow, glancing anxiously around the room.

Several seats remained empty, rulers who had chosen not to attend, or who were simply too afraid to pick a side.

I muttered inwardly,

“This is exactly why we can't rush into decisions…”

---------------------------------

Three Hours Later

Still, no resolution.

Tempers had cooled, but only slightly, nothing was solved.

Then, the King of Bansel stood with cold finality.

“Then let war decide everything.”

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the chamber, robes sweeping behind him.

The King of Munster clenched his fists tightly, his jaw locked, but remained seated, fighting the urge to respond in kind.

Seeing how things had unfolded, the King of Lyon rose and offered a tired, bitter smile.

“Very well… let’s adjourn the meeting.”

He stepped away, followed silently by the King of Versailles.

I turned to the King of Munster.

“Alaric… it seems there's no other way. Strengthen your borders. Immediately.”

Alaric nodded grimly.

“I knew this would happen… he’s always been greedy.”

I gave his shoulder a firm pat.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

Together, we left the chamber, already preparing for the storm to come.