Here’s the English translation of the provided novel excerpt, adhering to the given glossary terms:
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422 Royal Capital Jeruit #1
“This is a luxurious guest room borrowed as the royal family’s private property…!”
Declared boldly and proudly by Mirnoi, the Nymph of Ditch Water—a 7th-grade clerk employed by the royal family.
Even in the dead of night, the garden was aglow with all sorts of dazzling lights. Fountains. Winged statues of small angels. Beyond them, a radiant mansion.
Inside, the spacious marble-floored lobby and towering pillars supported a ceiling adorned with sparkling chandeliers.
While the great city of Sodomora remained trapped in the medieval era, still struggling to escape the Age of Darkness, the facilities of the royal capital seemed to have arrived straight from the Baroque period—an era that loved grandeur.
It was easy to see why our group had been eagerly anticipating our arrival in the royal capital. Even back on Earth, I had never traveled much, but this ignited a small spark in my heart.
This is amazing.
My private room was even more splendid. A bed too large for one person, exquisite furniture, a warmly crackling fireplace, and a balcony with a sweeping view.
Hippolyte, who had been looking around my room, remarked:
“A night here must cost at least 1 gold. Truly befitting a hotel directly managed by the royal family. Absolutely splendid.”
1 gold just to stay a single night?
“Aah! There are so many candies here…! Goodness, these aren’t just hardened honey—they’re rare treats infused with fruit juices…!”
Paranoi, the Nymph of Ditch Water, gasped in surprise at the basket overflowing with candies. True to her words, the candies—wrapped in packaging—ranged from grape to orange and even pomegranate flavors.
Mirnoi, the Nymph of Ditch Water draped in fur, chimed in:
“You’re free to eat them…! In a provincial city like Sodomora, even seeing such things would’ve been difficult…!”
“Aah! You are a most excellent nymph…! I am Paranoi, the Nymph of Ditch Water…!”
Delighted to meet a nymph sister who resembled her, Paranoi approached with the signature nymph greeting—foreheads touching in a hipster-like fashion.
But—
“Don’t touch me so carelessly…!”
Mirnoi, as if deeply offended, slapped Paranoi’s forehead with her palm.
“Hyeek—!”
Paranoi let out a bizarre shriek, stumbling back a few steps from the sudden attack.
Swoosh—
Mirnoi flicked open a long fan.
“Before I am a nymph, I am a 7th-grade clerk of the royal castle…! This position wasn’t obtained through nymph quotas—I earned it through my own merit…! Comparing me to incompetent nymphs is a grave mistake…!”
Whatever the case, Mirnoi seemed to take immense pride in herself. A 7th-grade clerk working in the royal castle was essentially a civil servant, so her pride wasn’t entirely misplaced.
“I-I was just startled…”
Paranoi rubbed her reddened forehead, glancing at Doris and Ignoy for support, but they merely shrugged, equally bewildered.
—
After roughly unpacking, the next day, we enjoyed a lavish buffet meal and took the bustling nymphs shopping at the nearby central market.
What’s this? There are nymphs everywhere.
Is this a goddess’s procession…?
The sharp-eyed people of the royal capital seemed intrigued by our entourage, casting curious glances our way. With so many nymphs—divine messengers—and beautiful women among us, they likely mistook us for a divine entourage.
Luna, Hippolyte, Elpride—each possessed striking, unique beauty, so the misunderstanding was understandable.
In truth, Luna was an unconscious goddess, Hippolyte a demigod, and Elpride just a tomboy. Regardless, the key point was that we were drawing far more attention than necessary.
“Everyone, bow…! Behold the procession of Prince Hassan, the Prince of Ruin…!”
Seizing the moment, Paranoi loudly proclaimed. The gazes that had been fixed on the women now shifted toward me.
Prince of Ruin?
A prince from another kingdom? Or a prince of a fallen nation?
Ah, must be royalty from the land of Samaria. No wonder he’s dressed so finely despite his wild looks.
So it’s a royal procession. Last month, a princess from the duchy visited. Now a prince? Must be here to see Prince Friedrich.
The onlookers seemed to assume I was a prince from a distant land.
In an era where the gods remained silent, the idea of a foreign prince carried more weight than that of a divine son.
Me, a prince?
The thought was slightly embarrassing.
Of course, Paranoi swiftly corrected that notion.
“Prince Hassan is the one and only son of Lord Pluto…! The confirmed successor to the throne of Hell…! A human incarnation of d*ath itself, trembling before his might…!”
Pluto’s son?
Ah, a divine child. That explains the nymphs…
The crowd’s reaction shifted instantly. The curiosity in their eyes was replaced by fear and dread.
…Should we run?
While Sodomora had once worshipped Pluto, the terror associated with his name in the royal capital remained strong—like an indelible mark.
“And let us not forget Paranoi…! Paranoi is the Margrave of Hell’s Frontier, a being far superior to a mere 7th-grade clerk of the kingdom…! A position not obtained through nymph quotas…!”
This d*mn brat.
Still sore from getting smacked by that nymph clerk yesterday, huh?
No wonder she asked me this morning:
“Prince Hassan, would you say the Margrave of Hell’s Frontier outranks a kingdom’s clerk…?”
I roughly covered Paranoi’s mouth with my palm.
“Quiet. We came to sightsee, not draw unnecessary attention.”
According to Mirnoi, the clerk, we wouldn’t enter the royal castle until tomorrow.
Today was meant to be a free day to recover from the long carriage ride. I had no intention of wasting it on Paranoi’s noisy antics.
Thus, we spent the day carefully avoiding attention, admiring the statues and monuments erected throughout the capital.
“Did I buy too many clothes? I’ve never shopped for winter wear before, so I went overboard—! Got some for Doris too…!”
“This one, Doris, has not experienced winter in a long time…!”
“Spending money is the most fun thing in the world…!”
After finishing our shopping, we climbed a high hill to take in the panoramic view of the royal capital.
A vast city, nearly 100,000 strong, surrounded by towering walls.
And at its heart, perched atop a high cliff, stood the royal castle—a breathtaking sight. It felt like stepping into a scene from a fairy tale.
Do the people here see this view every day?
“Hassan, look—! It’s the royal family’s tomb!”
Luna’s voice rang out.
Turning, I spotted a small gravestone beneath a tree.
Vincent Friedrich’s Grave
Here, the Thunder King, Theo, struck down his elder brother Vincent Friedrich, leader of the cultists. With this, the rebellion was swiftly quelled, securing peace for the royal family and the continent—
Vincent Friedrich?
That’s Valtma, the old man from Mars Guild.
A grave for someone still alive—how bizarre.
But this wasn’t the only monument. Throughout the capital, there were many commemorations of the cultist rebellion and its suppression roughly 25 years ago.
Elpride, observing them, spoke up:
“Thunderblade had an older brother—Vincent, the one mentioned on that gravestone. Given the Gaia Continent’s preference for legitimate heirs, he should’ve been king.”
“Oh?”
My indifferent response seemed to please her, as she eagerly continued:
“But he lacked the makings of a king. So factions arose—those supporting his younger brother Thunderblade and Vincent’s loyalists. A civil war broke out, and Thunderblade’s victory made him king.”
Unusual for an elf, an outsider, Elpride seemed well-versed in the continent’s history. Probably from reading all day.
Bookworms often itch to share obscure knowledge.
Like old man Platan, the scholar. Elpride was the same—she clearly enjoyed flaunting her knowledge, whether about dragons or history.
“Vincent had the support of wealthy Pluto devotees, while Thunderblade was backed by shrine knights who wanted to curb their influence.”
According to Elpride, the early war favored the wealthy Pluto followers, but with Jupiter’s aid, the shrine knights gradually turned the tide.
Many devotees prayed to Pluto, but he remained silent.
This happened about 25 years ago—around the time I was born.
Which meant my father had already vacated his throne by then.
His absence decided the kingdom’s fate, altering the course of history for its royals.
A civil war. Clear victors and losers.
The defeated Pluto devotees became cultists.
“Lord Pluto was not silent…! He sent his precious son to rectify the outcome…!”
Paranoi’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
“Prince Hassan will depose the usurper Thunderblade and his heir, restoring Pluto’s high priest as king to paint a righteous future…!”
“Paranoi, don’t say that in front of nobles tomorrow.”
“Of course I know that…!”
—
I had some concerns.
Luna, Hippolyte, and Elpride’s entry into the royal castle was delayed due to complicated procedures.
I wanted to tour the castle too…! Hassan, see it for me!
The nymphs adored Luna, so without her, I worried today’s performance might flop.
There really are nymphs everywhere.
Can I pet them?
But the nymph performance went smoother than expected.
Having already performed before crowds once, they didn’t panic or cry, finishing without incident.
Afterward, the nymphs were free to explore the castle while we waited for Thunderblade to arrange an audience.
Under the pretext of supervising them, I wandered the castle freely, thanks to the VIP gold badge around my neck—granting access even to sensitive areas.
One such place was the royal treasury.
A repository of treasures collected by Jeruit’s rulers since mythical times.
Rumors claimed its scale rivaled Pluto’s underground vault.
“Prince Hassan, you may look, but do not touch. The treasury is closed today, but we’re making an exception for you.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t touch a thing.”
I reassured the guards as they began unlocking the thick iron doors.
The locks—seven layers of intricate mechanisms—would’ve been difficult even for me to break or pick.
“Impressive security. Do you go through this every time?”
“Better than theft. Not even Hydra could crack these locks.”
“Hydra?”
I pictured a multi-headed monster. Did it hoard treasure?
As I frowned slightly, a guard added:
“The infamous thief guild. Heard they were based in Sodomora. Word is, you wiped them out. True?”
“Ah.”
The Hydra Thief Guild.
They were technically eradicated—though I’d accidentally become their king.
Their leaders had been absurdly skilled—picking locks with bizarre tools like magic.
If even they couldn’t breach this vault, it spoke volumes.
Clank, creak—
The doors finally opened, releasing a surprisingly fresh gust of air.
Whoosh—
Before me stretched a red-carpeted floor, radiant lamps, and glass displays housing strange artifacts—like a museum.
Lightning That Never Struck
Fragment of Achilles’ Armor
Medusa’s Head
Golden Apple
Self-Portrait of Helen, the Beauty Who Shook Nations
Though I didn’t recognize most items, they seemed priceless.
But one object drew my gaze—
The Tyrant’s Key
A skull-adorned key.
One of three keys said to open Hell’s gates.
This should’ve been part of my inheritance.
So it was here all along.
Just finding it melted my winter journey’s fatigue like snow.
But how do I get it?
Steal it now?
No—that’d land my name in headlines.
As I pondered—
“Need a guide?”
A voice from behind. Thin, yet brimming with confidence.
Gasp.
I whipped around like a caught thief.
Before me stood a bob-cut so golden it could pass for platinum.
A delicate face, a uniform studded with medals—like an elite guardsman.
“Your Highness—!”
“What brings you here—?”
The bowing soldiers confirmed it—this could only be him.
But my vision swam.
“You… you’re the prince?”
“Obviously. Who else in this castle would be called ‘Your Highness’?”
“No… I don’t know you.”
“Zigress—no, Hassan the Arsonist of Sodomora. This isn’t our first meeting. Or are you pretending otherwise? Acting like strangers?”
“Though our first meeting wasn’t pleasant—”
Prince Pride Friedrich trailed off.
True, we had met before.
But I’d been disoriented, distracted. Never this close. And he’d been in stiff armor then.
Still, how could I mistake this?
My trembling gaze dropped to his chest.
Thud—
There, swaying with each step, was something no prince should possess—soft curves entirely unbefitting the title.
What in the world is this?
His name was Pride Friedrich.
And he’s supposedly my son.
Only then did I understand why Thunderblade, Theo Friedrich, had scowled as if admitting Pride was his heir was the worst possible fate.
“Wait, holy hell—you’re a woman!”
“How dare you! Lord Zigress! His Highness Pride is the prince—!”
The prince was, in fact, a princess.
This dizzying truth hit me like vertigo—I nearly fainted.
—
[Author’s Note]
By the way, this Michury doesn’t actually like princes…
Princesses are better…
I think readers prefer princesses too…
While plotting, I considered having the prince interact with Hassan to create tension…
But I couldn’t stand it, so I revealed the truth early…!!!
(7-9 minutes)
Royal Capital Jeruit
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This translation maintains the original tone, pacing, and glossary terms while ensuring readability in English. Let me know if you’d like any refinements!
