The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character-Chapter 63: Phantom Thief Dauphin (7). A Thief’s Day Off, A Guard’s Day Off

“Did you hear? Apparently, Dauphin failed to punish his target for the first time.”

“Hmm... that’s a little disappointing. I guess everything had gone too smoothly until now.”

“You don’t think he’ll get caught, do you? There are still so many scumbags out there who need to be punished!”

In the bustling streets of Lebruk, a man walked quietly.

He looked completely unremarkable.

So much so that if someone were to stop a passerby and ask, “Can you describe the man who just walked by?”—no one would be able to give a proper answer.

Which made sense, since the disguise had been designed to avoid attention.

[Hahaha! Everyone’s buzzing about your failure. You haven’t even been caught, but still—doesn’t that sting a little? Hmm?]

From within the man’s shadow, the high demon cackled, mocking him.

Lucidra, who had just returned to the Crown Prince’s side after slaving away day and night to pay off a lost wager, was quite pleased to find things in such a state.

After all, failure hits hardest for those who’ve never tasted it before.

The Crown Prince, who had always handled everything easily thanks to his remarkable talent, had failed to achieve his goal for the first time. How sweet that must taste!

Would he get angry at the demon’s taunting?

Or pretend to stay calm while secretly simmering inside?

Lucidra’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

‘Indeed, you're right—it is truly vexing! That guard girl was far more formidable than I anticipated! If I’m not careful, the entire plan could unravel!’

[...]

Wait, that’s... not what she expected?

Lucidra blinked from the shadows, staring at the man—not the Crown Prince, but Dauphin, disguised now as a perfectly ordinary civilian.

He wore a face so harmless, so plain... and yet there was something in his expression—something bright and excited.

‘I must admit, the events of last night forced me to realize how arrogant I’d become—and how blinded I was by my own bias. Honestly, I thought I wouldn’t encounter a real challenge until the Sarnos Knight Order was deployed. Who would’ve thought a mere guard would possess such skill? Isn’t it astounding?’

[You... kinda look happy for someone who’s supposedly disappointed?]

In response to Lucidra’s question, a smile broke out on Dauphin’s lips—one he didn’t even try to hide.

‘If I look that way to you, then perhaps it’s because my joy outweighs my disappointment.’

What defines a phantom thief?

Perfect tricks? Daring performances? Grand scale?

People might give all sorts of answers, but for Dauphin, the answer was clear:

A worthy opponent.

Police officers, investigators, detectives.

The details may differ, but those who work under the banner of law and order—those who seek to catch the phantom thief—are what complete him.

‘Yet at the same time, I’ve always thought of that as a dream I could never realize. Because, quite frankly, this land is the worst.’

The domain governed by House Redvell was, to put it mildly, not a place where the common folk lived well.

They squeezed their citizens dry to fill their coffers, and they ruled with authoritarian brutality to reinforce their power.

But at least that was driven by “efficiency” and “economics.”

The Marquess of Redvell might’ve been cold-hearted, but he wasn’t a fool who couldn’t tell profit from loss.

Sure, middle managers sometimes misinterpreted those directives, causing problems, but the policy of the house as a whole was grounded in that logic.

It wasn’t to Dauphin’s taste, but at least there was a foundation—if you offered them a “moral but profitable” alternative, they might actually consider it.

But the domain of Count Sarnos? It was worse—far worse.

The crimes committed by the ruling class here had neither logic nor efficiency.

They did it simply because they wanted to. Because they were angry. Because it amused them. Because they believed they were special and the lowborn were trash.

The lord refused to fulfill his duties as a ruler. The knights abandoned their pride as honorable warriors. The bureaucrats flattered their superiors while ignoring the pleas of the people.

Even Dauphin, who claimed to be a phantom thief, had acted more like a violent vigilante—because if all he did was quietly steal and redistribute goods, those victims would just be harassed again in broad daylight by those in power. That’s how broken the social order here was.

In a land like this, how could a phantom thief ever hope to meet a true “worthy opponent”?

That was why Dauphin had long abandoned the idea of having such a rival. Instead, he shifted his methods toward pure chaos—toppling every pillar of rot he saw.

[So what, that girl from last night is different? You think she’s the kind of opponent who fits your ideal of law, order, and justice?]

‘How could I possibly say that after just one encounter? But I did feel the potential. And now, I’m on my way to confirm it.’

What’s the beauty of being a phantom thief?

With just a single doppelgänger, you can transform your appearance through disguise—wear many faces, live many roles.

If he approached her boldly as “the phantom thief,” they’d never get a proper conversation going. So Dauphin planned to approach Dahlia disguised as a civilian.

Suppressing his rising excitement, he wandered the streets, searching for her.

And then—

“Get out of here this instant, you filthy wretch!!”

SPLASH!

He found Dahlia—getting doused with a bucket of water by an elderly woman.

Dauphin’s eyes narrowed.

***

“Hey! Turns out working under a competent captain really is a blessing, huh? Who knew one commendation from our squad leader would change how we’re treated this much?”

At that lighthearted remark from one squad member, the others began chiming in one after another.

“Seriously though, I didn’t think they’d actually convert our unused days off into paid leave. Knowing how the company commander usually acts, I figured he’d pretend those days didn’t exist.”

“Exactly! People need proper rest to work properly. After taking just one day off yesterday, I feel so light today I could fly.”

“Weren’t you the one who kissed up to the captain last time saying life feels more meaningful without holidays?”

“Ugh—what are you talking about? I never said that.”

“I like that the other squads treat us differently now more than the holiday part. They used to glare at us or snicker behind our backs, but now they actually seem cautious around us.”

“Really? I thought their stares were even more resentful now. Like their eyes are burning with jealousy.”

“Whatever. It’s not like they can say anything out loud.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“It’s kind of funny, isn’t it? When all we were doing was rounding up petty criminals, no one cared how good our captain was. Now they’re flipping the script.”

“Right? All hail Lord Dauph—Ack!”

“Hey, you idiot. Are you out of your mind?”

The squad member who had just raised both hands in mock praise was smacked hard on the back of the head by a teammate and toppled over.

As the rest of the squad began glancing sheepishly toward her, Dahlia scratched her cheek in awkward silence.

Praising a thief in the Guard was definitely grounds for a scolding, but knowing how the squad had been treated before, and the frustration they’d bottled up because of it, she couldn’t bring herself to chastise them openly either.

But she couldn’t agree with them either.

So... silence was all she could offer.

Trying to smooth over the awkward atmosphere, her vice-captain cleared his throat and spoke up.

“Ahem. Anyway, Captain, enjoy your rest today. I’ll make sure your armor and spear are polished up like new.”

Dahlia nodded.

“Thanks. I’ll be walking around Districts 6 through 8, so call me if anything urgent comes up.”

“...You are going to rest, right? Please don’t go patrolling on your day off again.”

She flinched slightly, then waved a hand quickly.

“N-No way! I wouldn’t do something like that without my gear.”

“You’re the one who beats up thugs barehanded. That excuse doesn’t really work for you.”

“It’s fine, really. Don’t worry. I’m heading out now!”

This chapter is updat𝙚d by freeweɓnovel.cøm.

Cutting off the conversation half-forcedly, Dahlia left the Guard headquarters.

Of course, despite what she’d said, her intention was very much to observe the district herself.

Thanks to the company commander’s threats, it was unlikely any guards would act out, but it wasn’t impossible that those who felt demoted might lash out on duty.

Though Dahlia had become something of a known name in the city, few actually recognized her.

That was because she always wore her full armor and kept her visor down while on patrol. Even people she’d helped or spoken with before rarely saw her actual face.

Though her casual clothing drew some attention for other reasons, Dahlia didn’t particularly care.

Like her vice-captain said, she could take down most opponents barehanded.

‘...They’re doing better than I expected.’

Wandering through the streets, she observed the patrol units and let out a small smile.

Contrary to her worries, she saw no guards taking out their frustration on civilians.

Their body language showed some laziness, and they weren’t exactly scanning their surroundings with enthusiasm—but even so, just being there had a clear effect on maintaining public order.

Most criminals don’t care how motivated guards are. Just the presence of armed officers nearby is enough of a deterrent.

‘If only things could always stay like this.’

That thought crossed her mind, but Dahlia knew such hopes weren’t realistic.

This was a special situation caused by the existence of Dauphin, nothing more.

Once he was caught, the company commander would no longer need to treat her so favorably.

He wouldn’t toss her aside the moment she fulfilled her use, probably, and things might remain a bit better than before as a precaution—but not everything would keep going the way she wanted.

She felt a little ridiculous thinking about what would happen after catching Dauphin before she’d even done so—but it was hard not to worry about her squad’s treatment, especially when they’d just started feeling proud and hopeful again.

“...Captain of the 8th Squad?”

Lost in thought as she walked, she turned her head at the sound of someone calling her name.

A middle-aged shopkeeper she’d once helped was watching her with a hesitant look.

Dahlia bowed politely.

“Hello, sir.”

“Oh-ho, now I’m sure. I thought I recognized your walk and your hair, but hearing your voice sealed it. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide, but I guess it turned out that way. I hope no other squad guards have caused you trouble?”

“Not that I’ve seen. They’re not exactly friendly or enthusiastic, but since there are more of them visibly around, even the local thugs have been keeping a low profile.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I heard you were promoted to the upper district after doing something big. Glad things worked out for you.”

Dahlia shook her head.

“It’s not a promotion. Here, there—both are streets I have to protect. It’s just a change of assignment.”

“Hah. You’re probably the only one who’d say this area and that one are the same.”

Their conversation caught the attention of other shopkeepers nearby, who began peeking over curiously.

“That’s really the captain? She looks like a completely different person without the armor.”

“Geez, I had a feeling she was something else even when suited up, but now that I see her like this—she’s really well-dev—Agh! Why’d you hit me, woman!?”

“Why do you think, you idiot! Watch that filthy mouth of yours!”

“I was just complimenting—ow! Ow! I’m sorry! I said I’m sorry!!”

As the married couple squabbled, laughter spread among the crowd—including Dahlia.

But then—

“...Miss, are you really the squad captain? The one who protected the tax officer from Dauphin?”

From a small corner stall, an old woman approached and asked.

Dahlia recognized her. The old woman often gave her water or smiled warmly while she was on patrol.

Dahlia welcomed her with a gentle smile, without any suspicion.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“...I see.”

The old woman muttered under her breath, then turned and disappeared into her stall.

Dahlia assumed she was fetching water like usual, but then she froze.

The old woman emerged again—and her face was twisted in raw fury and hatred.

“Get out of here, you rotten bitch!!”

SPLASH!

Water splattered over Dahlia, soaking her to the bone.

The shopkeepers who had just been laughing were stunned into silence.

The old woman, face contorted with venom, spat her words like poison.

“That trash! That bastard who tormented my daughter and drove her to take her own life! I wouldn’t be satisfied even if he were gutted alive and forced to eat his own entrails!! And you—you—why did you save him?! Why did you help him!? You should’ve let Dauphin punish him!! Everyone else got what they deserved—so why not him!? Why—WHY!!”

Thunk!

A tomato struck Dahlia’s head, staining her hair red.

The old woman began hurling anything within reach—fruits, vegetables, whatever was on hand.

Dahlia didn’t block, didn’t dodge.

She just stood there and watched.

Because the fury of a grieving mother, the despair of a woman who had lost her child—none of that gave her the right to defend herself.

“What kind of guard are you!? What kind of protector!? You leave the real filth to roam free, the ones who should be hanging from a rope! You curry favor with those pigs and dare to say you’re protecting us equally!? You’re laughing at us behind our backs, aren’t you!?”

The old woman’s words were filled with prejudice and misunderstanding.

She hadn’t currying favor with anyone.

She hadn’t mocked anyone.

She had only ever wanted to protect people with sincerity.

But faced with that fury—so raw, so grieving—what words could possibly be said?

Dahlia remained silent.

And that silence... was the wrong choice.

Feeling ignored, the old woman grabbed a small paring knife and lunged at Dahlia.

An elderly woman. Not a soldier. Not a trained fighter. Just a stall vendor.

Her movements were slow, clumsy, full of unnecessary motion.

Any one of the nearby shopkeepers could’ve stopped her.

But none moved.

Paralyzed by the sheer venomous rage pouring off the old woman, they were frozen in place.

Dahlia quietly closed her eyes.

The blade of a weak old °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° woman couldn’t kill her.

But it could slash her heart wide open.

No one could stop it.

No one had the right to stop it.

...Except for one man, who cared nothing for rights—but moved simply because it was what he wanted to do.

“Let that be enough, madam.”