I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Chapter 646: The Kastorian Prince’s shadow

”Haruka.”

The moment Ryuuki spotted Haruka entering with their son cradled in her arms, his entire face transformed with a warm, genuine smile. He immediately stood up from his seat and walked toward her with the eager energy of a devoted father who couldn’t resist being near his child.

Everyone around the dining tables reacted with similarly positive expressions, smiles appearing naturally as they caught sight of the baby. Several Heroes leaned forward or turned in their seats to get a better view of little Ryuuji.

It was admittedly quite strange when they stopped to think about it objectively.

One of their former classmates—someone they’d sat beside in boring lectures and complained about homework with—was now a father. The transformation from high school student to parent seemed impossibly vast, like a lifetime of change compressed into just three years.

But somehow, they’d all gradually become accustomed to this reality. It had been three full years after all, and none of them were high schoolers anymore, regardless of how much they might sometimes still feel like confused teenagers. They’d aged, matured, been forced to adapt to circumstances far beyond anything their former lives had prepared them for.

Ryuuki carefully took baby Ryuuji from Haruka’s arms with practiced gentleness, holding his son with the confident ease of someone who’d learned through repetition exactly how to support an infant’s fragile head and body. A tender smile spread across his face as he gazed down at the small life he’d helped create.

Haruka smiled warmly watching them, maternal satisfaction radiating from her expression.

”He just woke up from his nap not long ago,” she explained, her voice carrying that particular soft quality mothers developed when discussing their children.

”And he’s already this loud and energetic,” Ryuuki added with affectionate amusement as Ryuuji made increasingly demanding sounds. ”Takes after his mother, clearly—never quiet when awake.”

”Oh, he’s so cute!”

”Absolutely adorable!”

”Kyaa! Look at his tiny hands!”

Multiple female Heroes immediately converged around Ryuuki and Haruka, drawn irresistibly toward the baby like moths to flame. They squealed with delight upon seeing little Ryuuji up close, their voices rising to pitches that made several of the male Heroes wince. The girls cooed and made exaggerated expressions, trying to elicit smiles or reactions from the infant.

”Damn, I seriously still can’t believe Ryuuki has an actual kid,” Teiji said from his seat, shaking his head with a mixture of disbelief and something that might have been envy. ”It feels surreal. Like, that’s our former classmate, and he’s got a whole baby now.”

”Are you perhaps jealous, Teiji-kun?” Yumiko asked with a teasing laugh, glancing back at him from where she’d joined the cluster around the baby. ”Wishing you had your own little family?”

”Well, I’m definitely not ready for children yet,” Teiji replied defensively, though his tone carried uncertainty. ”I’m still waiting for the right girl to settle down with first...”

His gaze drifted obviously and unsubtly toward Akane, who remained seated at the table and appeared completely oblivious to his longing stare.

”Really? That’s interesting,” Kazuto interjected dryly, pushing his glasses up with one finger. ”Because I’m fairly certain I’ve seen you with several different women over the past year or so. Quite a few, actually, if memory serves.”

”Hey, come on, man!” Teiji immediately glared at Kazuto, his face flushing with embarrassment and anger at being called out so publicly. ”That’s completely different! Those were just—”

But Kazuto simply shrugged with complete indifference to Teiji’s distress, as though he’d merely stated an objective observation rather than revealed something potentially damaging.

The uncomfortable truth was that most of the male Heroes had taken considerable advantage of their elevated status and the unique opportunities their position afforded. The women of Kastoria—particularly those of noble or wealthy backgrounds—would wish for nothing more than to bear a child carrying the blood of a divinely summoned Hero. Such offspring would be seen as blessed, special, politically valuable.

Teiji obviously hadn’t passed up those readily available opportunities to sleep with various willing women, despite being a hormonal teenager with limited impulse control. Though his true romantic target had always remained Akane, the unattainable ideal he genuinely cared about.

He’d carefully kept these casual encounters hidden from Akane specifically, not wanting her to be disgusted by his behavior or think less of him. But Kazuto’s casual revelation had just demolished that careful discretion in a single sentence.

Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—Akane didn’t even seem to be paying attention to the conversation. Her focus remained elsewhere, her expression serene and distant as though the entire discussion was occurring in a different room.

The female Heroes, on the other hand, gave Teiji absolutely disgusted looks, their expressions conveying exactly what they thought of his activities.

They’d all witnessed how most of the boys in their former class had behaved like perpetually horny adolescents, sleeping with different women nearly every night, treating their status as Heroes like an all-access pass to consequence-free debauchery. It was honestly revolting to watch people they’d once respected descend into such shallow hedonism.

In the end, Ryuuki stood out as genuinely decent, having committed himself exclusively to Haruka and Yumiko too despite surely having countless other opportunities. Kazuto also appeared to have restrained whatever urges he experienced, maintaining his dignity and self-control.

Though in Kazuto’s case, that restraint probably stemmed from having developed an intense crush on Princess Kaguya—an utterly unreachable target, like trying to climb an impossibly tall mountain that disappeared into clouds. The divine woman seemed completely impassive to such mortal emotions, showing no awareness whatsoever of Kazuto’s carefully hidden feelings.

”Did you need something specific, Haruka?” Ryuuki asked then, recognizing that she’d come here with purpose beyond simply showing off their son. ”Or did you just want to visit?”

”Yes, actually—I came to deliver important news,” Haruka confirmed, her expression becoming more serious and formal. ”Kaguya-sama has decreed that a grand ceremony will be held soon to formally crown Ryuuji as the official crown prince and acknowledged heir to the throne of Kastoria.”

The dining hall fell into surprised silence as everyone processed that announcement.

They’d expected something like this eventually, of course—the succession had to be formalized at some point. But none of them had anticipated an actual elaborate ceremony, and certainly not this soon when Ryuuji was still just an infant.

”Is everything alright?” Ryuuki asked immediately, concern sharpening his voice. ”Why the sudden rush? What’s prompting this urgency?”

His protective instincts were clearly triggered, sensing potential danger behind the accelerated timeline.

”I suppose Kaguya-sama wants to move quickly and establish Ryuuji’s legitimacy before my older brother attempts something problematic,” Haruka said, her expression growing complicated and troubled. ”She wants to present the accomplished fact before he can maneuver against it.”

Everyone fell into heavy, uncomfortable silence hearing that explanation.

Haruka’s older brother.

Crown Prince Takehiko.

Just the mention of his name created tension in the room, a collective awareness of the dangerous political situation that name represented.

Takehiko had been formally banished from the capital four years ago—before the Heroes had even been summoned—because Kaguya had judged him fundamentally unfit to rule. Her divine authority had overridden normal succession laws, declaring that despite being the legitimate male heir, Takehiko’s character and actions disqualified him from inheriting the throne.

Technically, by traditional law and bloodline, the throne absolutely should pass to him as the eldest son. But Kaguya had refused to allow it, recognizing that he was not a good man—cruel, ambitious in the worst ways, lacking the wisdom and compassion necessary for leadership.

But banishment hadn’t eliminated Takehiko’s ambitions or influence. Since his exile from the capital, his power had actually grown considerably in the shadows, spreading through the provinces beyond Kaguya’s direct oversight.

Most significantly, nearly all the traditional samurai clans—the warrior nobility that formed Kastoria’s military backbone—had chosen to align with Takehiko rather than supporting Haruka. Whether through genuine loyalty, political calculation, or intimidation, those powerful families had thrown their considerable weight behind the exiled prince.

Haruka, by contrast, had Kaguya’s divine backing and the Heroes of Kastoria as her champions. But was that genuinely enough to counter an entire faction of the kingdom’s traditional military elite?

That question haunted everyone who understood the political situation. It was precisely why people had been so relieved and celebratory when Haruka gave birth to a male heir—a boy who could serve as a rival claimant to counter Takehiko’s legitimacy, someone who carried both royal blood and divine blessing through his father.

”So this ceremony is essentially Kaguya-sama making a definitive political move,” Kazuto said quietly, his analytical mind immediately grasping the strategic implications. ”Publicly establishing Ryuuji as the rightful heir before Takehiko can consolidate enough power to make a serious play for the throne. Creating facts on the ground that would be difficult to overturn without open civil war.”

”Essentially, yes,” Haruka confirmed with a slight nod. ”The longer we wait, the stronger elder brother’s position becomes in the provinces. We need to act decisively while Kaguya-sama’s authority still holds absolute weight in the capital and surrounding regions.”

”Will Takehiko be invited to the ceremony?” Yumiko asked nervously. ”Or informed about it at all?”

”He’ll certainly learn about it quickly enough through his intelligence network,” Haruka replied. ”Whether he’ll actually attempt to attend or send representatives... that remains unclear. Kaguya-sama is preparing for multiple contingencies.”

The unspoken implication hung heavy in the air: the ceremony could potentially become a flashpoint for open conflict if Takehiko decided to make his move.

The Heroes exchanged worried glances, suddenly understanding that what sounded like a joyful celebration might actually be the opening moves of a succession crisis that could tear Kastoria apart.

And they would be standing right at the center of it, whether they wanted to be or not.

”Don’t worry about it too much, Haruka,” Ryuuki said warmly, offering his most reassuring smile as he gently rocked their son. ”Everything will work out alright. We’ll make sure of it.”

He spoke with the confident optimism that came naturally to him, the unwavering belief that things would somehow turn out well if they just stayed determined and worked together.

But Haruka’s expression remained troubled, unconvinced by his well-meaning reassurance.

”I honestly don’t know if optimism is enough this time,” she said quietly, her voice carrying genuine fear that she rarely allowed others to see. ”Despite all my brother’s moral failings and cruelty, he is genuinely, undeniably fit to be King in terms of capability and political acumen. Far more so than me, if I’m being brutally honest with myself.”

She paused, her arms wrapping around herself in an unconscious protective gesture.

”And the uncomfortable reality is that some people—many people, actually—won’t be willing to wait for Ryuuji to grow up before demanding resolution to the succession question,” Haruka continued, her words coming faster as suppressed anxiety spilled out. ”That means at least fifteen or twenty years of uncertainty and potential instability. And during all that time, my elder brother will only be getting stronger, consolidating more power, building more alliances. By the time Ryuuji is old enough to actually rule, Takehiko might be completely unassailable.”

Her assessment was coldly logical and deeply concerning. Everyone listening could see the truth in her analysis, and concerned expressions spread throughout the gathered Heroes as the full scope of the political problem became clear.

They’d been viewing this somewhat simplistically—good princess with cute baby versus evil exiled prince. But the actual situation was far more complicated and dangerous than that fairy-tale framing suggested.

”But you have us supporting you, Haruka,” Yumiko interjected, standing up with determined energy. ”We’re the Heroes of Kastoria—summoned by divine will specifically to protect this kingdom. That has to count for something significant, right?”

She looked around at her fellow Heroes, trying to rally them.

”And more importantly, you have Princess Kaguya’s complete backing,” Yumiko continued with growing confidence. ”She’s literally the daughter and divine messenger of Amaterasu herself—the supreme Goddess who founded this entire kingdom. If Amaterasu wants Ryuuji to eventually become King instead of Takehiko, then people will have no choice but to accept that divine judgment, won’t they?”

That was actually a compelling point, and several Heroes nodded with renewed hope.

If the supreme deity of their pantheon—the Goddess who had created Kastoria and whose divine favor sustained the kingdom—explicitly supported one succession outcome over another, surely that would be decisive. Mortals couldn’t defy the will of the Gods themselves, regardless of their personal preferences or political calculations.

But even as that optimistic reasoning took hold, Haruka’s expression twisted with something that looked almost like physical pain. Her face contorted with barely suppressed anguish and fear that went beyond ordinary political concerns.

”My elder brother...” Haruka began, then stopped, clearly struggling to force out words that felt dangerous even to speak aloud.

Everyone leaned forward slightly, sensing that whatever she was about to reveal would be significant and probably terrible.

”My elder brother is supported by Lord Susanoo,” Haruka finally said, the words coming out barely above a whisper but landing like a thunderclap in the suddenly silent dining hall.