We sat in a tense, silence inside the royal moving carriage. My 6'4" blonde disguise took up most of the space, but my eyes remained fixed directly on my sister, Erina.
Why did she have to come here? After everything I did in the palace to keep her out of this mess...
“What is your problem?” Erina snapped, her hand instinctively twitching toward the hilt of her rapier as she caught my gaze. “Why the hell are you staring at me in that manner?”
“Because you are an untamed barbarian who previously tried to murder my beloved father,” I replied, my deep, disguised voice dripping with flat, fanatical seriousness. “Therefore, it is my sacred duty as his loyal son to keep a constant eye on your movements.”
Erina’s forehead visibly vein-popped. “I am going to kill you,” she whispered through gritted teeth, drawing her steel an inch out of its sheath.
“Will you two please just stop?” Princess Quina cut in, waving her hands in a desperate attempt to maintain royal decorum. She still wore her travel cloak, her white hair tied back tightly.
In the corner of the carriage, Shina didn't say a single word. She was simply huddled in her seat, vibrating with sheer, unadulterated anxiety.
“Sir Will,” Princess Quina reasoned, turning her gentle elven eyes toward me. “Your foster father, Lord Gurberr, isn't even inside this carriage. He is traveling safely in the lead transport at the front of the convoy.”
“Barbarians are exceptionally fast, Your Highness,” I deadpanned, looking right back at her. “If I look away for a single second, she could violently sprint out of the door and catch up to the front carriage to strike him down.”
Erina tightened her grip on her hilt so hard her knuckles turned chalk white. “I swear to the gods, the moment we step off this transport, I am slicing your tongue out...”
“WE ARE CROSSING THE BORDER LINE! WE ARE OFFICIALLY ENTERING THE BLOOD KINGDOM!” the driver suddenly announced through the speaking tube.
I pulled back the heavy velvet curtain of the window, bracing myself for the worst. Based on the church's propaganda, I expected to look out at a destroyed, desolate wasteland crawling with dying heretics and ravaged by a brutal pandemic.
But the sight that materialized before my eyes made my breath lock in my throat.
The country was not destroyed. There was no pandemic. On the contrary, the rolling hills were lush, the vibrant towns were bustling, and an atmosphere of absolute, serene peace blanketed the land. Unlike Krane’s impoverished, over-taxed countryside, the commoners here wore fine clothing, the roads were paved with pristine stone, and the local architecture was breathtakingly advanced.
The people whom the Sacred Soul church had branded as absolute heretics were somehow infinitely more prosperous than our own kingdom.
Princess Quina and Erina crowded around the window beside me, their faces instantly draining of all color. The foundation of their entire worldview had just shattered into a million pieces.
Hours later, the convoy rolled through the grand, towering gates of the heretical capital. We were escorted directly into a lavish royal receiving hall, where a sharply dressed, elegant man stood waiting to receive the Krane delegation.
“Greetings, esteemed envoys of the Krane Kingdom,” the man spoke, bowing with flawless diplomatic grace. “I am Coliban, High Minister of the Blood Throne.”
He straightened up, his piercing gaze scanning our small unit, stopping briefly on my massive frame before shifting back to Prince Emrice.
“Please, use today to rest from your arduous journey,” Coliban instructed smoothly, gesturing to a line of awaiting servants. “Tomorrow morning, we shall formally gather to discuss the democratic matters and diplomatic ultimatums of His Majesty's invoice. For your personal safety, I will assign an elite vanguard knight outside each of your private rooms. If you wish to go out for some sightseeing in our capital tonight, simply take them with you as a guide.”
We all headed toward our assigned chambers. Because my official rank was a mere rookie Vice-Captain acting as a glorified guard, my room was strategically positioned right in the middle of Princess Quina’s and Erina's suites.
Before I could even unstrap my traveling cloak, a soft, polite knock rattled the oak door.
I opened it, finding Prince Erwin standing in the dim torchlight of the corridor. “What is it, my Lord?” I asked, dropping into my flat, disguised voice.
“Aren't you going to invite me into your room, Will?” Erwin asked with a faint, approachable smile.
“Please, come in,” I replied, stepping aside. The moment he crossed the threshold, I shut the heavy door and locked it with a sharp click.
Erwin turned to face me, his rugged armor catching the light of the room's mana crystal. “First of all, let me apologize to you for Nickel's troublesome behavior during the knight exams. It was incredibly rude of him, and a stain on our family's name.”
“You should not bow and apologize as royalty to someone like me, Your Highness,” I deadpanned, keeping the mask of the brainwashed son perfectly intact.
“I am not apologizing as a royal prince right now, Will,” Erwin countered, his tone remarkably sincere. “I am apologizing simply as Nickel's older brother.”
His behavioral patterns were completely night and day compared to his corrupt sibling. Looking at him, a sudden, dark amusement flashed through my mind. If the guards outside are trying to eavesdrop on us, let’s give them a show.
“So, Nickel's big brother wants to play cards?” I asked, pulling a worn deck from my leather pack to lighten the heavy atmosphere.
Erwin grinned, his rugged posture relaxing. “I usually destroy my opponents with cards. But there are only two of us. It’s not exactly thrilling to play a two-player game.”
“That’s true,” I nodded, turning my gaze toward the heavy curtains near the wardrobe. “Shina, you can come out now.”
I sensed her hiding there the moment I exited to see erwin. She had clearly been terrified that Erwin was just as malicious as his brother, and had slipped in to keep an eye on things. The curtains parted, and Shina stepped out, her face entirely flushed with embarrassment.
“Since when was she standing there, Sir Will?” Erwin asked, his eyebrows raising in surprise.
“Please, just call me Will when we're alone, Erwin,” I replied smoothly. “And she has been standing there since the exact moment you entered the room.”
Erwin blinked. “I see. And you may call me Erwin—but only when the two of us are behind closed doors.”
“I understood, Erwin.”
“I-I am so sorry for eavesdropping!” Shina stammered, frantically bowing as low as her torso would allow.
“There is absolutely no need for bowing,” Erwin chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. “Do you want to join us for a round of cards, Shina?”
“Ohh...” Shina hesitated, her hands shaking slightly.
“You don't want to?” Erwin teased gently.
“No! I will! It would be an absolute honor!” she whispered quickly.
“Then it's set. Let us—” Before I could finish the sentence, the heavy lock on my door violently clicked, and the oak panels swung wide open.
“Let us play as well!” Princess Quina declared, marching into the room with absolute royal authority.
Standing right behind her was Erina, her arms crossed and her expression incredibly irritated. It didn't take a genius to realize they had both been hovering in the hallway, blatantly overhearing our entire conversation. This guest wing didn't possess a single ounce of soundproofing. Every word we spoke was likely being recorded by the Blood Kingdom vipers stationed outside our doors.
Perfect, I thought, a sinister smirk hiding behind my calm blonde facade. The more common and harmless we look, the less they'll expect the storm.
“We would be deeply honored to have you join us, Your Highness,” I spoke aloud, intentionally raising my voice for the guards outside to hear. “Though I must warn you... the aggressive barbarian standing beside you might get incredibly angry after losing and violently attack us.”
Erina’s eyes flared with pure, unadulterated venom. “The first person to die in this room will be you, Sir Will.”
We gathered around the small mahogany table, dealing out the cards under the dim glow of the crystal lamp. We played exactly five intense, high-stakes rounds.
And to my utter astonishment, Erina won every single one of them. She ruthlessly crushed the Prince, the Princess, and me five times in a row, slamming her final cards onto the wood with a victorious, lethal glare directed straight at my face.
It was deep into the night. Outside the guest wing, the heavy, armored breathing of the stationed guards remained steady. The strategy had worked perfectly; our noisy, adolescent card game had lulled them into a total sense of complacency. To them, we were just a bunch of harmless teenagers. If they heard a strange scuffle or a light thump from the windows, they would simply dismiss it as reckless kids being restless.
I slipped out of my high window, dropping silently through the freezing night air and landing flawlessly on the stone ledge below.
Before I could even adjust my boots, a sudden rustle of traveling leathers caught my attention. I snapped my head up, my eyes narrowing. Crouched on the window sill of the adjacent royal suite was Princess Quina. Her elven hair was tied back, and she was clumsily leaping down toward the ledge, carrying her magnificent elven sword, Tsukihime.
Moving with sheer, unweighted physical speed, I lunged forward, catching her mid-air by the waist and gently lowering her onto the stone floor before her boots could make a sound.
“I... I was just trying to go for a casual night walk, Sir Will,” Quina whispered frantically, her face flushing as she tried to project a calm royal posture. “What exactly are you doing out here?”
“I didn't ask what you were doing out here carrying a legendary elven blade, Princess,” I replied, my deep, disguised voice dropping into a flat, deadly seriousness. “We both know exactly what we are doing. I am here to investigate this city to determine whether this territory is safe for my beloved father or not.”
Quina was stunned, staring at me under the moonlight. “And... what if it is not safe?”
“Then I will take my father, and we will get away from here immediately,” I deadpanned, playing the fanatical son flawlessly.
She swallowed hard, realizing she couldn't break my resolve. “Where... where were you planning to go to investigate first?”
“I wasn't entirely sure,” I lied smoothly, pulling out a compact leather map of the capital. I pressed my calloused thumb against a heavily shaded sector on the southern edge. “But according to the blueprints, we should head directly to the southern sector. This is the secluded zone where the Blood Kingdom brings their war-affected casualties and refugees.”
“Yeah,” Quina murmured, her elven eyes hardening with a trace of her hidden 'Knight of Justice' bravado. “I was thinking the exact same thing.”
“And one more thing, Princess,” I added, gently pushing her glowing sword back toward her. “Hide Tsukihime in these thick bushes right now. If the capital patrols spot us carrying high-grade elven weaponry through the streets, it will create an international disaster. If you want something to protect yourself, use these.”
I reached into my leather bundle and handed her a cluster of matte-black, light-absorbing daggers and concealment knives Grim had forged. She accepted them with a hesitant nod, burying her royal sword deep within the foliage.
Once the weapons were secure, we became two shadows, rushing through the pitch-black alleys toward the southern district.
The moment we crossed the threshold into the southern slums, the illusion of the prosperous utopian capital violently shattered.
I couldn't believe my eyes. What lay before me in the dark, suffocating fog was a scene of absolute, sickening horror—something I couldn't have imagined even in my darkest thoughts.
There were dead bodies scattered across the cobblestones like garbage. A thick, sticky pool of fresh blood coated the ground, reflecting the moonlight. The Blood Kingdom vipers weren't helping the tragic victims of the war; they were, coldbloodedly slaughtering them.
Suddenly, a sharp, agonizing human scream tore through the thick air, echoing from the rusty iron walls of a nearby warehouse.
“Princess, we have to check it out,” I whispered, dropping low into a crouch.
I looked over my shoulder. Princess Quina was completely, utterly paralyzed. Her skin was deathly pale, her elven eyes wide with a blank, suffocating dread as she stared at the mountain of corpses.
“Princess!” I growled, shaking her shoulder violently.
“Y-Yes...” she choked out, her voice shivering as she forced her trembling knees to lock. “Let's go.”
We slipped through a loose iron panel, melting into the pitch-black shadows of the rafters overlooking the warehouse floor. Below us, a naked man was bound tightly to a heavy steel chair. His entire body was a horrific map of raw flesh, jagged open wounds, and dripping blood.
A man wearing the pristine, blood-stained coat of a high alchemist stepped forward. In his calloused hand, he held a dark, pulsing, live cube of raw, undulating flesh that twitchingly throbbed with black veins.
Without a shred of hesitation, the alchemist forcefully crammed the pulsing meat deep down the screaming man's throat.
What followed was pure, visceral trauma.
A strange, chaotic surge of corrupt, demonic magic violently burst outward from the prisoner's core. His eyes instantaneously ruptured, pouring black, boiling fluid down his cheeks. His bones began to snap and warp visibly beneath his skin as his flesh melted into a hissing, boiling slurry. Before his lungs could even frame a final scream, his entire bodily structure collapsed inward, turning into a pile of smoking, grey ash right on the iron chair.
“Another failure,” the professor sighed, casually brushing the ash off his sleeves with cold indifference.
“Professor! We got another success in Sector Four!” a young assistant shouted, running into the room with a solitary, blood-smeared parchment. “Here is the biological integration report!”
The superior officer snatched the paper, let out a satisfied grunt, and both men immediately left the chamber to inspect the next ward, locking the heavy steel doors behind them.
Sensing our window, I dropped silently from the rafters. Quina tumbled down after me, immediately collapsing onto her knees and violently, silently vomiting into the dark corner. I ignored her distress, walking straight over to the iron desk and snatching the single piece of paper.
My eyes scanned the data, the puzzle locking into place with a horrifying realization.
They were constructing living human weapons.
They were force-feeding the helpless, war-torn population the, parasitic flesh of the Blood Tyrant himself. Millions were being systematically filtered and reduced to ash, just to find the rare, genetically unique individuals whose bodies could adapt to the Tyrant’s power without melting. According to the statistics on the sheet, the project had already successfully bred sixteen absolute monsters.Sixteen living weapons capable of rivaling the raw destructive power of a High Captain like Lord Drake.
I wanted to investigate further to find the location of those sixteen test subjects, but a soft, pathetic sound caught my ear.
I turned around. Princess Quina was flat on the blood-stained floor, her fingers clawing frantically at her own throat as she hyperventilated in a state of total, broken panic. Her mind had completely snapped under the weight of the horror.
Realizing a compromised princess would get us both captured before the next patrol arrived, I ruthlessly scooped her trembling, unresponsive body into my arms, bolted through the window, and dissolved back into the dark night.
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