I Will Conquer and rule the World as trash prince

**Huff.**

**Huff.**

**Huff.**

A young man ran, stumbling down the rocky slope. His black hair was a mess around a pair of black horns jutting from his head. His purple robe was torn open, revealing red, welted scratch marks across his skin. One of his arms was wrapped in a dirty cloth bandage that was beginning to loosen. The young man kept forcing his legs to step toward the valley where a village sat nestled beneath the shadow of giant rocky mountains.

Tears wet his cheeks, dirty with dust and dried blood. "I have to hurry, I have to hurry," he repeated between his broken breaths.

His breathing was frantic. It felt hot in his chest. In his mind, the images of chaos were still vividly recorded. *I was lucky enough to escape those crazy monsters. Who are they? Why did they attack? What did we do wrong to them,* his mind wandered in a daze.

The young man stopped his steps for a moment, standing on a large boulder. He looked up at the sky. The sun was beginning to set behind the majestic mountain peaks. The clouds shifted to golden and purple hues on the western horizon. The warm afternoon light bathed the expanse of terraced rice fields on the valley slopes. Nature there looked far more fertile and peaceful than usual.

The young man's lips trembled violently. His tears flowed heavier, falling onto the rock where he stood. "Why," he muttered softly. "Why, why!"

Without waiting for his breathing to steady, the young man ran again. He leaped down the narrow path toward the heart of the village.

He kept running until he arrived at a wide, bustling market street. The market atmosphere was filled with billowing smoke from food stalls and hundreds of Husa Clan dragon citizens going about their activities. Their faces looked relaxed under the warm light of paper lanterns that were just being lit, hanging along the roofs of the wooden buildings. Several small children with tiny horns ran around through the crowd.

The young man stood frozen in the middle of the crowded market. His dazed eyes swept the surroundings, staring at the crowd of citizens still busy trading without a care. A cold sensation crept all over his body. "What is this," he said quietly. "Why hasn't anyone evacuated."

The young man collapsed to the ground in the middle of the cobblestone street. His legs felt weak, no longer able to support his body weight. "This is bad, this is bad," he muttered in frustration. He banged his head against the hard rocky ground. Over and over again.

"Agh!"

"Agh!"

An old merchant at a nearby stall saw the blood-soaked young man fall. He rushed over to him.

"Boy! Calm down, what are you doing!" the old man said anxiously, holding the youth's shoulders and trying to pull his body up.

The young man looked up, staring into the old man's face with a blank look. He took a deep breath, gathering the last of his strength, then stood up with great difficulty in the middle of the market street. He screamed, his voice hoarse and loud, shattering the noise of the market.

"All of you evacuate immediately! Get out of here quickly!"

"Two monsters from a mysterious clan have killed—" The young man stopped, out of breath. His chest heaved rapidly. He steadied his breathing for a moment, then shouted again.

"All the troops at the border are dead! Get out of here!"

Several merchants at the wooden stalls halted their activities. The citizens who were walking instantly froze, staring at the young man with confused looks.

"What do you mean?" a middle-aged woman asked.

"Leave? You're telling us to leave?" asked a muscular merchant.

"What do you mean all the troops are dead? Are you joking!" asked another merchant.

"You're drunk!" shouted another merchant, pointing at the young man.

"Where is the clan chief!"

The young man looked around. He fought back his tears once more. "Everyone... everyone is dead," he said hoarsely. "All the frontline troops have been killed by mysterious monsters."

The young man bit his lower lip hard. "Our dragons have perished, and everyone is dead, everyone is dead!"

"The Chief, Lady Uni, has been missing since this morning!"

The young man raised his hands, showing the dirty bandages on his arm and the welts of wounds on his body visible through the tears in his purple robe. "Look at these wounds!"

"Please believe me!"

"I'm begging you!"

"Please, I beg you!"

The man fell to his knees on the hard market ground, bowing prostrate before the crowd of citizens. "Please evacuate immediately and go as far away from here as possible... please... please... please."

The crowd of citizens fell silent for a moment, looking at one another. However, the muscular merchant from earlier stepped forward, pulling the young man's body up roughly and grabbing the collar of his purple robe.

"You're crazy, boy! How could we possibly leave our birthplace!"

"Our ancestors! They fought for this land! We struggled so hard to get a ceasefire with the kingdom!"

The merchant tightened his grip, his face flushing red with anger. "And now, just because of two monsters, you're telling us to leave!"

"Listen here, boy."

"We will die here if we must!"

Several citizens in the crowd, including a horned old man, nodded in agreement.

"But—"

**Slap!**

The merchant slapped the young man's face hard, making his head jerk to the side.

"Do not underestimate us!"

"You will die, you fools!" the young man snapped, glaring sharply at the meat merchant. "If you die, if we die, then we will be wiped out, our clan will be reduced to ashes!"

"At least make sure we don't disappear right here! I don't want our clan to burn to the ground! Do you?!"

The young man broke free from the merchant's grasp. He looked around the lantern-filled market street. "Fine, you want to die, but you'll be wiped out!"

"Our name, our culture will be burned to ashes! We will be erased from history! It is better that we fight!"

"You think it's better to fight?! Fight with what?! We have to run first!"

The citizens in the market went silent for a moment. The atmosphere turned completely still. The old merchant who had first helped him approached and patted the young man's shoulder gently.

"Then leave, child."

"We will stay and fight here."

The old merchant looked straight into the young man's eyes. He smiled faintly, his gaze full of calmness yet resolute. "Go, continue the bloodline of our clan."

The old man looked at the other citizens in the market. The warm light of the lanterns reflected on his face. "We are already old, let us die with honor."

The old man looked back at the youth. "Those of you who are still young, leave."

"Go and avenge us."

"B-but—"

"Prepare your weapons!" shouted the muscular merchant from before, his voice booming across the market.

"For those of you who are still young, leave!"

"Gather with this man and go as far away as possible!"

The horned old man approached the youth, gripped both his shoulders tightly, and gave a slow nod.

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