A Prince's Nightmare
Chaser fell flat on his ass and couldn't move.
'This is a nightmare!'
How had things come to this? He'd just wanted to impress his father and secure his claim to the throne by racking up some achievements. It hadn't seemed that hard. His target was the princess infamous for her stupidity, and in fact, the smoke bomb made from poison troll excrement had inflicted serious damage.
But there was one thing he hadn't anticipated.
"Kyaaack—!"
She was far more of a monster than he'd imagined. The enraged beast stood with her fur bristling, swinging her claws right in front of his face. By a hair's breadth, she'd sliced off some of his hair—and now that beast dangled in midair.
"Hoon! What's this? Why'd you grab me!?"
Loki had snatched Karen by the scruff of her neck. It almost looked like a black cat caught by her butler.
"Didn't you say earlier you were going to capture him?"
"Oh! I forgot. Thanks, Hoon!"
Karen beamed as if nothing had happened. But she winced at the pain from her abdomen.
"Ow~"
Her stomach had been pierced clean through, blood pouring out. Some of it splattered onto Chaser's face below. Despite the mortal wound, Karen acted like it was nothing, filling Chaser with terror. A half-Nod, half-beastkin was truly a monster in her own right.
Loki shoved a potion into the mouth of the girl, who was shedding tears of complaint.
"Drink."
Soon, smoke rose from her punctured belly, and the wound naturally began to close. Chaser's eyes bulged.
What the hell was that recovery speed?!
Were beastkin just that freakish? Or was it that potion!?
"Whoa! The wound's all better!"
"It's a potion."
"It's yummy—got more?"
"...Yummy? It's basically troll blood flavored."
Even Loki's potions were made from troll blood as a base ingredient, after all.
"And anyway, this isn't the time for us to chat."
With her excitement subsided, Karen sniffed the air, her ears twitching. Her bright expression slowly faded, turning on the verge of tears.
"I smell burning. And screams...."
Her teary face twisted into fury.
"They're killing our people!"
"Looks like the invasion's begun. Since we've come as reinforcements, I'll intervene this time."
"Th-thank you!"
Leaving those words, Karen scrambled up the wall to the rooftop and vanished. With the unchained beast gone, Chaser finally breathed a sigh of relief. If she'd kept rampaging, he'd have ended up like his subordinates scattered in the alley—minced meat.
"Don't get too comfortable."
Chaser whipped his head around.
"You're in my hands now."
Loki raised his sword.
"First things first—I need to make sure you can't run."
...What?
As that thought crossed his mind, Loki swung his sword toward Chaser's legs.
"We've secured Prince Torsen!"
Kshan the elder panted heavily. A veteran from the conquest of Astoria Island long ago, he'd helped found the kingdom alongside the Nodrian King.
'Damn, getting old makes the body so heavy.'
He'd already loaded the prince onto a ship and headed downriver. All that was left was cleanup before fleeing the kingdom.
'Nodrian King, don't blame me. This is on you.'
Defying the Forman Kingdom's army? That would get them all killed.
The Nod reinforcements he'd requested had entered Astoria Island's waters in response. Naturally, Forman wouldn't sit idle.
'After all I've endured to survive!'
For decades, he'd yearned for continental nobility and finally built a family name through patience. He couldn't lose it now—not when he was about to pass it to his children. Better to side with Forman and save his house.
"Load up everything we can carry!"
At Kshan's command, his followers and the Forman soldiers piled goods onto the ships. True to their Nod blood, they prioritized looting.
"That's it! Now I'm a real noble with territory!"
Greed gleamed in Elder Kshan's eyes.
"Let's go!"
Kshan pushed at the loot-mountain ship. Mocking laughter echoed around him.
"Old guy's got some greed."
"He's Nod. Those looters."
"Haha, all that pride talk was bullshit. Betraying his own to save his skin."
'Laugh it up! Once I'm nobility, I'll have your heads!'
Kshan memorized each mocker.
'But... ngh—! Why won't the ship budge!?'
Too much cargo? "Huh? Wh-what?"
"What the— what is that?!"
Too focused on pushing, Kshan hadn't noticed the growing commotion.
"Run—!"
Those boarding nearby ships leaped off and fled the harbor.
"Huh? What? What's—?"
Only then did Elder Kshan react. A massive shadow loomed over his head. He looked up—and saw the steel underbelly of a gigantic warship.
"Ah...."
The rising ship slammed down. Kwajik—! The Forman galleys shattered.
"Uwaaaak—!"
Kshan whirled and ran for his life. The wooden pier splintered, shards flying. Like a bulldozer, it crushed everything in its path.
Kshan gasped for air. "Kuhk—!"
'No... no more...!'
He stumbled, turning to look. At the sight of the oncoming warship, he screamed, falling on his ass and scrambling back. But the ship's hull inevitably crushed his legs.
"Kaaaak—!"
Bones crunching, the warship halted.
"What is this?! What the hell—?!"
Kshan writhed in agony, drenched in cold sweat, and yelled. A ladder dropped from the warship, and figures descended.
"Hya!"
Nod warriors. Covered head to toe in white scale armor.
Seeing them, Kshan fell silent. Nods...? But no Nod he knew had gear like that. They barely qualified as Nods. It was imperial-grade armor. Looters couldn't look like knights.
"Who do we kill?"
"What do we do? They're not attacking—just staring. Aren't those Nodrians?"
"Just kill 'em all?"
"Don't be stupid—you'll get executed by the king."
No. That crude speech. Definitely Nods!
Nodrian reinforcements like these? Kshan's face paled as he pointed and screamed at them.
"K-kill them! Kill those guys—!"
Finally snapping to, the Forman soldiers gripped their weapons—but hesitated, unnerved. The massive unknown warship, the stylish white scale armor marking them as 'enemies'—it was intimidating. They'd heard nothing about foes like this.
"What are you lot doing?"
A man in a crow helm stepped forward, dragging a limbless man by the hair.
The Forman troops froze again. More unknowns appeared.
'That's... Prince Chaser!?'
Their ruler, Forman's prince, dragged in pathetic shape.
"Oh! My king!"
The Nod warriors bowed to him.
"If you've answered the call for reinforcements, do your duty."
"Understood! So who do we kill?"
"......"
Loki blinked and tilted his head. The harbor was frozen, everyone staring. Nodrian civilians mingled with Forman troops—it was hard to tell friend from foe.
"Kill anyone who attacks us."
"Yes, but they're not attacking."
"I see. Then...."
Loki's gaze fell on Kshan, whose legs were crushed under the ship. He swung his sword through empty air. The wind slash diced Kshan to pieces, blood spraying everywhere like he'd been machine-gunned—no trace left.
"Killing the guy who ordered us dead should get a reaction."
"K-Kshan the elder's dead!"
"It's the Nods! Kill them!"
"Save Prince Chaser!"
Forman soldiers nocked arrows en masse.
"Oh! Wise as ever."
The Nod warriors drew weapons—massive axes, spears, swords.
"Fire!"
Arrows rained. The Nods didn't dodge or block. Kang—! Their armor deflected them. Dwarven-forged from Valhalla Palace metals—ordinary weapons couldn't scratch it.
"Charge, charge, let's go—!"
The Nods rushed forward, leaping one by one to smash down with axes. Kwajik—! An archer split in half.
"Hiiik—!"
P-people could be cleaved in one strike?
"G-group up! Push them back!"
Three Formans charged together; the Nod shoved them back with his axe.
"Where do you—!"
Each swing sent one flying, blood spraying onto their helms. The green eyes gleaming within crushed their morale—the Formans began to flee.
"Reload—!"
Under Reran's command on the warship, Nods bustled. Ballistae targeted the runners.
"Fire—!"
Kwaruruk—! Boom—! Sparks flew from friction; the recoil shoved the ballistae back as bolts launched like cannonballs, piercing and exploding Forman bodies.
"Uwaaaak—!"
Pure terror for the Formans. A massive ship emerging from darkness, ballistae firing, their prince legless in enemy hands, mysterious soldiers butchering them.
'This... is a nightmare!'
One Nod yanked his bloody axe free and asked Loki, "They're fleeing—what now?"
"Don't chase. We might kill Nodrians by mistake. And...."
Something black flew toward the runners. Kwajik—! A claw smashed down, turning a man to pulp. A black cat tail swished.
Karen was hunting the fleeing Formans.
"She'll handle the runners."
"Got it! But what's that?"
The Nod pointed at Chaser in Loki's grip. Loki recalled the soldiers' shout.
—Save Prince Chaser!
"...They called him 'prince.'"
"Gods, you caught their prince? Why was a guy like that in enemy lines?"
"Guess he's serious about invading—personally leading the charge."
Then Karen yelled desperately at Loki.
"Hoon! I-I need help!"
"Help?"
Loki glanced at her. For her personality, asking for help like this was rare.
"My bro! My big brother's been kidnapped!"
Kidnapped? Karen's brother would be Prince Torsen.
"Soldiers said they saw him dragged away! What do we do? How do we save him?"
Seeing her plead pitifully, Loki thought of Chaser. If their prince was a hostage, they could demand the enemy prince in exchange.
With that, he hoisted Chaser up.
"Ah...."
But there was a problem. Blood poured from the severed legs, eyes rolled back, drool spilling. The hostage was in rough shape.