The First Prince
A greedy voice.
One that made no effort to hide its true nature.
It was a declaration of war, mocking the resolve Roan had just made.
Greedy eyes buried in folds of fat swept over their equipment.
Roan's shield, Jane's staff, and even Belgard's necklace.
The man casting such arrogantly blatant glances was none other than the First Prince of the kingdom—Cayenne Lionheart.
"What do you think you are doing?"
Jerkoyl, seated on the throne, called out in a low voice. Yet, neither his posture nor his tone carried any real authority.
"They are honored guests. Do not be discourteous."
"Of course, Father. They are precious guests, after all. Truly precious."
He gave a sly reply, deliberately emphasizing the word. Yet, his eyes continued to linger greedily on the party's belongings.
Nearby, Prince Gertol—whom Roan and Jane had previously "educated"—was sweating profusely, anxiously watching the situation unfold.
"For now... we shall skip the grand formalities of an audience. You must be exhausted from your journey, so the presentation of the plaques of appreciation will take place tomorrow during an official ceremony. Do you have any objections?"
"That is fine. I assume we will discuss the details then as well?"
"Indeed."
A hint of a sinister plot leaked through his lax, listless tone.
It's obvious what they're planning. They want to gather witnesses and cut off our escape.
From Roan's perspective, having more ears around was actually preferable. It meant they could deliver their declaration of war to a much larger audience.
With that anticlimactic audience concluded, Jerkoyl rose from his throne and departed.
"My apologies. His Majesty has recently been consumed by the pleasures of Hidin..."
"Hidin? I didn't think that place was under the kingdom's jurisdiction."
"Indeed, it is not. He is even drawing up plans to bring Hidin under our direct control... but since it lies on the opposing side, it is quite a delicate matter."
A king with no will to rule but a passion for gambling, and a prince consumed by greed. It was a family that practically screamed for Promius's intervention.
Roan's party watched idly as the king, his attendants, and the princes withdrew, before turning to leave. But the moment they stepped out of the audience chamber and into the hallway—
"Hold on a moment."
Cayenne blocked their path, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment. Two royal knights flanked him.
Golden embroidery adorned their gleaming silver armor. Their scabbards and shields were exquisitely crafted. They seemed to hold a much higher rank than the royal knights Roan had thrashed before.
"I have heard the rumors. A band of mercenaries wandering the continent."
Even Jerkoyl had referred to them as honored guests or heroes, yet this man chose to call them mercenaries. It was a blatant, deliberate attempt to demean them.
Jane's brow twitched. However, seeing that Roan remained unfazed, she decided to suppress her rising anger for the moment.
Cayenne eyed their equipment with intrigue before stepping directly toward Belgard.
"Everything is quite fascinating... but this necklace is particularly intriguing. It possesses a strange energy I have never seen even in the royal treasury. The craftsmanship is superb..."
"Ah."
Just before Cayenne's hand could touch the necklace, Belgard instinctively took a step back. The sheer disgust he felt at the prospect of being touched by such a repulsive hand made him recoil.
Cayenne's hand grasped empty air, and his brow furrowed in anger.
"What do you think you are doing? A mere mercenary dares to evade my touch?"
"My apologies, Your Highness. It is a precious keepsake," Belgard replied calmly.
However, Cayenne focused entirely on the words "My apologies" rather than the explanation itself. To him, an apology was an admission of weakness. Having firmly established the hierarchy in his mind, he sneered.
"An exiled priest, was it? Then you must be ignorant of the kingdom's laws. Any item of unclear origin must be surrendered to the state. Hand it over. I will return it once I have appraised it."
Having said that, Cayenne turned his gaze toward the other two.
"While we are at it, I shall appraise the belongings of the other two as well, so obediently—"
"Oh, for crying out loud."
Jane's voice cut him off, her patience completely exhausted.
"Aren't you just a highwayman in broad daylight? We let things slide a bit, and now you're acting all high and mighty. Keep this up, and that fat nose of yours might just get broken."
Fat.
Jane had poked right at Cayenne's deepest insecurity, sending his temper instantly through the roof.
"Insolent wench! Who do you think you are speaking to?!"
At his command, the knights gripped the hilts of their swords. The tension in the air was thick enough to ignite at a single spark.
Amidst this volatile standoff, Roan, who had remained silent, stepped forward. As he always did, he shielded Belgard and Jane, looking down at Cayenne.
Looking down.
Overwhelmed by a sudden, inexplicable pressure, Cayenne swallowed hard.
"Your Highness," Roan spoke.
"Wouldn't it be wiser to cause a scene later?"
Just one sentence. It was neither long nor short, leaving absolutely no room for debate. As Cayenne struggled to process the words under the crushing weight of Roan's presence, Roan lightly patted his shoulder.
"We are still your guests, after all. Provoking us won't bring either of us any benefit."
It sounded like a gentle warning to a child, but Cayenne felt the underlying threat.
A warning... to me?
It was utterly absurd. How dare a mere commoner lecture him, a royal heir? Rage surged from his chest, but it withered before it could even reach his lips.
Father did say they would eventually be bound to the kingdom and put to work.
He couldn't wait for that day to arrive. He would make sure they could never defy him again, strip them of everything they owned, and lay them beneath his feet like a rug.
Despite his vile thoughts, his anger didn't entirely dissipate.
It's probably best not to touch these three right now. There are three of them, and that man's aura is highly suspicious.
Cayenne had reached his own conclusion, but he still couldn't control his simmering rage. Just as he opened his mouth to huffily bark an order, someone came rushing over from down the hall.
"F-First Prince!"
It was Gertol, the prince who had been trembling during the audience. Knowing Cayenne's volatile temper and the terrifying strength of Roan's party all too well, he had rushed over to prevent a disaster. His instincts were correct.
"Knights! Follow me! We will find this bastard's other companions and take it out on them instead!"
Unfortunately, he was too late.
"Companions? Take it out on them?"
Cayenne had just stepped on a landmine.
Unlike Jane and Belgard, who stiffened in shock, the chubby prince seemed completely oblivious to the sudden shift in Roan's demeanor.
"Heh, does mentioning your companions change things? Yes. That heavily tattooed giant and the dragon half-breed. First, I'll turn that giant into a royal scarecrow. Since he's so big, cutting off a few limbs shouldn't hurt, right?"
"...What?"
"And as for the dragon half-breed... I'll lock her in a cage and keep her as a pet to show off. She is a rare specimen, after all."
Ah. He's dead.
Observing Roan's expression, Jane quickly assessed the situation. If Cayenne had merely threatened to "punish" them, there might have been a way out. Roan's absolute rule was to trust his comrades. If Cayenne had stopped there, it would have just ended with Charbun or Zaraxia handling it themselves.
But now...
A scarecrow... a pet... he completely crossed the line.
Of all things, he just had to choose the exact words that would infuriate Mr. Roan...
Now, there was no turning back.
An oppressive aura, so heavy that the weak couldn't even perceive its existence, filled the corridor. As even the royal knights fell into a tense silence, Roan took a few slow steps forward and tapped Cayenne's shoulder.
"What insolence is this? Knights, why aren't you stopping—"
—SLAP!!
His words stopped. His breath caught.
A sensation as if his neck bones were grinding together. A sharp, electrifying pain that started from his cheek and surged through his entire body.
A slap. An act meant to humiliate and disgrace. Yet, the pain arrived far before the shame.
W-what... what just... my head...
His head spun so violently he could barely keep his senses. Staggering, he collapsed to the floor and managed to look up. Through his blurred vision, Roan's figure came into focus.
"Y-you insolent... what do you think you are doing?! Do you think you will get away with touching a prince?! Guards! Knights! Arrest him immediately!!"
Barely managing to pick himself up, he shrieked his orders to the knights. After a brief hesitation, they drew their swords and pointed them at the party.
Watching them, Roan took a long, deep breath.
"Jane, Belgard. I'm sorry. I don't think I can hold back. I'm absolutely furious."
"...Is that even a question?"
A bitter remark. Since Belgard took nagging very seriously, Roan braced himself for a solid forty-eight hours of lecturing. But the expected scolding never came.
"You always step forward first anyway. To be honest, I was hoping you would act first, Mr. Roan."
"Exactly. I was already pissed off the moment he brought up the others."
Instead, they prepared for battle as if they had been waiting for this very moment. And this time, Roan didn't stop them.
"Glad to hear it. Shall we take one each?"
They had long since figured out the kingdom's true intentions. Rather than enduring insults to their companions for the sake of an event they were going to reject anyway, it was a hundred times better to let loose and teach this man a lesson right here and now.
"Sounds great!"
"This will be perfect practice."
As if they had finally gotten what they wanted, Jane and Belgard unleashed their true power.
Ominous mana surged from Jane's crude staff, alongside Belgard's blended energy, which was far more bizarre than Jane's.
Sensing that something had gone horribly wrong, Cayenne scrambled backward on the floor.
"Y-you crazy... G-Gertol! Quick! You fight too!"
"W-what? Me...?"
Cayenne fully intended to abandon the knights and the other prince to make his escape. However, one person who wasn't occupied with the knights stood right in his path.
—GRAB!
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Hieeeek!"
Cayenne was helplessly grabbed by the scruff of his neck by the remaining man.
No words were spoken, but the message in his eyes was crystal clear: Are you ready for your etiquette lesson?
"S-spare..."
At his whimpering plea, Roan offered a reassuring smile.
"Don't worry. I'm actually quite good at controlling my strength."
...But it didn't seem like he had any intention of going easy on him.