After her little quickie with Chad, Princess Alice took the opportunity to spill everything—every single detail about Prince Alec's powers, capabilities, and even his glaring weaknesses.
She laid it all bare in front of Chad, exposing Alec so thoroughly it made the thought of defeating him in a future battle not just possible, but inevitable.
Prince Alec had always been a pompous prick. He constantly bragged about his supposed greatness and the vast extent of his abilities.
Every time he opened his mouth, it was always about him—his powers, his talents, how everyone else was beneath him.
And Alice? She was just the unfortunate audience to his ego-stroking monologues. He never once gave a shit about her thoughts. It was all about Alec. Always.
His self-obsession wasn't just arrogant—it was toxic. The kind of toxic that left psychological bruises. Not only did he pull dangerous, humiliating pranks on her just for his own amusement, but the way he spoke to her? It was like her emotions didn't even exist.
If he wasn't so disgustingly powerful, would she have ever tolerated a single goddamn word out of his mouth?
No, never.
But Alice wasn't stupid. She knew what kind of fate awaited her if she so much as showed the slightest sign of displeasure or boredom in front of him.
Alec wasn't someone who would just shrug things off.
No, he was the type to escalate fast—sometimes to violence, sometimes to worse. The only reason he didn't immediately resort to rape or brutal punishments was because she mastered the art of listening to his egotistical monologues with fake grace and perfectly timed smiles.
It wasn't because he cared. It was because she made herself tolerable, even entertaining, just enough to keep his rage in check.
But she knew the rules. Show even a flicker of disinterest, and he'd make her regret it.
She used to think this torment would never end. That this twisted routine of pretending, enduring, and swallowing her pride would go on forever.
But now, with Chad's sudden appearance, there was a flicker of real hope—not just for freedom, but for revenge. Sweet, bloody revenge.
She hated Alec. Hated his smug face. Hated how he tormented her mind like it was a game. Hated how he thought being a powerful prick gave him a free pass to treat her like garbage.
Chad, for his part, was stunned by how much Princess Alice knew about Alec's strengths and vulnerabilities. He wasn't just impressed—he was thrilled.
He grinned like a devil, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Victory was practically in his hands now.
Alec had no idea what was coming for him.
To sum it up, Prince Alec might seem like an intimidating, overpowered jackass to someone new to this world, but once you had the blueprint to his weaknesses, he wasn't that scary.
Chad's speed and raw strength were on par with Sun Wukong herself—fast, relentless, and downright brutal.
And compared to that, Alec's flashy bullshit didn't mean much.
Alec relied way too heavily on speed tricks and summoning powers.
Physically, he was actually weaker than your average Campione. That was his fatal flaw. As long as Chad didn't give him a second to breathe or pull his summoning crap—like dragging out that ridiculous labyrinth or unleashing the Three Furies goddesses—then he had this fight in the bag.
Alice made it clear: do not let Alec summon anything. Don't let him bring out his black thunder either. The advice was simple—crush him, and do it fast.
She'd seen it in her visions of the future—Chad's raw power outclassed Alec's.
He didn't need to tiptoe around or fight defensively. If he held back, he'd lose. Plain and simple. That was the warning Alice gave him.
The more cautious Chad got, the more time Alec would have to pull out his tricks, calling on his goddesses and trapping him in that freakshow labyrinth.
To stop that, Chad had to go all in. No hesitation. No retreat. Beat Alec into the fucking ground and don't stop swinging until there's nothing left. Don't even give the bastard a chance to breathe.
From the very beginning all the way to the bitter end, Prince Alec didn't fall for Chad's provocation. He never did.
Alec was a calculating bastard, always cautious. He wanted to dissect Chad slowly—mentally strip him bare and dig into every filthy corner of his life before even thinking about throwing a punch.
But Chad? He wasn't about to hand Alec the courtesy of time or patience.
No, Chad was planning to crush him long before Alec could finish his little investigation game.
He was going to stomp out every advantage Alec could scrape together and grind his pride into the dirt before Alec could even begin to strike back.
Thanks to their ruthless massacre at the Royal Arsenal, there weren't any witches left alive that Alec could use to investigate Chad's secrets.
No seers, no mystics, nothing.
The only one who could've made a difference was Alice, the one whose anti-clairvoyance ability could shield Alec's probing eyes from backlash while still gathering intel.
But now? She was on Chad's side.
It meant Alec had no choice but to do things the hard way. No precision. No finesse. Just brute, messy, crude intel gathering, like a goddamn amateur.
"How long do you think it'll take for the British Empire to slip out of Alec's grip?" Chad muttered, his tone casual but sharp.
He hadn't forgotten the goal—rip everything out of Alec's hands and leave him with nothing but the title of a beggar.
No more Black Prince. Just some washed-up name with no power behind it.
His whole organization was already gone, burned to ash.
The woman that was supposed to be his? Already taken—Chad made sure of that. All that remained was Alec's shiny little title, Emperor of Britannia. And even that wasn't going to last.
"Any time you say the word, my king," Princess Alice said. "One order, and Alec's getting tossed off that throne."
Chad gave her a lazy smirk. "Sweet."
Then, without hesitation, he added, "Shall we begin now?"