The sky split apart with light.
A deafening roar tore through the forest like the wrath of a storm.
From the top of the hill, a creature descended, cloaked in crackling lightning.
Thunder.
The magical steed of lightning emerged from the storm clouds, its silver mane standing on end as arcs of electricity danced across its body. Its hooves struck the air as though the tempest itself held it aloft.
On its back rode a young man with an icy gaze, a spear of radiant light gripped firmly in his hand.
Beside him, a shadow slipped silently through the trees.
Umbra.
The black wolf emerged like an extension of the darkness itself, crimson eyes gleaming through the mist. Before one of the enemy mages could even react, Umbra's fangs had already closed around his throat.
A chill ran down the assassins' leader's spine.
"...No... It can't be..."
One of his men lost his composure.
"The Douglases!"
The leader's breathing grew heavy.
This mission was supposed to be flawless.
Assassinate the Crown Prince without leaving a trace.
Without attracting attention.
Without allowing anyone to uncover the truth.
But something had gone wrong from the very beginning.
First, a magical beast had ambushed his men before they could even launch the attack, reducing their numbers unexpectedly.
And now...
Now the Douglases had arrived.
This wasn't reinforcement.
It was a death sentence.
"Damn it..."
He clenched his teeth.
The Douglases didn't tip the scales.
They shattered them.
Every second they remained here increased the chances of the mission ending in complete failure.
More dead.
More witnesses.
More questions.
But retreat wasn't an option either.
He had been given an order.
And it had to be carried out.
Thunder descended.
The lightning-charged impact shook the earth.
Three assassins reacted on instinct, rushing toward the rider.
Too late.
A flash.
A deafening crack.
All three collapsed to the ground, their bodies paralyzed by the electrical discharge.
Albert and Charles moved at the exact same instant.
Without a word.
Without hesitation.
Their swords sliced through the space between themselves and their enemies.
By the time the ringing of steel faded...
The three assassins were already on the ground.
Lusian slowly raised his sword.
Its blade darkened little by little, as though the shadows of the forest answered his will.
"Albert. Charles."
Both men stopped immediately.
"I need them alive."
A brief pause.
"Capture them."
What followed no longer resembled a battle.
It became a hunt.
Richard had barely caught his breath when he saw the elderly knight approaching.
For years, he had heard stories about House Douglas.
To many nobles, they were nothing more than assassins dressed as knights—a family that operated in the shadows, whose loyalty was never entirely clear.
But watching that precision...
That flawless coordination...
For the first time, he understood why the Crown trusted them.
Then he noticed something.
The enemy commander had activated a magical artifact.
Albert had noticed it as well.
"Rest, lad."
The old knight's voice was calm.
"You've done enough."
Richard breathed heavily.
"Thank you, sir... but that man is still dangerous."
Albert regarded the assassin without the slightest hint of concern.
"I know."
His gaze sharpened.
"If you can still move, help me capture him."
He glanced toward Lusian.
"My lord has questions for him."
Richard nodded and moved to cut off the assassin's escape.
The man immediately realized they intended to take him alive.
Wind mana erupted around his body.
Razor-sharp gusts tore through the air toward Albert.
The old knight didn't even take a step back.
His flame-wreathed sword traced a perfect arc.
The wind blades dissolved the instant they touched the fire.
The assassin tried to widen the distance.
Too late.
Albert was already standing before him.
A flash.
The assassin's right arm fell to the ground.
The wound was instantly cauterized.
Not a single drop of blood reached the grass.
Richard's eyes widened.
They were in the same rank.
And yet Albert had overwhelmed him with an ease that bordered on the absurd.
The old knight looked at the assassin with complete indifference.
"My lord needs you alive..."
His voice remained perfectly calm.
"But he never said you had to arrive in one piece."
Before the man could react, another thrust severed his left hand.
A muffled scream escaped his lips.
Albert grabbed him by the throat as though he weighed nothing at all and began dragging him toward Lusian.
A short distance away, Charles was still locked in combat with the second Magister.
The assassin was breathing heavily, but every strike remained lethal.
Charles parried a thrust.
Spun.
Found an opening.
His sword fell.
The attacker's head rolled across the ground.
Charles remained still for a few moments before speaking.
"...There was no way to take him alive."
Silence returned to the forest.
Only drifting smoke, the scent of ozone, and the groans of the wounded remained.
Richard drew a deep breath before approaching Lusian.
"Lord Douglas... you saved us."
There was gratitude in his voice.
And caution as well.
Lusian dismounted Thunder without a word.
He stopped in front of the captured assassin.
"Umbra. Watch him."
The black wolf padded over to the prisoner and bared his fangs.
A single low growl was enough to crush any thought of resistance.
Albert checked the man's pulse.
"He's still alive."
"Good."
Lusian looked down at the assassin with an icy expression.
"He stays alive until he tells me who sent him."
Only then did he turn his gaze toward Andrew.
The prince remained motionless.
For as long as he could remember, he had heard stories about House Douglas.
A family of assassins.
Guardians who operated from the shadows.
Many feared them.
Others distrusted them.
Yet none of those rumors matched what he had just witnessed.
Without asking for anything in return, Lusian had risked his life to protect him.
Without hesitation.
Without seeking recognition.
Andrew had grown up listening to the tales the nobility told about House Douglas.
Assassins.
Shadows.
A family that walked the line between loyalty and fear.
But those words belonged to people who knew only part of the story.
The kingdom had not always been a kingdom.
Before the Crown, these lands had been home to countless clans, each with its own laws, leaders, and pride.
The unification had not been born from peace.
It had been born from necessity.
When foreign powers began to see those divided lands as an opportunity for conquest, four great families realized one simple truth:
A divided land would never survive.
That was how the pact that upheld the Crown came into existence.
Each family accepted a role.
Some would govern beneath the light.
Others would defend the borders.
And House Douglas would bear the burden no one else wished to acknowledge.
The conflicts that could never be resolved in public.
The threats that had to disappear before they became wars.
The decisions no king could ever admit to making.
Andrew had overheard those conversations since childhood.
He had seen important names vanish from official records.
He had heard orders spoken behind closed doors that would never reach the ears of the people.
He knew what the Douglases truly were.
That was why, when they emerged from the mist, Andrew felt no fear.
He felt relief.
Because if House Douglas had arrived, then there was still a chance to survive.
The Crown was the voice of the kingdom.
The Douglases were the hand that acted when that voice could not.
They were not rivals.
They were not opposites.
They were two halves of the same covenant.
Lusian inclined his head ever so slightly.
"Your Highness. You are safe."
His voice remained as calm as ever.
"But if you wish to stay alive... you should be more careful next time."
Andrew lowered his gaze.
For the first time since leaving the capital, he found himself at a loss for words.
He simply watched Lusian as he calmly began issuing orders.
Lusian knew there was something more important than immediate victory: the Crown had to learn the truth.
If the Empire was behind these attacks, then the king needed to know. They could not allow those responsible to disappear into the shadows.
That was why he ordered his knights to capture alive every attacker who had dared to assassinate the "useless" crown prince.
Albert, Charles, and the rest of the group did their best to obey.
But the battlefield was far crueler than any order.
Many of the enemy were elite fighters. Every one of them was capable of killing several knights if given the chance. On top of that, protecting Andrew demanded absolute concentration. A single mistake could cost the prince his life.
There was no room for restraint.
Not when every passing second could mean another death.
Some enemies had to be killed before they could strike again.
Others died resisting capture.
In the end, despite their efforts, they managed to capture only three survivors.
It was not the outcome Lusian had wanted.
But those three prisoners were pieces of evidence the Crown could not afford to ignore.
Silence returned to the forest.
Only the crackling of burning trees and the groans of the wounded disturbed the stillness.
The air remained heavy with the smell of blood, smoke, and ozone.
Three assassins knelt on the ground, restrained by mana chains.
The rest lay dead.
Lusian surveyed the battlefield.
Too many corpses.
Too few prisoners.
He clicked his tongue.
"I told you to capture as many as possible."
Albert lowered his head.
"We tried, my lord."
He glanced at the bodies.
"But protecting His Highness came first. Many chose death over surrender."
Charles wiped the blood from his sword.
"The ones who survived weren't exactly eager to talk, either."
Lusian said nothing.
It only confirmed one thing.
The entire operation had been planned in advance.
He turned toward Andrew.
The prince was still sitting on a rock while a healer treated the wound on his shoulder.
His breathing had finally steadied.
"I want every detail."
Andrew looked up.
"We left the trail to hunt a giant mantis."
He paused.
"That's when the attacks began."
Lusian frowned slightly.
"Do you think the mantis appeared by coincidence?"
Andrew shook his head.
"Not anymore."
Richard remained silent.
Every piece was falling into place.
First the beast.
Then the ambush.
And finally, the absence of reinforcements.
None of it had been an accident.
Albert approached with a grim expression.
"My lord."
He cast one last glance at the prisoners.
"They're all from the Empire."
"Are you certain?"
"Their weapons, military tattoos, and combat techniques leave no room for doubt."
Lusian remained silent for several seconds.
That was enough to confirm his suspicions.
Andrew raised his head.
"Did you hear the names Alessia Ferrussi or Leonardo?"
Richard slowly shook his head.
"No."
His expression darkened.
"But there was something strange."
Everyone looked at him.
"Not a single squad responded to the distress signal."
Silence settled over the forest once again.
Andrew slowly clenched his fists.
The enemy leader had been right.
Everything had been arranged in advance.
This had never been a spontaneous attack.
They had chosen the perfect time.
The perfect place.
The perfect enemies.
They had wanted him to die there.
Then, several silhouettes came running through the trees.
Albert stepped forward.
Charles raised his sword.
Thunder snorted, tiny sparks dancing through his mane.
Umbra bared his fangs.
Eight knights emerged from the mist.
Their armor was battered and broken.
Some limped with every step.
Others could barely remain standing.
Yet they kept moving.
The royal crest still gleamed upon their breastplates.
The man at the front stopped the moment he saw Lusian.
By instinct, his hand went to the hilt of his sword.
The Douglas knights reacted instantly.
The atmosphere shifted.
For a single heartbeat, the two groups stood on the verge of clashing.
"Lower your weapons!" Andrew commanded.
His voice cut through the tension.
The men froze.
The newcomer took a deep breath before striking his fist against his chest.
"Captain Julian, Your Highness."
His voice was rough with exhaustion.
"We came as quickly as we could."
Andrew studied their wounds.
He didn't need to ask.
These men had fought.
"What happened?"
Julian closed his eyes for a brief moment.
Guilt flashed across his face.
"We were ambushed."
His hand clenched into a fist.
"We lost five men."
No one spoke.
Even the Douglas knights remained silent.
Five lives.
Julian continued.
"We tried to break through and reach Your Highness, but every time we advanced, we ran into more traps."
Richard stepped forward.
"Who attacked you?"
Julian slowly shook his head.
"I don't know."
His expression grew grimmer.
"But they knew our route."
"They knew exactly where we'd pass."
"They had prepared magical traps before we arrived... and even unleashed summoned beasts to force us apart."
Albert exchanged a glance with Richard.
The same pattern.
The same strategy.
They hadn't been seeking battle.
They had been trying to divide them.
"How did you escape?" Andrew asked.
Julian remained silent for several seconds.
As though he still couldn't make sense of what had happened.
"That's the strange part..."
Everyone waited.
"Just when we thought they were about to finish us..."
He lowered his gaze.
"They withdrew."
The silence that followed was heavier than any scream.
"They withdrew?" Andrew repeated.
Julian nodded.
"They didn't look like they were retreating."
He paused.
"It was as if they'd received a new order."
Andrew slowly lowered his gaze.
First to the corpses.
Then to the survivors.
Finally to Lusian.
At last, he understood.
The attack had never been meant solely to kill his escort.
"They wanted to isolate me."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
Yet everyone heard him.
"They wanted to wipe out my guard... leave me defenseless..."
Andrew clenched his teeth.
"And kill me here."
He paused.
"In a place where no witnesses would remain to prove the Empire was behind this."
Lusian stood perfectly still, trying to maintain the cold expression expected of a Douglas.
The problem was that he still didn't know how much of it was an act.
How much pride was enough?
How much indifference did he have to show before no one noticed the difference?
Andrew watched him silently for several seconds.
Normally, Lusian would have already made some arrogant remark about the incompetence of his guards. He would have acted annoyed, as though helping were an unbearable inconvenience, while accepting the responsibility without a second thought.
But this time...
He said nothing.
He simply stood there.
Far too quiet.
Andrew narrowed his eyes.
Something had changed.
"...Very well," he sighed at last. "Then I have no other choice."
He looked at the wounded knights around him.
The situation was obvious.
They had survived.
But they were in no condition to protect him from another attack.
"I need you to escort me to the edge of the forest."
He paused.
"My men aren't enough."
Lusian took several seconds before answering.
"No."
Andrew blinked.
The reply was exactly what he had expected.
It sounded very much like Lusian.
Yet something was off.
The arrogance was missing.
The smug smile.
That irritating confidence of someone who always seemed one step ahead of everyone else.
This time, it sounded more like someone trying to remember how he was supposed to act.
"Please," Andrew said.
"For my sister's sake."
Lusian looked away.
For a moment, he seemed to search for the proper response.
Finally, he let out a quiet sigh.
"What a nuisance."
Andrew remained silent.
After knowing him for so many years, he understood exactly what those words meant.
It was Lusian's way of saying yes without ever admitting he cared.
But this time, something was different.
The same words.
The same attitude.
Yet somehow...
They sounded strangely forced.