As Alfred finally revealed the strength he’d hidden all this time, he clashed with the enemy.

“Your Highness! Hurry!”

Yet, Aziel stood frozen, as if rooted to the spot. Even Alfred’s desperate shout failed to move him. Aziel remained motionless, maintaining a lofty composure. Behind the pale mask bearing a ghostly face, red eyes gleamed. He could hear voices, clearly, he wasn’t dead.

Had he simply lost too much blood? Should Alfred prioritize getting the prince to safety?

This enemy’s strength was far beyond what could be handled while also protecting the prince. As Alfred’s thoughts grew increasingly entangled, 

“Do not think of protecting me. Do not think of running. How pitiful. I’ll give you a chance. I’ll watch you. Even if it costs your life.”

Came the prince’s voice, dripping with arrogance, erasing all doubt. But beneath that arrogance, madness seethed.

“Win.”

“The butler hid his identity.”

Only shadows filled his vision. He couldn’t see a thing, but slicing through those shadows came the chilling sensation of approaching blades pressing against his skin.

[Reading the fate of the blade. It targets a vital point—lethal.]

[Reading the fate of the blade. It aims for the nerves.]

[Reading the fate of the blade. It seeks your lungs. It’s trying to steal your breath.]

[Reading the fate of the blade. It’s going for your heart. A fatal strike.]

One by one, the visions of death charging in to claim his life flashed before his eyes. Attacks came from every direction; front, back, side, above, below.

The enemy had decided to kill him, and had the power to do it, but fate is often altered by the smallest differences. Both the enemy and Alfred were shrouded in thick shadows, their vision obscured, a blade dashed straight toward him.

“Flash!”

A brilliant light burst forth from the darkness.It was the fate of light, stolen from Sol’s shadows.Under the midday sun, it might have gone unnoticed, but in this darkness, even a sliver of light blazed like fire. A brief distortion of sight and sense.

“The stage is set.”

A foundation to evade the deadly fate of countless blades, and the single most important difference between the enemy and himself.

“The eye that sees fate.”

If the enemy’s sight was blinded by darkness and flickering light,  Alfred saw the fate he faced with clarity.

[Activating minor fate: Luck. Attribute: Clutch. All luck accumulates under a new attribute: Narrow Escape.]

[Reading the one and only survival fate.]

[Reading the fate of this location. Identifying the single direction in which survival is possible.]

Though nothing around him was visible, the path of fate was clear. This was no blind dodge,it was fate-guided evasion. As the space filled with approaching blades, a single step.

He twisted his body ever so slightly, dodging the blade rushing for his vitals, and the moment he stepped toward fate,

“Click.” Like unlocking a lock, the entire course of fate twisted, and then,

“Slice-slice-slice-slice!” Blades from the enemy pierced him in several places.

“Your Highness!”

“Prince Aziel!”

The shadows exploded, and the prince along with all the assassin’s clones vanished, while Sol and the driver frantically searched for Aziel,

“I’ll find the prince. You get out of here.” A chilling voice rang out above their heads.

A killing intent stronger than anything they’d ever felt before. No less than that of the assassin they’d just faced. As they turned their gaze upward, they saw Alfred’s face, now grotesquely twisted.

“But, Your Highness !” As Sol worried over Aziel’s safety,

“Now! Go and get help!” Alfred barked in a rough voice, shoving her away.

Sol stumbled, trying to escape the place, but the canyon, once an open field, had become a maze again. The thick scent of blood and killing intent returned. The assassin was back.

Sol looked around, desperately searching for the prince and Alfred, but all she could see was pitch-black corridors.

“No! No, no, get a grip! Get a grip, you idiot!”. She fought to pull herself together, summoning a small light.

 “Let’s go! We have to find someone, anyone, to help!”

Dragging the driver, she escaped the maze. First, they had to get out and find help, no matter what.

Steel Castle was full of powerful fighters. Someone there could handle that monster of an assassin.

“I’ll be one of them someday… I will!”

Though she resented not being one of those fighters now, rescuing the prince took priority over any self-doubt. Just as she passed a half-destroyed vehicle, 

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

“Hey! Someone’s here!” A frantic voice came from the trunk of the car.

Sol paused, hesitating…Could this be part of the prince’s contingency plan?

She opened the trunk, just in case.

“Your Highness! It’s me, Andre! I’m here to serve, ‘bleargh’!” Andre sprang out, along with a heap of vomit.

“Wh-where’s His Highness …’bleargh’!”

“AAACK! Get away from me!”

“Alfred regretted it.”

As a member of the Iron Blood Guard, sworn to protect the royal family, he was not in a position to assert his own values. In fact, his mission was the opposite, to watch over a mad prince who could become the royal family’s cancer. If deemed a real threat, Alfred was ordered to stand by or even aid in the prince’s death. Even so, 

“Why… Why did I stand there like a fool?!”

For the first time, Alfred fiercely scolded himself for his cold, neutral execution of countless past missions. Even though he had followed protocol perfectly, rage surged within him. A torrent of emotions he’d never known before. Why now?

“No… I have to keep watching a little longer.”

It wasn’t just regret over a prince dying. What he’d felt earlier, admiration. What he felt now, rage. For the first time in his life, so cold and calculated, devoid of human emotion and guided solely by royal interest…

“He felt loyalty.”

There was no time to ponder the reason. But certain memories flashed before his eyes.

Moments when the prince had changed. When he began to try. When he invited his mother and sister to dinner. That confident smile while sipping wine. That lone silhouette emerging from the forest at sunset. Alfred’s legs moved before his mind could catch up. He shed his disguise. Short graying hair, plain brown eyes, and a wrinkled face emerged as black sand flowed like a mirage from his body.

The power of his bloodline “Iron Sand”,was what got him into the Iron Blood Guard as an orphan.He had stood out even among the cadets, rising swiftly to his current position. 

The fine sand gathered, becoming heavy and solid. As he sprinted to the edge of the maze,

“Your Highness …!” Without thinking, he shouted toward the prince standing at the end.

Though he stood firm, his entire body was soaked in blood. Had Alfred’s hesitation cost the prince his life? 

As the butler,no, the Iron Blood Guard warrior known as Sa-Cheol swallowed his seething rage.

“I’m not dead yet.” The prince spoke.

The assassin reappeared, sword slicing toward Aziel once more. But in that moment

“Cease that hand! How dare you!” Alfred’s body shot forward like smoke, sliding between 

the two.

The assassin’s sword aimed for the prince’s heart,

“Clashhhhhh!”

But a fierce surge of iron sand blocked it, mere millimeters from Aziel’s chest. 

The sandstorm then wrapped around the assassin.

“Your Highness! Please escape now!”

Wielding twin daggers, Alfred dashed toward the desert assassin with everything he had. Seeing that the prince still lived brought him both relief and strength, even if he were to die now. So long as the prince survived, it would all be worth it.