After the fight, the first thing Andre did was check on the children. The demonic smoke they had inhaled couldn’t be without consequence. He rushed to their side, expecting the worst.

But, 

“Mmm… it’s warm…”

“Mmm, meat… tasty…”

The blackened veins that had marred their skin earlier were now gone. Most of the children, inexplicably, slept with peaceful expressions. Perhaps the fire that had consumed the orphanage had done more than just burn, it had purified.

A small mercy.

Before long, that warmth, too, faded. Like magic being dispelled, the flames vanished. A bitter wind crept in through the broken walls, and the orphans began to stir. Rubbing sleep from their eyes, they looked around, dazed, the nightmare still fresh.

“Andre…?”

“Andre!”

“Where’s the director? Where is he?”

The memory of that horror clung to their voices. Frightened and confused, they clung to the one person they trusted most.

“Well, the director, he… um…”

Those small hands clutched his sleeves. Their wide eyes sparkled with hope. Andre stood in the freezing dawn, surrounded by fragile bodies that leaned into his warmth.

How could he tell them they had lost another parent? He couldn’t.

“He went on a trip! A long one! Might take a while before he’s back!”

It was a poor lie, flimsy as paper, tears welled up. A few sniffles threatened to break into sobs.

“He said he’d bring back delicious things! Lots of treats! Candy, sweets, even cloud candy from the north!”

“Cloud candy? Really?”

“Wow!”

Miraculously, the story worked. Their tears paused, curiosity and excitement momentarily outweighing grief.

They asked question after question, what city had he gone to, how many candies would he bring, when would he return? 

But among the youngest, whose baby teeth were still falling out, older ones sat in silence.

“Tch.”

“Liar.”

“Yeah, right.”

They knew better. The world had taught them too much.

Just as one of them opened his mouth to speak, 

“Shhh.”

From behind Andre, a figure stepped forward.

Platinum hair that caught the faint starlight. Crimson eyes that gleamed like embers…. 

He raised a single finger to his lips, that alone was enough.

The children fell silent. An air of clarity and warmth emanated from him, the same warmth that had enveloped them as they slept. It was the scent of calm, of purity.

“Who… are you?”

One of the youngest, nestled in Andre’s arms, whispered the question. All eyes turned to the man behind him.

“He, uh… I mean…”

Andre stuttered. The memory of what he’d once said resurfaced.

‘Handsome and crazy.’

Not his finest moment.

Before he could silence the children, 

“Are you the crazy handsome prince?”

Innocent, honest, and dangerously direct.

The prince laughed,a clear, bright sound filled the ruined orphanage.

 shook his head slowly.

“You left something out.”

“Something out?”

“Yeah.”

He grinned at the children.

“Say it right, ‘the most crazy, most handsome prince in the world.’ If you’re going to call someone something, make it the best.”

“…”

“…Your Highness?”

The arrogance, the ease, the shamelessness. It stunned them for a moment.

Then came the laughter.

“Yes! The most crazy, most handsome prince in the world!”

And just like that, Andre’s lie became a truth. To them, their brother’s lord wasn’t just noble. He was special. Wonderfully and unmistakably insane.

It was a moment they would carry forever.

“Come, Andre. We’re not done yet.”

 turned. With noble steps, he led his knight away from the orphanage.

The capital was in an uproar. News of a demon worshipper in the imperial city spread like wildfire. Reporters swarmed the Guard stations and Knight headquarters.

“Did you know there was a demon cultist in the sewer district?”

“How did you find out? What’s the status of the investigation?”

“Is it true the case was stopped due to political pressure?”

“Flash. Flash.” The glow of mana flashes painted the walls. At the southeastern district guard post, inside the Investigation Division, 

“Out! Everyone out! What are you doing?! That’s evidence, don’t touch it! Hey! What are you doing just standing there? Throw them out!”

Galen shouted at the top of his lungs, the stress was overwhelming.

As if stonewalled cooperation hadn’t been enough, now a swarm of nosy, relentless reporters.

“Cooperation denied, huh? Who’s refusing to help?”

“Is there pressure? Who’s behind it?”

“No, that’s not…”

No one listened.

Pens scribbled… Heads nodded… Sensational headlines took form.

“Refusal to cooperate, who’s responsible?”

“Collaborators among the guards?”

“First investigator abandoned in the line of duty!”

Then, 

“Move! Clear the way!” Armored soldiers pushed through.

“Cover-up!”

“Who sent them?!”

“This is suppression of the press!”

Shouts filled the air, but the soldiers didn’t stop. Threats about press freedom had no effect, these men moved with the assurance that someone even more powerful stood behind them. Even Galen felt it. This wasn’t just about reporters. Once the crowd was gone, silence returned.

And then, the sound of boots.

“Captain Galen?”

The leader of the unit approached.

“That’s me. What’s this about?”

“There’s no need for an alarm. I’m here to deliver your appointment.”

“Appointment?”

“You’ve been named Lead Investigator of the demon worship case. Someone above made the recommendation. You can come with us to receive it,or surrender your evidence here.”

That would normally provoke fury, but Galen remembered the note.

‘If you want to bite, you must first crawl beneath them.’

Maybe this was the moment.

Everything lined up too perfectly. He recalled the fire. The madness.

“Fine. I’ll come.”

He would crawl through their legs. To bite them where it hurts most.

The capital had been shaken, understandably so.

A demon cultist had not only lived but thrived within the empire’s walls. Even now, more evidence was being discovered. Each day brought new horrors.

Most jarring of all, 

“Hundreds of skeletons found beneath the orphanage…”

The orphanage that had once served as the only haven for sewer orphans had been a den of evil. Bones of missing children, unspeakable acts. Every new article plunged the city deeper into horror.

Naturally, 

“Many are asking about the prince.” 

People wanted to know. Who had found the cultist? Who had killed him?

“If you said it was you, public opinion could change,” Alfred suggested calmly.

He wasn’t wrong. If the truth were made public, if the prince stood at the center of this story, it could shift everything.

Even the royal family would likely back the claim, eager to restore public faith.

To prove the blood of kings still guarded the empire.