The prince’s voice rang across the courtyard.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

They didn’t really believe he would do it. That much was clear on their faces. But could he really not?

The madness blazing in his eyes said otherwise. The upper-level officers scrambled down the stairs in a panic, dropping to their knees before him.

Laughter echoed across the compound, cold, unhinged. A sudden shift in the air. Bloodshed hung just on the edge of reality.

“Y-Your Highness,” one mage stammered, “p-perhaps it would be best to calm down fir …”

“Silence!” 

The shout boomed, and Sol, who had stepped forward to intervene, instantly dropped flat to the floor in shock. And just like that, she became the target of his fury.

“This kind of disgrace happens to you because you’re weak! Pathetic, lacking, and dim, like a useless lamppost!”

“A… lamppost, Your Highness?” she blinked, startled.

“Get up. You’re coming with me.”

His voice dripped with irritation.

“A lamppost might be useful to light the path while hunting.”

Sol quickly scrambled to pack a few essential items, face pale. Before they departed, the prince threw one last warning to the silent officers behind him.

“If any of you think this kind of stunt will fly again, someone will die next time. Most likely you.”

“…Understood.”

[You have devoured Sol’s lesser fates: helplessness, anger, inferiority complex, and self-deprecation. You have earned evolution points.]
[You have devoured the lesser fate: Murderer. You have earned evolution points.]
[You have intervened in the target’s fate. A new fate is emerging.]
[New Fate: Combat Instinct has been generated.]

His anger hadn’t cooled.From the commander to the deputy, he placed the entire upper command under disciplinary confinement for disobeying a royal order and engaging in unjust conduct. Word spread quickly across Steel Fortress.

Some murmured in disapproval, calling it excessive. Others whispered that the Mad Prince had shown remarkable restraint. There were even rumors. That the mage named Sol had caught his eye. That something romantic had sparked. Or that the prince had deliberately stirred trouble with a corps aligned to another royal faction.

But whatever the gossip, he  didn’t care.

He remained in seclusion at the Forest of Spirits for several days, ignoring the noise.

[Lesser Fate: Shadow has been enhanced! Its strength causes nearby shadows to flee.]
[Lesser fates devoured: Laziness, Mediocrity, Average Stamina, and Common Constitution. Evolution points acquired!]
[Luck has been activated! Additional evolution points acquired. Investing points… Luck has increased.]

Eyes flicked to the floating notifications, satisfied. A glance toward the greatsword resting beside him.

[You inspect the fate of the Greatsword. Some rust has been removed. Evolution points acquired!]
[The fate sealed within the blade begins to reveal itself.]

Where once there was nothing but thick rust, now hints of a dark, obsidian blade peeked through.

The weapon’s fate stirred, barely visible, still buried beneath jagged, red thorns that lined the saw-like edges.

“Still a long way to go… Maybe it’s time to invest in some evolution or mystic points. That might tear the rust off all at once.”

His muttering broke off at the sound of voices.

“Your Highness?”

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

Sol and Andre emerged from the edge of the shattered woods, eyes scanning the devastation. Broken trees littered the ground, shattered masks of monsters scattered among them, some bearing the grotesque faces of White-Faced Centipedes. He’d just swept through them all in one wild dance of steel.

Even Andre looked dumbfounded by the sheer destruction.

“Let’s rest a while,”  said coolly, leaning on the massive blade. “Keep watch.”

As he caught his breath, Andre called out instructions.

“Sol, cast a light spell. I’ll hold the front. You strike any that get past me.”

“Got it!”

The two fought by his side, fending off the flood of White-Faced creatures drawn by the noise …The pace was brutal. But power demanded sacrifice, and neither Sol nor Andre hesitated. In the heat of battle, they too grew stronger.

Eventually, 

“We move,”  said.

“You wish to continue hunting?” Andre asked.

“No. That’s enough. There’s somewhere I need to be.”

After days of endless combat, the prince finally set his sights on a new destination. The Garden of Spirits. Time for another negotiation. Or was it another threat?

• At the Garden of Spirits   –

“Today’s tea is a young choryu leaf blend from the northern Alek region,” said the handmaid with a bow. “It should suit Your Highness’ tastes.”

“Mm. It’s better. I don’t accept offerings made in vain,” Princess Serinne replied with a lift of her pinky, poised and graceful as always.

Just as she prepared to take a sip, 

“Your Highness! Princess!”

A page came rushing through the garden gates, panting.

“Prince ! He’s here! You must hide!”

Even as the warning left his lips, the figure of the Mad Prince emerged into view.   And in his hand, “that sword”.

The sound it made as it dragged across the stone, 

“Skrrrkkkkkk… “ An ominous screech that sent chills up the spine.

“That lunatic…!” Serinne gasped, leaping to her feet and forgetting the tea entirely.

Why now? What had she done? She hadn’t meddled with anything lately, had she?

She racked her brain, face twitching. But then, chin lifted, voice cold, 

“Hmph. Why should I run? As if I have something to fear.”

Though her mouth moved confidently, her heart thundered in her chest. What the hell was he planning this time?

He stopped in front of her table. His movements were unexpectedly elegant. Then he sat down.

“Pour me a cup of tea.”

“…Why are you here?”

“Tea.”

“Not until you explain.”

“Should I swing?”

His hand tightened around the sword’s hilt. The metal groaned.

“Make it a full cup.”

“You can pour it yourself. I don’t serve commoners.”

“I am royal. But not a maid.”

“And I am a princess. Not a servant.”

“Should I swing?”

Gritting her teeth, Serinne reluctantly lifted the pot and poured tea into his cup, filling it to the brim in quiet rebellion.

But, 

“SPLASH!”

“Ghk,!”  flung the tea at the nearby attendants without hesitation.

“Pour it again.”

“You absolute…!”

“Again.”

Swallowing her pride, she poured once more, this time a normal amount.

He took a sip.

“Disgusting. Why do people drink this garbage?”

He clicked his tongue and leaned back.

“The negotiation is off.”

“What!?”

She blinked, completely lost.

“Tell Her Majesty the tea her daughter brewed was so awful the negotiation had to be canceled.”

“Wait, what are you even talking about?!”

“And tell her to stop scheming to save her pet eunuchs. It’s pointless. In fact, she made it easier for me to crush them.”

“Why are you saying this to me?! Afraid to tell the Empress yourself?!”

“Afraid? No. I’m telling you because it’ll piss her off more if it comes from you. That’s the point.”

Serinne stared in stunned silence, lips parted.

A prince shouldn’t act like this, not in front of anyone.But no one could say anything. Because the madness behind his words was too real.

“Tell her to prepare the worst trial she can imagine. I’m looking forward to it.”

“You want me to deliver that message?”

“Even if you don’t, the rats around here will. Right, Serinne?”

“…”

“Seventh Princess, don’t mistake the people around you for yours. Nothing here belongs to you. Just a bit of brotherly advice.”

With a final smirk,  stood up and sauntered away, sword scraping the floor in elegant chaos.

“Skrrrk…”

“That insane bastard…!”

Her shout followed him, but he only laughed harder. Just as he predicted, the Empress would soon learn of everything, and prepare the harshest trial she could conjure…Just like before.

[New Fate: Wilderness, Malice, Isolation awaits you.]
[A powerful threat lurks, ready to devour you.]
[Lesser fates: Fire, Shadow, and Greatsword stir within. The mysteries you possess await their destiny.]

And for ?

It would be an opportunity…