Laurin Hauesl, the Throne Room, Versez' Royal Castle; Kingdom of Eins, 610

Laurin watched as the Prince walked towards Julien. He couldn't help but be caught up in the mood, feeling the tension create sparks throughout the Throne. The audience is coming along to the ride, and he knew that his Prince has planned for it.

Yesterday, after Anson reported that the crown has been stolen, Laurin felt a cold air creep along his back as he saw the Prince's expression. Before he could say a word, the Prince suddenly turned around and proclaimed that they were going to have a party that night. That everyone should relax and just forget about everything until tomorrow came.

Laurin couldn't judge the Prince. Most of the time, he was playful, but yesterday and especially earlier, there was a different vibe around him.

His movements were precise, the tone in his voice strong, and then when he summoned the weapons Laurin was convinced.

This man is not the same kid he knew.

"...do you choose to die today?" As the Prince threw his question, Julien dashed towards the Prince. He was fast, bridging the distance before anyone could blink.

Once Julien got close, he made a quick thrust forward with both arms, aiming for the Prince's chest.

The Prince side-stepped, using his right foot to pivot his body to his left, and crouched as he did so. Julien's sword only brushed past him.

Julien steadied his footing as his thrust missed and used his upper torso to follow the Prince's step. The Prince cocked his right arm before throwing an explosively fast jab towards Julien's neck.

Julient bent his body backwards, while also changing his grip to a single-handed one. Julien guided his free hand and crossed over the path of the Prince's blade, avoiding it. He was probably aiming to grab the Prince's head.

The Prince showed excellent control even after releasing such a fast attack. He withdrew his right arm back and used his other weapon to slash vertically, aiming to intercept Julien's right hand.

Julien saw through it and also withdrew back his arm. As he did, he swung his sword to deliver a slash. He used his left foot to push his weight forward. The momentum transferred power to his shoulders, delivering a snappy diagonal slash.

The Prince quickly jumped away from Julien and the slash, landing on both feet a few meters away.

Laurin was surprised that the fight didn't completely surprise him, but the audience around him were concentrating, tracing every movement with their eyes.

They all held an atmosphere of disbelief, probably towards the few glimpses of the Prince's fighting ability. He also saw that a lot of the people were watching the Prince with hopeful stares, their hearts probably captured by the Prince's unique style of combat.

Julien returned to his stance, while the Prince only made a few slashing gestures, before both charged towards each other again. As they neared their opponents, mana erupted from them: the Prince glowing with a thick, gray halo around his body, Julien's red.

The next few movements seemed all too surreal to Laurin.

Julien decided to stop abruptly as he closed in on the Prince, then turned his body. He stopped turning mid-way so that his sword arm was adjacent to the Prince's body, before commiting to a downward slash towards the Prince.

Though the slash was faster than what he'd done before, the Prince was able to use his left blade to block the incoming slash, the sound of metal rapturing the Throne Room.

As the Prince blocked and their blades intertwined, The Prince took a step forward and forced his blocking hand backwards, forcing Julien's sword to go over and behind the Prince.

Julien's stance was ruined, and the Prince dropped his body towards the ground and spun while delivering a slash targetting Julien's midsection.

Julien was only barely able to dodge, and the audience flinched as the Prince's blade edged around Julien's abdomen before he could jump back, off-balance when he landed.

The Prince didn't plan to plop to the ground. He threw away the blade in his blocking hand and quickly used his free hand to push him away from the floor, launching him in the air.

The Princemaneuvered through his freefall smoothly, and landed to a crouch as another blade quickly materialized on his left hand. The discarded one disappeared. Throughout that exchange, the Prince's expression remained the same: hazy, unfocused eyes, and an unmoving face.

Laurin gulped. He felt a shiver tickle behind his neck. The Prince did well in that exchange, he thought, as blood gushed forth from Julien's abdomen, the traitor clutching it with his left hand and glaring at the Prince with a grimace. He could hear the audience discussing the battle, in concert with his thoughts as the battle went on.

The Prince didn't wait for a counter-attack, and rushed in as he darted from left to right while he neared his opponent. Once close, he didn't actually strike, but positioned himself close beside Julien, just to the traitor's right side.

Julien aimed a downward thrust as he stepped aside, stabbing towards Prince's head.

Immediately before the strike proved true, a gush of mana imploded inwards the Prince's body, and he disappeared. He appeared behind Julien before he delivered a cut that ran straight from the traitor's right shoulders down to his waist.

Julien buckled, but steadied his stance with his right foot, then he twisted his body haphazardly as he threw a blind diagonal slash behind him, hitting nothing but air.

Julien perked then looked above. The Prince was diving towards him, his arms crossed over his neck, bolting downwards. Julien leaned back and placed his sword-arm near the floor, then threw a blinding thrust, meeting The Prince's path.

The audience held their breaths in anticipation, while Laurin in dread.

But as the Prince got close, he used his right blade to deflect Laurin's sword to the side, and plummeted with a downward thrust of his own with his left. Julien was able to step to the side quickly, before a rummage of smoke exploded from the ground.

Julien's body flew through the air like a ragdoll, crashing a few meters away from the battle. He rolled through the crash and was able to quickly stand up.

The audience's discussion got louder as they saw his state. Laurin clenched his fists tighter.

Blood stained Julien's face, arms, and back, and he limped as he went back to his stance.

As the smoke cleared, the audience saw a large crater on the floor, and in the middle of it, stood an uninjured, unfocused Prince.

Mana then started glowing around the Prince. He probably was intent on finishing Julien off. His killing intent made the crowd fidget, eyes looking towards the door. The eerieness of the Prince's glare was frightening most people.

The audience only allowed themselves a few seconds to glance at the Prince before looking away, though others had steady looks of admiration.

By now, Laurin realized that the way the Prince fought wasn't similar to any styles he knew. It was fluid, it had control, and it had power. Throughout the battle, it felt as if the Prince led and influenced Julien's movements, making the traitor dance and creating openings.

Laurin came to the conclusion that because the Prince didn't have any special ability, he must've trained his control over the enhancements that his mana is able to grant. He could be fast and strong constantly, but it also allowed him quick bursts of power and speed that not many people could perform consistently.

From what Laurin could glean as well, the Prince had a large mana pool. Not a lot of people could maintain an enhanced state without draining their reserves. The Prince, from the beginning where he used his mana, did not let up and continued to utilize it to improve his body and movements.

Julien on the other hand, is unable to enhance himself constantly. That was why he wasn't able to follow through with the Prince's attacks. The Prince could also steadily dodge, parry, and block Julien's strikes.

It also seemed that constantly enhancing your body increased its toughness and resiliency.

The Prince still breathed calmly as his eyes started to set on Julien.

Through Laurin's experience, he knew that not many could stand a chance against the Prince in close-combat. In fact, not a lot of mages save for the Knights are even trained in martial arts.

He felt fear and pride for his liege. Laurin wasn't even sure he could handle the Prince without his earth magic. He shuddered, he felt his heart and mind steel themselves, whispering to him the desire to serve The Prince.

Though the Prince was called weak, he fought through it and found his own strength. The strength of someone who wants to lead. Someone who's ready to take the brunt.

If this was a normal battle, the Prince would've won anytime he wanted. But this was not a normal battle.

Mana explosively left Julien's body as he dropped his sword. His bones started cracking, evidenced by the distinct noises coming from his body. He started to laugh weakly, before it became what was a maniacal laugh erupting throughout the hall.

The mana covered all around the Throne Room and the audience, causing goosebumps and ripples of dread to be revealed on their faces. Laurin felt as if the mana bypassed his armor, slithering around his skin. The fight has just begun.

"So... You aren't as weak as I thought you'd be." Julien coughed his laugh to a stop, and heaved a large chunk of air.

The sound of Julien's breath traveled through his throat and wheezed their way to Laurin's ears.

"I'd thought to play around with you for a little bit, but I guess this is fine. The conditions have been met. I'm in such a pitiful state. Just how it was before I killed your Father." Julien revealed as he grinned.

The Prince sped to a run as he threw one of his blades towards Julien.

The blood gushing out from Julien's wounds then literally started to boil as Julien's face crunched and shook. His body contorted in weird angles before the blood that stained his figure floated away from his body, then circled around him.

As a few seconds flew by, the spinning whirlpool of blood increased in speed, growing larger, before finally deflecting the blade thrown by the Prince.

The Prince stopped in his tracks a few paces away, then summoned another blade. He threw both at openings that Julien's blood didn't cover.

The crimson liquid moved as if it had a life of its own, intercepting the blades as the blood caught them. The blood then started to form into a hand, and with unnatural speed threw the blades back at their owner, forcing the Prince to dodge by his hair's breadth.

The Prince summoned two more weapons, then started to walk around Julien, his gaze never leaving the bloody whirlpool.

"Prepare.. yourself, fool." Julien said, the strength in his tone gone.

Some portions of the blood then sped forward, forming into numerous blades of their own that seeked the Prince's flesh.

The glow around the Prince's body brightened, as he dodged multiple blades that followed anywhere he went. As the blades of crimson went past him, it couldn't be helped that some found their way to the audiences.

The audience scrambled as they screamed for their life, running quickly for the door save for a few. There were some people who crawled on the ground, blood of their own gushing out of cuts and gashes, big and small.

Even fewer were people who stood idly by, still watching the battle. As the crimson blades neared them, some dodged precisely, others blocked with varying magic.

Laurin frantically looked over the Royal Guards, and bolted towards the crowd. He was careful not to get himself in the path of the blood-blades. As he did so, he glanced a bit at the struggling Prince, before grunting and committing himself to getting the people out.

"Men, open the door! This is Laurin!" His shout loomed over the people's panicked pleas, calming some of them down.

There were people who tried to steal a glance back towards the battle, but a lot of them were just waiting for their opportunity to escape.

The doors opened, then Laurin noticed a gray-haired man calmly leaning his back on a pillar, away from the stampede. The old man held in his arms what appeared to be the crown and the robe.

Laurin gestured for one of his men to take some of his orders.

"Get the castle in a lockdown. The crowning will still happen today, and I don't want these people leaving the premises until after that. Get them to somewhere safe within the Castle." The guard saluted and went to his duty, while Laurin ran to the gray-haired man.

As the quiet aide of Julien, Laurin has had many run-ins with the man named Baldwin. Laurin was frequently at his King's side, as much as Baldwin was at his master's.

"Baldwin. You still seem awfully relaxed. You do know that even the Blood Mage has limits. He only has so much blood. I'm surprised you're only standing there as if your master's life wasn't in danger." Baldwin turned his head at the mention of his name, only slightly nodding.

"Correct, it does have limits. Limits which will show today. Be glad, Laurin, it appears your faction's victory is near."

Laurin stopped approaching, then creased his brows and eyed the old man in suspicion.

"What do you mean? Didn't you swear loyalty to Julien? You've got the wrong idea about how you express that loyalty." Laurin argued.

"Swear loyalty? Loyalty is but a concept, Sir Laurin. I'm amazed you still haven't realized that."

Laurin pursed as he heard a painful scream from the battle. Looking over, his heart sank. His Prince was panting and bleeding heavily. He had cuts across his legs, limiting his movements, allowing the blades to at times reach and cut his arms, shoulders, cheeks and torso.

The Prince's right hand limped awkwardly to his side, and his stance was slumped as he maneuvered around any attack that he could manage.

Deep inside, Laurin wanted to come to his assistance, but he knew that he must trust his Prince. It was true, loyalty is only as fickle as the times, but Laurin was determined to see through his loyalty to the end.

Laurin snarled at Baldwin.

"That might be so for you, but to people like me, loyalty is born out of privilege. We appreciate and are thankful for the fact that we have leaders that we can look up to. How about you ask yourself? You probably saw that Julien was not a man worthy of your fealty, hence your outlook." Laurin accused of Baldwin.

Baldwin curled his lips.

"Maybe."

The battle then took a turn in a different direction, as the Prince's mana bursts outwards, then covered his blades. The Prince forced his arms and legs to move, and he gradually got a grasp on the incoming blades. He bobbed through the attacks and blocked some. Slowly, he began to close in on Julien.

Julien on the otherhand jutted his face as he raised his arms, directing the leftover blood circling around him. The red pool shaped it into a thin wide stretch: a curtain of blood in front of him.

The previous blades of blood then coalesced and surrounded the Prince, throwing his approach off balance, before the blood encircled his body and entangled him into a bind.

As The Prince lost his freedom of movement, the blades he fashioned disappeared but the glow of his mana brightened even more. The Prince shouted in agony as the bindings tried to go past his mana defense and split him in half.

Veins buldged on the Prince's body as he struggled, and he tried to catch as much breath as possible. Julien's face looked like thunder as the curtain of blood he prepared marched slowly through the air and homed in on the Prince.

"Your Majesty!" Laurin started to zone in to help the Prince.

Suddenly, a large explosion of mana threw Laurin, Baldwin and the few spectators who left to see the fight to the end, away from the center of battle and smashed them to the walls.

As they all dropped down to the floor to their knees, Laurin immediately felt a piercing, heavy pressure weighing down on him. He used every muscle in his neck to look towards Baldwin, the remaining audience and guards close to the door, and concluded that they were all struggling under the same pressure.

Laurin felt a wave of mental trauma invade his being, feeling agony, fear, and death closing in on him. He fought against it as he forced himself to look towards where the Prince was.

Laurin felt a chill and sense of foreboding overcome this pressure, as he bugged out his eyes.

Julien was kneeling, and screaming. The Prince, standing squarely where he was before, was staring down at Julien with the look of murder in his eyes.