The ship's cargo bay was a cavernous space filled with crates, barrels, and various nautical equipment. The dim lighting cast long, looming shadows that stretched across the room. The smell of brine and wood hung heavy in the air, permeating the space.

Sophirea's eyes nearly popped out of her head at the sight. There stood a guy with jet-black hair, his eyes as blue as the summer sky, staring right back at her. He was decked out in leather pants and matching boots, with a plain white shirt that stuck to him like glue, showing off every line and curve of his lean muscles.

The young prince, the one they had dedicated relentless days and nights to finding, was unexpectedly right before her. It was as though he had materialized from the ether itself. Her mind was a tempest of unanswered queries. Still Sophirea composed herself.

With a delicate hand, she lightly touched Silica's shoulder, a silent communication between the two maids. Silica's feline ears twitched in response, a show of her heightened alertness, yet her gaze never strayed from Lazarus. Sophirea navigated her way around Silica, her strides filled with purpose and grace.

Upon noticing her approach, the young prince arched an inquisitive brow. Undeterred, Sophirea came to a halt a good distance from him. "Your highness Lazarus," she began, a hint of formality lacing her voice. "I am Sophirea Krivstine Elisteyone. It is an honor to stand before you."

She offered him a deep bow of respect, never breaking eye contact. "My name might not be familiar to you, but I've served the Valheart family for many years. I've been privileged to be a close advisor to your esteemed sister, Princess Anastasia Valheart."

A snicker slipped from the prince, causing Sophirea's eyes to narrow in silent query.

"Maybe you're mistaking me for someone else," the man said, flashing a good-natured grin. He then casually patted his chest, adding, "I'm Barry Allen. Snuck in here hoping to catch a peek of the famously gorgeous Princess Anastasia." He scratched his head, “Looks like I’ve been caught. I’m truly sorry for the inconvenience…”

Sophirea's expression remained an impassive mask, her seasoned years in the royal court teaching her the value of composure. She almost believed him except–

“The resemblance you bear to the royal portraits is uncanny," she countered. "Unless my vision betrays me, but I believe it doesn't.” She pivoted her gaze to Silica, seeking her input. “Silica, what does his scent reveal about him?”

Silica's nose twitched in response, her nostrils flaring subtly as she sampled the air. "His scent...a bit similar to master, but strange…” she finally remarked, her voice laced with curiosity.

Although intrigued by Silica's uncertainty, Sophirea's eyes gleamed with a hint of vindication. She turned her attention back to the prince. “The senses of the cat tribe are not to be easily dismissed.”

The man shook his head, keeping up his friendly grin. “I am but a simple villager who is an admirer of the princess but just if, I’m this prince Lazarus whom you claim me to be. Does that mean I get to be a prince and be close to her highness?” he eagerly leaned forward.

At this juncture, doubt began to seep into Sophirea's conviction, but a recollection of Silica's words about his scent mirroring the princess's held her firm. With a delicately furrowed brow, she responded, "I find it hard to believe I'm mistaken. To entertain your hypothetical scenario, indeed, an audience with her highness would be your privilege. If that be the case, might you accompany us, please?" Her slender elfin hand extended in invitation.

With a sigh resonating through the room, the man voiced his exasperation. “So, you really won’t budge, huh?” The change in his tone was striking, revealing the performance he'd been giving. At this juncture, Sophirea felt confident in her suspicions: this was indeed the prince.

"Your Highness," she addressed him, her hand reaching out towards him, "I urge you to consider reason." Yet, all Lazarus offered in response was a wary glance.

"Can't I just leave? Is that too much to ask?"

"If you wish, we can accompany you."

"No."

"And may I ask why you refuse our escort?"

“Well—”

Sophirea could sense the flux of Silica's mana from behind her. Silica possessed a unique capability, similar to the Twilight Princess, allowing her to cast the reinforcement spell without uttering a word. However, charging it to level 5 was time-consuming, leading Sophirea to assume that Silica must be at least at level 2 reinforcement by now. Against an opponent without any reinforcement, this should suffice, tipping the balance in their favor. Moreover, the Prince was renowned for his manalessness, precluding any chance of him countering with a spell of his own. As a precaution, Sophirea always anticipated the worst, and now—

"Silica!" Without hesitation, Sophirea ducked, feeling the surge of Silica's mana in the air around her. Like a bullet, Silica launched herself through the air, her blades gleaming menacingly overhead.

—

“Serus, ente–” Sophirea chanted as she focused on the Prince whose eyes narrowed at the daggers bearing down on him. He sidestepped with minimal movement, his eyes calmly following the daggers as they passed by him.

Sophirea’s eyes widened as his hand turned to a blur, countering with a speed and precision that belied his claimed lack of mana. Silica hurriedly raised her shoulder, grunting as the blow sent her spinning through the air. She spun and landed nimbly on all fours, hissing at the unexpected resistance.

“Atos!” Sophirea exclaimed, extending a finger to him. A barrel behind the Prince shot out a jet stream of high pressure water, and at the same time Silica rushed in front of him. A two pronged attack.

Time seemed to slow to Sophirea who saw the prince, shifting his stance. His feet were shoulder-width apart, his knees were bent, his hips tilted forward, and his upper body, upright. – a muay thai stance that she didn’t recognize.

The Prince lunged forward, grabbing her face and delivering a brutal knee strike, producing a ghastly crunching sound as her mana shield flickered under the impact before he spun just as the water was reaching him and using Silica as a human shield.

"Myaaaaahh!!" Silica's cry of agony pierced the air, forcing Sophirea to halt her spell. Suddenly, Lazarus whirled around, and all Sophirea could see was Silica's body hurtling towards her at an astonishing velocity. She barely managed to duck, but then she heard hurried footsteps, next thing she knew, the prince was in front of her, hunched forward with both arms together in a different stance.

Sophirea quickly raised her arms in defense as he stepped before her, fists clenched. A rush of pain surged through her as his punch broke through her guard, the force of the impact sending a jarring shockwave through her body. It felt as though she had collided with a solid wall.

A sensation of weightlessness seized her, the strength of his strike lifting her. Before Sophirea could even process anything, she felt her body go stop. She looked down, her eyes widened. Lazarus had grabbed her by the foot and was pulling her back.

"Hyaa!" Silica's scream echoed in the cargo bay. She was rapidly closing in. Sophirea suddenly got jerked back and the Prince shifted his body, pulling her with strength that should’ve been impossible for a non-reinforced individual.

Then she felt the weightlessness again as her body flew towards Silica whose eyes were widened. For a moment everything went black, and she heard a loud banging against the wood.

“Urgh…” Sophirea pushed herself up.

"Isn’t this enough?” The Prince declared, his gaze focused solely on her. Even Silica, who would attack relentlessly, was taking a stance and not going for another offensive.

How was this possible when he was supposedly not reinforced?

Lazarus's martial expertise far surpassed theirs, his techniques unknown and entirely foreign to Sophirea. What were they? How was it that she'd never encountered them before? Shaking off her confusion, she refocused her gaze on the prince who had yet to launch another attack. She steeled herself, adopting a defensive stance.

"So you've honed your hand-to-hand combat skills to the pinnacle," Sophirea mused, attempting to buy some time for Silica and herself to recover their breath. When she glanced at the young prince, she noticed he didn't appear to be winded at all. Impossible. She frowned. "I'm quite impressed. Perhaps you may be a genius at hand-to-hand combat, isn't that a clear sign that you are indeed a Valheart?"

At her statement, Lazarus's expression twisted into a look of absolute disgust. "Valheart? I think you really have the wrong person."

Footsteps echoed from above, an unmistakable sign that their clash had not gone unnoticed. The approaching presence refocused Sophirea's attention, and she noticed Lazarus casting a wary glance at the ceiling. Clearly, he too was aware that their window of opportunity was closing.

"Please, young prince, I beseech you," Sophirea pleaded, "We are here merely to reunite you with your family."

But Lazarus only narrowed his eyes, evidently unmoved. "So you're still insisting on that, huh? That’s rich after suddenly attacking me out of nowhere." he retorted, a note of irritation seeping into his voice. "Looks like I'll have to wrap this up quickly."

Sophirea's skin prickled as Lazarus shifted into yet another stance. His arms were raised, and his left knee was slightly bent forward – a posture that she didn't recognize which nonetheless exuded an undeniable aura of danger compared to his other stances.

"This is your last chance. Let me go, or else," he warned.

The threat made Sophirea sweat. Despite her nerves, she reminded herself that she still had plenty of mana reserves. If she concentrated her efforts on defense rather than offense...

But before she could finalize her strategy, Lazarus let out a sigh. "So that's your answer," he said, an air of resignation in his voice. "Initiate battle mode."

Not only did the young Prince have unrivaled skill, he was also decisive. Her attempts to delay were clearly seen through.

Sophirea and Silica quickly assumed their fighting stances. Silica crouched low to the ground, hissing. But their eyes widened in shock when they saw Lazarus briefly closed his eyes, and flicked them open.

His eyes, previously as gentle as a summer sky, morphed into a startling blood-red, adorned by four stark black lines radiating from his irises. It was a sight that chilled them to the core, as they steeled themselves for the battle that was about to ensue.

“M-myao..” Silica muttered dejectedly like a scared feline.

Even with their coordination, they’ve yet to land a blow to the Prince.

Sophirea gulped audibly.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"-= Initiating battle mode =-" resonated in a deep, robotic voice within Lazarus' mind, giving the world around him a surreal hue. His vision seemed to bathe in a blood-red glow, and a minuscule screen blinked to life in the upper right corner of his sight. It displayed an anthropomorphic figure, seemingly ready for battle.

Before him floated three cards, the prompt "Weapon’s selection" inscribed at the top. His gaze flickered rapidly across the options: 'Electric surge', 'Neural Acceleration', and 'Rail Force'. He squinted at a fourth option, barely discernible in the lower left corner of his vision. The ghostly imprint of a card was grayed out, etched with the words ‘Last Breath Sequence’.

He promptly dismissed that option. Now was not the time for that and he couldn’t access it at will. The Rail Force was tempting, but Lazarus hesitated, unsure of the impact it might have against a mana barrier. It might kill them. With a determined will, he settled into a fighting stance.

Suddenly, electricity erupted in a crackling fury from his arms, a spectacle that widened the eyes of both Sophirea and Silica in sheer astonishment.

"But...how? Were you not devoid of mana..." Sophirea stuttered, her face a picture of disbelief. At Lazarus' preparatory crouch, Silica's body went rigid with anticipation. Lazarus' next move was a blur, a lightning-fast kick-off from the ground, rocketing towards her.

In response, Silica lashed out, her knives slashing the air. But Lazarus remained undaunted. His arms, bathed in hissing, crackling electricity, descended in a ruthless strike.

"Myaaaaaaahh!!!!" Silica’s piercing wail echoed as her knives shattered upon impact. The deafening bang that followed was as though the world itself had been sundered. The powerful recoil catapulted Silica through the air, her body crashing into a nearby wall. Her form convulsed erratically, twitching as if seized by an unseen force, a haunting depiction of a body in stasis.

The electric fury encasing Lazarus's arms was menacing enough, but it was his blood-red, unfeeling eyes that painted a truly sinister picture. Sophirea, a veteran of countless battles, felt a primal urge to flee. It was as though every cell in her body screamed at her to retreat, her ingrained fight-or-flight instincts seizing control.

"Last chance," Lazarus growled, his tone dripping with menace. As he advanced a step, Sophirea unconsciously retreated, a dance of predator and prey. In a swift motion, Lazarus' gaze snapped to the door, his body sinking into a crouch.

Instinct kicked in, and Sophirea recognized his intention to escape. Without hesitation, she propelled herself towards the door, placing her body as a human shield against Lazarus's imminent dash for freedom.

With a scowl darkening his face, Lazarus spat out, “Seems like I’ll have to do this the hard way.”

In response, Sophirea sprang into action. With a swift elegance that belied her dire situation, she began her incantation, “Serus intes arum!” and in a heartbeat, a thin veil of violet light flooded the room. The ethereal film lent an otherworldly aura to the space, its subtle translucency hinting at a powerful barrier.

Sophirea attempted to steady her wavering voice. “W-with this, you shall not escape.”

She swallowed hard, hoping against hope that her risky gambit would pay off.

A squeeze tightened around Lazarus' heart, giving birth to a surge of frustration. His hand clenched involuntarily. The sound of hurried footsteps grew louder, the unseen pursuers edging ever closer. His heartbeat drummed a frantic rhythm in his chest. At this rate, he was gonna get caught, all because he was holding back against Sylphi’s mother.

-'That's it…'-

Reluctantly, he lifted his arms, readying himself. He had to escape, yet, at the very least, he wouldn’t end her life. A fleeting glance was cast towards Silica, who still lay unconscious on the cold wooden floor. His gaze then returned to the final impediment standing between him and freedom – Sylphi’s mother, Sophirea.

Assuming a crouch, Lazarus pushed off from the ground, propelling himself towards Sophirea. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she reflexively raised her arms in defense. Lazarus, however, had other plans. Twisting his torso, he lowered his stance, aiming a strike towards her abdomen.

Just before impact, his eyes narrowed and the frenzied surging electricity enveloping his left arm unexpectedly dimmed. The once violent arc of lightning morphed into a thinner, more controlled stream. As it struck, Sophirea couldn't suppress a wince. She was forcefully thrown back against the door, her mana barrier flickering ominously under the blow.

Quick as a cat, Sophirea regained her balance, retaliating with a swift roundhouse kick aimed at Lazarus. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, arching his back in a graceful evasion that narrowly dodged the attack. In a fluid counter, he returned his own roundhouse, landing the blow on Sophirea who winced at the impact.

Seizing the momentary advantage, Lazarus raised his left arm high, his strike aimed with precision. He timed it to coincide with Sophirea's quick glance back at him, and his fist came crashing down, plowing directly into her chin and the lightning crackling violently as it struck her mana barrier.

Sophirea crumpled to the ground with a resounding thud. Frantically scanning the room, Lazarus found the thin purple veil of her spell still in effect, stubbornly encasing the room. Conjuring his sword, he infused it with his will. The single-edged blade pulsated with an intense blue light, radiating a heat so powerful it seemed to warp the air around it. With a forceful downstroke, he struck at the purple barrier.

The light wavered and flickered wildly, its elasticity causing a temporary dent in the wooden structure before snapping back into place, forcing Lazarus to recoil. He couldn't help but scowl in frustration.

"Damn it!" he swore.

Catching sight of Sophirea struggling to rise, her stance wobbly, he realized he was left with no other option. Swiftly closing the distance, he seized her from behind, his fingers clawing into the fabric of her maid uniform, hoisting her high into the air.

"Release me!" Sophirea barked in desperation. “It won’t be long till–”

Cutting her off, Lazarus intensified the electric charge coursing around his fist. The once subdued sparks flared brightly, sending a wave of electric agony through Sophirea, whose screams pierced the tension-filled room. Abruptly, a blue film of light encased her, thickening before shattering into countless shards like a sheet of glass.

It was a spectacle reminiscent of the time he had shattered a bandit's mana barrier. Evidently, Sophirea had exhausted her mana. Despite her suffering, she continued to glare defiantly at him.

Glancing back at the door, Lazarus noted with sinking heart that the spell remained. No, it was more likely Sophirea had deactivated her mana barrier, conserving energy to maintain the room's enchantment.

"That's it," he muttered, exerting his will to give a silent command. -'Increase the voltage, make it non-lethal, but painful as hell.'-

-= "Affirmative" =-

His arms crackled fiercely with amplified energy. As he tightened his grip on Sophirea’s collar, the electric surge engulfed her entire form, causing her to convulse violently amidst her anguished screams. The footfalls outside were undeniably close now, mere moments away from their location. A surge of adrenaline coursed through Lazarus, his heightened anxiety unconsciously amplifying the electric charge. The room filled with the acrid scent of charred flesh as, at last, the purple light vanished.

With a sigh of relief, Lazarus prepared to bolt, but first took a moment to assess Sophirea's condition. His breath hitched at the sight. Parts of her face were blackened and burnt, her body lying lifelessly unconscious. His heart clenched in response.

The door burst open then, drawing his gaze towards the newcomer—a blue-haired elf maiden whose face registered the chaotic scene with abject horror.