Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

"My younger brother... disappeared?" said Vincent slowly in a gruff tone, a frown etched upon his lips as he crossed his arms. 

Raphael's news had come at the most irritating moment — out of the blue, and where everybody was present. During a dinner meeting he was invited to at the palace to discuss the secrets he discovered, the protagonist had suddenly brought this news out. 

He casually chewed his food and shrugged, swallowing it with a lazy air of calm as he said, "Yeah, that's what I said."

"Don't speak such nonsense. It's probably a farce to have us pay attention to him." seethed Erlen with a scowl.

Raphael wasn't the most affectionate to the bothersome little prince, but he still paused and lightly glanced over. "You're still saying that even after what you saw?"

Erlen turned away, fingers curled into a fist. "Tsk."

It was something that could be understood, but couldn't be understood at the same time. To trust somebody who had wrecked havoc and played around for so many years because of an overnight change? It was simple impossible, especially for somebody like Erlen who was hot-headed and held grudges for a long time.

On the other hand, the King remained silent while Deimos stared at Raphael through his cool mint eyes, his gaze boring into the relaxed protagonist.

"Sir Raphael... you know where he went, don't you?" inquired Deimos with a frown. "It would be best not to keep it from us."

Raphael raised a brow, eating leisurely. "I can't keep something I don't know."

"Atlas has started to show signs of awakening."

Raphael stopped, lifting his gaze. He'd heard of the young prince who had fallen into a long slumber, and knew that it'd take a miracle to wake them. It just so happened that he knew one — an unpredictable, volatile and bothersome miracle. 

Deimos saw the signs of recognition and continued. "I received an anonymous letter and message that was said to be a healing gift for Atlas. As there were little options — even Celine had tried to heal him at the cost of a fight with Vincent — we tried it."

"It worked."

"Did you figure out who sent it?" asked Raphael, lowering his eyes to eat once again.

"I have a guess of which I'm almost certain about. The herbs given are found as the reward of an illegal fighting competition. The winner — do you know who it was, Sir Raphael?"

Raphael grinned lazily. "Yeah, I do. The winner was somebody who shared the same name as me, a coincidence, don't you think?"

At this time, Erlen took a deep breath and looked up, amber eyes laced with a burning reluctance. 

"Soren participated in the competition."

He would not hide something this important — not Soren's strength, or the fact that he was powerful enough to win — for the sake of pride, even as prideful as Erlen was. 

Vincent frowned deeply. "Impossible."

Deimos looked curious. "Our little brother did? How'd he do?"

"...tsk. He fought with me and I lost. It's likely he won the competition."

"Then it must be him!" said Deimos with a joyful smile as his mint eyes glimmered. "We must go search for him, wherever he is."

Erlen pursed his lips but nodded. 

Suddenly, Raphael placed down his utensils and leaned back in his seat, abyssal eyes staring into each and every person in the room. There was something he understood well — Soren had run away from everything, and he did not intend to return.

"Did it cross your mind," said Raphael, his low voice seeming to weigh upon everybodys' ears as they carried unmistakable truth. 

"That Soren Rosenbaum doesn't want to be found?"

 

———xxx———

 

Sitting perched on a rock at a faraway town was a youth, covered in a black robe while wisps of white peeked from under. His icy eyes were intently staring at a page in a book, as if trying to swallow the words whole.

The page in question had a clear map, spread out across two pages.

At the time of leaving, Hazel had given Soren a bag of basic necessities, including the book he had left behind accidentally. She'd also given him a map of clear instructions to the nearest town, not that it had been much help for this directionally challenged prince. For a journey that should've taken two hours, he arrived there in ten.

It consisted of hopping on random cars without permission, and asking several dozen people for directions. 

The first step of freedom.

Soren didn't know what to do, or where to go. The idea of leaving everything was ideal, but there were many complications. He was a stranger in another world possessing an identity that was known and hated by many. In his entire life, he had never felt this sort of freedom.

He hardly remembered his youth, only the memories of the apocalypse remaining vivid in his mind. 

Currently, he was checking the landmarks he should avoid in order not to have an encounter, and the places he should explore early on, before the protagonist arrived.

He lifted his gaze at the bright blue skies, reflecting across his icy orbs. The same skies, but a different world. It was only when one was alone that the thought suddenly became much more vivid.

"Well, I thought it was you, Raphy~"

A relaxed, easygoing voice interrupted his thoughts from behind, carrying a sense of teasing laughter and unrestrained childishness. 

Soren frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Why, going on an adventure of course." laughed Brioc with a bright smile, hands on his hip. "Let's go together, yeah, Raphy?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't like you."

Brioc wasn't fazed, and his smile grew broader. "That's cause you don't know me. All the more reason to journey together."

There was no known method to change a crazy person's mind once they decided on something, and Soren doubted rejecting this blood thirsty magician would do much, other than drag the conversation for longer. Instead, he said, 

"My name is not Raphael."

Brioc tilted his head. "Then, what is it?"

"Ren."

His original name could serve as both a disguise and a nickname, being the latter part of 'Soren'. In this way, he didn't deny himself nor the original. Brioc nodded and said, "Ren, huh? It sounds even better, much easier to say!"

Soren closed the book resolutely and looked at him with tired eyes. "Where are we going?"

"I get to decide?"

"Yes."

Brioc's youthful face washed over in excitement, not realizing that he was just used as a map by the other party. This runaway prince — shouldn't he know the way to everywhere? Soren didn't have a destination in mind, so it was wise to use something that couldn't be rid of anyway. 

"Oh~ exciting. Let's see..." Brioc thought seriously about the options, tapping his chin lightly. "Have you ever heard of the Barren Kingdom?"

Soren shook his head. There was no such place in the story, or on the detailed map he possessed. 

"It's where the necromancers rule — though it's said that the last of them have already died. I've always wanted to find it, that kingdom of death."

"Where is it?"

"No idea!" beamed Brioc as Soren stared at him in disappointment. "Hey, hey, don't look at me like that. The point of an adventure is for everything to be unknown, right? Anyway, I do know where to start looking, okay? I'm reliable!"

Soren blinked, the look of utter disbelief vivid in his eyes. 

"Come on, really? Well, if you aren't interested in that..." Brioc's eyes lit up. "How about a fight? I've been thinking about a rematch ever since our last battle—"

"No."

"Why not? I can tell, you like them as much as I do, right?"

For the same reasons Soren refused to fight Celine, he refused Brioc. There was nothing good to be gained from getting a psychopath's interest, and a fight would only result in the blood death of the other party. Soren wouldn't die by Brioc's hand, but it'd bring upon a lot of trouble.

Trouble that this lazy prince would rather avoid.

"Let's go." Soren stood up, tucking the book away into his bag as he started walking.

"For a fight?" asked Brioc eagerly.

"To the Barren Kingdom."

"Oh~ that works. But the lead I was talking about is the other way." Brioc pointed a slender finger that was decorated in a silver ring at the opposite direction. "Where the selkie's live."

Soren paused, and turned around. "The seal tribe?"

If the fox tribe was known for their intelligence gathering and secretive skills, the seal tribe were said to be able to answer any question a person may possess. In the novel, Raphael had encountered them several times and they helped him in his journey. He'd also discovered the secret to their mysterious power: the ownership of one of the Cursed Tattoo's,  Asmodeus' Truth. A ring that was said to tell only truths, revealing secrets one couldn't fathom imagine. 

"Yeah, do you know them? If it was something of this world, then the fox tribe could provide the information. But for things more uncertain, the seal tribe would be the most reliable."

"Ok, go."

"What?"

"I don't know where it is." said Soren honestly as he stood in his spot, patiently waiting for Brioc. The magician blinked slowly, then laughed.

"Hey, you're bad at directions, aren't you?" ignoring Soren's darkening expression, he continued. " I saw you staring at that map in your book for a long, long time."

".....if you don't go, I'm leaving."

Brioc laughed even more loudly, jumping ahead. 

"Nope, I'm going, I'm going. Don't worry, we all have out flaws, Renren."

Another disgusting nickname entered Soren's ears. Quite honestly, was there any point in a nickname that was twice as long as the original name? Soren didn't think so — nor did he understand the point of any of it. He thought of saying something before remembering; this was Brioc Laurier. The psychopathic blood-thirsty magician.

Also, a member of Raphael's team in the novel, all of which who were either crazy, trouble or both. Soren looked at him with a frown, but said nothing.

If there was something to be missed the most about Damien was how useful he was, and how quiet he typically remained. As Brioc lead the way from carriage to carriage, dragging Soren who knows where, he didn't stop talking for a minute.

"Have you heard, many citizens are converting to the Third Religion and the Empire isn't happy with it."

"You know, I heard some ladies talking the other day..."

"Oh yes Renren, you see..."

There were many things Soren expected after attracting the attention of this magician, and many things he knew about Brioc from the hundreds of pages in the book. However, the fact that he loved gossip, and loved sharing gossip even more, did not cross Soren's mind. If it had, he certainly would've run away from the very beginning, even if a fight occurred.

"The fourth prince is starting to awaken."

Soren stopped, turning his head in the rumbling carriage he'd been tossed on a dozen minutes earlier. The hay underneath was coarse, prickling against his skin as the road was rough and uneven, bouncing the carriage under him. Brioc had somehow persuade the carriage driver to allow them to sit at the back for part of the way.

After gaining Soren's attention, Brioc crossed his legs and leaned forward with interest. "Are you interested in the fourth prince, Renren?"

"No."

"Hmm~ well, I heard it from a guard the other day before we met up. There's been an influx of security, and healers from all over have been called to check in on the prince. He's been brought back from the dead, so they say."

Soren stared ahead at the passing forest blankly. He wasn't stupid enough to believe sending an anonymous note would keep his identity hidden, especially knowing that Erlen had seen him during the fights. However, the idea that a scum like Soren could do such a thing and revive the fourth prince was also unheard of. Until he was far away, too far for anyone to seek him out, they wouldn't go searching.

"If Atlas wakes up, the trouble brewing across the continent will likely be solved." mused Brioc thoughtfully, interest in his tone.

"Trouble?"

"It's impossible for you to have not heard of it. A large influx of missing people, others who went crazy and illegal organizations everywhere. The fighting ring's very existence goes against the rules." Brioc laughed joyfully. "Though we participated in it anyway."

In this sense, it was much like the world Soren knew before the apocalypse. Corruption existed no matter what world it was, and there was no such thing as a trouble-free place. 

Suddenly, an eager smile stretched across the magician's lips, craziness in the edge of his eyes and he fell silent. Similarly, Soren's eyes narrowed as silence filled the air, only the constant rhythm of the turning wheels able to be heard. 

The driver noticed the abnormality and frowned. "Why're you lot silent all of a—"

Ziiiiiiip—

An arrow flew across the air, embedding itself in the wheel as the carriage stumbled forward, twisting and turning with it's lost of balance. The driver yelled, frantically trying to control the horses who were being dragged by the swaying carriage and Brioc's violet eyes flickered back and forth.

"Get ready, Renren. The best part of adventures—" he pulled out two familiar dark blades, rumbling wisps of violent red rippling off the edge, "Bandits."

He lunged. Leaping out of the carriage with practiced ease, his fiery mana twisted around the air, stretching out in various directions as if a predator searching for their prey. His body flipped upside down and he squeezed one eye shut as he flung his knife.

A scream echoed through the air and Brioc grinned, tumbling on the ground. "Oh~! Clean hit!"

A volley of arrows fired at once and large, winding chains whipped into the air, deflecting them all. Brioc turned his gaze to Soren excitedly, staring at the calm, white haired fighter who stood nearby, having leapt out of the carriage at some unknown moment.

"Where's the driver, Renren?"

Soren glanced at the carriage which has crashed against a tree, the sides of the wood splintered while a rumble was left. Thankfully, the horses had twisted around before hitting, resulting in a damaged vehicle, but the driver's safety.

"Wow, you saved them? You're so nice~"

"I didn't." Soren snapped the chains in the air again, eliciting a scream from a nearby tree as a body fell onto the ground. "Hurry up."

"Yes, sir." said Brioc with another light laugh before disappearing in the air, followed by another falling body and one or two low grunts. For the first time, Soren truly saw how crazy this magician really was.

His mana spiraled in the air like a drill, the deep red colour blending with blood as his occasional laughter was heard. There were several dozen wounds on Brioc's body but he didn't care, jumping from tree to tree. Even if one were to hide, the hungry strands of mana would seek out every sign of life.

It wasn't long before Brioc somersaulted through the air, landing in front of Soren, covered in blood. He wiped it off casually, and tucked away the knives.

"They were pretty good this time. Some are just so awful, I really think they should consider changing their career!" complained Brioc childishly, even if his words contained a threatening violence that only he possessed. "Anyway, good timing."

Brioc turned his head at a small path that was hidden at the side, covered in tall plants and overgrown grass. It was subtle, blending in with the rest of the scenery, but once noticed, it was hard to not see it.

"We're here. The selkie's territory."