Saquin: Death To My Enemies

Saquin stood upright as the wind whipped his hair back, his stance steady on the back of a hypnotized gryphon soaring through the clouds. Lira sat just behind him, clutching the gryphon's body, her voice grumbling over the rush of the wind. "Cats aren't meant to be this high," she muttered, casting a wary glance at the dizzying heights.

He cast her a sidelong glance, mildly amused. After all, she was the one who had insisted on this. "You wanted me to make an entrance fitting for a region ruler."

Her ears flattened as she grumbled, clutching tighter. "Didn't think that meant taking flight."

He ignored her as he said to mythic,

It just isn't right.

[ What? ]

That the prince of such a small kingdom is a higher human.

[ Wait, I thought all royalty were higher humans. ]

Of course not, that only applies to the big three kingdoms.

[ Three not five? ]

Yep, according to history, the Northern and Western kingdom had fallen due to internal war.

[ Fishy. ]

I said the same thing.

[ Can you explain the present power dynamic in the conti- I mean world right now. ]

Don't bother changing tone, any learned person in the world right now knows there are multiple other continent out there.

[ I see. I wasn't trying to hide the fact, it is just that explaining to someone with a different view is hard, and can result to multiple reactions. ]

Yea, I guess you are right. The power dynamic of the continent is quite simple and complicated depending on how you look at it. The three kingdoms have the majority of power in the continent and each of these kingdom have more than enough military power to take down all of the other kingdoms and empires military might combined.

[ That is... Strong. ]

It is. Each of the kingdom is ruled by level 9s after all, with multiple level 8s and more than enough level 7s. While the empires of the continent are ruled by level 8s and kingdoms ruled by level 7s.

[ The power gap is much. Not just between them and the other kingdoms but them and their past heritage too. ]

Hmm, how strong were they then?

[ They were at the level of the small kingdom then. ]

That's great improvement.

[ Yes, so what do you mean the small kingdoms royalty are not meant to be higher human? ]

Let me ask you this, how many higher human per generation did you have at your time?

[ Like five per each. Why ask? ]

We have about twenty five per each.

[ Oh, so there is no way small kingdoms would have higher humans as royalty and the number would be that small. But still, how sure are you that this kingdom isn't an exception? ]

Because there is no kingdom with higher human royalty, only empires do. To prevent unnecessary wars and conflict, the big kingdoms made sure of it.

[ So, you are going there because of this or because of the piece of cloth with the symbol on it? ]

Both. One of the guys that night had the same symbol on his cloth.

[ So, you think he would be at the kingdom? ]

Nah, I killed him already—his body was stabbed into a pole. My memories are still foggy, but barely five people got away that night.

[ Ruthless. ]

I see it as failure.

[ So you are following the trail to get to the brain behind the attack, right? ]

Yep.

---

Meanwhile, in the throne room of Igroth Kingdom's royal palace...

The throne room gleamed with grandeur, dominated by a massive, jewel-studded throne at its center, flanked by two smaller yet equally ornate chairs for the queen and crown prince. Rows of seats lined the hall, one side for members of the royal family, the other for council members and the kingdom's most powerful nobles.

King Zen, an elderly man with a piercing gaze, sat on the throne, observing the assembly with a watchful eye. As a level 7 advanced human, he'd ruled Igroth for over five centuries. Though his kind were nearly immortal, strange afflictions had recently aged him, something no advanced human should experience. The mystery had led to speculation, and ten years prior, plans were set in motion to name a successor.

Out of five sons, the competition for crown prince had seemed a foregone conclusion—the eldest had been the clear favorite until six years ago, when the previously overlooked third son rose to prominence. His feats and sudden strength captivated the people, sparking an intense rivalry with his elder brother.

The assembly waited in tense silence, anticipating the return of the third prince, who had declared boldly the previous day that he would bring his father the head of Nenir, the legendary werewolf who had terrorized the kingdom for years. Today, the royal court and council gathered to see if the prince would fulfill his audacious promise.

Suddenly, the throne room doors burst open with a thunderous boom, and three figures strode in, their silhouettes dark against the blinding light beyond.

At the forefront stood a red-haired man with a commanding presence, flanked by two others—a figure with a mane of purple hair and, to his right, Princess Relia.

"We request an audience with King Zen," the red-haired man declared, his voice reverberating through the hall like a sharp crack.

Stunned by the audacity of the intrusion, a guard near the door barked, "By whose authority do you barge in here?"

Thud.

The guard's body crumpled to the floor, a small, perfectly round hole punched through his forehead. The room fell into a shocked silence, every eye riveted on the crimson-haired stranger, who hadn't moved a muscle.

"By my authority," he said, his tone unwavering. "I am Prince Jonathan Hunt, crown prince of the Southern Kingdom."

Gasps erupted among the nobles.

"The crown prince!"

"He's here in person?"

"No wonder!"

King Zen raised his hand, and the murmurs quieted. Fixing his gaze on Jonathan, he said, "My Lord, what has brought you here?"

"Drop the act, old man. You know why I'm here." Prince Jonathan's tone was flat, his eyes scanning the room before settling back on King Zen. "Tell them all to leave. This matter doesn't concern them."

King Zen hesitated, studying the prince's expression, then nodded. He waved a hand, and the royal court and council members filed out, leaving only the prince, his companions, and the king in the grand, empty hall.

Once alone, King Zen spoke, his voice conciliatory. "My Lord, I do not know what grievance brings you to my humble kingdom, but if we have somehow offended you or the Southern Kingdom, I am willing to make amends."

"Spare me your speeches, old man," Jonathan interrupted, his tone cutting. "The palace is surrounded. You're coming with us to the Southern Kingdom on charges of treason to the cont—"

Boom!

A massive silhouette burst through the wall beside the throne, accompanied by a bone-rattling crash.

Bang!

Without hesitation, Prince Jonathan fired an SP bullet, powerful enough to kill a normal level 7 in one shot. But to his shock, the bullet deflected off the tail of a lithe figure perched on the massive intruder.

Bang!

"What—!" Jonathan's eyes widened as he saw the werecat standing on the beast's back. A mere werecat deflected my bullet?

"You!" Jonathan was snapped from his shock by the sound of his sister's surprised voice.

Saquin turned, a mocking smile playing at his lips. "Oh, you recognize me?" His voice was low, taunting, as he met Relia's stunned gaze. He stood on the throne, his left foot pressing into King Zen's thigh, his right planted firmly on the king's shoulder. His index claw hovered inches from Zen's skull, ready to strike.

"Now that I see you clearly, yes, I do," Relia replied, her voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and anger. "But how?"

Saquin's smile widened, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "XP," he replied with a casual shrug, his tone light, as if explaining the simplest of things.