The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne

Nolan walked down the stairs with quiet steps. The air was silent, dark, and damp.

The stench of blood pierced his nose, mingling with the foul odor of carrion. The slippery steps could have made anyone fall if they weren't careful.

Fortunately, he could see in the dark, so it posed no problem for him.

After a while, he reached the bottom. What awaited him was a detention room—neither cramped nor spacious.

There were ten cells in total, five on the right and five on the left. Inside the right-side cells lay piles of bones, clear evidence that their occupants had been dead for a long time.

Meanwhile, in the left-side cells, four or five decomposing corpses lay scattered. Looking closely, half their bodies had rotted away, the rest being devoured by vulture worms.

"How disgusting and cruel," Nolan muttered with a frown.

Even with his strong mind, the sight still horrified him.

From their positions, it was obvious the prisoners had been tortured severely by Rovert—especially the five corpses still in the process of decaying.

They had no pants, their genitals left exposed. The wounds on their crotches and private parts revealed the worst of what they had suffered—something no man in this world would ever want to endure.

Turning his eyes away from the revolting sight, Nolan walked forward through the rows of cells.

At the end of the room, he spotted two doors—one directly ahead and another to the right. The door in front of him creaked open, revealing a special cell filled with chains and various torture devices.

Nolan used his Eyes of Chaos to check, but the room was empty.

Don't tell me the demon Rovert mentioned once lived here? He wondered silently.

It was the only explanation that made sense. Taking a deep breath, he turned toward the other metal door, still closed.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward and pushed it open. Fortunately, it wasn't locked.

At once, a horrifying sight spread before him—a room filled with corpses and bones.

"This is..." Nolan froze, uncertain how to react.

The room was spacious, with a towering pile of human bones at the far end. Some corpses were still intact, while others had been crushed in half.

To the right stood a desk stacked with documents and scattered magic tools—clearly used for torture.

"Don't tell me this is where Rovert carried out his experiments?" His breath caught.

Heart pounding, Nolan stepped inside. The pungent stench of blood struck him immediately.

He quickly cast a spell, and the foul odor vanished at once.

Moving past the pile of bones, he stopped abruptly when he noticed a body—or rather, something that could no longer be called a corpse.

The man was still alive, even as his body rotted from head to toe.

"Argh... Argh... It hurts..." A faint groan escaped from his mangled lips.

Both eyes were gone, leaving only two black hollows that exposed the damaged inside of his head.

Nolan gritted his teeth, struggling to contain the rage boiling within him.

"What a brute," he cursed inwardly.

He was not a soft-hearted man. Nolan never hesitated to kill enemies who threatened his family. But there was a line he would never cross.

He would never harm the innocent—much less torture them.

That was why, even when he destroyed the capital of the Holy Empire of Valtanir, he still shielded innocent lives from harm. To him, great power came with great responsibility.

If he slaughtered the innocent without thought, how would he be any different from demons or savages like the black mages?

Nolan was about to heal the man, but he stopped himself. The torture this man endured was unbearably cruel, utterly unforgivable.

Even if healed, he would never live in peace. The scars on his body might fade, but the psychological wounds would remain. Rather than happiness, his life would only bring more suffering.

Letting out a low sigh, Nolan clenched his right hand. In an instant, the man's breath ceased, and he passed away peacefully.

But then, a soft whisper brushed against Nolan's right ear.

"Thank you, kind one..."

Nolan froze for a moment, then allowed a faint smile to form on his lips.

"Kind one, huh? That's a nickname I've never heard before..."

Shaking off the thought, he walked over to the desk on the right and stared at the stack of documents.

Carefully, he picked up five and began reading.

His expression shifted—first shock, then anger, before settling back into indifference.

"Experiments turning humans into demons, huh? No wonder..." Nolan exhaled deeply as he closed the documents.

The notes detailed Rovert's inhumane experiments on humans, all with the goal of turning them into demons.

The process was cruel and gruesome. He forced strange potions into the victims' bodies, but every attempt ended in failure.

Dozens—no, hundreds—of men had been dragged into this place to be used as test subjects.

Worse still, many were treated as playthings before being thrown into experiments. It was the vilest cruelty Nolan had ever encountered.

"Even so..." A cold grin spread across his face. "With this evidence, the Castellan family will fall. And the Red Obsidian Trading House will be dragged down with them by the palace..."

...

"Argh!"

Ten soldiers from the Valmire family's ranks were thrown back by the demon's attack. Their armor shattered, exposing deep claw wounds that cut into their abdomens and chests.

Fortunately, the injuries weren't fatal. Otherwise, they would have died on the spot.

"Attack!" The other fifty soldiers charged forward, swinging their swords at the demon.

At the same time, the mages quickly cast spells to suppress him.

Slash!

Dozens of blades tore through the demon's body, leaving him badly wounded. Both of his hands were severed—even his head was cut off.

Thick black blood gushed like a fountain, splattering in all directions.

But then, something strange happened. His severed head, arms, and legs reattached themselves.

The soldiers were stunned. Unfortunately, they had no time to process what they had just witnessed.

The demon pressed his palms together. In an instant, sharp thorns burst from his body, skewering fifty soldiers at once.

Scrk!

They were hurled into the air, stomachs ripped open. Blood poured from their wounds, sending the remaining soldiers into panic.

"Mages, heal the wounded! Don't let them die!" Aston barked out orders.

Yet suddenly, the pain from the demon's earlier kick flared up again, forcing a groan from his lips.

"I can't fall!" he urged himself.

But then—

Whoosh!

The demon shot forward at lightning speed, appearing right in front of him. His right hand had morphed into a blade sharp enough to cut through steel.

Aston's body froze, unable to move.

Am I going to die?

Before the thought could settle, the blade was already almost at his neck. Just centimeters away, a cold voice rang out from above.

"You lowly demon! How dare you cause trouble!?"