Theodore sat back, watching it all unfold with surgical precision. Every word, every lie, every carefully orchestrated reaction had led to this moment.
(And just like that… the most influential man in the underworld is mine.)
He maintained his facade of innocence, his crimson eyes shimmering with faux warmth. "You should bring your daughter here," he said gently, turning to Cahir. "My butler Belial can heal her instantly, right, Belial?"
Belial, ever the perfect accomplice, put on a somber expression. "Of course, my prince," he said, his tone drenched in false sincerity. "I'll do everything in my power."
Cahir turned, his booming voice carrying through the halls. "Bring my daughter here! Now!"
His mercenaries hesitated—confusion flickering across their faces. How had the situation shifted so quickly? Mere moments ago, Cahir had been at odds with these strangers, yet now, he was ordering them around as if Theodore was an old ally.
But they obeyed.
Theodore hid his smirk. (You're already questioning nothing. Just accepting what I give you, like a good pawn.)
The heavy doors creaked open, and two men entered, carrying Mimi's lifeless body.
Her skin was pale, tinged with a sickly purple hue, her limbs stiff, her face void of all expression. A perfect corpse.
Behind them, Cahir's twin sons followed, both standing rigid with suspicion. They looked like younger versions of their father—tall and broad-shouldered, with light brown hair, but one bore a diagonal birthmark across his nose.
"Father," the marked one—Apsat—spoke first, his eyes sharp with doubt. "Do you really trust these strangers?"
"Yes, father," Arawn added, crossing his arms. "This doesn't feel right."
Their unease was understandable. Any sane man would hesitate to believe in miracles.
But Cahir?
Cahir had already been ensnared in Theodore's illusion.
"SHUT UP, YOU BRATS!" Cahir barked, his voice thick with desperation. He turned back to Theodore, bowing his head slightly. "Forgive them, my prince. They're young and foolish. They don't understand."
Prince?!
The word echoed through the room like a thunderclap.
Apsat and Arawn stiffened. The mercenaries outside froze.
Theodore kept his expression soft and understanding, as if humbling himself before them. "It's alright, Cahir," he said, his voice dripping with warmth. "They're just looking out for you. You raised them well."
Cahir laughed, clapping Theodore's shoulder like an old friend. "You speak as if you're older than me, my prince! Such wisdom for a boy of ten!"
(And just like that… I've become 'family.')
Belial stepped forward, his voice calm yet commanding. "Everyone be silent. I'm about to heal her."
He lifted his arms, and a radiant light exploded from his palms, flooding the entire room.
Cahir staggered back, shielding his eyes. "Damn! Is this truly holy aura?! I never imagined the light could be this… blinding!"
Theodore kept his smile hidden. (Fools. This is no divine miracle… just simple deception.)
"Of course," Theodore said smoothly. "Belial was on the verge of becoming a high-ranking priest before he stepped away from the church. A man of great power."
The awe in Cahir's eyes deepened.
Behind him, Apsat and Arawn still looked skeptical, but they remained silent.
The light dimmed.
The room fell deathly quiet.
Mimi's body remained motionless.
A beat of silence.
Two beats.
Nothing.
Cahir's joy faltered. His hope cracked. "What…?"
Apsat scoffed. "I knew it. This is impossible—"
A gasp.
Everyone froze.
Mimi stirred.
Her chest rose. Her fingers twitched. Then—
Her eyes snapped open.
Theodore saw it all in slow motion.
The flicker of raw disbelief on Cahir's face.
The twins gasping, stepping back as if seeing a ghost.
The mercenaries outside roaring in stunned triumph.
Cahir dropped to his knees. His breath hitched, his hands trembling. His daughter's voice—**hoarse, broken, yet unmistakably alive—**shattered the moment.
"F-Father?"
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed, her body shaking. "I… I was trapped… It was dark… but I heard you… I heard everyone calling me back…"
Apsat and Arawn rushed forward, collapsing beside her.
"Amara!"
"Sister, you're alive!"
The two mercenaries who had carried her body sprinted to the balcony, their voices shaking with excitement as they shouted to the men below.
"THE BOSS'S DAUGHTER HAS AWAKENED!"
The Steel Vanguard erupted in cheers.
Weapons slammed against shields. Boots stamped against the floor. The guild roared with celebration, their voices reaching even the farthest corners of the city.
And in the eye of the storm, Theodore stood still.
Watching. Calculating.
(Perfect. Just perfect.)
He lowered his gaze, pretending to wipe away tears.
"Thank you, Belial," he whispered, just loud enough for Cahir to hear.
Cahir turned to him, eyes red, voice thick with emotion.
"My prince… I owe you everything. From this day forward, my sword… my men… my entire guild belongs to you."
Theodore felt the corners of his lips twitch.
Theodore wiped away his fake tears, his expression shifting into a perfectly orchestrated mix of humility and relief. He turned to Cahir with a soft, grateful smile—the kind that could only come from a young boy overwhelmed with joy. "I'm happy I was able to help… But you've already sworn your loyalty to me. That alone means more than you can imagine."
Lie.
The words tasted almost sweet in his mouth.
Cahir let out a hearty laugh, clapping Theodore's shoulder like an old friend. "You're too humble for a prince! I'll admit, I was fooled by the rumors… I thought you were just some weak and pathetic child, but now, seeing you here… I see you're nothing like what they say. You're noble, strong, and kind."
Theodore lowered his head modestly, hiding the glint of amusement in his eyes. (Fools. It's almost too easy.)
Cahir's twin sons, Apsat and Arawn, exchanged glances before dropping to one knee before Theodore.
"We apologize for doubting you, Your Highness," Apsat said solemnly.
"And we would like to swear our loyalty to you as well," Arawn added.
Theodore raised his hands in gentle protest, his voice laced with sincerity. "Please, you don't have to kneel. From now on, we are family. We stand together. Our priority now… is taking down the Marquis."
A simple line. Yet, it sent a wave of conviction through the mercenaries.
"True!" someone shouted.
"That bastard deserves to die!"
"We'll follow you, Prince Theodore!"
Mimi stepped forward, dropping to one knee as well, her eyes shimmering with false devotion. "I'm happy you finally exposed the true colors of the Queen. I swear my loyalty to you and my family. From this day forward, I will follow you forever."
Theodore sighed, playing the role of a reluctant leader. He reached down and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, as if comforting a dear friend. "You don't have to say it like that, Mimi. I trust you. And I'm just grateful you were able to see through their lies. The most important thing is… you're back."
Lies, lies, and more lies.
And yet, everyone in the room drank them up like wine.
Cahir grinned, clearly pleased. "You truly do care for my daughter, Prince Theodore. I'm relieved. Now that we've formed our alliance, let's celebrate together!"
With booming laughter, Cahir dragged everyone out onto the balcony that overlooked the mercenary hall below. Hundreds of mercenaries had gathered, drinking, cheering, and clashing their weapons together in a riotous celebration.
Cahir stood at the railing, raising his arms. His voice boomed over the crowd, carrying the weight of a warlord rallying his troops.
"LISTEN WELL, MY BROTHERS!"
Silence.
Even the rowdiest of men turned their eyes to their king.
"We are mercenaries! We hold branches in Kiran Continent and across the four great regions! We have fought battles, lost comrades, and given our blood for the highest bidder… But today, I swear upon my name, I will NOT sit back while that snake, the Marquis, takes from us any longer!"
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.
Cahir's eyes flashed with fury. "From today onward, we forge a new path! And we do it alongside Prince Theodore Vermin Dominick!"
Gasps. Whispers.
The name carried weight. The cursed prince. The one they were told never to follow.
And yet—
"The rumors you've heard were LIES!" Cahir roared. "Lies planted by the Marquis to weaken him! To make you doubt! But I have seen the truth—this boy is NOTHING like the monster they claim he is!"
Cheers erupted.
Weapons were raised high, their steel reflecting the torchlight.
"We will march against the Marquis! And we will rip his kingdom apart!"
A thunderous roar of agreement shook the air. The crowd had been won.
Cahir turned back, grinning, and clinked his tankard against Belial's, forcing the butler into a drinking match. The hall exploded into celebration—drinks poured, weapons clashed in mock battles, and voices rang out in joy.
And yet, above it all…
Theodore stood still, watching.
Mimi, beside him, leaned in, her voice a low whisper of amusement.
"My prince… look at him. Drinking and celebrating, not even realizing his real daughter was eaten by me. Not realizing that I am merely a replacement."
Her lips curled into a smirk, eyes glinting with sadistic humor.
Theodore chuckled, tilting his head slightly as he gazed down at the crowd like a king surveying his pawns.
"That's how humans are," he mused. "Cahir is simple. Easy to manipulate. All I had to do was give him hope—the most powerful weapon of all."
His eyes darkened, amusement curling at the edge of his lips.
"Because men like him? They're hypocrites."
Mimi raised an eyebrow.
"He protected his family," Theodore continued, "without a second thought. He never once cared about the families he's destroyed over the years. The fathers he's murdered. The children he's orphaned. And yet, when it's his daughter, he crumbles."
His smirk widened.
"How pathetic."
Mimi let out a low laugh, her hands resting behind her back as she admired his work.
"And yet, he doesn't even realize he's already dead."
Theodore nodded. "He's already served his purpose."
He lifted his goblet, swirling the dark liquid inside.
"And soon, so will the rest of them."