Elric stepped out of the carriage, his imposing figure casting a long shadow under the midday sun. His sharp amber eyes swept over the soldiers, who stood in clusters, their chatter a grating hum that cut through the stillness of the open field. With a single furious glare, his voice thundered.
"Shut up, or I'll break your bones!"
The soldiers snapped to attention, their chatter evaporating into the silence. Backs straightened, eyes fixed ahead, and even the laziest among them tried to look competent under the lion's intense gaze. Elric's ears flicked as he surveyed them. He was more than Kairen's personal guard; he carried an unspoken authority that ranked him equal to any captain, even if not formally recognized.
One soldier, emboldened by either courage or stupidity, stepped forward. He placed his right hand over his chest in a respectful gesture but didn't quite meet Elric's eyes. "Master Elric," he began cautiously, "we're already a day late for the subjugation because of the pri—uh, the accident. How about we just go ahead and complete the task?"
Elric's gaze snapped to him like a predator sizing up prey. "That's not for you to decide, is it?" he growled, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the air. "You're just a bunch of newly recruited soldiers. I won't blame you for your ignorance, but hear this: underestimate your enemy, and you'll be dead before you realize your mistake."
Another soldier, bolder than the first, stepped forward with a confident smirk. His light brown hair caught the sunlight, and his posture radiated entitlement. "But Master Elric," he said, his tone edging on condescension, "it's just a bunch of bandits. I've seen their kind back when I was younger. They're disorganized, weak, and predictable. Most don't wield mana, and maybe one or two of them do. There are thirty of us here, and we've all trained under the guidance of Master Kaelor." He puffed out his chest as he continued. "Do you not believe in us?"
Elric's piercing gaze locked onto the soldier, his expression unreadable. He approached slowly, his towering form dwarfing the young man. "What's your name, soldier?" he asked, his tone calm but laced with menace.
"Rowan," the soldier replied, his voice steady but his body betraying a flicker of unease. "Second son of Duke Valeris."
The mention of the duke's name made Elric pause for a fraction of a second. Ah, a noble's brat looking to make his mark. Elric wasn't impressed. It wasn't the first time someone from a prestigious family tried to test his authority, and it wouldn't be the last.
Elric stepped closer, placing a heavy hand on Rowan's shoulder. His claws just barely pressed against the leather armor, enough to make the soldier tense. "Let me make something very clear, soldier," Elric said, leaning in until their faces were inches apart. His voice was quiet now, but it carried a weight that made Rowan's knees tremble. "Your duty is to follow and protect the prince. Nothing more. Nothing less."
He pressed down on Rowan's shoulder, forcing the young man to bow slightly under the pressure. "Do not overstep. This is your first and only warning."
Rowan swallowed hard, his earlier bravado crumbling under Elric's gaze. "Y-yes, Master Elric," he stammered.
"Good," Elric said, releasing him and stepping back. "Now get back in line."
Rowan quickly retreated to the ranks, his confidence shattered. The other soldiers exchanged uneasy glances but dared not speak. Elric's gaze swept over them one last time before he turned toward the carriage. His broad shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh as he shook his head.
I really hope you're overthinking this, my prince.
The carriage and soldiers moved in disciplined unison under Elric's sharp watch, their earlier chatter replaced by the rhythmic clinking of armor and the steady crunch of boots against the dirt path. The warm afternoon air carried a deceptive calm, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves.
Suddenly, a sharp crash shattered the quiet—the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. The soldiers froze mid-step, their heads snapping toward the source of the noise. Elric's ears flattened, his instincts screaming danger. His voice boomed over the silence, "On guard!"
Before the soldiers could react, the carriage door was flung open with a deafening bang. From within emerged a muscular man, his wild, unkempt hair framing a face twisted with manic glee.
In one hand, he gripped a dagger that shimmered faintly in the light, and in the other, he held the prince by the neck, his arm pressing tightly against Kairen's throat.
"Your prince has been captured!" the man sneered, his deep, gravelly voice carrying over the clearing. He pressed the blade closer to Kairen's neck, a faint red line appearing where the steel grazed his skin. "One move, and he dies! Drop your weapons, now!"
The soldiers hesitated, their grips on their swords faltering as their eyes darted nervously between the prince and the intruder. The tension in the air was suffocating, broken only by the bandit's low, mocking laughter.
"You're all surrounded," the man continued, his smirk widening. From the shadows of the surrounding trees, figures began to emerge—bandits armed with crude weapons and malicious grins. Their steps were slow and deliberate, their movements like a tightening noose.
Elric stepped forward, his amber eyes blazing with fury. His sword glinted as he drew it in a smooth, deliberate motion. "Get your filthy hands off the prince," he growled, his voice steady despite the chaos around him.
The bandit leader laughed, a sharp, mocking sound. "Do you think you're in a position to make demands, beastman?" He tightened his grip around Kairen's neck for emphasis. "One move, and I'll spill his blood right here. Now drop your weapons, or none of you leave here alive!"
For a moment, the clearing fell silent, the tension so thick it was almost palpable. The bandits grinned, their confidence bolstered by their leader's control of the situation.
Then, something shifted.
The bandit's smirk faltered as his fingers pressed harder into the prince's neck—not into flesh, but into something soft. His eyes widened as he felt the odd, yielding texture beneath his grip. Slowly, his gaze dropped to the figure in his arm.
Plush.
The bandit's grip slackened, and with it came a cascade of silky long hair slipping from his hand. The prince's form seemed to collapse, falling apart in pieces as the uniform unraveled. What remained was a pillow—plump and crudely stitched, with arms and legs fashioned from bundled hay and cloth tied together with rough twine.
"What… the…" the bandit stammered, his voice caught somewhere between rage and disbelief. His fingers twitched as he stared at the decoy, its fabric crumpling at his feet.
For a brief, surreal moment, the bandits and soldiers alike stood frozen, their confusion mirrored in wide, disbelieving eyes.
Then, Elric's roar shattered the silence. "Attack!"
The soldiers surged forward with a unified cry, their blades glinting as they charged. The bandits scrambled to react, their earlier confidence now wavering. Elric moved like a blur, his sword flashing through the air as he targeted the leader.
The bandit snarled, throwing the decoy aside. With a swift motion, he raised his dagger and flung it toward a nearby tree. Before anyone could process the movement, he vanished, reappearing at the dagger's destination in an instant.
Elric barely registered the faint shimmer of the dagger as the bandit leader vanished, reappearing at a distant tree. Before the lion could fully process the strange skill, a calm yet familiar voice spoke from behind him.
"It's his dagger… follow him."
Elric's ears twitched, and he turned slightly to see a soldier with a helmet obscuring their face. It didn't take him long to recognize the commanding tone, one he'd grown all too familiar with. His prince, hidden in plain sight, had already calculated their next move.
Elric allowed himself the briefest smile of approval. You've truly outdone yourself, my prince, he thought as he nodded in acknowledgment, his grip on his sword tightening. The faint hum of mana began to course through the blade, igniting it with a blue, flame-like aura that flickered menacingly.
As the bandit zipped from tree to tree, his wild laughter echoed through the dense forest. The dagger flashed with each throw, anchoring him to a new spot in a blur of movement. He was fast—absurdly fast—but no matter how far he teleported, Elric pursued him relentlessly.
The beastman's speed was uncanny, his powerful legs propelling him through the forest as if the terrain posed no challenge at all. The bandit's confidence began to waver as he glanced back, expecting to see his pursuers far behind. Instead, his blood ran cold. Elric was gaining on him, his amber eyes glowing with predatory focus, his blade emanating an aura that seemed to hum with restrained power.
Panic crept into the bandit leader's movements. His teleportation became erratic, the once-calculated arcs of his dagger now haphazard as he aimed further and further away. Sweat dripped down his brow as he hurled the blade with all his strength toward a distant tree, desperate to put more distance between himself and his pursuer.
But Elric had no intention of letting him escape. The lion's muscles coiled as he skidded to a stop, his sword raised high. The blue mana surrounding the blade surged, its fiery glow intensifying as he brought it down with a roar.
"Sword Aura!"