"Gah!" A man grunted as a sword slashed his upper body, killing him swiftly.
"Tch, was that all?" Marcus muttered under his breath, observing all the bodies around him.
"Indeed. It seems that the group responsible for injuring one of our guards consisted of these members only," Belfer remarked as he lunged at the last survivor's chest, piercing it entirely.
The two had tracked down the ones who had ambushed the injured guard and told him to give Marcus the threat of death. There were about 23 men in total, each one cloaked and equipped with a sword.
"I expected more from this lot. It seems that the world is weaker than I thought," Marcus sighed, gesturing his sword to Belfer.
"Still, I doubt that this was the real mastermind behind the message, your highness." Bringing forth a cloth, the butler wiped the blood from the prince's sword.
"Of course. These sheep were mere envoys meant to challenge me. The real threat remains, and I intend on finding out more about it." He scowled before turning to exit the alleyway they were in.
The two pulled the hoods of their cloaks over their heads. They didn't wish to be seen, so it was best to stay as inconspicuous as possible.
"Hmm, I still find one thing unnerving," Belfer bellowed, his eyes narrowing, "is leaving his majesty in the dark regarding this matter really the right choice?"
"Yes. It's best if I deal with this myself. Telling him won't solve anything," Marcus replied, making the butler narrow his eyes.
Or it's just that you want to prove yourself to him...
Despite how certain he was, Belfer chose to remain silent, lest he wanted his head on a spike and his body fed to the dogs.
"Judging by the information I extracted from one of those weaklings we just killed, it seems that the rebels have many different hideouts, and that no one knows where the main hideout is supposed to be," the prince mused, his eyes narrowed.
"They're quite cautious. We must remain diligent as well, your highness," Belfer remarked, his head lowered slightly.
"I know that. No need to state the obvious."
They continued venturing through the streets, looking out for any riots or irregularities. Currently, everything seemed to be going well. People were walking around peacefully, the shops were continuing their business without unrest, and nothing out of the ordinary was going on.
"Strange. Out of all the places, the Knight's District was said to be the most chaotic. Minister Tharon even theorised that the main headquarters of the rebels might be here." Marcus halted his tracks, turning to look around.
"If that is the case, then why is this place so peaceful? Shouldn't it be absolutely ravaged by now?"
He turned to Belfer. "I guess we need to talk to Minister Tharon regarding this matter. Don't you agree?"
"About that..." Belfer pursed his lips, his head lowered. "I just received news from one of the maids using [Thought Discussion]. His majesty just announced that Minister Tharon has been killed by the rebels, and that Tehrun De Voldero shall be taking his place as the new Minister of Social Security."
Marcus's breath hitched, eyes wide. "What the? How? When did this happen?"
"His majesty announced it to the ministers two days ago, your highness."
Marcus frowned. The minister of Social Security, a main contributor to the resistance against the riots, was killed. It didn't sit well with him. The empire's defences seemed to be weakening.
If that was the case, then even Tehrun, the new Social Security Minister, wouldn't be able to deal with the ongoing riots.
"Tehrun... Minister Lynera's younger brother... I doubt he will last long."
"That may be so, your highness, but we must not forget that he is the son of Karun De Voldero. I'm sure he won't be easy to take down."
"Which is exactly why he'll be a target," the prince clicked his tongue as he turned away, "Honestly, I believe Tharon's older brother, Jarmiah, should have been chosen for the next position."
"Hmm, I guess we can only trust His Majesty's decision."
Marcus sighed as he registered Belfer's words. "You're right... let's continue. We need to hunt down the leader of these rebels."
As their journey continued, Marcus felt something collide with his legs, stopping him in his tracks. Turning his gaze downward, he found a child clinging to him.
"Please... help me..."
It was a young boy no older than the age of 10. He had short beige hair, chestnut eyes, and a skinny physique. His clothes were ragged and unkempt, similar to those of a beggar.
Marcus tilted his head at the scene. He hadn't seen anyone with such clothes and a lack of hygiene since the day he visited the Kingdom of Tarvia, finding them to be poor beggars who had nothing to their name except for their miserable existence.
"Kid... I don't recall beggars like you ever existing in Aethelgard. Why do you dress like this?"
His tone was soft, yet the judgment in his words stung the poor boy. Startled, the kid let go of the prince's legs and fell to the ground butt-first. His eyes were wide open, and his lips seemed to tremble.
"I am not sure addressing him like that is a good—"
"Damn you, kid! Where are ya?!" Interrupting Belfer's words, another man strode to the scene.
His physique was bulky as he wore a white vest, brown pants, and grey sandals. His hair was a shade of yellowish-peach, with his dark green eyes holding a wicked glint.
Both the guy and the kid reek of the same stench... are they related, perhaps?
"Oi, kid. Come on, let's go back," the man bellowed, his tone laid back and somewhat harsh.
The child didn't respond, his head low, prompting the man to frown. "Hey, I'm talking to you. Now get on with it! You already caused just enough trouble."
The child refused to comply. The situation was tense. Marcus frowned, noticing that no one was coming to de-escalate or even observe the situation.
Everyone either passed by or was simply indulged in their own tasks. He wondered if this was normal and if this should go on.
"Kid, I won't ask again. Come now, or there will be consequences," the man threatened, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists.
The child had given a response, but it was compliance. Rather, it was simply a shiver that ran through his whole body. Marcus knelt to the boy's level, studying him more intently.
All he saw was fright. The boy's lips and eyes were quivering heavily. Tears and sweat seemed to mingle together, and his breath came out as short gasps.
"Excuse me, kind sir," Marcus bellowed, standing up to face the man. "What consequences will he have to face if he doesn't comply? Will you drag him back to your home whilst he writhes in pain and humiliation? Or will you simply leave him here to die all alone?"
The man finally turned to the prince, raising an eyebrow. "Hah? That's none of your business, jackass! Now step aside and let me do my job."
"Job? Is your job threatening a kid with consequences if he doesn't comply? Is your job stillening a kid with so much fear that he could die simply by thinking about you?"
The man's fists clenched further till his knuckles turned white. "You wanna mess with me, brat? Fine! I'll harshly drag him to the house before punishing his ass so hard, he won't even think about defying me again."
The child shivered violently, his hand rushing to cover his face as he seemed to rock back and forth. The prince's eyes glanced at the other passerby, who showed no reaction.
It didn't matter that they were at the corner of the street. Someone should have noticed this commotion. No way such a violent scene would be left unchecked like this... right?
"Say, kid. Has this happened more than once?" Upon hearing his question, the child nodded hurriedly, confirming his suspicions.
And no one noticed it? How is this even logically possible?
Did everyone care only about themselves and their own affairs instead of others? It didn't make sense to Marcus. This was Dimrath, the capital city of Aethelgard. The citizens here are supposed to be perfect and caring. What is this?
Was he wrong about this nation the entire time?
"You lot are wasting my time. I have a beer to catch. Come on, kid!" As the man stepped towards the child, the poor boy frantically moved to wrap his thin arms around the prince's legs, burying his face in them.
Both Marcus and the bulky man narrowed their eyes at the scene. What was this kid doing? One thought out of curiosity, while the other thought out of fury.
"Oi, you!" he addressed the prince. "Hand my adopted son over to me now, or I will pound up both your asses."
Marcus narrowed his eyes at the man's words. Adopted son? So these two were family?
Moreover, his next words unnerved him further. Pound up? That's a weird wording...
Belfer seemed to share his thought as he stepped forward, his brows furrowed. "Kind sir, what do you exactly mean by 'pounding up—"
"You all know what I meant, and I am not kidding here. I will do it! And I'll make sure none of you will be capable of even walking after that!" He declared, making the kid tremble as his sobs reached Marcus's ears.
"Damn... you really are a disgusting creature..." The prince faced him with an unbridled fury visible on his face.
"It is easy to assume that you have assaulted your son multiple times this way," Marcus remarked as he grabbed the child and handed him to Belfer.
As the boy reached him, the butler then embraced him warmly, wrapping his arms around the tiny, skinny boy. More tears welled up in his eyes before he seemed to break down, sobbing on Belfer's chest as the old butler comforted him.
"Tch! None of you will be safe from my wrath. I'll make sure to leave you dead by the time I am done with you." With that, the man's eyes seemed to glow as he got into a stance.
Marcus raised his eyebrows as he observed the scene. "Interesting. I guess beating you up will surely make my day."
"Haha! You sure talk a lot, but you are no match for me, Magnus Awaran!" He responded, then unleashed a fire blast at the trio.
Yet, as the boy shielded his eyes from the blow, Marcus simply flicked his fingers, nullifying the attack.
"Huh?!" Magnus staggered, surprised by this development. "What the hell?! No way did you just nullify my attack! I am an executive! This shouldn't be possible!!"
"Executive?" There is no such thing as an 'executive' in the Aethelgard political system. And even if there was, he definitely wouldn't be part of it. So what was he talking about?
"Are you part of an organisation, perhaps?" he asked, making Magnus stiffen.
However, instead of answering, he responded by rushing to him and lunging his fist straight at his face. Yet, the punch couldn't land as Marcus side-stepped before unleashing a kick that struck his side, sending him flying and crashing him into the shop nearby.
Well, that was satisfying...
By this point, everyone there was now paying attention to the scene, gasping in shock and stepping away from the prince.
Marcus glanced at them and narrowed his eyes, but before he could say anything, Magnus emerged once more. His shirt was torn, revealing his muscular physique further, and his eyes seemed feral without any form of restraint.
"Raaaahhhh!" He roared, his form immersed in overwhelming Vyr, before rushing at Marcus with everything he had.
"[Devil's Punch]!" As his fist went for its target, it failed to reach it once it was severed from Magnus's arm.
A huge shriek rang throughout the street as Magnus writhed with pain, collapsing and rolling on the ground like a child who was stung by a bee.
"Was that all, Magnus Awaran? I must say, you are a worthless piece of trash."
Before Magnus could even register Marcus's words, he stiffened before his body exploded, pieces and body parts scattering everywhere, but the prince and his butler, thanks to the [Innate Barrier], kept on.
"Ahhhh!"
"What did you do, man?!"
"Why did you have to do that?!"
"Murderer! You should be imprisoned for life!"
"Silence!" Marcus exclaimed, causing all screams from the citizens to suddenly die down as they felt a slight pressure holding their bodies.
His highness surely doesn't restrain himself from using his oathweight whenever he can...
"This man died because of the overwhelming and unstable Vyr in his body that he had charged up to kill me. I merely defended myself."
He then approached them, his eyes scanning each and every one of them. "And now you rise for a man? A repulsive man like him? A man who assaulted his own foster son, who is left traumatised? You rise for such an unjust and filthy existence?"
He gestured to the child clinging to Belfer. "Whenever the man used to drag this poor child after he ran from the house, whenever he threatened and abused the child in the open, where were all of you? Did the citizens of the greatest nation ignore this child's suffering? The suffering of one of their own?"
He turned back to the citizens, his eyes narrowed. "This child has experienced the most atrocious events in his life, and not even a single resident of this nation ever tried to pay the slightest attention to it? Is this what Aethelgard has been reduced to?"
He raised his arms wide, a frown on his face, though hidden by the black cloak he was wearing. "Tell me, is this what our ancestors dreamed of their nation to be? Is this what they sacrificed their lives for?"
He then approached Belfer before taking the boy from his embrace, wrapping his arms around him tightly. "This child represents what our nation's condition currently is. Broken and pitiful. Aethelgard is not meant to be pitiful. Aethelgard is not meant to be broken! Aethelgard is not meant to be so self-sufficient and narrow-minded!"
He tightened his embrace, taking a deep breath. "Aethelgard is supposed to be the greatest nation on Varkana. We cannot allow others to suffer while we ourselves stay fine. Some voices are not heard unless the listener reaches out for them. So start reaching out for the voices that are buried under the roots of oppression and madness. Voices like the one this child owns. Innocent voices who have done nothing wrong."
Finishing his words, he pulled the child away slightly. "What is your name, boy?"
The kid remained stunned, his mouth hung open as for the first time, he saw Marcus's features. His blonde hair that reached his forehead, his emerald-green eyes that held a majestic shine, and a soft smile that seemed warm.
"... Dolfordo..."
"Dolfordo," the prince repeated his name before widening his smile. "Very well, Dolfordo. From now on, you shall be under my care. I shall raise you as the assistant of the heir of Aethelgard. Consider this an honour."