Night falls. The imperfect moonlight dimly illuminates the rocky hillside forest. Though it lights up the night, the moon’s glow cannot chase away the cold carried by the wind, so a campfire still needs to be lit to keep the body warm.

  With a small flick of his hand, Cedric ignites the firewood. It’s a task as easy as breathing for him. Then, standing near the freshly lit campfire, he places his hands on his hips with an arrogant expression.

  “Truly pathetic, those who don’t have the fire element. They actually need an external heat source just to survive a cold night like this.”

  “Are you reciting poetry?” Liam, who is facing the other side of the forest, finally speaks.

  “Just meaningless rambling. Please enjoy your campfire, My Lord. I can sleep anywhere with this body blessed by a warm aura.”

  It really does sound like pointless rambling — Liam isn’t interested in responding at all.

  “If not for wiping out that assassin group all the way to their lair, we would’ve reached the border town days ago. Their leader even built his main base way too far from any settlement.”

  Because of that, they are now stuck spending the night in the forest.

  “Look on the bright side,” Cedric replies casually. “Tonight I can finally sleep soundly without having to watch over a prisoner.”

  For the past few nights, Cedric had been forced to stay alert, making sure the assassin they had captured didn’t escape.

  Cedric approaches a large boulder with a fairly wide surface.

  “I feel sorry for a nobleman who has to sleep outdoors for the first time. For me, this is everyday life.”

  The young man starts sprawling on top of the rock. Even though the surface is uneven, Cedric seems completely used to it.

  Liam’s voice responds. “Doesn’t your back hurt sleeping like that?”

  Cedric answers while trying to find a comfortable sleeping position on the rock.

  “Do you have any other options? Feel it for yourself. Don’t expect me to prepare a nice, comfortable bed for you.”

  “I wouldn’t trouble my subordinate for something like that,” Liam replies, still sitting casually.

  Cedric glances over at him—then his eyes widen in shock. Liam is sitting on an elegant, long, luxurious sofa, complete with an armrest designed to serve as a headrest if one wanted to lie down.

  “W–where did you even get that?!”

  To Cedric, it’s an impossibly bizarre sight.

  Liam raises the small silver box he always keeps in his pocket.

  “Obviously, from my dimensional bag.”

  “Dimensional bag??”

  “Have you been living in a cave all this time? Dimensional bags are already a common item. Most middle-class citizens can afford one. You can store plenty of things inside as long as it’s within the bag’s capacity and within your own stamina to carry it.”

  From Cedric’s expression, it’s clear this is the first time he’s ever heard of something called a dimensional bag.

  “You should’ve used your first salary to buy one when we were in the city.”

  “Why do you enjoy making me live in regret?!”

  .

  The night wind blows, carrying a sense of calm through the forest. There are no signs of human activity — only the alternating calls of night birds and other forest creatures.

  For a moment, Liam’s gaze lingers on the flickering campfire before him. Meanwhile, Cedric sits cross-legged on the boulder, reminding himself to buy a dimensional bag once they finally reach the next town.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Cedric, where’s the severed hand from earlier?”

  Liam’s request snaps Cedric out of his thoughts. From the pouch he brought from the assassins’ hideout, Cedric takes out the severed hand of the assassin leader Liam killed. The two of them handle the piece of a human body as casually as if it were an everyday object.

  Liam studies the magical symbol carved into the severed hand of the assassin leader. Cedric watches what his master is doing.

  “If you just want to remember the shape of the symbol, why not draw it? You didn’t have to bring the whole hand with you, you know?”

  “This symbol holds a message within it — a secret pact made under the moonlight.”

  Liam raises the severed hand so the symbol faces the moonlight in the night sky. Instantly, the magical mark glows, projecting several lines of luminous text into the air. Cedric is amazed and quickly stands, stepping closer to read it as well.

  “There’s writing?? What does it say?”

  “I, Theofan Greig Vissarion, will grant a reward of 100 million wien to anyone who brings me the head of William Alroy Vissarion.”

  Liam remains silent and expressionless after reading the magical writing. Meanwhile, Cedric’s face instantly tenses.

  “Liam? You… William Alroy Vissarion, the prince of Argoust??”

  Liam responds with the same flat expression. “Why? You look like don’t believe it.”

  “No one would believe a prince wanders around alone like you. A king’s son is supposed to go everywhere with soldiers and servants, right?”

  “Yeah, keep rambling.”

  Cedric still finds it hard to believe that the person he’s been traveling with all this time is a prince of Argoust, not just an ordinary noble. But the confusion on his face is caused even more by the magical text still hanging in the air.

  “Theofan Greig Vissarion… isn’t he your brother? The crown prince of Argoust.”

  “We’re just strangers who happened to be born from the same mother.”

  “That’s literally what brothers are! Why does he want to kill you? Whoa, look—your head is worth a fortune.”

  “You interested in that much money?”

  Liam’s cold tone instantly shrinks Cedric’s courage.

  “O–of course my life is worth more.”

  “A wise decision.”

  Liam pulls the severed hand away from the moonlight, and the message vanishes from the air.

  “It could be used as evidence, right? You could just show it to the King of Argoust and the crown prince would be in big trouble.”

  “Unfortunately, no. As the blood on this hand dries, the magic symbol will disappear as well. By the time it reaches the King, it will be nothing more than a lump of rotten meat.”

  Liam tosses the severed hand into the campfire, as if it’s no longer of any use to him.

  “Besides, this isn’t the first time Theofan has tried to kill me. At least now I know he’s still after me. That means he has spies following me.”

  Without Liam or Cedric noticing, a mysterious figure was indeed hiding among the dark, dense branches of the trees, quietly observing their every move.

  Even knowing he was still the target of an assassination, Liam could still smile with ease, showing not the slightest trace of worry.

  Cedric still couldn’t wrap his head around the conflict between Liam and his eldest brother.

  “Why would the crown prince go after you? You’re not even a threat to the throne—that obviously belongs to him, doesn’t it? And besides, there’s still the second prince.”

  “He’s afraid of me.”

  This time, Liam answers Cedric’s question with a thin smile—one that reveals the prince’s dangerous side.

  “As long as I’m alive, every night he’ll go to bed knowing I could show up at any moment to cut his throat in his sleep.”

  Cedric shudders.

  “Even the crown prince is scared of him?”

  Liam began recounting a memory.

  “I was seventeen at the time, attending a council meeting at the palace for the first time. Theofan was there too, giving his opinions on the ministers’ plans. But all I heard from him was the same nonsense repeated over and over. He delivered his shallow thoughts with full confidence, because as the crown prince, he believed no one would dare criticize him.”

  “But he forgot to account for my presence in that room.

  I refuted every one of his arguments and showed the council just how shallow the knowledge was of the man who was supposed to become the next king of Argoust.”

  “I still remember Theofan’s furious face as he swallowed his humiliation. The ministers were quietly laughing at him.”

  Liam smiled at the memory of those days, though the expression slowly shifted into one shadowed by sorrow.

  “But… three days after that meeting, the person closest to me in the palace—my teacher—was found dead, a gunshot wound to the head.”

  Cedric flinches at Liam’s story.

  “The investigation claimed my teacher committed suicide. But I knew him better than anyone—there’s no way he’d ever do that. I’m certain Theofan was involved in his death. But my mother, Her Majesty the Queen, forbade me from digging any deeper.”

  “My mother advises me to study at Verlyn Academy to avoid further conflict with Theofan. The night before I leave for the academy, I make time to visit Theofan while he’s fast asleep in his room.”

  “I stab my knife into the pillow right beside his neck and tell him that if he ever lays a hand on anyone I care about again, the next thing the knife pierces will be his throat. Theofan is so terrified he actually wets himself that night.”

  “It seems that after that night, he was never able to sleep peacefully again. My threat worked—he stopped bothering the people I knew, but instead he started sending assassins to kill me. My journey to Verlyn Academy was drenched in blood.”

  A seventeen-year-old Liam walks through the corpses of the assassins he has slain—a memory that will never fade from his mind.