CHAPTER FOUR

  A Desperate Struggle

  “It’s no use gring at me, o’ Herald of Bloody Murders,” whispered a weary Bram who gazed up at a sky bathed in harsh scarlet hues. “If I’m to die tonight, I’ll do so while knowing I did all I could…to ge my fate.”

  Only the red moon was visible of the twin moons that usually lit up the night. It was full and glowing fiercely like a great crimson eye gring down at the ground with a gaze full of judgment and promise…blood would be spilled tonight.

  Most others who saw this portent of misfortune wouldn’t dare leave their homes. Whether oner or hey would lock their doors and hide behind the safety of their walls for fear that death would e calling for them—but not him. Not for Atn’s seventh prince who dared to scale the jagged mountain without sorcery to aid his climb. For him, the ‘Bloody Moon’ was a wele boon whose gaze lit the path up the mountais crimson light showing every outcropping of rock to g to so he might stave off death a while longer.

  “I’ll not surrender now…” Sweat dripped down his brow while his arm stretched toward the handhold. “I must prove—”

  An arrow pierced into Bram’s left shoulder. It must’ve been ented for its tip was like a hot poker that scorched his flesh while digging into the meat underh. Searing pain nced up his baearly f him to let go of the outcropping of rock he g to.

  “Fuck!” Again, he found fort in bellowing this alien curse aloud because it reminded him of wild possibilities. The kind only a cursed being like himself might achieve. “Fuck~~k!”

  Despite the arrow digging deeper into Bram’s shoulder, a stubborn desire to live instilled in him the will to pull himself up to the top of the cliff that he’d scaled with a body stretched to its limits. This was a great feat of strength that was also why he’d been mocked his entire life. Because in a nd where one’s magical talents mattered above even one’s lineage, what use was a strong man with no skill for even the most basic spells that would’ve made his climb much easier?

  “Renfri would’ve…gottehere faster…” he mehrough gritted teeth.

  Although, as he thought about how he’d been chased throughout his climb up the jagged slopes, Bram was gd he chose to leave the hart behind along with the lute that was so dear to him.

  Bram heaved himself over the edge and then crawled onto the safety of the ledge. Only then did he pull the arrow out of his shoulder. He didn’t cry out this time. He simply gritted his teeth and allowed the pain to wash over him. His breathing was ragged, and his back was coated in blood and sweat, but he was alive…for now.

  “Ha-ha-ha-ha…” Laughing like a madman, Bram rolled over to gaze at the sky. “Here I am… I’ve arrived!”

  The night sky ainted with a sea of glittering stars, each twinkling thtly as if to suggest that all the gods of Aarde were watg this prince’s struggle py out.

  “Just you wait… I’ll succeed,” he whispered to the heavens.

  Pain wracked his body, but Bram ig. His breath remained ragged, but he ighis toency drove him to rise from the rocky ground. And, knowing his pursuers were ing, he turned away from the ledge and began limping toward the cave he’d climbed a mountain to reach.

  It was barely ten yards away, a bck hole whose edges revealed the tell-tale signs of aryway hewn from rock corroded by time. Yet the warning carved over its entrance remained readable to those who dared look upon it.

  HOPE DIES HERE WHERE ONLY FOOLS DARE TO TREAD

  “This isn’t enough…to turn me away.” Bram grinned with bloodstaieeth. “If it’s a choice between embrag the darkness or dying a fool’s death…then I’ll gdly sell my soul for this opportunity.”

  Bram was so close to the entrahat he could almost taste salvation oip of his tongue. Hope fluttered inside his chest…only to be crushed by the billowing wind that pressed against his back.

  “Phoebus’ cock…”

  He couldn’t help looking over his shoulder and seeing the fhostly figures who nded on the ledge behind him as if they’d floated down from the sky.

  Only four…

  “You seem to be…missing some people,” he teased.

  Bram couldn’t help feeling a little smug because his efforts to thwart the two he met in Laire had born fruit. Most likely, the two missing ghost riders had upset stomachs even now. The medie Ser Anthony packed for him to use against the fel beasts of Sundermount was that potent.

  “Well, you’ve chased me long enough… Don’t you think it’s time you showed your faces,” Bram challenged.

  They obliged.

  With a snapping of their fingers, the pale fog that g to their forms fell off them, revealing a truth Bram had already guessed at. Their hoods were wide ao keep their faces veiled, but the pristine white armor they wore underh their cloaks was unmistakable. These were knights of the White Rose, an order of assassins who faithfully served the imperial family. His family.

  Bram ughed out loud as his guess proved true and realization dawned on him.

  One of the other royals wanted him dead, although he had too many siblings for him to determine which of them saned his murder. Only, if the White Rose had beeo take him off the board, then the Imperium’s game of succession was finally beginning in ear.

  I thought they’d at least wait until the juring Season began…but it turns out one of my siblings is eager to be rid of me.

  “I appud your tenacity, Prince Bram,” said the lead knight whose voice was coarse and rough. “You’ve made us chase you for seven days with barely a, and you’ve even mao lessen our numbers in that time.”

  It didn’t surprise Bram that they reized him easily. The climb up the mountain had been rough. Indeed, he’d lost his fake nose a while ago—along with most of his things too—and he didn’t have time to reapply his disguise. All that remained was his purple hair, but that obviously wasn’t enough to hide him from these assassins.

  “Surely, it’s a worthy aplishment for our ill-fated prince,” agreed the knight standing behind the lead. Hers was a feminine voice. One filled with spite for Bram.

  “Your monstrous stamina’s the only good thing about you,” scoffed the burly warrior standing to the left of the lead knight.

  “He’s got more than strength going for him.” Suggested the smallest knight who sounded much youhahers. “Even without sorcery, he had wits enough to evade our pursuit for so long… What a waste of a talented mind.”

  Bram listeo their btant disrespect with a furrowed brow.

  “I have a question if you’ll indulge me.” He took a casual step back. “You said I did a good job evading your pursuit… So, how did you track me here?”

  The lead knight raised the gold locket tied to the white around his neck.

  Reition filled the prince’s face.

  “I assume that marker has my blood in it?” Bram guessed.

  “Yes,” the lead knight answered.

  Fug magic, was what Bram wao say aloud. Instead, he opted for, “You didn’t have that when you tracked me to the woods. You would have fouherwise.”

  This was firmation that someone in Lotharin had helped the White Rose. For how else could they have acquired his blood without his knowing?

  “What now?” Bram asked.

  “I’m sure you’ve wits enough to uand the meaning of our presence here,” the lead knight answered.

  “I hear the knights of the White Rose are all murderous lunatics.” Bram fshed them with a wry grin. “So, yes, I know why you’re here… One of my siblings doesn’t have the balls to dirty their own hands.”

  “Why should they bother?” the female knight scoffed. “You are beh them — the ill-fated prince of House Attin.”

  “Well, you’re a harsh one.” Bram sighed exaggeratedly, pretending to be only slightly ahough deep down his anger boiled. “But you know, I did everything they wanted. Even sullied myself in worldly pleasures that would make you blush to hear.”

  He wi her for even now he chose to py the fool if it would make them uimate him more.

  “I’ve stayed away from the court, because, gods, was that pce b,” he said, sighing again.

  Despite everything he’d doo prepare i, it was still true that the talentless boy who was humiliated repeatedly by all the Sn’s retainers grew up a recluse who hid from his mother’s court, ensuring he would have no friends or allies to call upon when he hem most.

  “I didn’t ask for the responsibility py shoulders.” Bram shrugged. Then added, “If I could, I’d gdly give it back.”

  “Unfortunately, the choice is not yours to make, Ill-Fated Prihe female knight tered.

  He couldn’t see her face from behind her deep hood, but Bram was certain she gazed at him with equal venom as the poison spilling from her spiteful tongue.

  “Killing an inpetent governor like you would be a blessing for Lotharin,” she shamelessly tinued, “and remove the stain that has pgued the royal family for seventeen long years…”

  Bram cast her an offended look. “Again, harsh.”

  He slid his left foot back, hoping that the White Rose, in their arrogance, wouldn’t notice.

  “But you’re right, I am inpetent.” Bram took aep back, bringing him closer to the cursed cave. “Obviously, I pose no threat to my siblings for I’ve made it clear time and time again that I wish not to participate in their game.”

  This was an obvious lie, at least to Bram. He wouldn’t have risked climbing the jagged mountain if he’d already given up. It wasn’t an ambition for the Burnt Throhat goaded him onward though. Bram’s desire was to prove his worth. It was a desire now stained in anger ament, and though he kept these emotions mostly in check, he knew a bit of his rage was needed now.

  “But, why…” His right hand moved to the sword hilt strapped to his waist. “…Why have I been marked for death?!”

  The knights flinched involuntarily as they felt Bram’s rage roll over them.

  Being the perfect likeo his mother was the reason for their hesitation. They saw the Sn’s fad her fury in his expression. This illusion sted only a moment, however, and as Bram drew his sword, so too did the four knights draw their ons against him.

  Bloody hell, I’m still too far from the entrance. I won’t be able to avoid a fight… I’ll have to surprise them, stall them, do anything I …

  The lead knight let out a heavy sigh. “If only you had the slightest bit of magic flowing in your veins…then you might have bee a worthy didate for the Burnt Throne and not the embarrassment you’ve bee.”

  “If g talent was all one o deserve death”—Bram pointed his sword at the lead knight, its bde quivering as he held it aloft—“then you fools deserve the death that’s ing for you.”

  In respoo Bram’s challehe lead knight o his smallest panion, signaling the beginning of the battle.

  The small knight yelled in glee just as the telltale golden sparks of sorcery spread out of the soles of his boots. A gust of wind exploded underh him, propelling him forward at great speed, bringing him close enough to brandish his swainst Bram, who, to everyone’s surprise, mao parry the enemy’s attack with a steady sword.

  “W-What!?” the small knight cried.

  His shock was uandable. He didn’t know the secret that only Ser Anthony was aware of.

  In his years’ long seclusion, Atn’s seventh prince hadn’t been idle. A agic had made Bram sider other options besides his bardic talents. It’s why he trained his body in all manners of martial studies and honed his muscles to such extremes as t forth a strength that would be his tool against sorcery.

  Bram’s sword pushed against his enemy’s bde, leading it downward to open the way for a riposte aimed at the small knight’s throat.

  ‘Tang!’

  Sparks flew as the sword cshed against the glowing aura that grew over the small knight’s white armor. The sight of it caused Bram to grimace for he remembered now that this shimmering veil spreading across the armor’s white surface was a ‘Barrier’ entment that would be hard to pee with a bde not empowered with sorcery.

  “Again!” he roared.

  ‘Crack!’

  Though the barrier cracked from the force of Bram’s bde impag against it a sed time, its magic repelled the prince’s attad forced his sword from his grasp.

  “Did you think you could win?”

  The small knight ughed while his hand stretched forward to tighten its fingers around the prince’s neck.

  “See, I don’t need muscles like yours.” As the telltale sparks of sorcery escaped his fingers, the small knight lifted the prince off his feet with a strength that couldn’t have beloo such a slight form. “I simply cast a spell to overwhelm yrish strength with eveer power.”

  Bram’s feet kicked in the air while his eightened his fingers around his ned began choking the life out of him.

  “This is how you die. Uo do a thing while I deprive you of breath,” the small knight taunted.

  “You”—Unwilling to surrender, Bram’s hand moved to his back, his fingers grasping at something he kept hidden there—“should…have…”

  “Still struggling?” the small knight frowned. “It’s quite unseemly, Ill-Fated—”

  “Watch out, Ser Jasper!” the lead knight roared, but his warning came too te.

  ‘Crack!’

  It took only a moment for their fates to be reversed.

  While Ser Jasper arrogantly assumed Bram could do nothing more, the prince surprised him by plunging the ented arrow that had hurt his shoulder during the climb into his enemy’s throat.

  Ser Jasper’s eyes widened in surprise. “H-How…?”

  Bram fell to his khankful that he’d had the fht to keep that arrow for a crucial moment because the sorcery that had made its charred tip searing hot proved effective against his enemy’s weakened barrier. In the same breath, the small knight staggered back, his fingers grasping at the shaft stuck to his neck.

  “You shouldn’t have e…so close to me,” Bram managed a tauweehs.

  The fight was far from over, however. Ser Jasper was a sorcerer, and a wound that would’ve been fatal for Bram wasn’t so deadly for one who possessed the gift of magic.

  Bram g the others. He noticed they hadn’t moved to help their panion, proving what he already kheir pride wouldn’t allow them to interfere in what they deemed a meaningless duel. This duel wasn’t meanihough. Not for the prince who g desperately to his advantage.

  With Ser Jasper distracted by the arrow plugging the hole in his throat, Bram rose to his feet and smmed his fist into the small knight’s neck.

  Ser Jasper croaked a garbled respo Bram struck him again with a haymaker to his chest to keep him off-bance.

  “Gah!” the small knight screamed.

  Despite being pushed back, Ser Jasper reached for Bram with a hand burning with are fire. It would’ve melted the prince’s face if he hadn’t ducked down at the st sed.

  Then, with his feet bent low, Bram pounced on Ser Jasper.

  The priackled Ser Jasper’s smaller figure, getting behind him to thick arms around his waist, and then lifting him high with his ogrish strength to flip Ser Jasper over, sending him smming headfirst onto the ground with a ‘Lotharian Suplex’ Bram had learned from a wrestling instructor who’d trained him secretly many, many moons ago.

  Ser Jasper’s head and back cracked hard against the ground, leaving him groggy long enough for Bram to mount him and then pull the ented arrow from his bleeding throat.

  The wound tore open, spraying the prih a knight’s blood.

  Bram hoped that the blood loss would render Ser Jasper unscious, but the small knight g to life as desperately as the prince did.

  “Y-You!”

  Bram was lifted off Ser Jasper as if carried upward by an ill wind.

  Sorcery raised him high, and sorcery sent him plummeting bato the ground. In a dose of his own medie, Bram’s spine cracked against the earth, and it was all he could do not to lose sciousness.

  Half in a daze, he felt himself lifted once more, and with his vision clearing, discovered a bloody face staring back at him with pure hatred.

  “I-I’ll kill you!”

  Ser Jasper aler now, his eyes gzed, with blood gushing out of his wouhroat.

  “I’ll t-turn y-you i!”

  His hand was raised, its glowing fingers stretg toward Bram, though not toug him. Not yet. Not ever.

  In his recklessness, the prince grabbed the wrist of that glowing hand, and, dragging the small knight forward, Bram sent his head crag against Ser Jasper’s face like a hammer against a nail.

  Ser Jasper staggered back, his spell withering into nothingness.

  Freed from the small knight’s magical hold, Bram rushed forward and used his momentum to kick out at Ser Jasper. The prince’s foot struck the ter of the small knight’s chest, and with strength springing from his lower body, sent Ser Jasper flying back, and, uedly, over the cliff to meet his doom.

  GRATULATIONS! You have sin a knight apprentice [Jasper von Galen], earning you the achievement [First Kill]! This title doubles [Critical Hit ce] and [Critical Attack Damage] for thirty seds when activated.I…I killed him. In his mind, Bram realized what he had done—his first time taking a life—and he barely managed not to throw up.

  He had no time to let guilt overwhelm him though.

  “To die so pitifully…what a fool,” the burly warrior chuckled. Then, with a grin, he roared, “My turn to duel our monstrous prince!”

  Bram wasn’t paying him any attention though. He was too distracted by the otherworldly messages floating in the space between him and the now-charging knight.

  ALERT! Your body is unsuited to receiving the system’s boons. Activation of [First Kill] is celed.Mhostly blue windoeared, causing a breathless Bram to grin.

  I knew you would show up.

  All his life, this otherworldly power had been nothing but a nuisaonight, however, it would prove useful for the first time. It would serve as an excellent distra to aid his escape.

  “Share notifications!” Bram roared.

  As he uttered the magic words—the only one he could cast and very retly learoo—the ghostly blue windows became visible to the burly warrior’s eyes, causing him to mistake them for a surprise attack Bram had jured.

  “Warbringer’s balls!” the burly warrior cursed. “You do know sorcery?!”

  Thanks to his fusion, the burly warrior’s swi wild. He missed Bram pletely while his sword sliced through the floating blue windows which didn’t disappear from his attack.

  “You fool!” the lead knight yelled. “How could you miss him?!”

  “N-No!” Embarrassedly, the burly warrior protested, “Prince Bram has summoned some sort of devilish specters against me that ot be hurt by simple steel!”

  “What are you on about, oaf?” the female knight pined. “There’s not — he’s getting away!”

  With his enemies suffitly distracted, Bram threw himself over the threshold of the cave.

  “Stop him!” the lead knight anded.

  Once again, his warning came too te. For the prince had already plunged into the darkness of the cursed cave even the most unrivaled champions of the imperium feared to tread. He could only hope its legend of taining great evil would keep the White Rose away long enough for him to ge his fate.

  GD_Cruz