Knights Apocalyptica - Chapter 196: A Prince Who Slays Monsters

“The Prince looked into her face, and said gently—

“Thy son is well, and hath not lost his wits, good dame. Comfort thee: let me to the palace where he is, and straightway will the King my father restore him to thee.”

“The King thy father! Oh, my child! unsay these words that be freighted with death for thee, and ruin for all that be near to thee. Shake of this gruesome dream. Call back thy poor wandering memory. Look upon me. Am not I thy mother that bore thee, and loveth thee?”

The Prince shook his head and reluctantly said—

“God knoweth I am loth to grieve thy heart; but truly have I never looked upon thy face before.”

– Mark Twain, The Prince qnd The Pauper, (1881, 2nd Era)

There were two things that brought Erec to a jog the moment he heard Colin yelling.

The first was the tone—the anger. It screamed fight. His instincts, honed through their adventures together, were to go and reinforce his friend in battle. No matter who the enemy was, by now, Erec’s body moved on its own accord to get involved.

The second, more logical reasoning, as his brain caught up with his legs, was a realization. Out of everyone in their group, Colin was the person with the least social aptitude. Which said a lot, considering he counted himself among them. Therefore, Colin had the absolute greatest room to cause an accidental massive scandal. His rank was his friend’s only saving grace, which allowed him to get away with such social gaffes. But this wasn’t against some random count or viscount.

Nope, he’d picked a fight with a prince.

Erec ran out of the gambling room, aware his friends were following right behind.

With a burst of speed and careful maneuvering to avoid nobles grouped up in his way, Erec tumbled out of the gambling room on the second floor and into the upper level of Luculentus Manor’s grand hall. It was a spacious interior, filled with people even as the event was nearing the end of the festivities. A large carpeted staircase led from the entryway to the second floor—Erec hit the ornate wooden railing of the second floor and got a perfect view of what was happening below, right near the main staircase.

The gathering crowd of nobles forming a circle around the conflict made it impossible to miss.

Colin stood, fists balled with Alexandra at his side, glaring at Prince Soren.

“Warranted or not, I shall not suffer from hearing another man levy an insult her way. You do not have the station nor the authority to call her an irritating trollop from an inferior family.” Colin almost growled, his voice radiating—either some magic was at play, or Erec’s perception was in overdrive.

“Authority, or station? Might I remind you, Duke Nitidus’s son, what is the difference between a prince and a duchy-spawn?” Soren asked. “If I do not have that level of authority, then whom does? All families are inferior to the royal family. A concept I’d have thought you of all people familiar with, given your history in the court.”

“I am nothing if not a shining example of the duchy—and she is irritating, sure. I’ll concede that point. ButI’ll only accept someone calling her that if it were, I, as the one who said such a thing. Not you. And even less so for this. She was simply asking you for details about the upcoming event. You know, the one the crown declared imminent and hit us all like a blow to the gut. That event? The event that we, the regal and refined nobility of the duchy, deserve more information about since we’ll be playing go-between for the Crown and those beneath us. She deserved an answer to those questions. Yet, that is not the most grievous of your insult. Trollop. Alexandra has no such history.”

Soren stared at him, his expression blank as those dead eyes of his considered Colin. The lack of a response, if anything, only made Colin angrier. His face reddened, his fists going white.

Though, if Colin was looking to start a fight… Erec didn’t exactly get why he was resorting to fists instead of tossing out an unexpected spell—but the pause the prince gave was something Erec couldn’t afford to let slip away. Erec capitalized on the break, cutting through the crowd near the railing to make his way to the staircase and downward, taking two steps at a time. Shoving past the gawking and rumor-mongering nobility that cluttered the stairway as they stared.

Of course, the peace couldn’t last long enough for him to reach his friend.

“You are aware of her personal history, correct? House Doctus doesn’t hold to traditional values and has had two previous broken engagements. I admit that perhaps I used the word to get her to back away for a moment and earn myself a moment to breathe without sufficient justification. But it was a leveled response, given she wouldn’t break her campaign of harassment for information. My brother did make you all aware that not all of the information of the upcoming event is meant to be available to the public—“

“I’ve had enough of your words; your ego has grown far too large! You are no better than us, and it is time to bring a stark reminder of that fact, tyrant!” Colin spat and then rushed the prince.

Just like that, in a public gathering with a vast crowd of witnesses, the heir to House Nitidus threw a fist at a prince; a storm went through Erec’s heart as he gasped along with the rest of the crowd, nearly slipping and falling down the rest of the staircase he was running down to try to prevent this very thing from happening.

Colin’s curled fist slammed right into Soren—until it didn’t. In an instant, Soren was next to Colin, his fist whipped out and hammering into Colin’s side, sending him flying with more force than Erec had last seen the boy capable of—an activation of his Divine Talent, one which Erec had his own previous trouble handling. Colin stumbled back with a curse as the wind was knocked from his lungs, his head whipping around to look at the prince.

“A waste of energy. As you are now, your loss is inevitable. Repent and ask forgiveness, and I’ll grant it for daring to rise against your betters,” Soren said.

“Go fuck yourself with that crown on your head, dipshit; no one hits my Colly!” Alexandra shouted as she crashed into Soren from behind, tackling the prince and bringing him to the ground.

Only, as she hit the ground, Soren wasn’t there. He was next to where he’d been, lashing out with a foot and smashing it into the heir to the duchy of Doctus’ side, sending the girl rolling away with a pained grunt as she took the blow full force.

And, just like that, somehow, the situation went from bad to worse. Now, two heirs to the four duchies of the Kingdom had risen against the crown in a public display.

Soren looked between them as they collected themselves, his face still blank.

“One last chance. Renounce your intent to come to blows, and I shall forgive you with my royal authority. Continue, and consequences will be greater than those already inevitable from this shameful display.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“I demand a verbal apology to my betrothed,” Colin growled.

“I’m not taking an apology; some insults must be repaid with bruises,” Alexandra rebutted.

“Let’s calm down,” Enide said, twisting into the air between the prince and the two other nobles who were about to devolve this into an even greater conflict—she spun around, her eyes wide as she’d realized that her action had thrown her front and center on a grand stage of nobility—whispers asking who she was, harsh insults that an outsider dared to enter into the conflict of the highest of the nobility, and people commending someone interrupting the fight ran through the crowd. Enide coughed, catching herself, and looked at the two who’d already taken blows. “Way I see it, this isn’t the place for fighting. And that guy just gave you a chance to hash this out in a way that isn’t going get you all screwed up with your families.”

“I’m going to strike him as I see fit for such a bold and arrogant act. His station does not allow him to insult his lessors due to the mere fact he was born a prince!” Colin shouted.

Enide turned at him and gawked. “Are you, of all people, really dying on that hill?”

“Of course I am! This is a disgrace to the name of the royal family—“

Erec finally reached the ground floor, ran up to Colin, and slammed a hand over his friend’s mouth, stopping him from devolving into insults and pushing this further. But he only had two hands—and as strong as he was, and sure he was that he’d stopped Colin in his tracks or ensured that his friend would have to fight him first before targeting the prince, he was only one man.

Alexandra Doctus wasn’t about to let the fight drop.

She rushed towards the Prince, who swayed slightly. Her form duplicated, and there were two versions of her sprinting forward as she activated her talent. The speed of both was tremendous, although, to Erec’s eyes now, slower than he remembered. Then again, the last time he’d seen this quantum-entanglement-esque ability in action had been right before the expedition to Vega. Even then, he’d wondered how it’d fare against Soren, whose’ ability wasn’t all that dissimilar.

But he didn’t get to see that fight. Alexandra didn’t make it to Soren.

Enide appeared. Her leg snapped out, and she tripped one of the two versions of Alexandra running towards the prince. The blurred form fell on its face, skidding forward, then vanished, snapping into the other, still-running copy.

Then, in a twist of space, Enide was once more there and threw a kick right at Alexandra’s midsection, rebounding the girl and sending her spilling back onto the ground on her ass.

Colin struggled in Erec’s grip, trying to break free to help his betrothed. In response, Erec tightened his hold, letting out a deep breath as he tried to stamp down the spark of Fury in him. Colin didn’t have anywhere near enough physical power to bring out that tool, and this situation would only ignite if he were to add more fuel to these flames.

Enide looked down at Alexandra.

“Now, I’m not on this guy’s side—if what he said was what he said, then fuck’em.” Enide’s words drew angry shouts from the crowd of nobles… “But we need to take a step back. And calm down. This isn’t your battlefield to fight on. Not yet.”

Alexandra didn’t respond to Enide; her eyes scanned the space around the girl, clearly looking for a way to break through and resume her assault on the prince. Erec didn’t know her well but knew that if she failed to find a way past Enide, she’d try to go through Enide. Better to end this now that they’d taken control of this back into their hands.

“Prince Soren,” Erec called, flexing as he kept Colin from breaking free to shoot a bolt of electricity at the ruling class.

“Sir Erec.” Soren acknowledged.

“Did you insult her?” he had to ask, even knowing the answer.

“I did confirm that accusation.”

“Why?”

At this, the prince was silent, only tilted his head.

“If you won’t explain why, then would you offer an apology? With such a move, I am sure these two will be willing to profess their own. We can walk away from this, not happy, but better off.”

“I will do no such thing.”

Erec felt another spark of fire run through him. And at this, he couldn’t help it. His grip tightened on Colin, and he felt the ember catch, a bit of him burn away with annoyance. Soren wasn’t like this, as far as he’d known the prince. They weren’t particularly close, but he’d trained with the boy. Like it or not, Soren was the type of person who did nothing without deliberate intention. So his intention here was to piss off Colin and Alexandra.

This, in turn, pissed Erec off. What was he thinking? The Kingdom could ill stand such a public display right after the heels of the announcement tonight. This would only sew further division at a time when they needed all the resources they could to deal with the mounting threat that would be the Church.

“If you will not apologize, then I can scarcely request my friends apologize for their actions.”

“If that is how you wish this to go, Sir Erec. Then so be it.”

You’re trying to get under my skin too?

“Though I have heard stories of you, Erec. Of your opportunisms on the field and during the expedition. Though we are equal in rank as Knights, and I am your better in rank and previously won against you, I must admit, I’m curious. Do I still win in a direct conflict with one such as you? A man who has embraced the monster to defeat monsters? I should think so, yet it is within my nature to wonder.”

“Are you trying to fight me?” Erec said, fire fanning stronger. Enide shot him a raised eyebrow, splitting her focus from Alexandra. She was undoubtedly wondering if they were about to turn on the crown and join their allies in their battle. A rebellion spawned in the depths of the Kingdom and was more than likely to end up with them all thrown in a dungeon to rot if allowed.

“Yes. But not here. Your partner there—Enide, I believe her name was, from the reports—has made an interesting proposition and pointed out things appropriately. If we are to do such a battle to satisfy my curiosity, it should be done on the proper field. For now, I won’t retract my intent to punish House Doctus and House Nitidus. Considering their heirs’ refusal to submit to the crown and utter their apologies, it would be foolish to. However, I’ll suspend my judgment pending the tournament results. While I doubt they’ll be able to accomplish this goal, I want to encourage growth. If either is able to best me in the tournament, then they shall both be forgiven. If they are to fail, they and their houses will receive justice. Simple. Clean.” Prince Soren was playing to the crowd now, no longer even focused on the two who’d he’d just lain the proverbial gauntlet down before.

A dim part of Erec was aware that they were still on a social stage. This was one of the types of social games he was trying to learn—and hopelessly out of his depth already. Not knowing what role, if any, he was supposed to play. Or what could he say to turn this around? But that part was outweighed by the anger running through him. The hot magma in his veins wanted to let go of Colin so he could be the next one who got to throw a punch at this smug prick.

“I doubt you’ll make it to them,” Erec said, “You’ll lose to me.”

“Will I Sir Erec? Please. My life has been dedicated towards eliminating monsters; if you’ve given up humanity to slay them and become one among them, then I’m assured in my victory,” At this, Soren stared directly at him.

For the first time, ever, maybe. Erec could have sworn he’d seen a smile on the prince’s lips.

“By the decree of the crown, all are to return to their business. This matter is not settled but shall be set aside for tonight. May we see if redemption for these two can be found on a more suitable battlefield,” Soren said, his emotionless tone waving over the crowd as he dismissed them all.

Not that it stopped the nobles from breaking apart to discuss what just happened—but Soren turned and walked to the exit of the manor, leaving them all to deal with the fallout.

Erec let go of Colin.

“Pompous jackass, he was born with a golden spoon hanging from his mouth and struggled for naut; blood does not set him above us, and it is past time he is reminded of that,” Colin muttered darkly, staring daggers at the princes back.

“…Hey, you realize that you’ve done several times worse than that, right? And that’s just what I’ve seen.” Enide asked, scratching the back of her head.

“Nonsense,” Colin replied. “I am nothing if not polite to those beneath me.”

“Sure,” Enide replied before they swiftly tried to extract themselves from the spotlight with as much grace as they could manage.

Even as Garin and Olivia rushed in and smoothed their way out of the manor, Erec kept thinking. Back to that slight smile on the prince’s face. That surety of his victory. Colin wasn’t the only one who wanted to put him in his place—after all, what had Soren had to struggle for to get what he had? What gave him the right to challenge Erec, who was doing his best to help this Kingdom? There were better things than focusing on this. He knew it. But a part of him couldn’t help it.

He’d been challenged. And that needed an answer.