CHAPTER 14 : The Cursed Crown


    Then the sky darkened, an unnatural shift that pulled all eyes upward. King Albert descended with a sweeping gust of wind, scattering the battlefield dust and clearing the view. He floated effortlessly, radiating an aura of calculated authority, with the young prince Marshall by his side. Marshall’s sharp glare fixed on the green-haired intruder, his frustration barely concealed.


    "Who is this man?" Marshall demanded, his tone laced with indignation. "How does someone so strong remain unknown?"


    Albert, calm and deliberate, addressed his son with the weight of wisdom. "Your arrogance blinds you, son. Observe. Learn. This man isn’t merely strong; he’s a declaration of war."


    The green-haired man let out a low chuckle, his smirk sharp and unrelenting. "War? Don’t flatter yourself, old man. We’re just a band of terrorists who despise your kingdom—nothing more, nothing less."


    Albert’s laughter echoed, laced with superiority. "Terrorists? Led by freshly summoned novices and a conveniently anonymous figurehead? You insult my intelligence. Do you take me for a fool?"


    The green-haired man’s grin faltered briefly before snapping back into place, his voice dripping with mockery. "And you, Albert Elthias—the so-called vampire king, blessing hoarder, and fraud. Tell me, how long will you cling to your stolen intellect? Borrowed power doesn’t make you wise, it makes you desperate."


    Marshall bristled visibly at the insult, his fists clenching as his anger boiled over. The taunts struck a nerve, tapping into the shadow of his father’s dominance and his own struggles to prove his worth. Every unspoken doubt, every failed attempt to match Albert’s power, flared within him. "I’ll kill you, you bastard!" he bellowed, surging forward with unrestrained fury, his actions a stark contrast to Albert’s composed demeanor.


    Albert’s hand shot out, gripping his son’s arm mid-swing. "Control yourself, Marshall. Your recklessness is why you lack what I have." He paused, his tone sharp as a blade. "If you stopped acting like a child and embraced your role, you’d surpass me."


    The green-haired man’s smirk widened, sensing a vulnerability. "Ah, yes, the rumors. The little prince’s curse. What was it again?  But I hear you’ve fallen behind your father—not willing to do what it takes, especially with men."


    Marshall growled, his face flushing with rage, but before he could act, Albert raised a hand. With a flick of his fingers, Marshall vanished—teleported away from the battlefield. The king turned back to the intruder, his expression unreadable.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    "Impressive," the green-haired man mused. "Fatherly discipline at its finest. But let’s test the other rumor, shall we?" With a sudden motion, he slashed his palm, flinging droplets of blood toward Albert. The crimson liquid arced through the air before landing on the king’s pristine clothing.


    Albert stood motionless, his face betraying no reaction. "Is that all? You thought a little blood would unsettle me?"


    The green-haired man tilted his head, studying the king. "Oh, no. That was just for fun. But it seems the great Albert Elthias can hold his composure. Interesting."


    Albert’s gaze sharpened, his voice dropping to a chilling tone. "Your tactics betray you. The blessings bolstering you are far too coordinated to be random. Such precision speaks of a guiding hand—someone who thinks they can act from the shadows unnoticed. Tell me, does your benefactor truly believe this charade will go unchallenged?"


    The green-haired man’s smirk widened into a wolfish grin. "Ah, the vampire king shows his teeth. But that’s for me to know, and you to suffer."


    He paused, his gaze sweeping the battlefield, as if calculating his next move. Albert’s eyes narrowed, his posture tightening as he braced for what was to come. The green-haired man smirked, enjoying the moment of tension. Then, with deliberate grace, he raised his hand. "Let’s make this interesting," he said, his tone calm but laced with menace. The air above him seemed to ripple ominously, drawing scattered gasps from the soldiers below before the tension erupted into chaos.


    With a commanding gesture, the green-haired man summoned meteors from the heavens, their fiery descent cascading toward the battlefield in a display of destructive power. Soldiers on the ground shouted warnings, scrambling for cover as panic rippled through their ranks. Albert’s eyes narrowed, his barrier already forming as he watched the devastation unfold with measured precision, his expression betraying no fear. The blazing projectiles turned the scene into chaos, leaving devastation in their wake. "Let’s see how strong your kingdom really is," he sneered, his voice thick with derision.


    Albert raised his hand, summoning a barrier of shimmering light to shield the kingdom. As the meteors struck, their force dissipated against the barrier. Yet, even as the kingdom stood protected, the green-haired man laughed, untouched by the destruction.


    "You see, old man, I’m not here alone. They are supporting me from afar, bolstering my meteors, my shield, and even my escape. And when I leave, it won’t be because you let me go." Albert’s eyes narrowed slightly as he processed the revelation. His mind raced, assessing the coordination behind the enemy’s tactics. "So," he thought, "the hand behind this attack believes themselves untouchable. We shall see about that." He raised his arms as a glowing sigil formed beneath his feet, a teleportation spell activating. "Enjoy cleaning up this mess."


    As he vanished, Albert remained composed, his voice steady. "He’s gone. Resume defensive operations." Once alone, he glanced down at his bloodstained clothing. With a slow, deliberate motion, he removed the tainted fabric and cast it aside, his expression briefly flickering with a mix of irritation and unease, as though the stain carried far more weight than he let on, before returning to its usual calm.