A year had passed.


    Karl’s official declaration of the First Prince Novel as Crown Prince spread like wildfire across the kingdom. The people rejoiced, believing that Novel would bring a bright future to Astria. The princess, Ersia, had also proven her competence in governance, managing the southern regions with skill.


    No one spoke of the Third Prince anymore.


    In the North, time moved differently. The war never truly stopped—small battles erupted like sparks, threatening to ignite into full-blown infernos at any moment.


    For Lucian, it was just another day of survival.


    With the departure of the returning soldiers, the Northern forces had thinned. The Duke reorganized the troops into small patrol groups, each consisting of four men. Their task was to scout the border, check the fences, and ensure the enemy made no advances.


    This time, it was Lucian’s group’s turn to patrol.


    It was a five-day mission, and the first three days passed without incident.


    Then, on the fourth day, disaster struck.


    James, one of the patrol members, lost his footing on the icy mountain ridge.


    The moment felt slow, endless as if time itself had cracked open.


    Then—


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    “AAAHH!”


    His scream echoed through the empty air as he tumbled down the jagged slope. The sickening sound of his body crashing against the rocks sent chills through Lucian’s spine.


    “JAMES!” Kane and Joe sprinted toward him, their boots crunching against the frozen ground.


    Lucian’s heart pounded. He forced himself to move.


    “Carry him here! Hurry!”


    Blood stained the snow as they dragged James onto flat ground. His breathing was shallow, his skin ghostly pale from shock.


    Lucian saw the deep cut across his stomach. Too deep. Too much blood.


    He’s going to die.


    No.


    Not on my watch.


    Lucian’s hands worked automatically. Fast. Precise.


    “Press down here—HARD! Don’t let up!” He grabbed Joe’s trembling hands and pushed them against the wound.


    Joe hesitated. “But he—”


    “DO IT!” Lucian snapped.


    Joe swallowed and pressed harder. James let out a strangled gasp, his body convulsing from the pain.


    Lucian turned to Kane. “Open the medical kit. Now!”


    Kane fumbled through the bag, his fingers stiff from the cold. Then—


    CRASH.


    The pain reliever bottle shattered on the ground.


    A deadly silence followed.


    Kane’s face turned pale. “Oh… shit.”


    Lucian froze.


    No pain reliever.


    James’ body was already shaking—if shock set in, it was over.


    Lucian inhaled sharply, forcing down his fear.


    “Forget it. Bring me the rest of the supplies.”


    He worked quickly, wrapping bandages around James’ stomach, securing them as tightly as he could. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do.


    Lucian wiped bloodied hands against his trousers.


    “We need to get him back to camp. Fast.”


    Kane and Joe lifted James, but the weight slowed them down.


    Then—


    A sound.


    Distant voices.


    Lucian’s entire body went still.


    The three of them ducked behind a boulder and listened.


    Enemy soldiers. Close.


    Their voices were clear now.


    “…As planned, we strike tonight. The moment they’re asleep, we’ll slaughter them all.”