Father, I Won’t Do Anything

“Rosian, why are you here!”

Elia exclaimed with uncharacteristic alarm, for she had taken measures to prevent his entry.

If Elia perished, Rosian, as the next imperial heir, couldn’t risk his presence here – the imperial lineage itself would be jeopardized.

“When have I ever been the obedient son you wished for, Mother?”

With a wry smile, Rosian nimbly sidestepped and joined Elia, engaging the demonic beasts alongside her.

“Kiiiiik!”

With Rosian’s reinforcement, the enemy forces swarming the western ramparts seemed momentarily repelled.

However, with a breach already established, their trio’s combined efforts could only forestall the inevitable for so long.

‘As long as the temple priests can utilize divine blessings for healing, merely prolonging this confrontation only favors the enemy.’

Even Hilvenzia’s restorative concoctions paled in comparison to the temples’ dozens of healing paladins.

“Rosian? Rosian!”

Disregarding Elia’s protests, Rosian charged headlong into the demonic beast onslaught beyond the walls – an utterly disadvantageous situation, surrounded on all sides with no aid forthcoming.

Infusing his blade with mana, Rosian unleashed a powerful sweeping arc.

Baaaaaaang!

A path cleared before him as if scoured by a tempest. Before the demonic beasts could regroup, he swiftly advanced further into the enemy ranks, their density intensifying with each step.

‘I can’t falter. Eliminate the targets swiftly, then withdraw.’

Attacks rained down from every direction – a barrage even the martial arts tournament’s champion struggled to evade entirely.

Baaaaang!

Serpentine demonic beasts sheathed in impenetrable scales, others bearing razor-sharp fangs.

One by one, formidable mid-tier beasts that could never be underestimated.

And every single one now singularly fixated upon Rosian as their prey.

Baang!

Though wielding his blade relentlessly without reprieve, even a prodigy like Rosian had his limits.

“Ugh.”

A demonic beast’s paw raked across Rosian’s chest, shredding his attire and splattering crimson upon the earth with each step.

Yet Rosian didn’t falter, for the slightest hesitation could enable his targets to flee.

Minimizing defensive maneuvers, he pressed onward with utmost haste.

After advancing a considerable distance, Rosian’s sought objective finally emerged into view – the command tent housing the High Priest and support personnel.

“Be cautious, you can’t attack His Highness the Crown Prince!”

Shoooosh!

Arrows imbued with divine blessings streaked forth, yet avoided directly targeting Rosian.

Perceiving their intent, Rosian’s eyes glinted with realization.

For the first time, he appreciated the privileges of his birth – they could aid in protecting Jaina.

“Wh-What is His Highness doing here…?”

The High Priest’s words faltered, his voice trembling.

With steely eyes yet a faint smirk, Rosian retorted candidly:

“Why, to slay you, of course.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Rosian lunged forward, his blade whirling in a blur of motion.

Bang!

Babang!

His sword clashed repeatedly against the paladins guarding the High Priest in rapid succession.

Though the exchange seemed intense, Rosian was slowly yet surely being overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

‘To think the Crown Prince, once a mere novice years ago, could attain such formidable skill!’

While renowned as the martial arts champion, they had initially dismissed it as mere luck – but Rosian’s swordsmanship proved masterful, wielding his blade with consummate ease.

Initially cautious due to Rosian’s status, the paladins soon realized dire necessity as the tide gradually turned against them – any restraint could prove fatal.

Baang!

Bang!

Time became immaterial as the clashes persisted.

“Ughh!”

With each deflected strike, Rosian sustained fresh wounds.

Focused solely on his vitals by the numerically superior paladins, he couldn’t fully parry every assault.

‘Yes, no matter the Crown Prince’s prowess, he is still merely human. His endurance has limits. We need only press our advantage!’

Indeed, Rosian’s blade progressively lost its edge, the minuscule lapses discernible to his adversaries.

Exchanging fleeting glances, the paladins redoubled their ferocious onslaught.

In that moment, Rosian’s gaze briefly turned towards the tent housing the High Priest.

“The Crown Prince attempts to flee! Block his escape route!”

The paladins assumed Rosian sought to exploit an opening, intending to retreat towards the High Priest’s location.

And their conjecture proved accurate.

Emboldened by their perceived advantage, their voices rose confidently.

“Priests, deploy divine wards to impede the Crown Prince’s advance!”

Shoooong!

An opaque barrier manifested before the charging Rosian.

“Your Highness, surrender now while you can!”

With the divine barrier obstructing his path and paladins closing in from behind, none present doubted Rosian’s imminent capture.

Yet–

“My apologies, but it seems you have fallen into a trap of your own making.”

“What…?!”

Rosian charged directly towards the divine barrier erected by the priests’ divine power.

Colliding with such a fortification unaided could have rent his flesh asunder, yet he displayed no hesitation whatsoever.

And then…

Swish.

Rosian passed through the barrier unimpeded, promptly incapacitating the priests before turning to address his would-be captors.

“Impossible…!”

“Divine blessings hold no sway over the imperial bloodline, you see.”

An imperial heirloom glinted at Rosian’s waist.

‘Had Jaina not retrieved this for me, repelling the paladins and priests would be far more difficult.’

The heirloom Rosian had just employed, passed down through successive emperors, granted temporary invulnerability to divine blessings.

The very heirloom that pickpocket had attempted to steal during Rosian’s initial encounter with Jaina had finally served its purpose.

Having bypassed the barrier, Rosian unhesitatingly infiltrated the High Priest’s tent before swiftly decapitating him with a single strike.

“Kukuhk!”

An unceremonious, almost trivial end.

Without divine power, the High Priest proved as frail as any ordinary human.

Emerging from the tent, clutching the High Priest’s severed head like a grisly shield, Rosian’s ruthless display sowed visible disquiet among the surrounding paladins and officials.

“This man was a ‘false High Priest’ who sought personal gain by invoking God’s name!”

Despite being encompassed by enemies on all sides, Rosian remained composed.

“And this ‘false High Priest’ attempted to slay me. What implications does that hold, if not an intent to eventually defy the Empire itself?”

Rosian rolled up his sleeves, exposing the wounds sustained while battling the demonic beasts and paladins – deep lacerations still oozing fresh blood.

“Th-That was…”

“Do you truly wish to oppose the Empire? To provoke the imperial army’s intervention?”

The paladins and priests surrounding Rosian paled visibly.

“However, considering your actions stemmed from heeding this impostor ‘false High Priest’ – a mere puppet of the dragons – I may be willing to overlook today’s transgressions if you withdraw immediately.”

Rosian’s implication wasn’t lost upon them.

Abandon the man who had merely usurped the High Priest’s role for a fleeting few days, or directly confront the Empire itself?

The choice was self-evident. With Rosian injured, providing the Empire justifiable cause, further resistance would prove fruitless.

‘From the outset, we had nothing to gain from this conflict!’

Moreover, as the majority of priests had opposed this deployment, withdrawing would spare them significant repercussions.

Exchanging glances, the senior priests eventually nodded in resigned acquiescence.

Then, a lone elder priest stepped forward, humbly addressing Rosian with the utmost deference.

“We extend our gratitude to you, Your Highness, for assisting in the ‘false High Priest’s’ punishment.”

Thus, the temple forces began their retreat.

Though some priests bribed by the dragons protested, they proved powerless against the self-preserving majority unwilling to sacrifice their lives.

* * *

Whooooooshhh!

The dragon firestorms unleashed from their maws possessed cataclysmic might.

Bang!

Crumble.

Despite being magically reinforced, the Magic Tower’s walls proved inadequate against the relentless dragon onslaught, gradually crumbling away.

Within mere hours of the war’s onset, the Magic Tower had lost all semblance of its former glory, its defenses collapsing into ruin.

As their once-formidable bastion lay shattered, a desolate husk, the magicians could only gaze upwards in despairing disbelief.

Their armaments had long since been rendered inoperable.

All that remained was to confront the harsh reality of their utterly hopeless plight.

While defending typically conferred advantages over the attackers, such maxims held true only among evenly matched adversaries.

From the moment the dragons and demonic beasts allied, the scales had tipped irrevocably against them.

That they had endured thus far was solely attributable to Diamid and his company’s efforts.

“Have a taste of this, vile dragon scum!”

Baaang!

Baaaaaaaang!

As meteors rained from the celestial rift, distant dragon howls of anguish echoed faintly.

“Baaaaaahk!”

Nonchalantly wiping the blood trickling from his nose, Mikael shrugged off the backlash from overexerting his mana reserves.

“Brother Mikael…”

Mikael not only strained his magical capabilities to their utmost limits but simultaneously relied upon Hilvenzia’s rejuvenating concoctions. A perilous endeavor risking his very life, yet he remained utterly unfazed.

“I’ve hardly depleted my mana reserves. You should worry about your father instead.”

His words rang true. Diamid’s condition was currently the direst.

The Magic Tower’s perseverance thus far was due entirely to Diamid’s relentless barrage of compounded spells.

Unleashing area-of-effect assaults upon the dragons, erecting defensive barriers over their forces, nullifying the incoming dragon firestorms.

Any ordinary magician would have long since expired, bleeding out from the sheer exertion.

‘Father…’

Shaaaaaaahhhh!

Even now, torrential downpours continued pelting the dragon ranks.

As the deluge thoroughly drenched them, Diamid snapped his fingers in anticipation.

Babababang!

The scorching lightning bolts sent the massive dragon forms plummeting from the heavens.

Boooom!

The colossal beings crashed precisely amidst the demonic beast hordes, undoubtedly crushing scores beneath their immense bulk.

-Insolent human male.

Before Diamid materialized a lone dragon entity, its golden scales glistening resplendently.

Having resided among Black Night clan in her youth, Jaina instinctively recognized this formidable presence.

“Kalarya, the dragon leader…”

The sole survivor of the ancient golden clan from centuries past.

Despite lacking a supporting faction, his sheer power and intellect had secured his ascent as the dragon sovereign.

Shudder.

His mere approach elicited an involuntary chill coursing through Jaina’s being – one of the Clan of Gold’s innate abilities.

To utterly crush the morale of inferiors, subjugating their very essence with an overwhelming aura of dread.

-Because of you, that child tainted by human blood, all have suffered calamity.

Kalarya’s eyes shimmered with a golden luminescence, his penetrating gaze fixating upon Jaina.

-I am the arbiter restoring balance to this world. To avenge my fallen brethren and reclaim our dragon honor, I shall slay you and your spawn.