Heller's POV:
It was hard to say what that thing was.
There should have been a grand mansion there, though only three stories tall, it had a touch of intricate design, a sign that a deeply virtuous family resided within.
But now, the mansion was gone, replaced by a mass of inexplicable 'flesh and blood'.
I was unsure if 'flesh and blood' was an accurate description because, amidst the surging of muscles and pustules, occasional glimpses of the architectural structure appeared, as if the mansion had suddenly come to life, evolving its own body.
The military forces stationed around Charlies' estate have fully controlled the area. The soldiers wore evident anxiety on their faces. It wasn't until I ran out that I realized why the reinforcements were not arriving promptly. They had been here long ago, deliberately delaying.
This time, we were the ones caught in the fishing net of law enforcement.
I looked at the few people leading to the side. They were responsible for this team, staring at the mansion made of flesh and blood with furrowed brows, lost in thought.
Did they know what they were doing?
What was their purpose in delaying?
Did they know Yarin was still inside?
I didn't understand why they wouldn't rescue a fugitive they knew was inside, but it was probably all about power struggles and interests.
Dad must have trusted them a lot to send them here, right? But these people didn't really care about me, Yarin, or Cynthia. They didn't care about the living beings trapped inside the Charlies' mansion.
I walked over and asked in a low voice, "Gentlemen, what are you doing?"
The highest-ranking officer glanced at me and respectfully but perfunctorily said, "We're discussing a rescue plan, Your Highness. Please wait to the side. It's dangerous here."
"Because it's dangerous, you're not doing anything?"
They froze. "What?"
I looked straight at them and calmly said, "Because you're afraid the mansion is dangerous and the fugitive is dangerous, you're not planning to do anything? Just like when you hid in the darkness waiting for Tyle to break into the Charlies' mansion?"
The leader frowned and impatiently said, "Please don't disturb us, Your Highness. You're still young and don't understand what we're doing. I'll have your servant take you away."
As he said that, he rudely motioned for the servants, tending to their wounds nearby, to take me away.
But the servants merely glanced at him and didn't move.
"What's wrong with you all? Quickly take the prince away!" The leader raised his voice in frustration, but the servants still paid him no attention.
He was like an enraged castrated pig, furious yet forced to maintain a ludicrous semblance of dignity.
"They are my servants, servants of the royal family, servants of the Oromalivira lineage, they have their own free will. You have no authority to command them, sir."
I no longer wanted to indulge this person in his deception. His posturing made me sick. "Now, either fulfill your duty as a soldier immediately or remove your epaulets and hand command to someone else."
The leader looked at me in disbelief. A few seconds later, he let out a scornful, cold laugh. "I think you've got the situation wrong," he said indifferently. "You're a prince, but that doesn't mean your status gives you the right to boss me around. Your noble crown is useful only in parades. In the army, no one is going to cut you slack just because you're a prince. Do you understand?"
He was afraid.
I could sense this fact clearly.
Though he spoke with firmness and an air of authority, he feared me. He emphasized my royal status multiple times, attempting to bolster his sense of security with the army's presence. In essence, he knew I had uncovered the truth. He feared facing punishment for this, so he tried to intimidate me to get me back off. He treated me like an ordinary child, this idiot. The twelve-year-old standing before him had come to hold him accountable despite everything that had happened tonight, yet he treated me like a child who would cry and wet my pants if he threatened me a bit.
Perhaps he already realized that this night couldn't end well, but he was fooling himself.
In any case, this person was both despicable and pitiable.
"I don't even know your name," I said.
He opened his mouth, probably to introduce himself, but I cut him off and continued, "What does that mean? It means I don't need to know your name. You're irrelevant to me. And who is irrelevant to me? Those I can easily dispose of with your disdainful royal status."
He turned pale as if he'd transformed into a chameleon.
"You're unworthy of being a soldier because you abandon your duty out of fear, acting like you're in the right, but in reality, you're just a laughable coward. I truly feel sorry for my father. He trusted you and entrusted the safety of his children and his subjects to you, yet you tossed aside the honor of a soldier and watched them die with indifference.
"Actually, I don't understand why you would think the consequences of a failed mission would be better than facing the consequences of confronting the fugitive. If you really believe the queen and the prince are kind enough to forgive you even after losing all their children, then I can only say you're consistently foolish."
I wouldn't let him off easily. He needed to know what price he'd have to pay.