The road leading into the Third Prince's domain was quiet.
Too quiet for Tim's liking.
"Y'know," Tim said, kicking a loose stone off the path, "if the Seventh Prince really starts a kingdom battle, this place is going to turn into ash."
Jim snorted. "It already looks like ash."
Tim glanced sideways. "You're not wrong."
They walked side by side, armor unfastened, cloaks loose. Neither looked particularly alert—more like two men heading to a boring assignment they didn't respect.
"Still can't believe we got stationed here," Tim muttered. "Third Prince's territory. Of all places."
Jim shrugged. "Better than escort duty in the western chaos zones."
Tim grimaced. "Fair."
They walked a few more steps before Jim spoke again.
"You hear about the Sixth Prince?"
Tim let out a low whistle. "You mean how he almost killed his own knight?"
"Beat him half to death," Jim corrected. "Right there in the field."
Tim shook his head. "Knight should've followed orders."
Jim stopped walking.
Tim noticed. Turned back. "What?"
Jim frowned. "No. That knight was right."
Tim scoffed. "He disobeyed a direct command."
"In a chaotic zone," Jim shot back. "You don't push forward blindly in places like that. One calamity-class shift and the Sixth Prince would've been paste."
Tim crossed his arms. "Still not his call."
"It is when safety protocols exist for a reason," Jim said flatly. "Knights aren't toys."
Tim snorted. "Tell that to a prince."
They resumed walking.
"Sixth Prince acts like power gives him immunity," Jim added. "One bad decision and—"
"And someone else pays for it," Tim finished.
A pause.
Then Tim grinned. "Still. If you're gonna serve royalty, better get used to bleeding."
Jim rolled his eyes. "You're unbearable."
Tim laughed. "You love me."
"Unfortunately."
The Third Prince's domain came into clearer view—modest walls, quiet watch posts, guards who looked alert but under-resourced.
Jim glanced around. "So this is it."
"Kingdom's trash prince," Tim said lightly. "Home sweet home."
Jim smirked. "Guy would've been exiled already if not for Master Matthew."
"Probably," Tim said. "Rumor is Seventh Prince's just waiting for the right excuse."
"And now he's got one," Jim added.
They walked past a patrol.
"Kingdom battle," Tim said. "Third Prince won't last a month."
Jim shrugged. "Depends."
Tim raised an eyebrow. "On what?"
"On how much Matthew's really backing him," Jim replied. "And how desperate the Seventh Prince is."
Tim chuckled. "Desperate enough to offer five cities, from what I hear."
Jim stopped again.
"Five?" he repeated.
Tim nodded. "That's the rumor."
Jim exhaled slowly. "That's not confidence."
That caught Tim's attention.
Jim continued, "That's someone trying to buy silence."
Tim thought about that.
Then laughed it off. "Still doesn't change the end result. Third Prince is finished."
Jim didn't answer immediately.
They continued walking.
"…Maybe," Jim said at last.
Tim glanced at him. "You're thinking something."
Jim shook his head. "Just saying. People who get ignored too long tend to surprise you."
Tim grinned. "You sound like you're hoping for it."
Jim didn't deny it.
Ahead, the gates of the Third Prince's domain loomed closer.
The corridor leading to the Third Prince's chambers was empty.
No servants.No maids.No idle attendants whispering behind pillars.
Tim noticed it first.
"…Huh," he muttered. "Still doing it?"
Jim glanced around, eyes narrowing slightly. "Yeah. Same as before."
"Experiments," Tim said. "Guy really doesn't like witnesses."
"Or spies," Jim replied. "Smart, at least."
They slowed their pace instinctively. The silence here wasn't neglect—it was intentional. Karl's orders still held weight in one specific way: no one entered his space unless summoned.
Tim leaned closer. "You think any of those experiments actually worked?"
Jim shrugged. "If they had, we'd know."
"True," Tim said. "Hard to hide power in this place."
They reached the doors.
Tim knocked—once, cleanly.
"Your Highness," Jim said evenly. "We're here."
"Enter."
The voice was calm.
When they stepped inside, the room felt… contained.
Not cluttered, not bare—just controlled.
Karl sat in a chair near the window, light falling across his face at an angle that softened his expression. A parchment rested on the desk before him, ink still fresh. His hand moved steadily, sketching symbols neither of them recognized.
He didn't look up immediately.
Tim and Jim bowed.
Naturally. Automatically.
Not out of fear—but habit.
Kai finished the line he was drawing, then set the quill down.
"Lift your heads," he said.
They did.
His gaze moved between them—measured, curious.
"How strong are you both?" Kai asked.
Tim answered without hesitation. "Fourth level of the Pinnacle."
Jim nodded. "Both of us."
Kai's fingers paused.
"Fourth," he repeated softly.
Kai tilted his head slightly. "The Seventh Prince?"
Tim exhaled. "Sixth level."
Kai's eyes sharpened.
"And his energy?"
Jim answered this time. "Sound."
Kai absorbed the answer without visible reaction.
Sound.
He leaned back slightly, fingers resting on the arm of the chair.
"A Sixth Pinnacle," Kai said calmly. "With resonance-based energy."
The twins waited.
Kai's gaze shifted back to the parchment for a moment, then returned to them.
"Have the palace staffed again," he said. "Bring the workers back."
Tim blinked. "All of them?"
"Yes."
Jim frowned. "You asked for them to be cleared out because of spies."
"I did," Kai replied evenly.
A pause.
"But the experiment failed so now I dont mind them," Kai continued.
For a second—just a second—there was something sharp behind his eyes.
"I don't mind knowing who's watching," Kai said calmly. "That's all."
The twins exchanged a glance.
Kai rose from his chair.
"In the afternoon," he said, "both of you will be ready. Full gear. We'll take an entourage."
Tim straightened. "Where to?"
"One of my cities," Kai replied, already turning toward the window.
"Velaris."
Jim exhaled quietly. "You're going personally."
"Yes."
"That'll draw attention," Tim said.
Kai nodded once.
"Good."
He waved a hand, dismissing them.
"Go."
The twins bowed and left.
As the doors closed behind them, Tim muttered under his breath, "He's letting them walk in."
Jim didn't answer immediately.
"…Yeah," he said at last. "He looks like a lost cause."
Back in the room, Kai returned to the parchment.
Sound.Resonance.Timing.
He added a final line to the symbol.
Two months.
That was the timeline the Seventh Prince believed in.
Kai smiled faintly.
Two weeks.
That was when the game would actually begin.
Afternoon came.
The light outside the Third Prince's chambers had shifted—longer shadows, duller gold. The palace stirred again as servants returned cautiously to their duties.
Tim approached the door.
He hesitated.
Then knocked.
"Your Highness," he called. "It's time to depart."
No answer.
Tim frowned and pushed the door open.
The smell hit him first.
Alcohol.
Strong. Cheap. Overpowering.
Kai sat slumped near the table, a half-empty bottle tipped on its side, liquid pooling across parchment and ink. His hair was disheveled, his posture loose—unfocused.
He was muttering.
"…always like this… always pushing…"
Tim stepped closer. "Your Highness?"
Kai lifted his head slowly.
His eyes were unfocused.
Bloodshot.
"…They want my city," Kai slurred. "Those idiots… my city…"
Tim's heart sank.
He turned sharply. "Jim!"
Jim rushed in and froze at the sight.
"…Shit."
Kai tried to stand.
Failed.
He pushed the chair back violently, nearly knocking it over.
"Don't—" Tim said, reaching out.
Kai slapped his hand away.
"Don't touch me," Kai snapped. "You— you think you're better than me?"
Tim recoiled instinctively.
Servants rushed in at the noise, hesitant, uncertain.
"Help him sit," Jim said quickly.
They tried.
Kai shoved them aside, stumbling forward, knocking over a tray.
"I said—take me to Velaris!" he shouted. "Right now!"
"Your Highness, please," one servant pleaded. "You're unwell—"
"Unwell?" Kai laughed harshly. "You think I'm the problem?"
He staggered toward the door.
As they guided him—half-carried, half-dragged—through the corridors, his voice rose.
"Velaris!" he screamed. "Bunch of useless leeches!"
Servants froze.
Guards stiffened.
"You start conflicts you can't finish," Kai yelled, pointing wildly. "And then you cry when my brother comes knocking!"
Tim moved closer, lowering his voice urgently. "Your Highness, please—"
"Stay back," Kai snapped. "All of you stay back!"
His eyes burned—not with madness, but hurt.
Anger without direction.
Fear without armor.
"They think I'm weak," Kai slurred. "They all do. Seventh Prince… thinks he can take what's mine…"
As they reached the escort wagon, Kai struggled again, gripping the doorframe.
"You hear me?" he shouted at no one in particular. "I am not trash, you all are trash, the world is trash."
Jim leaned in, voice low and desperate. "Stop talking. Please."
Kai turned on him.
"You think I don't know?" he hissed. "You think I don't know what he's planning?"
Then his strength failed.
He sagged forward, breath ragged, anger dissolving into exhaustion.
They eased him into the wagon at last.
The doors closed.
Inside, Kai slumped against the seat, bottle rolling from his grasp.
Outside, Tim stood frozen.
Jim swallowed.
"…We need to report this to Sir Matthew, I think he should take the deal" Tim said quietly.
Jim didn't answer.
The wagon lurched forward.
And from the palace balconies, from servant quarters, from hidden corners—
Eyes watched.
Ears listened.
And far away, in places Kai had never been—
The story would spread:
The Third Prince was breaking.