Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

The reports regarding the location had been as Soren expected, which made things easier. Once Damien noticed something was off, everything would unravel in one clean swipe of the hand. 

A liar could only remain a liar, and a single truth being found was all it took to brand that name.

The location was far enough not to be bothered by any of his nosey brothers, and far enough that he could slip out during the chaos.

Everything turned out accordingly, Soren figured.

Well, at least, he thought.

Until opening the doors to the small carriage, at least. Sitting calmly on the leather seat as if he owned the carriage, not an ounce of shame present in his stance, was the last the prince wanted to see.

When Soren opened the door, the other man lifted his dark gaze and a lazy smile spread over his lips.

"Hey, little prince."

Soren slammed the door shut.

He closed his eyes, then slowly opened it again. Raphael waved, rather delighted by his expression. To others, Soren seemed the same, but to the protagonist's discerning eye, there was a sliver of irritation.

In fact, Raphael found Soren wasn't quite as emotionless as he came across. 

It was barely noticeable, but when watched carefully, Soren's expressions changed slightly on different occasions. Although Raphael admitted that the prince truly seemed to feel fewer emotions than other people, he wasn't a complete stone wall.

To get a rise out of somebody who was often expressionless — it was pretty fun, actually.

Or, to be more precise, Soren frustrated him to the point he found revenge enjoyable. The prince had a way of making casual comments with little thought that could anger a person to death.

It was a talent, it really was. Not one that many appreciated, however.

Soren turned to Damien. "Why?"

Short and concise were his master's words, but Damien understood it anyway. "I was unaware of this as well, master."

"....." Soren blinked twice, then got into the carriage a little reluctantly. 

The small hesitation in his foot that lasted for a glimmer of a second didn't go unnoticed by Raphael.

As Damien went to the front of the carriage, Soren sat in the opposite corner of Raphael. Although it may have been a trick of the light, Raphael thought the prince was squeezing into the corner, like a scared mouse trapped by a cat. 

In this case, it would more be like an annoyed mouse who wanted to avoid a bothersome cat.

The adjectives were necessary to describe such a scene.

"Why?" repeated Soren again, to Raphael this time.

"What do you mean, why? I'm afraid I don't have the same skills your butler has, little prince." said Raphael with a smile, leaning comfortably into the cushion.

Soren stared at him pointedly. '

Nonsense.' thought the prince with a deep frown.

The protagonist was the one person who could rival the observant butler of his in EQ and understanding other people. He thought to ask again, but decided for looking out of the window sleepily.

It had been a long day, after all. Raphael's whims were not ones that Soren intended to go along with.

Raphael saw the prince wasn't intending to ask again and decided to be merciful. He spoke in an almost coaxing tone, which only sounded mocking in Soren's ears. "I'm also planning to go on a vacation."

Sore shifted his gaze over. "Lies."

"Don't be so quick to assume, little prince."

"....."

Raphael was rather patient, not minding Soren's random silence or few words. "I've been going around for a while dealing with your brothers' matters, so I'm taking a minor break. Since you're going too, I thought I might as well hitch a ride."

"...bothersome."

"I don't really want to hear that from you."

"....."

Well, he had a point there. Damien, who was listening through the window with his sharp hearing, glanced back.

There were times his master would stump the other terribly, and other times when that man would deal with his master beautifully. Although together, it often made Soren look more like his age, while Raphael carried maturity beyond his years. 

They both seemed a little more relaxed, however.

Then Raphael spoke again. "You're not really going on a vacation, are you?"

"I am." said Soren coldly, leaving no room for argument.

Raphael raised his brows and shifted in his position. "Then tell me, why this location?"

"To see the landmarks."

"Was the character of the fifth prince ever interested in looking at landmarks?"

Soren paused. 

He didn't doubt that others could realize something was strange about his personality, but nobody could point it out, for no obvious answer could be given. His brothers had ignored him and had no right to point anything out, while Damien cared little as long as it was of interest.

Of course, the protagonist was far too suspicious of him to sit still. He was a smiling wolf, hiding the centuries of despair behind the casual grin.

[Raphael showed mercy to everyone, the type of hero that would try to save every person instead of the world.

But he was also merciless to those he couldn't trust, and to his enemies.]

'This paranoid hero...'

"It's a new hobby." replied Soren simply, with no hesitation.

Raphael stared at him, then a smile spread across his lips. "Who’s the real liar, I wonder?"

"...if not, then tell me why else?"

"How could I know that? I'm not omnipotent."

"So, shut up."

"....." Raphael's smile cracked a little. "I keep forgetting what kind of character you are."

"Then remember." said Soren coldly with an icy look.

"I'm just trying to make some small talk, alright? Let's be friends, little prince."

"No."

The reply came instantly, with no hesitation.

"....."

Suddenly, Soren said, "If you want to fight, I'll fight you."

"...what?"

What Raphael could not comprehend at this moment was how a conversation about friendship could suddenly move into fighting. The fight they had was thrilling, addicting even, he admitted that much.

But right now, was he not genuinely trying to be kind to this troublesome prince?

He had figured encounters with this person seemed extremely common, and in order to keep a close eye on him, a friendship would be the simplest choice.

But really, all this person wanted to do was pick a fight?

Soren turned in his seat, his chilling blue eyes a little larger, a little more childish. "I won't reject a fight."

"...but I'm not asking for a fight."

Soren paused. "Then don't talk to me."

"..." Raphael took a deep breath and smiled half-heartedly. "I'll get offended at some point, don't you think?"

"I don't care."

Raphael smiled, done with life.

In truth, he had suspected Soren's intentions of this supposed vacation, and followed along in case the prince ended up posing as a danger in the future. However, he was regretting it a little.

A lot, actually.

"Right."

Done with the conversation as well, Soren turned to stare back out at the window. Raphael said nothing more, already regretting all of his life decisions in the other corner.

When they arrived, Soren wanted to part ways, only for Raphael to turn to Damien and request help in booking a hotel. Damien, being as useful as he was, found a nearby place for him to remain. 

There was something that was easy to overlook about the fox youth, and that was the fact that he acted to his own ambitions.

All tasks would be carried out perfectly, and he excelled at reading emotions and acting in a way people preferred, but that wouldn't mean he'd always act according to other people. 

Noticing Soren's avoiding behaviour with Raphael was simple, but his curiosity in watching their dynamic was more important to him.

So unfortunately, the poor master of his was stuck staying in a building near Raphael. Even Raphael didn't seem to have expected that, looking a little reluctant as he took the keys.

The image of a tiring trip while being treated coldly by this prince flashed before his mind.

"I'm going on a walk." said Soren after Raphael had gone off on his own.

Damien paused. "Are you viewing the mountain today?"

"Yes. Later."

"Understood."

The town wasn't large, having decreased in population with the darkness mountain over the years. 

Living next to an ominous place where nobody ever came back out alive was not something most people did, and those that lived in the area were often poorer. Unable to live a luxurious life, they could only live wherever they could and be weary of the mountain.

It was a good thing, really.

Few would explore the mountains — meaning Soren had a perfect time to go and enjoy his own solitude, not surrounded by the chattering crowds.

The most important thing was: today was the day that Tonio, that cruel, false leader of the fox tribe, would come out to make a payment.

There was something distinct about them.

Of course, Tonio could not work alone in the tribe and had several people who supported him in selling their own tribe's children for money. Their way of walking, acting, and moving wasn't one that a normal person could replicate.

Soren only needed to mention seeing something fast move before his eyes, and Damien would realize.

For what reason could there be that his tribe members would use a secret technique meant for missions? Certainly not for exploring the town, and certainly not for any reason that could make sense to him.

Not when there were supposed to be no issues with this area, according to the report.

Soren casually strolled into the town, looking around indifferently. 

He really wasn't a major fan of exploring everything like Damien was, preferring only to explore the things he knew were guaranteed to be exciting, but he doubted Tonio would remain hidden for long.

Clumsy was the false leader of the fox tribe.

Incomparable to Damien despite the age difference, truly. The youth beside him was not the leader because of his blood, but also because of his ability.

A god-given gift, just like Raphael had his natural compatibility with the world. Damien's personality was a perfect fit to become the leader, even at the age of sixteen.

"Are you looking for anything, master?"

The one who was suspicious of Soren wasn't Raphael alone, but everybody who was surprised by his change. Damien was no exception, although the boy did not care much for it like the others did. 

If Soren turned out to be boring, or a hinderance, there was a simple resolution.

The way of the fox tribe — Soren would only need to die.

Although Soren had enough confidence in a one and one fight, Damien's speciality was not the raw, brute honesty of a fistfight. He was a killer; an information gatherer who lurked in the shadows and blended in with the walls.

Soren glanced at him. "No."

"I see."

Suddenly, Damien stopped walking. Soren did too, a little surprised.

He didn't think that Tonio was foolish enough to act so brazenly, even if they didn't expect for the young tribe leader to be in the town at this time. 

Although the false leader's actions were stealthy enough for the regular person not to realize, anybody with a trained eye could.

With a large, wriggling bag thrown over his shoulder, he zipped past shadows, jumping around in plain sight. His movements were quick, as expected of a fox tribe member, but not cautious enough. 

Their ears sat alert on their heads, tails swaying behind as they flew across the ground.

Soren blinked and turned to Damien. "A familiar sight."

Damien stared ahead, something flashing in his eyes. 

A dangerous aura wrapped around Soren's body, surrounding the air as the scent of murder became more vivid. An almost gentle smile crossed Damien's lips as he stared ahead, losing traces of the obedient butler he had pretended to be.

"Fools." said the boy quietly, the words piercing through the air like knives. "They dared go against me?"

It was almost as if the previous youth was an illusion, layers of politeness stripped off at an instant. Even Soren could feel the suffocating bloodlust in the air, quietly seeping into the surroundings.

Damien could not tolerate being disrespected.

Before being the curious youth that he was, he was a born leader, a commander. Someone who expected his words to be understood and listened to, and expected obedience. 

As long as he received that, he would remain fair.

Betrayal was not an option.

"What are you—"

"You," interrupted Damien, lifting his chin to glance back at Soren through knowing forest haze. "Already understand my identity, don't you, master?"

The teenager moved his eyes back at the disappearing figures in the distance, eyes seeming to see what Soren could not. 

Soren's reply didn't matter to him — no, he already knew the truth. Once Damien ascertained something as a fact, there would be little that could convince him otherwise.

In fact, he had a feeling, seeing his master's blank expression at this moment. 

A feeling that this young prince, only two years his senior, already knew what was going on, knew more than Damien could at this moment.

But that mystery would have to be saved for another time. 

Right now, he needed to teach a few disobedient foxes when and when not to misbehave. It seemed a lesson was in order.

His body leaned forward, delicate black ears springing on top of his hair as he shook his head, unravelling the half slicked back look, pitch locks messily hanging over his glowing emerald eyes. Then, in the next second, he was gone.

Only a flash of wind left behind in his trail.

Cruel, deceiving and powerful was the young leader of the fox tribe. 

The quiet, curious butler had not been familiar to Soren in the beginning, but this character was. Raphael's companion, who had remained on neutral terms to the bitter end, Damien Black.

Tap, tap.

"And how," said a penetrating voice from behind Soren slowly.

"Did you discover his identity, little prince?"

Soren turned his head back, unsurprised, as he stared at the questioning jet eyes of the protagonist. 

The wind blew through his hair, unrolling his white strands as they danced in the wind freely. He stared at Raphael indifferently, and quietly said, "It's none of your business."

Raphael stepped closer. 

"That seems to be a trademark saying of yours. But you see, nothing is really making sense. For the silly youngest prince to realize the identity of the youngest fox tribe leader, Damien Black, does that make any sense?"

"It's possible."

"Answer the question, prince. How did you discover his identity?"

Soren had fully turned around at this point, only a meter away from Raphael. There was a quiet questioning in the air, stifling and suffocating.

An empty space, where only they and their words weighed heavily in the atmosphere.

From the beginning of the trip, Soren hadn't expected to keep his awareness a secret from Raphael the moment he saw the protagonist sitting in his carriage.

If Damien could figure Soren's strange knowledge out, then Raphael could do the same if given the opportunity. That man wasn't one to cut corners, nor to beat around the bush once he was certain of his suspicions.

In that way, he got along with Damien quite well.

The true identity of Damien wasn't complicated, but for the previous Soren, it was a far cry from impossible.

A visit into town could be called a vacation, his participation in the fighting ring could be ruled for amusement and they could blame his lacking interest in going out on boredom.

But Soren's knowledge of certain matters could not be explained, especially not the hidden identity of the fox tribe leader, who only those with wide connections could know of. 

Or else, how could Damien walk around so freely, dressed as a butler for a useless prince whose fame was notorious all over the continent?

"I happened to find out."

That wasn't a lie.

But it wasn't the truth that Raphael was seeking, either.

"I'm almost certain of it now. The difference between you and the rumours could very well be the fault of the rumours, but rumours exist for a reason. For a person to be so different in the eyes of their family themselves, it's strange. Very strange."

Soren stared through his cool blue eyes, the sort of all-seeing look that couldn't be explained. Coated with a history that couldn’t be imagined by any other. "Raphael Han,"

"What are you trying to save?"

Raphael narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You want to stop watching people die. You're tired, and you've given up."

 It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

Striking and clear, with no room for rejection.

What Soren wanted was simplicity. To live out his days and to die in peace in this cursed immortality. If the truth couldn't be hidden, no matter what, then Soren wouldn't hide the truth.

It was pointless, it really was.

Soren stepped forward.

“I promise you, Raphael. I will not bother you."

"Save the people of this world, if you can." continued Soren coldly. "And when you think you're about to fail again, I’ll help you."

What Raphael needed was a guarantee.

That his suspicions about Soren were unwarranted, that Soren would not become a wall that ultimately ruined the world once again. Because even if Raphael had given up, his path was set to become a hero once again, against all odds. 

So what Soren could become, instead of an opposer, was an ally.

In that way, they could coexist in this world. These two people who didn't belong in this reality.

Raphael drew his sword, thrusting it out as it sliced through the air with a sharp, chilling sound. Glimmering with an edge that promised death, the tip of the blade grazed Soren’s slender neck, floating in the air.

"Soren Rosenbaum." said Raphael. "Who the hell are you?"