Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

There was a reason Soren fancied the book and remembered it well, not counting for his strange memory for random facts.

The protagonist, Soren had decided, was an interesting character, and so were the many others that accompanied him.

For the person who felt few emotions, the feelings written on paper were interesting to him. 

When Raphael despaired over betrayal, cheered over new hope and felt burning anger during battles, Soren read it all. In reading about Raphael, the man felt like he could understand. Understand the feelings he couldn't feel.

But in face of the actual character, all Soren wanted to do was to stay away.

However, the prince, once immortal reaper, was not heartless. He just didn't intend to directly help Raphael, minding his own business for the majority of the time. What he didn't really expect was the depth of the protagonist's paranoia. 

How could he, when emotions were a thing so foreign?

Now, standing before the man and feeling the cold tip of the blade rest on his neck, he didn't flinch. Instead, he glanced down at the blade and then lifted his icy eyes to meet Raphael's, a strange, unnerving calm that the other couldn't perceive.

"I am," said Soren after a moment, watching the grip on the sword tighten. "Soren Rosenbaum, the fifth prince of this land."

Raphael wasn't amused, pressing the blade further until a trickle of crimson ran down the pale skin. "It's not the time to mess around, little prince."

"If not Soren, then who am I?"

"How could I—"

"Is there anybody else I could be?"

Soren was a little tired, speaking so much about such a bothersome thing.

It wasn't that it scared him to tell the complete truth, but it was something rather difficult to believe. It would only make Raphael more suspicious, weary of Soren's identity.

If one were to find out that their entire world was false, words scribbled on a paper by an author who didn't care, what would they say?

Well, Soren thought about that, but he said it anyway, seeing Raphael's unrelenting glare. Or at least, he said some of it. 

He stepped forward again, even closer, as the cool wind blew between them. The sword slid to the side of his neck, waiting dangerously in the air.

"I am Soren Rosenbaum. But, I'm also not."

Raphael's expression transformed. "You can't possibly mean--"

"I do." said Soren calmly, lifting his steely gaze.

If it was the protagonist, he would understand immediately. 

How could a person be somebody, but also not be that person? It wasn't a hard question, although many answers could be generated. 

In this case, what would be the most familiar to Raphael?

The most unbelievable truth of another world. Another soul in this other world, just like Raphael himself.

Only, this soul was trapped, inhabiting a body that had already pre-existed.

Raphael's hand trembled, but he didn't lower his sword. It had been a long, lonely time without knowing why he was forced to witness world after world collapse. Each world filled with different people, different societies, but meeting the same fate as he could only watch helplessly.

There was no person who could remain the same after all that time.

 Raphael was no exception.

'You're lying.' Raphael wanted to say, but he knew this prince was not, with his steady-fast expression and cool sky eyes. There were dozens of emotions that flashed through his face in a moment before it finally settled.

What could he really say at this moment? 

The strong paranoia that had overwhelmed his mind cooled slightly, allowing him to regain a sense of sanity. Right now wasn't the time to confront this prince. 

Even if unbelievable, this small information was more than he should've expected. 

"Then..." said Raphael slowly, revealing a half smile after a moment that carried traces of his daze. "What's your name, little prince?"

Soren blinked. 

He swallowed back his words of saying, 'none of your business' as he observed the protagonist carefully. People were hard to understand, and no matter Soren tried, he wouldn't be able to. 

But Raphael was an emotional person, and his eyes washed over Soren like waves of emotion, drenching him completely in those vivid feelings.

Soren hesitated, but then decided it didn't matter. An introduction meant nothing much. "Ren Suzuki."

Raphael put away his sword, though his stance didn't relax. 

After all, the feeling of having somebody able to understand you was unimaginable, but there was still the natural paranoia that was engraved into the depths of his bone. 

He stretched out a hand, traces of confusion still lingering on his face even as he smiled. "Then, it's nice to meet you, Ren Suzuki."

"...I'm not shaking your hand."

"....." Raphael sighed, taking his hand back promptly. "Of course you won't."

Soren didn't show any remorse at ruining a possibly touching moment and said, "Are you done with your questioning?" 

Raphael looked at him seriously. "I believe you, for the most part, but that doesn't mean I trust you. No matter how I look at it, your actions are suspicious."

Well, Soren couldn't blame him. 

He didn't intend to tell the whole truth of the existence of the book, the apocalypse in the past and his abilities or anything of the sort. He told the most unrealistic yet believable truth that was exclusive to Raphael. 

However, the prince's actions were indeed suspicious. He was almost like a prophet, almost appearing whenever a situation popped up with no explanation. 

Soren had to admit, he hoped the protagonist wouldn't think much of it and just ignore all the plot holes or mysteries that were left unsolved. A suspicious hero wasn't an issue, but when the target of suspicion was oneself, then it became a little annoying. 

The atmosphere should've become awkward, but neither party were people who knew the meaning of 'awkward'. Standing in front of each other, they stood in a comfortable silence.

Soren replied calmly, "Ok. Don't trust me."

"Hearing you say that makes my impression of you even stranger, did you know?"

"....." Then was it better that he said nothing? Understanding this protagonist was indeed more trouble than it wa worth.

"So. How'd you enter this world, little prince?" 

'Ah, the nickname didn't change even if I admitted the truth.' That was a rather annoying, Soren concluded. Therefore, he didn't feel interested in answering questions properly. 

Although really, even if Raphael hadn't called him that, Soren wasn't very interested regardless.

"None of your business."

"I was actually wondering when you'd say that." said Raphael with an inner roll of his eyes, sighing once again. "Then..."

"How do you know who I am?"

The question lingered in the air like a piercing knife, weighing on them both. To begin with, that was probably the question Raphael was most curious about. 

"No." came the unreasonable answer that made no sense whatsoever. 

Raphael's serious expression fell into confusion. "No?"

Soren nodded. "No."

"Huh?" Another headache felt like it was coming. A 'little prince' headache, Raphael might as well call it, since it seemed to happen at every meeting at least once. 

"I don't know who you are."

Raphael looked at him stupidly. "Are you a fool, little prince?"

"I'm not."

"Right. You don't want to answer my questions, so fine. How about this? Are you going to look for your butler?"

Soren almost forgot about Damien in the moment. 

He shook his head honestly, lightly glancing at the path that the teenager had disappeared into. Since the youth had revealed his true colours, he wouldn't return to an everyday lifetime as he did before, even if he was curious about Soren. 

Damien didn't mix work and pleasure.

Tonio would be undoubtedly dealt with — Soren recalled the silent violence in Damien's eyes as his tails and ears appeared. 

Rare and unyielding, he was a true leader. 

"I have something to so." said Soren, thinking.

The hideout at the bottom of the Darkness mountain was still holding at least a dozen children hostage. They were Soren's original goal, while helping Damien learn of Tonio's betrayal earlier had been a secondary thing.

Raphael seemed to understand the situation relatively. "Is it related to the issue with the fox tribe?"

"Yes."

Then Soren started walking away. 

Raphael looked at him in confusion. Not even a goodbye? Where had the conversation ended to begin with? No, it was hardly an end; it was that prince who decided to end the conversation as he pleased.

He almost laughed. 'Haha, damn.' 

Even if Soren wasn't as suspicious as he was, Raphael could probably never get along with such a character.

However, he gave one side-long glance at his sword before following the prince. His mind was still a little jumbled, but at the present moment, he felt that he didn't want to leave this person out of his sight. 

What sort of curious surprises could Soren, no, Ren Suzuki, show him?

Well, Raphael could be said to have had an interesting opinion that was somewhat cautious, somewhat intrigued after hearing the truth. However, after Soren went in a circle for the fifth time around a familiar building, Raphael felt disillusioned.

This little prince who could make threats and insults without blinking, revealing a truth in such a dramatic way, was directionally challenged?

He almost laughed.

Eventually, Raphael couldn't help but say, "The mountain is right there."

Soren glanced at him with a dumb folded expression, once again seeming to wonder, 'are you an idiot?' 

"I know."

Raphael felt extremely offended at this time. After all, who was the one who just passed the same sign for the sixth time now? "I hate to break it to you, but we've walked around the same corner for the sixth time now."

"Oh." Soren looked around. "I know."

"..." You know? Then why are you still walking in circles?

However, Soren showed so signs of stopping as he continued to walk. Eventually, Raphael couldn’t bare watching such a pitiful scene and grabbed his arm.

Soren looked back with a little disgust. But, for a person lacking expression like Soren, it was quite vivid for Raphael. 

"Let go."

Raphael let go instantly. He took a deep breath, tapping the hilt of his sword before he decided to be a proper, mature adult. "I'll lead the way."

"No."

"No? Wait, no, don't answer that." Raphael sighed again. "I already know the answer."

"If you know, don't ask."

"Yeah, I'm regretting my decisions now. Unless you want to arrive at the mountain tomorrow, stay quiet and follow me, little prince."

Raphael pulled a Soren, walking off without another word. Soren stared after him blankly with a small frown. After a moment, he followed after the protagonist silently. 

It wasn't as if he wasn't aware of his lacking direction skills, but that didn't mean he enjoyed being led around by somebody who had the expression of a parent tolerating their noisy children. 

However, it was true that the situation wasn't one to take lightly, and arriving sooner would be better for the trapped children. 

It didn't take long to arrive at the bottom of the Darkness mountain. 

A quarter of the time Soren had spent wandering around, though Soren had no intention of apologizing for it. Not that Raphael wanted an apology — he was too busy feeling relieved they finally managed to arrive.

Looking at Soren’s terrible directional skills really made one worry if they’d ever arrive.

The bottom of the Darkness mountain was a gloomy place, surrounded by a sense of depression that pressed onto your back like burdens weighing you down. Dark, foggy mist circled around the plants that were long dead, lapping against Soren's ankles.

A sky where no sun could reach, too sealed up by the darkness to find light. This was the Darkness mountain, a place where no living returned from.  

This place was mysterious, even with the knowledge from the book. Some called the mist dark mana, used by only those with villainous powers. Others just called it death mist, the danger as literal as its name was.

Soren had assumed a noble creature might've died here, though he wasn't sure. Animal tribes existed in this world, but there weren't fantasy creatures like dragons or fairies as far as he knew. 

Whatever the case, the bottom was tolerable. It gave a feeling of suffocation, like slender hands slowly tightening around your neck, but that wasn't enough to keep Soren away.

He wandered for a while, looking for the broken down shelter where the children were trapped. Most likely, it was an abandoned place built long before, when the Darkness mountain was only another mountain.

This time, it was more of a game of luck than skill in directions. Raphael couldn't show the way, and Soren couldn't find it either.

Actually, he intended to bring the 'original' book with him. It had a detailed map of multiple locations in the novel, including any place of significance. The arc in which Damien found the children was extremely memorable. 

[The young fox stepped into the room, eyes cold. Even as the dark mist curled around his legs, eager to consume him whole, he did not flinch. 

His eyes darkened, lips drawn taut. 

Before him were several children, all sprouting familiar tails and ears of a variety of colours. But he was already too late. What he saw were not living, struggling members of his tribe, but the innocent corpses of those who had given up all hope. 

Those who were not even young enough to understand or fight, now lost in this sea of despair.]

At that time, Soren had only thought, 'People are truly quite disgusting.'

The fox tribe members were still humans in their own right, just mixed breeds. That was why they were popular, because they carried a humanity that couldn't be replicated, but skills that were given to them at birth. 

Their precious rarity became their ultimate downfall.

"Do you know where you're going?" asked Raphael, interrupting Soren's thoughts.

Soren looked at him calmly. "I don't."

"....." It was definitely not an answer that the protagonist had expected to hear, even if it was from this insufferable little prince.

Then to make things worse, Soren added, "It's your fault."

If Raphael hadn't chosen to follow him, Soren could've brought the book with him. Or at least, if that man wasn't so paranoid that Soren knew a lot of trouble would come if Raphael caught sight of the pages.

Soren shook his head with some annoyance, while Raphael looked at him in disbelief.

The wilted leaves crunched under their feet as they kept walking before Soren stopped. A few metres away from broken house, the roof half collapsed as it tumbled onto the ground. There were large holes in the walls, but they could see nothing from the outside.

"Is this the place?" wondered Raphael, noticing Soren's movement. 

Soren nodded. 

But when he moved to step forward, a low cry echoed in the air. It was in the direction of the house, from the very depths where neither men could make out.

Then came an angry shout. "Shut up, brat!" 

Thuuud—!

A resounding hit. 

Another cry. 

Soren's eyes narrowed slightly, while Raphael gripped his sword, eyebrows furrowed and lips frowning deeply. At this point, he made a vague guess of what was inside the house and what Soren intended to do. 

Soren glanced at Raphael. "How many?"

If it had been another time, Raphael would've joked and said, 'How would I know?' but it wasn't the time for jokes. 

His eyes flickered, and he said in a low voice, "Twelve."

"Few."

"Yeah, hardly enough for a warm up." Raphael grinned, but his obsidian eyes were cold, blazing with a deep flame.

The mist seemed to part for them, the feeling of death deepening at the two walked forward together towards the gaping hole in the wall, towards the suppressed sobbing that came from the darkness.

Shiiing—

Raphael pulled out his sword in a clear swoop, resting it over his shoulders as he walked forward, aura dangerous and murderous. 

Craaack—

A long, swinging chain snapped in the air, wrapping around Soren's slender arm as it seemed to glow a chilling blue, feeding off its master's bloody memories of wrath.

They did not get along, but at this time, they walked together with the same goal in mind, same morals controlling their movements. 

Together, they stepped through the wall.