Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

Seeing through the fog was nearly an impossible task, though Soren and Raphael were both people who didn't quite know the meaning of 'impossible'.

The rotting floorboards creaked as they stepped through the gap, the voices inside immediately going silent. Other than a quiet, quivering sob that seemed to vibrate all around, there were no other sounds. The twelve people within the house silently stared in the direction of the wall opening, readying their weapons to prepare for a silent attack.

On the other hand, Raphael and Soren weren't quite at all.

Soren slashed his hand at the ground, the whip colliding violently with the floor as dust scattered.

Raphael cared little for stealth but said, "What are you doing?"

"Stretching."

"Stretching what, your wrist?"

The prince glanced at him and then smashed the whip against the floor once again, the sound of breaking wood bouncing off the walls. "No. My arm."

He tugged at his shirt, reminding Raphael of the bandages that were covering his skin, splotches of red in several spots. The protagonist had almost forgotten that this person was injured from the earlier battles during the fighting ring. Though to be fair, Soren hardly looked like a patient.

Raphael stared at him and opened his mouth.

"No." said Soren before he could say anything.

"You don't know what I was about to say."

"My intuition tells me the answer is no."

"....."

It was hopeless worrying about a stubborn fool, and Soren was exactly that, but much worse. Raphael sighed and continued walking forward without hiding the sound of his footsteps.

On the other side, the twelve kidnappers were increasingly confused. They couldn't hear the conversation from where they were, deep in the building in the maze of rooms that were tightly fixed on the first floor, but they heard the smash of wood.

Sounds became increasingly louder in a quiet building, but it also made one's hair stand on its end. They could vaguely hear talking, though the words weren't clear.

Were the intruders having a fight of their own? Or were they so powerful that they didn't have to worry about being stealthy? This sort of self-depreciating thinking wasn't something recommended, but it was correct in this case.

The latter statement, unfortunately for them, was undeniable.

One of the twelve seemed to shiver instinctively and nervously turned to whisper. "S-should we really ambush them?"

Another scowled and held his finger to his lips. "Shh. There aren't that many people, we outnumber them."

"Y-yeah but, I have a bad feelin', y'know?"

"Quiet. You'll expose us."

The other stopped talking, but he couldn't help but feel nervous as he hid in a nearby room. The twelve were spread out, teaming up in groups to ambush the intruder. If one group was eliminated, then the others would rush while that group played the sacrifice.

Although none of them wanted to die.

Creeeaaak—

The floorboards continued to creak, increasingly getting louder as the intruders approached. The nervous kidnapper shivered, feeling a chilling wind run up his back, even if it was not cold.

What exactly was approaching, they had no way of seeing.

All they could do was crouch and tremble, hands grasping their weapons until their knuckles turned white, ears alert and fearful. It was almost as if something would stretch out and grab them in the darkness, dragging them along the broken floorboards as they helplessly struggled.

Suddenly, the murmuring grew louder, and the conversation was audible.

"I can't sense their exact location, so be careful."

"Ok."

“No thank you?"

The reply sounded disbelieving, even in its indifferent tone. "No."

"Hey, we're in this together right now." The low voice was sarcastic, and a little tired.

"Don't be a burden."

"Well," The conversation was now as clear as anything, the steps coming to a stop only a meter away. "Of course not. I'd say the same to you, little prince."

As soon as the last syllable fell, the hidden kidnappers felt an overwhelming aura rush at them before they were knocked to the ground, without having a chance to blink. Raphael slammed his sword inches away from a man's cheek, foot pressed down on his cheek, while Soren directly knocked him down with his chains, twisting around the now immobile body as he stared down coldly.

The originally nervous man underneath Soren shivered again. Under the scrutinizing icy eyes, it felt as if he were being judged by a reaper, ready to swallow his soul until nothing remained.

The kidnappers surrounding gulped, but moved to rush out when—

"Don't move." A soulless, chilling voice said, laced with undisguised threats.

The command from an absolute being couldn't be rejected. The kidnappers felt their body freeze, unable to be controlled by their own minds.

Raphael laughed lightly. "You're pretty scary."

Soren glanced at him in the corner of his eyes dismissively before tugging at the chains, while the man lurched forward to his knees. He lowered his eyes and asked,

"Where are the children?"

The man blabbered immediately. "T-they're in the furthest room, behind us!"

The man under Raphael scowled and hissed. "What the hell are you doing!"

"Well, I don't want to die, okay?!"

"You accepted this, so stick with it!"

"Even so...!"

"Quiet." ordered Soren, unamused as his eyes flickered over to the other man. "I'll let you die painfully, since you want it."

The man scoffed. "Hah, I'm terrified. Shaking in my boots, alright."

"..." There was a languid smile on the prince's pale lips. "If you're not, then don't be scared."

"I'd like to see how long you can stay that way."

"Hm?" Soren tilted his head, almost childishly.

The man, at that moment, couldn't help but feel shivers run up his bare arms just as his companion did. It was like being preyed on by a sleeping beast, one that's presence seemed mysterious and quiet until angered, and only then would it bare its fangs mercilessly.

If there was something to be said about Soren, it was that despite his lacking emotions; he was easily influenced. Unable to comprehend others, he subconsciously absorbed mannerisms at times.

Although he was dreadfully frightening, even as his own self.

But this time, there was a playful childishness, ever so faint but undoubtedly present in his words. They contained traces of youthful bloodlust and interest, similar to Brioc Laurier but smoother and flowing like a serene lake.

In a way, his calm bloodlust was much more terrifying than Brioc's roaring one.

Raphael had watched the battle between the two princes, and understood that much. However, that refined killing intent couldn't come from influence alone, but from experience. The protagonist knew that the best, with so many lives under his feet. Only, he never intended for it.

At that second, the hidden people lunged all at once.

Soren and Raphael's movements were instant. They lunged in the opposite directions, attacking the people behind each other, both moving subconsciously protecting the other person.

The group that jumped at Soren's back was mercilessly sliced by Raphael, groaning as they collapsed to their knees. Raphael grinned, spinning his neck around as they scrambled at him.

Krrrrsssssh—!

On the opposite side, Soren swung his chain in a beautiful arc across the air as if it were dancing, slamming a few to the ground. The two on the ground were still immobile, Raphael's captive held down by floating strands of magic, and Soren's captive didn’t dare to lift his head to attack.

The ten left were divided into six and four, four on Raphael's side, while the rest attacked Soren.

In their minds, it was easier to take down the weaker looking one. Although honestly, they weren't completely sure who was weaker.

Soren's aura was by no means swallowed by Raphael's, but at the same time, Raphael was equally domineering in a more wild sort of way.

Debris tossed in the air as Soren's whip swung around, raining the opponents in scars. He jumped as one reached out towards him, kicking them in the back as another lunged behind him.

Sssssss—

A pitch black needle-like object cut through the air at an inhumane speed, leaving a trail of blood as it flew by. The person who was about to jump Soren collapsed to the ground almost instantly, while Soren didn't blink.

"I had it." said the prince after a moment, dodging another attack while ruthlessly slamming his whip against another opponent.

Raphael laughed, slashing his sword at an attacker. "I know."

Suddenly, a group of the six attacking Soren pushed off against the ground, rushing at Raphael while Soren was distracted by the other four. His icy eyes flashed, and the chains soared through the air as he ducked, flipping backwards with one hand pressed against the wall. The whip circled around the attackers' legs, dragging them back.

"No tricks." said Soren calmly, twisting around as he tossed them at a wall.

Raphael's strange needles soared through the air right after, pinning them to the wall with ease. After some time, the kidnappers felt as if their pride was stepped on and then stepped on again, smeared against the ground. 

Weren't they twelve people? Yet how could these two so effortlessly beat them?

No, that wasn't the key question, thought a particular man as he swung his knife desperately. The real question was 'Why do they look as if they competing against each other, as if playing a game??'

It was a little pitiful, really.

After a while of back-and-forth fighting, Raphael stealing Soren's hits while the other did the same in petty vengeance, the kidnappers couldn't do anything but surrender. 

Soren looked at them in disappointment. He'd been hoping they'd put up a bigger fight, considering they had the courage to go against Damien like they did. "Are you sure?" He pointed to Raphael blankly. "I'll kick him out if you want."

One kidnapper wanted to cry. 'No, you're equally bad!'

A little reluctantly, Soren retracted his whip back into his arms with no reaction. Aside from the droplets of sweat that lightly brushed the side of his face, it was as if he weren't in a battle at all. The kidnappers' pride was damaged a little more. They were in a horrible state, littered with cuts and bruises while heavily panting. It was completely one-sided, this battle.

Soren glanced at the heap of bodies on the ground and directly stepped over them, while Raphael sent them a slightly pitiful look. It only served to damage their prides even more, though Raphael knew that.

The prince walked into the furthest room, away from cobwebs and rotting wood, before stopping at a low door, bending down slightly. His hands wrapped around the frame as he peered in. 

The fox tribe was not small, and the amount of children was many. Not to mention, it wasn't only fox children that had been kidnapped. 

Pale faces, gaunt cheeks — the sort of condition they had been living in was unimaginable. Dozens of thin, small bodies pressed in the dark room, the low sound of breathing vibrating in the air with the occasional whimper.

A few that were still conscious shrank back, away from Soren's piercing look, with a caution that shouldn't have to exist in a child's innocent gaze. 

Tap, tap.

Another hand gripped the top of the headboard, leaning down from behind Soren's snowy locks, gaze darkening at the sight. Raphael's lips drew into a thin line, a menacing silence in his eyes. It wasn't a scene he hadn't seen before — no, in these many lifetimes he had seen numerous deaths of both young and old.

Endless bodies fallen at his feet, countless lives he couldn't save. 

He closed his eyes, breathing softly. From the forty or so children in here, he could only sense the life of a quarter. As for the ones who were still breathing, he couldn't say how long they'd last. 

Starved, beaten and scared, trapped in a room filled with strangers who were helpless to act, and corpses that could've been their best friend or sibling. 

Soren glanced back, noticing the protagonist's presence behind him, watching his closed eyes that seemed to be in silent prayer. The man behind him was empathetic, the most vulnerable to death, yet also the most used to it. 

He said nothing, remaining still until Raphael opened his eyes again. 

"Leave if you don't want to look." said Soren momentarily, not quite out of care but because a person who was scared to witness this sight was not a person who could help him in this time. It was cold-hearted, but Soren's only intention at the moment was to save those who were still alive.

Raphael grinned, though it lacked the typical careless amusement that it normally did. "Something like this," said the protagonist slowly, "I won't look away from."

If one escaped from every emotional situation like this, then what would happen to them if they saw it again? It was impossible to look away a hundred times, so it was better to accept it the first time.

The past couldn't be changed. 

Soren regarded him calmly and turned around, stepping into the room carefully. His tone naturally lowered as he said, "I'm not friends with those other people."

"I will not hurt you. That, I promise."

Raphael smiled with a sigh, leaning against the door frame as Soren stepped in. "Relax, kids. He won't hurt you, and neither will I. We're here to save you."

A particular boy who seemed to be at the end of his ropes, looking no worse that the corpses stretched across the floor and a hoarse voice trembled. "You... misters, won't hurt us?"

It was so faint it could fade away in a single moment. Soren lowered his eyes, losing the firm iciness that they always seemed to have. The boy's ears drooped, a gruesome chunk ripped out at the edge while his tail curled around his body in a protective way, the remaining bits of fur the only thing that kept him warm at night. 

A fox child. If this had followed the story's timeline, even this boy would've been one of the many corpses, rotting away with the wood. 

They would've become Damien's greatest regret. 

If Soren had come earlier, he may have been able to save more of them. But in fact, that thought was wrong, so he didn't bother to think of it at all. Tonio wasn't foolish enough to stay in one place, and likely moved every several months. 

Not to mention, had Soren not taken part in the fighting ring, Atlas wouldn't have received his medicine in time. In this world, Soren only had himself to rely on, and to weigh the life of strangers or a person that the original would've died for — it was a difficult choice. 

Really, did he have a real say in that manner? As long as this body wasn't his own, there would be certain limitations he couldn't cross.

He could've informed Damien on the news, but was there any reason for that careful fox to believe in the words of a master that had only recently grown interesting? In this country, the one person who most didn't trust was Soren Rosenbaum, the failure of a prince. 

In fact, Raphael had also thought of a part of this. Even if he had grown colder over the years and gained an apathy that didn't exist previously, he couldn't help but think, 'What if I came sooner?'

Yet there were many variables why the prince came when he did.

Soren looked at the boy lightly. "We won't hurt you."

"We swear." continued Raphael, crouching down in front of the boy with a gentle smile, exclusive to children. "Can you trust me?"

Soren watched him, unmoving. After all, he wasn't good at persuading people or knowing how to comfort children, even if he had a soft spot for them. 

Raphael opened his arms, his posture leaning back and lowered to not frighten them, while he didn't make any sudden movement towards them. He simple crouched down, arms wide and patiently waited. 

The boy hesitated, eyes flickering back and forth as he seemed to search for any signs of deception before tears quickly sprung down his face. They rolled down in a steady stream, and the willpower that he had relied on in order to stay alive to this point collapsed in a moment.

In this silent room of corpses and dying children, the boy was the only one who could still keep a sense of conscious, speaking up for all the children, those gone and still existing. 

That was the sole task for this boy that survived for the sake of all those who didn't.

He quietly cried before his eyes grew heavy, drooping down as his body fell forwards. Raphael moved smoothly and caught him, feeling the weightless boy in his arms as he lowered his eyes. A tired yet somewhat peaceful sleeping face, still streaming with lonely tears.

"Good job, kid."