Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

The Rosenbaum family.

Heir to the Qazia Kingdom. Among the four kingdoms, they excelled in strength and military power, making them have a firm standing.

Loyal to the Empire, for the most part. The King cared little for minor matters and only interfered when ordered.

Within the family, were five princes.

The eldest, Vincent, the strongest knight and most likely contender for the throne.

The second, Deimos, a mystery that was vaguely mentioned in the novel.

The third, Erlen, who cared more for commoners than nobility, and longed to free himself from the royal shackles that bound him.

The fourth, Atlas, who was a genius that fell from his podium many years earlier.

And finally, the fifth, Soren. A prince not even worth mentioning, lest you stir the disgust of those surrounding.

They shared a relationship by blood, but other than at the dinner table or at meetings, they didn't get along with each other.

Soren was specifically avoided.

The current Soren had few memories from the original, though most were hazy and unclear.

Unfortunately for that fool, he never understood his brother's hatred to him until the very end.

Since they were aloof to each other to begin with, he though they still treated him as family.

Even though anybody with eyes could've seen otherwise.

Better for him, anyway. If the princes avoided him, that could only be seen as a good thing. His plans for the upcoming future would undoubtedly stir a lot of trouble if somebody found out.

It also saved him the trouble of having to get along with these siblings of his.

Soren followed Damien to the dining hall calmly, his expression indifferent.

Damien glanced at him.

"Master, will you be eating at the dining hall from now on?" he asked, not out of genuine worry, but curiosity.

Damien, with his discerning eyes, could clearly see the relationship between the princes.

Soren looked at him lightly. "Of course. Where else would I eat?"

The teenager observed him and stepped aside, watching as Soren stepped through the doors. Damien wondered what exactly this young master of his was planning to do.

Ignoring the glaring eyes on him, Soren moved to the empty seat at the table, besides Vincent.

He sat down and shuffled his chair a few centimetres away.

Vincent looked at the chair, and then at Soren, who shrugged. Who told them to put the chairs so close? Even if it was Soren, he had the decency to stay away from people who didn't like him... well, that was a lie.

He just didn't like Vincent much, either.

"Soren." the King said. "It's been a while since you've eaten with us."

Soren nodded politely, but said nothing. The King cared little for his sons, so this sort of greeting meant little. Even if the King gave his sons the materials they needed to survive, he didn't pay any other attention.

The King didn’t treat them poorly, yet he seemed to be indifferent. Another complicated character, one Soren didn't bother trying to understand.

"Tired of playing around?" a mocking voice said from across the table.

Soren lifted his eyes to look at Erlen, the most hostile one out of them all. His amber eyes gleamed wildly, adding to his charming, yet rugged sort of look.

"Mm." he replied casually, moving to eat.

"Or, did you spend all your money already?"

"If you're so interested in my affairs," Soren started, swallowing a piece of steak in front of him. "You need only ask. No need to be vague."

"What—"

"Or are you seeking my connections to find a partner for the night? No worries, I'm sure I can find one to match your issues." he said kindly, despite the vulgar words coming out of his lips.

Erlen scowled. "You...!

"Silence!" Vincent ordered, the room falling quiet.

Erlen growled and started to eat, while Soren calmly continued to chew.

Deimos' mint-coloured eyes lingered on Soren, laced with a hint of amusement, as he looked up from behind his golden hair. Soren, of course, felt the lingering gaze.

But he ignored it.

There was no need to figure Deimos' character out, so he wouldn't do it.

For the rest of the meal, the table remained quiet, much to Soren's delight. Eating was much better in peace, especially since the food tasted spectacular.

The meals during the apocalypse had been bleak and sparse, slowly turning into a faint memory of the past. If Soren still had his own body, the food might've gone right back up after eating such luxury for the first time in a while.

Thankfully, it wasn't his body.

He took his time to savour the dishes, ignoring the occasional talk of business between the others. When he finished, he patted his stomach and placed the fork down.

"Your majesty." he said, earning a surprised look from the King.

"Yes?"

"I need money."

The original had used every drop in his savings dry, and would often beg for money. If Soren won the fight, he could earn his own sum, but he needed enough to go to the auction first.

The items he wanted were unknown and didn't stand out — the hidden pieces of the auction that the protagonist had discovered later on in the story. However, even unpopular items started off at a relatively high price, though Soren's regular allowance could cover it.

"Ha! I knew you came down for a reason." Erlen sneered in disgust.

The King, however, looked at Soren oddly. "You've used up your amount for the month?"

"I have."

"How much do you need?"

“My monthly amount."

The King asked, "What is it for?"

Soren said calmly, "Personal matters."

"Why bother to ask?" Erlen scowled, crossing his arms. “We all know what it's for."

"Erlen." The King warned, shooting him a look before turning back to Soren. "Is it important?"

His tone was crisp and had often frightened the original host. It was probing, searching for weaknesses and answers, unlike that of a Father. Anyway, Soren didn't need a Father right now, he needed money.

Soren said, "Yes."

Then he added, "If that's impossible, you can keep my allowance for next month. If I beg you for it, just remind me of what I said today. In the end, I cannot disobey an order from the King."

Polite, concise and free of any hesitation.

The King narrowed his eyes; this son of his had clearly changed. Even if the Rosenbaum family weren't close, they knew each other better than most others. How could they not, when they lived under the same roof for so long?

"I understand. I will have somebody give it to you later."

"Father." Vincent interrupted. "I don’t believe that is a wise idea."

"I agree with the eldest for once! It'll just put another hole in our treasury." said Erlen.

Deimos just kept eating, his eyes watching the show, but lips remaining silent. Better for Soren; too many people speaking gave him a headache.

"Thank you, your majesty." replied Soren calmly, ignoring the remarks of Vincent and Erlen.

It wasn't as if their words made no sense — even Soren himself wouldn't have given money to the original — but the point was; he needed the money right now. Taking others’ emotions into consideration wasn’t a skill he ever learned.

He stood up and nodded briefly. "I will return to my room now." Then, just as he reached the door, he remembered, "My compliments to the chef. It was delicious, thank you."

Praise should be given when seen fit.

Soren believed in that, so he didn't hesitate to thank the chef. It didn't matter if it was out of character for the original, he would follow his own morals first.

As expected, once he left the room, all pairs of eyes stared at him with surprise.

The prideful youngest prince who’d they grown up with, did he really just say 'thank you'?

"Is this a new act?" wondered Erlen suspiciously.

Deimos shook his head. “That doesn’t seem to be the case."

Vincent hesitated. "I am not entirely sure."

"Ha! He won't be able to keep it up for long, it's too against his character!"

Deimos glanced at the door thoughtfully. "I wouldn't be too sure about that."

"Father, will you give him the money?" Vincent asked solemnly.

Vincent knew well about palace matters, and while they weren't poor, he didn't agree to giving a large sum to his youngest sibling, who often spent it on alcohol and women.

Even if Soren seemed a little different, this was another matter.

"Didn't he say?" said the King with a calm expression. "He doesn't need any money next month. If he thoughtlessly spends it again, he will face the repercussions."

"That... yes I suppose you're right."

Vincent frowned, staring at the seat which had been tightly pushed in beside him. A change of addressing him, a colder attitude, the minor differences all added up. 

Currently, all the royals on the table had a similar thought: 'What exactly is Soren trying to do?'

Their respect for him had disappeared long ago, and only suspicion remained.

Well, Soren knew that well enough, and cared too little. Trying to regain trust that had withered away over the course of eighteen years was a gruelling task, one that Soren did not need to complete, and one he would not.

"Damien." Soren called out after entering his room, watching the teenager appear before him silently.

"Yes, master?" replied the boy obediently.

Soren said, "Do you know of the fox tribe?"

There was no hesitation in the boy’s Damien’s eyes. "Yes, of course."

"Then, do you know their contact point?"

"I have heard rumours." Damien replied calmly, as if it had nothing to do with him. “Do you need something from them, master?"

"Send in a request under my name."

Damien's eyes flashed. "A request?"

"Yes. I've gotten bored with playing around, so I'm looking to go on a vacation soon. However, I don't want to run into any trouble since it'll be bothersome later. Request a complete investigation of the areas listed on this paper." Soren lazily grabbed a scrap of paper from the table, hastily scribbling down the names of a few places.

If the investigation followed through properly, the slave trade would be discovered.

Although Soren knew the information that he would receive already: [The areas are perfectly clear.]

Tonio, that unreasonable bastard, would definitely choose to lie to Soren. After all, Soren's reputation as a lazy, idiotic prince was not unknown, so what could go wrong?

Tonio’s thoughts wouldn’t be wrong, had it been the original.

"Why these places, specifically, master? If you don't mind me asking."

Soren lifted his gaze with a half-hearted smile. This youth, so good at playing polite, while also being casual and probing at the same time. "Am I required to answer you, Damien?"

"No, of course not, master." said Damien through his dense lashes, emerald eyes dark.

Obedient and polite at the surface, calculating and cold-hearted inside. After Raphael, Damien was the second person he did not want to get involved with more than necessary.

Frankly, none of the characters in the novel weren't troublesome to be involved with. Damien was more complicated because he didn't stand on a single side. He followed Raphael because he was curious of the man's strength, but also refused requests at random.

His only motivation for denying or rejecting was his interest.

If one asked him to kill a village of innocent people, he could do it with ease. However, if there was no benefit to him and he thought it was boring, he would not.

One couldn't call him good or bad, moral or immoral. He was loyal, but he also wasn't. He was cruel, but he was also kind. This sort of contradictory character was always an unstable factor to any equation.

'Good luck, Raphael.'

Soren silently lit a candle in his heart. Even the protagonist would have trouble reigning in that volatile fox.

Damien had been disappointed in humans because of Soren, and had slightly negative feelings. After seeing Soren's change, he grew interested and had slightly positive feelings. Though those feelings meant little, it was enough.

Enough to keep from Damien messing around with him too much, without being protective.

"Leave. I'm going to sleep." Soren waved his hand, and Damien nodded, closing the door quietly.

Soren sighed.

'Freedom, at last.'

Two minutes later, a knock came from his door.

'......'

"Come in." Soren said, not bothering to sit up as he turned his head from the sinking mattress leisurely.

A tall shadow entered his room, and Soren made out his bright mint-eyes and silky hair spun from the purest gold. Their eyes were stern, but carried a sense of gentleness that saw through everything.

Soren's eyes narrowed. "Prince Deimos."

"Little brother." Deimos replied with a tired smile.

Soren was vigilant. The novel centered on the protagonist and there was little to know about Soren who had died at the very beginning. However, he could gauge Erlen and Vincent's personalities from their parts in the novel, but Deimos... he was a mystery.

The second prince who was almost never seen, why would he enter his chambers at night?

Although Soren remembered one thing: Deimos had been the one who grieved the most for Atlas' death, and one of the few scenes where he appeared was when Raphael went with Vincent to visit the fourth prince's grave.

Only, Deimos carried two flowers. 

"Is there something you need, Prince Deimos?" inquired Soren politely, with a chilling coldness that Deimos could easily sense.

Deimos looked at him lightly and asked, "The money. Do you plan to go to the auction?"

"If I do, is it of any business to you?"

How Deimos guessed correctly, only God would know. Soren didn't bother on the details — most likely, Deimos had a wide range of connections.

In the novel too, even when Raphael sought the second prince out, he remained hidden. To hide from the protagonist — now wasn't that quite the ability?

Deimos stared at him quietly before he said, "The auction is dangerous. It's legal, but there are many back door deals, and some nobles will do anything to get what they want. The moment you step out of the building, anything can happen."

"I know."

Deimos looked surprised. "What?"

"No matter how good a system is, some will not follow. If you can kill somebody to get what you want, isn't that easier than bidding?"

Soren's tone contained no warmth, as if he were talking about something insignificant.

"...who will you bring with you?"

"What's the point of this?" asked Soren, lazily propping his body up with a deep gaze. "Are you trying to play family at this point in time?"

He felt a bubbling feeling in his chest, a sense of helplessness and joy. At that moment, Soren knew.

He was feeling the emotions of the original.

The Soren who had wanted to get along with his brothers more than anything, despite his notorious behavior. Drinking, playing around was an excuse to escape reality. The reality that he was despised.

But this feeling just irritated Soren.

'How trivial. Isn't it clear from the way you're treated at the dining hall that getting along is a foolish dream?'

Certainly, from the few memories Soren had from the original, he knew Deimos was not like the other two, and he didn't treat Soren with disdain, either.

Though he was hardly around.

Deimos' expression twisted, a mixture of pain and sorrow.

Soren had sat up completely by then, legs pressed over the edge as he stared fixedly into the other's mint eyes. "Perhaps I wanted that before, but I'm done with it. I have other things to do. Thank you for the warning, Second Prince."

He wouldn't treat the prince with disrespect, as he had indeed been the kindest to the original, but this wasn't his relationship to experiment with. 

The second prince was already too late.

Deimos sighed and said, "If you need any help, ask the bar owner near the merchant guild. That is the fastest way to contact me."

He stepped forward and handed Soren a golden badge before turning around to leave.

"I have..." he started suddenly, voice filling the silent room. "No, never mind. Good night, little brother."

The door closed shut.

Soren sighed deeply, letting his body fall back onto the soft blankets. A brother who hated him was easy to deal with, but one that had some feelings for him was bothersome.

The key problem was: wasn't Deimos doing this just because Soren was his brother in name?

A person could call their best friend a brother, so long as the emotions fit. A half-hearted obligation from titles or blood-bonds mattered little and held even less meaning compared to an emotional bond.

'Ah, so troublesome.'

The faint, itching emotions from the original's memories remained, but Soren pushed them aside. 

'I can help you save your fourth brother, but I will not force myself to repair these broken relationships, Soren.'