Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

“What happened here?”

The question came in a low, curious growl — as if questioning, yet angered at those who had harmed what they protected. An animal’s instinct, one could say. The teenager’s eyes flashed a deep-set emerald, wandering across the scene of strewn bodies with eerie calm.

The four that had fought were sitting on the ground, panting. Assassins had flown around them, almost never-ending, each skilled in their own right to put up a reasonable battle.

Raphael had tied the survivors together with rope he had gotten from who knows where, making a knot so tight he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get it off later.

Damien glanced at Soren, splatters of red across his pale visage. “Master, are you injured?”

“No,” said Soren casually, earning an irritated glance from a certain protagonist.

“What ridiculous lies are you saying now?”

“I don’t lie.”

Raphael stared at him judgingly for a moment longer before turning to Damien. “This foolish master of yours has a few nicks and bruises. It’s not extreme, but it’s not as if he’s unharmed.” His eyes darkened as his gaze flickered over to the prince. “Although somebody seems to purposely like risking his life, a few injuries should be a blessing.”

Soren stared back indifferently. “It’s not risking my life.”

Now that Raphael had discovered his secret, the prince spoke about it rather casually.

“Alright,” agreed Raphael. “It is utterly disregarding your own body.”

“That’s too dramatic.”

“And your actions aren’t?”

Brioc, who had been sprawled out on the floor in a starfish position — less from exhaustion, but more for comfort — raised his head slightly to peek over. “Hold on. Renren, did you expose your little secret to Raphy~?”

There was a familiar glint in his eyes, and Soren narrowed his eyes. “It was an unfortunate accident.”

“...unfortunate?” interjected Raphael, surprised enough at Brioc’s words. Didn’t this mean… he was the last one to discover this secret?

“I didn’t mean to have you know. But you got in the way.”

“.....” Raphael sighed, another ‘little prince headache’ seemed to be on the way. “You were bleeding on the floor, dying.”

“I was going to take a short nap.”

“A willing one?”

“I’m always willing to sleep.” was the shameless response that left those impassive lips. It was as if he didn't vividly remember Raphael’s tears that dripped with sorrowful worry on his cheeks, or the commanding words of self-care he had told Soren.

But he did.

He always would. Even if there came a day where he were to part from this person’s side. He would remember, always.

Raphael seemed to notice Soren’s drifting mind and laughed helplessly. “Whatever you say, little prince.”

Damien observed quietly before saying, “We’ve found the location of the Forest nearby.”

“Oh~ did you, Miemie?”

The calm fox was unfazed, as if the nickname had gone over his head. “That’s correct.”

“.....” Brioc felt inexplicable disappointment in his heart — this sort of indifferent reaction was so cold, so boring. Even the prince had given him some sort of disgust.

Alvara glanced at him, noticing the flickers of disappointment. “...don’t tell me, you’re upset that Damien had no reaction to your nickname?”

“You read my heart so well.”

“...it’s pretty obvious,” said the girl with a strange look. “I really don’t get it.”

“You just wouldn’t understand, Alvy…!”

“I don’t want to?”

“Well,” continued Brioc without care. “I suppose I can try to explain the depth of my disappointment since you’re so worried— “

He stopped midway, staring at Alvara who had shifted closer to Damien as if the fox would be a good wall to protect her from Brioc’s nonsense. She wasn’t wrong — Brioc, staring into that boy’s uncaring expression that wasn’t fun to tease in the slightest, lost his mood.

The fox had a pretty face, but a hard to penetrate personality. In other words, not Brioc’s type, thought the magician sullenly.

Damien glanced to his side and tilted his head, his ears swaying with his movement as strands of black brushed his face. “Are you using my as a shield?””

Alvara paused. “I’d call it, using you to best protect everybody’s ears. It’s a sacrifice.”

“You’re sacrificing me?”

“....well. You’re not wrong. But...” said Alvara in the jumble of her thoughts. No matter how she tried, she didn’t think she’d be able to get out of this topic without saying more mildly insulting things. Not that Damien would likely care, but even so. “Let’s talk about the Forest.”

The change in topic was so abrupt and obvious, Damien laughed faintly.

“I’ve found information regarding the Forest’s entrance nearby.”

“Who told you?” asked Brioc curiously, peeking over.

Damien stared back. “Do you think I’d reveal my sources?”

“Oh, true.” said Brioc back with a blink, having forgotten the identity of this Fox Leader, one who had access to connections all over the continent. Pretty amazing.

“Let’s go.” said Raphael, pushing off his knees to stand up, already having regained his stamina. He carefully pulled up a certain lazy prince who sat on the ground and nodded to Damien. “Lead the way, kid.”

“Are you feeling alright for the next events, El?” wondered Vendra who had already crouched beside the exhausted saint. “Do rest, if you feel unwell.”

Damien’s gaze fell over the injuries. “Do you particularly want to go to the Forest?”

Vendra blinked and shook her head. Celine shrugged. “I’m perfectly fine to, but it’s not as if I absolutely must go.”

“If you have nothing to find in the Forest, then there is no need to go.”

“Finding means what exactly?” asked Alvara tentatively.

“If you’re searching for yourself, a lost memory,” his eyes trailed over to Soren. “Missing items, answers, then the Forest may benefit you. But if not, then there is no need to go.”

After that, the group fell into a thinking silence.

Finally, both Vendra and Celine had decided to stay behind — lest something happen, they would be able to take care of it. The rest decided to go, what they each sought specifically, unknown.

The entrance was subtle — as most things seemed to be. In fact, it seemed as if Damien were lying and the two tall trees that stood were anything but special. Delicate and common flowers decorated the floors, mixed with specks of green.

Before Brioc could make a teasing comment, the fox didn’t hesitate to step through.

There seemed to be a blur in reality, a flicker of colour that outlined the area his hand pushed through, before he disappeared completely, leaving the tip of a swaying tail before that too vanished.

No hesitation existed on the remaining side, as they all quickly pushed through the illusion, falling into an empty space.

They stood on what seemed to be glass, warping and twisting with images that couldn’t be made out, even if one were to intently devote their attention. It was a corridor without walls, swirls of various colours dancing in the empty air, sprinkled with starlight.

A galaxy, one could call it, with the mixes of memories that could’ve belonged to any one of them. Yet the twisting images that floated in the air were almost morbid, threatening. They felt dangerous.

Along the corridor, held up by empty space, unique and beautiful doors decorated the area. Each had its own aura, its own personality, beckoning a specific person to open it and enter.

‘This is the Corridor of Judgement.’

The voice echoed in everyone’s air, almost like a whisper, like an illusion. It carried mysterious allure and a tone that couldn’t be called human, with a robotic tinge that somehow still seemed to carry life.

‘Where good and bad are divided.’

The stars in the galaxy suddenly dropped down, becoming a blur of vision at their impossible speed as they came crashing into the endless void below. Violent cracks ran along the floor as everything trembled in its horror.

It seemed to be separated into many pieces, dragging a single person along with it. Soon, they were all divided.

‘You cannot hide from the Judgement.’

The chaos stopped suddenly.

The world was silent, stifling, and stagnant. It was as if time had been frozen for everything but them. Eerie and chilling, the air was, in this space of time that was neither past nor present.

Brioc had been the first to break the silence, although the strange air had also affected him. “This… definitely doesn’t look like a forest.”

Damien, standing in front of an obsidian door, solid and seemingly plain if not for the intricate designs that ran along its border, nodded quietly. “They are referred to as ‘Forests’ in name, but this is located elsewhere.”

Brioc frowned slightly. “Where exactly?”

“Do you think anybody could name this place?” was the reply of the fox, questioning and curious. During the conversation, his eyes wandered from door to door, taking in every detail and design.

They settled on a pair that were strangely similar, yet worlds apart.

An oaken door, dyed in the deepest night as its vines intertwined with the slender border. Rounded leaves poked out from the twisting lines that, for its ominous colour, gave off the illusion of a starry night sky, warm and forgiving.

Across from the door was another oaken door. Only, this was coloured in the cloudy skies, like freshly fallen snow that had been untouched. The leaves that protruded, delicate sapphire, were jagged and sharp, promising injury for those who touched them.

The more Damien stared, he seemed to see the flickering of deep red painted on those leaves.

He was quite curious. “Do you resonate with the door before you, master?” His voice carried across the never ending corridor of doors.

Soren’s fingers grazed the leaves lightly, distracted. “Yeah.”

Then, those melancholic ice eyes drifted across the space, settling into a deeper thought as the similar looking door entered their vision. Raphael too, had noticed the other’s design, which was a striking contrast to his own.

So close, but so different.

It could be said that described their dynamic as well.

“When you enter, you cannot leave again.” explained Damien as his hand rested over the handle of his own metallic door. “Not until you have reached the final judgement.”

Alvara swallowed. Before her was a torn-down door that was streaked with grim and dirt — a familiar sight. Blooming crimson flowers crept up the end, covering the crumbling material with its strength.

“What if… we don’t reach it?” There was a sudden uncertainty in her voice, brought upon by the sudden realization of separation.

Damien’s tone was cold. “Then you will remain wandering until you do.”

There was no probing question from the fox, teasing and mysterious. Only the cruel and plain truth remained. This wasn’t something to be roundabout in the end.

“I see…”

“Scared, Alvy~?” said Brioc loudly from where he stood in his usual laughing expression. Yet in his violet eyes were reflected a beautiful door that reeked of royal elegance, golden designs wrapping around the edges.

The door of his room, long ago.

His expression was a little complicated as he hesitated to touch the handle.

“No point in wasting time,” said a magnetic voice in its convincing allure. Raphael smiled confidently as he twisted the door open. “Worrying will only hold you back. We’re here already. There’s no turning back. Might as well step forward, don’t you think?”

Alvara laughed. “You’re really confident.”

“Of course. What else should I be?”

The protagonist’s unrestrained arrogance lightened the tension that had draped over everyone earlier. Raphael had no need to be worried — he’d faced many things, and eventually learned that fear did not lead to anything.

It was something easy to understand in words, but hard to apply to reality.

“Well,” his eyes passed every person, finally resting on Soren. “I’ll see you later.”

Raphael stepped through.

Damien and Alvara had followed next, simultaneously, after watching Raphael’s unhesitant actions. Whatever awaited them beyond the door, it didn’t matter.

The remaining two lingered behind for moments longer.

Not so surprisingly, Brioc spoke. “Aren’t you going in, Renren~? The answers you want so desperately are in there.”

“I know.”

The magician watched the prince’s slight movements before turning back to his own door, a wry smile playing on his lips. “You know, Renren, there’s nothing really I’m looking for. But, if there’s a chance to face my memories from that time, long ago, I want to face it. Properly, this time.”

He felt the heat of a gaze on his back and grinned. “I want to stop running away from him. I think avoiding the memories all this time was probably more tiring.”

A slender hand pushed the door open abruptly. “It’s a little daunting though, haha~ this is why fights are so much better than these mysterious things. I’m off, see you, Renren~”

And people in the corridor became one.

In a sense, this undying reaper who seemed to have few thoughts and emotions, may have been the most cowardly at such times. When faced with the thing he wanted, it was natural for him to reach and out grab it with no hesitation.

Well, he didn’t feel as if this strange sensation that stirred in him was hesitation. It was difficult to describe, unsettling yet prepared. For whatever he might see.

The emotions of the original had wriggled in his consciousness, and Soren was certain that memories that were not his own, would come to light soon.

He slowly opened the door, peering at the void that awaited him.

He wasn’t sure what the others saw — whether it be this identical vortex, or a world that only they knew. Though perhaps, for Ren Suzuki, this was indeed a world he knew well.

The body fell forward, tossing into the space below as the loud echo of a slamming door sounded high above him, wind blowing past his tangles of snowy locks. Endless falling, as if this were to be his only task.

To fall for all eternity with the thing he longed for waiting at an impossible end.

“What— !”

Soren slammed into another person, eliciting a deep groan from the other, knocked over by the unprepared visit. His hands scrambled for purchase as he frowned, pressing against a familiar warmth.

The man stilled from where he was sprawled, hands clumsily pushing his body up as the person on the ground peered at him through the pain. Abyssal eyes that much reminded him of the vortex he had just been in stared right at him.

“What’re you doing, Ren?”

Soren’s eyebrows furrowed. “...I don’t know.”

Raphael chuckled under the weight, raising a brow. “Then I don’t think I’d know either.”

His coarse hands lingered at Soren’s legs which hung at Raphael’s sides, and the protagonist glanced over before looking at the prince. However, he did not make any remark regarding their position.

“I guess this works out well. I was a little worried about you, in all honesty. Who knows what sort of trouble you’d get yourself into?” he said lightly, though his tone was serious.

“Worried? Why?”

“I worry, Ren.” Raphael’s gaze was sometimes too honest for Soren to bear. “You are hopelessly reckless and irresponsible with your own life, and manage to find trouble when you’d like to avoid it the most. Do you think I wouldn’t worry, watching such a troublemaker?”

Soren was quiet. Although Raphael’s words seemed gentle, why was it that they always seemed inexplicably backhanded?

Studying the conflicted expression, Raphael chuckled, the vibrations on his chest echoing through Soren. “Since you’re here, let’s explore together?”

The smile of that man seemed to put Soren in a daze, especially at moments where the only thing that existed was Raphael. “Oka…”

A violent tremor broke out once again, rippling through the space. The scene was flickering and changing, rocky grounds forming below their feet as a deadly cliff was carved out of nothing. The skies transformed into a blur of purple and blue swirls.

Soren recognized this world the instant Raphael did. The world that had been well described in the original novel, a place that left a deep impression on Raphael.

It was the first world Raphael could remember.

Although it had been a tragedy, the first to stain the protagonist’s unyielding will, Raphael had also made many friendships, unaware of the predestined collapse of reality.

If this was the world, then the rumbling shouldn’t be from the Forest, but from within old memories.

It was when wisps of misshapen creatures flew across the sky, swooping down threateningly, that Soren became certain. He jumped off Raphael’s chest, chain striking through the mass of broken-winged creatures in a single swipe.

Raphael sliced through the ones that had been overlooked, a deep impression on his face. “This is…”

More and more creatures had started to prowl the cliffs. It was hard to say if this was a simple illusion, or a realistic replay of memories. That wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t quite right either.

The next actions happened quickly — less because of speed, and more because of the confusion the actions brought.

“Come, End!” shouted Soren as everything shook, causing Raphael to snap his head over.

Soren looked squarely at the protagonist. “You’ll make it to the end, so use your memories to your advantage.”

Something else was creeping into the shaking sky, swirls of darkness. Soren scowled as he swiped at another row of broken mist. ‘End’ was the name of the creature that had saved Raphael’s life several times, a magnificent beast that had a vague, constantly changing appearance.

The man had treasured the strange creature that stayed by his side in that new world of his, but the creature had also caused the destruction of that land.

The prince, as the tears broke through the skies, spun around to where Raphael stood. “Raphael,” said Soren, voice almost lost in the chaos as his hands raised. “Stay alive.”

And before the protagonist could say a word, a push at his chest sent him tumbling off the cliff. Soren’s face grew more distant as Raphael watched wide-eyed, as the skies broke apart, reaching out for the sole victim that remained.

A rush of wind blew at his back, and suddenly he was no longer free-falling, placed on a long-lost comrade. 

Raphael's gaze remained on the top, dancing with emotion. Yet, in his overwhelming worry, a single thought remained prominent.

How had the prince known the existence of ‘End’?