Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

—-—xxx—-—

It was difficult for somebody to integrate into another's life so deeply that their disappearance could cause such ripples in the atmosphere. Yet it was incredibly easy for them to leave and never be seen again.

Friendships came and went, and relationships weren't destined to last for eternity.

So was the tragic truth of life.

Alvara, amidst the silence, had quietly asked Damien, "...honestly, what are you feeling right now?"

His answer was honest. "I had expected such an outcome."

"Aren't you lonely?"

"Why do you think I'd be?"

They lingered at the back of the group, lost in their own thoughts as they walked. The two teenagers had seen much in their short lives, and had a mature view. But perhaps it was also their youth that made it more difficult for them to pretend it was okay. 

At the very least, Alvara wasn't able to accept the sudden parting so easily. 

"...it's like this. I've only just found a place I can belong, and it seems to be fading from my grasp already. I... don't wish for this friendship to disappear." said the necromancer, who had survived many years in her own solitude. 

Damien's forest gaze, piercing as it always was, trailed over to her in silence. Finally, he repeated, "I expected the outcome. But I didn't desire it."

There was a faraway look mixed into the swirls of curious green and Alvara regarded him silently, as if watching for his every expression. 

"For what reason do you think I kept Sage by my side?"

A person who assumed they knew this cold-hearted leader of the Fox Tribe would easily say, because you wanted to observe him.

Contrary to what he expected, Alvara said with such blunt honesty that Damien was startled. "You hoped he wouldn't betray you, didn't you, Damien?"

He said nothing as he continued to walk, and Alvara didn't speak. The silent confirmation hung between to them in a natural peace. 

In fact, the silence was unsettling. Nobody spoke, as if at some random point an especially annoying voice would break the painful stillness, and everybody would suddenly scowl and laugh. 

But the voice never came, and the quiet remained.

When they finally arrived in the center of the forest, a single, broken building remained in the center. It was lonely, surrounded by rows of trees as it sat alone. The only reason they had arrived to easily becase the fresh memories of this place burned vividly in two people's mind.

Soren swallowed. He'd faced his past in several illusions, but never in reality like this. 

However this forest existed, it seemed to be connected to the same library Ren Suzuki frequented in the past. A place where memories were created, lost, and found again.

Raphael waited patiently after seeing Soren had stopped. If this little prince needed time, then he would wait however long it took. He nodded at the others to stop as well before returning his attention to Soren.

The place where it had begun in this world, and where he'd met the one person who completely changed his life. The place where the original had died, alone and peacefully as the flowing traces of hope had finally been snuffed out.

Of beginning and end.

"Ren." said Raphael softly. "Whatever fears you have, of the unknown, of the possible tragedies that may remain, it'll be alright. As long as you need me, I'll remain at your side."

"Promise?"

Raphael paused and then chuckled lightly. "Have you been getting more clingy recently?"

Rather than that, it was that Soren's unbreakable walls had revealed a gap of light, and allowed Raphael to step between them to reveal the crying boy within. However, light-hearted teasing was indeed best in the situation.

Soren scowled. "You're getting arrogant."

"Don't you appreciate my voice?"

"You sound nicer when you're silent."

"You think I sound nice?" replied Raphael shamelessly, completely ignoring Soren's words and instead painting the other in disbelief and confusion. 

Celine rolled her eyes, unable to endure. "Alright, stop bulling our innocent prince."

Alvara glanced at Soren and quickly defended, "He's not innocent, just... an uneducated? No, no, that's not what I mean. He's just bad with people. What were we talking about again?"

"Is 'dense' the word you were looking for?" offered Damien politely.

"Yes! Wait, no."

Soren, "....."

At what point did this tense atmosphere turn into an 'insult the prince' time?

He spun his head around to stare at Vincent, who blinked in surprise at Soren's sudden attention. "Is something the matter, Soren?"

"Want redemption?"

"...yes?"

"Go. Say something."

Vincent frowned, furrowing his brows. Just when everybody thought he'd say nothing, he slowly said, "Raphael... is scared of spiders."

Raphael paused, then squinted at Vincent. "Excuse me? Why are you suddenly dragging me through the mud, Vin? What is our friendship to you?"

"...in order to change the topic, it is necessary to bring up a new topic of interest."

"....."

In other words, Vincent had spent so long thinking in order to dig up dirt on Raphael in his mind? Really? Not to mention, the method of helping Soren was... really too clumsy.

Soren also stared at Vincent and shook his head. "Useless." 

"...?" Vincent's frown deepened, and he offered another secret, "Raphael is also scared of—"

"Stop, stop, stop." Raphael held up a hand to prevent anymore secrets being revealed in front of everybody. 

Vendra laughed lightly, her eyes curving into a gentle smile. "There is nothing wrong in fearing things, Raphael."

"Of course not." said Raphael in complaint. "The issue is with my close friend revealing all my fears without consulting me first, in order to dote on his younger brother."

The protagonist turned to Soren and said in a serious tone, "Whatever you want to know, I'll tell you first."

"Promise?"

Unknowingly, the conversation had gone in a cycle back to the original question. Because even if laughter and teasing could be a distraction, they could never erase the fears in Soren's heart. Although it was for a different reason, Soren had posed the same question.

Raphael's expression softened. "I promise, Ren. Don't you trust me?"

Soren's answer was immediate. "I do."

The prince took a steady breath, closing their snowy lashes gently as they readied themself. They could temporarily prolong this distraction, but the room ahead would always await. There was no hiding from truth.

"Are you ready, master?" asked Damien on the side curiously.

Soren opened his eyes with a new calm glazed over the icy cold. "Yeah."

And so, he stepped forward. 

A dusty scent penetrated the air, and the low creaking of broken floorboards was loud. Familiar cracks lined the window edges as rows of books surrounded at a further area. 

The place Soren had awoken in was a dark area, hidden from sight. It was located near the front, away from the nostalgic shelves.

"Over there." said Damien as he stared at an open book at the very depths of the room. 

Soren's eyes trailed over, and he paused. Beside one of the old shelves were piles of books stacked tall, making a small circle where a single person could sit in the middle. Except, the circle was broken at the side, leaving a gap for somebody to sit beside.

Then he saw it, the book that laid open face in the center.

Several emotions swirled in his stomach, making him queasy yet excited, fearful yet hopeful. When he thought he may not be able to take another step, a light push at his back made him stumble forwards. 

Raphael grinned. "You can't be getting cold feet now, Ren."

Soren glanced at him with a frown before striding to the book in careful steps. The feeling of the paper on his fingers felt foreign and strange.

He'd always been curious about the ending of this story. Even back in the apocalypse, when all it had been was a novel he read.

The protagonist had long walked over, absorbing the words on the page with chilling calmness. Then, for all the others to hear, he opened his mouth to read.

"The Transmigrator's Last World."

 

—-—xxx—-—

 

In another world, and another time, a particular prince died. Alone in a place where he couldn't be easily found, he died believing his death was insignificant and wanted.

Only, he was wrong.

For his death caused ripples across three powerful figures in his kingdom, directly changing their actions and their roles in the story.

It was a sunny day, bright and forgiving, when a messenger ran into the castle with news that was unlike the warm weather. Sweat dripping down his face from the heat, and an expression of fluster that could only carry tragedy.

Three people gathered together at that time, a rare meeting between all of them. Yet there was an empty spot where a fourth should've been. 

The crown prince frowned at him. 

"What is it?"

The caring second prince offered him a handkerchief with a smile. "Here, calm down first."

The explosive third prince scowled. "Well, out with it."

The messenger huffed with a pale face and trembled. "I... I have news regarding the fifth prince, Soren Rosenbaum."

Erlen sighed in frustration, rolling his eyes. "And what trouble has he caused this time?"

Vincent also placed down the papers he was organizing and listened quietly. "What is the news?"

Deimos frowned. "Did something happen with our little brother?"

"I - I... I announce that the fifth prince of the Qazia Kingdom..."

He choked and hurriedly blurted out. "...has died."

The atmosphere immediately stilled, and suddenly the quiet was so piercing that the messenger thought he'd collapse on the spot. 

Everybody's expression had changed in a moment, as if this news of death that most thought would be insignificant were the news of something more important than life itself.

A push on the door had erupted the silence, as a man clad in black walked in, eyes narrowing at the scene in front of him. His dark eyes were observing, and he stopped as he attempted to understand what was happening. 

Finally, he turned to his close friend, whose expression had gone pale. "Vin. What happened?"

Vincent's lips trembled, but he didn't speak, until he finally answered in a shaky breath, "My youngest brother has died."

And in an instant, the man knew what had happened.

The outsider who knew the misunderstandings and the idiotic tension between the princes the most was him. Hadn't he listened to drunken ramblings on multiple occasions?

Not to mention... he'd been the one to bring the body back. 

That mutilated body. When he first saw it, and the quiet teenager beside who stared at it with such scorn, he suggested cruel methods of finding vengeance. He didn't care anymore; about the people or the world. 

Yet as he stared at the pale face that seemed to be peacefully sleeping, he decided against doing anything. 

The teenager said nothing to his choice, only telling him the method to leave the Forest before turning away. Raphael has stared at the corpse with confliction. Finally, he lifted the body in his arms, feeling the chill of death on his skin.

He carried the fifth prince's corpse and placed him against an alley where he'd soon be found. To leave him in a place where people rarely ventured, and even more rarely escaped, left a bad taste in his mouth. 

So the blackened protagonist decided, this was the least he could do.

Only, when he left the Forest and listened to the rumours in the town, he learned that the fifth prince had been missing for several weeks. Raphael was quick to put together his facts, with the rare appearance of that prince and the corpse he'd seen. 

Time in the Forest ran differently. For several weeks, had anybody searched for the missing man?

In fact, he decided to inform his new friend that he'd met frequently at a local bar about this information, but somebody had bet him to it.

Deimos looked the worse, shaking his head to himself as he collapsed to the ground. He trembled. "That is, no. There is no possibility. It couldn't be." muttered the second prince in a state of chaos. 

The mutters continued in stumbling words that were unlike the elegance the second often portrayed. But now, only regret and despair remained in his messy tangles of speech.

He had started to find the answers he was seeking after so many years. Deimos had been elated, now he could return instead of spending all his time travelling. Now he could carefully adore and love his brother whose relationship had unknowingly grown so far. 

He'd been too late.

But it was only after something was lost that one begun to regret.

The third prince was the calmest, truly having a terrible relationship with the fifth. However, his eyebrows furrowed deeply, and he left the room with a loud slam. It was unknown what thoughts ran through his mind. 

News that he had left the castle came, but nobody was in the right mind to care at that time.

After that day, all three had changed.

The first helped the protagonist in attempting to save the world later on, burying himself in work under piles of paper and numerous sleepless nights. When he closed his eyes, he thought he could see a pale, slender figure in the corner, silently staring at him with bleeding eyes.

It wasn't a nightmare, in his mind. It was the only opportunity to see his brother, who he'd neglected after so many years. 

Yet he couldn't sleep, knowing that the ghost of a person was awake. Unable to rest in peace, eternally.

For his little brother who never knew love, what right did Vincent have to be happy?

He became a shell of the proud and domineering crown prince that had once existed.

The second had been the calmest, and also the strangest as they too helped Raphael uncover secrets with the many answers they knew. Only Raphael knew that the man would visit a grave almost daily, bringing two flowers in hand.

The first time his brother died had been because of a devastating fate, but the second had been of his own neglection. 

This man who had loved himself more than anything, and loved others too, now despised himself to the very core. 

And one day, after visiting the graves in his proper clothing and carefully selected flowers, he never returned.

A person who held the blame on themself the most... how long could they remain calm before they broke?

The third prince had recklessly attacked the Haze Kingdom, finding vengeance for a friend he lost in the past. He became wild and unrestrained, injuries marring his body as blood constantly followed his wake. 

In fact, he seemed to care the least, but whenever the name of 'Soren Rosenbaum' was mentioned in his presence, he'd lose all sense and his blazing eyes would turn murderous.

The name became forbidden to his ears.

He charged through death, wandering between the thin line of danger. He'd been holding back before, somewhat calm and somewhat cautious. 

But, what was the point anymore?

And the protagonist, heavily entangled with all three, could only watch in silence. Perhaps, had he been moments earlier, he could've saved that prince. Perhaps, had Soren survived, they could've formed a friendship.

But what ifs, and maybes, didn't matter in the end.

What was lost wouldn't return, no matter how much a person destroyed themselves.

 

—-—xxx—-—

 

When Raphael finished reading, nobody spoke. 

This was a novel of betrayal that ended in tragedy. People turned their backs on others, and moved forward for the sake of their own goals. 

But what killed people the most was not their closest friends or family.

It was themselves.