WARNING: There's suggestion of SA in this chapter, please skip to the next section to ignore it!

Within a blink of an eye a man was choking in his hand. “What do you think you’re doing?” Danico growled as he squeezed the neck of the one known as Mage Cian. This man was someone that only ever existed in the background of Danico’s adventure. Danico barely paid attention to him.

The one time Danico talked to the man directly and asked him what he wished for in front of a campfire filled with soldiers, was the moment he knew the man could not be trusted. Anyone who wished for world peace in Danico’s eyes were hypocrites, especially when the question was answered with prying eyes all around. 

Mage Cian had a reputation as a kind and understanding man amongst the soldiers, it would have been foolish of him if he answered what he truly wished for. And thus, he replied with the most generic answer one could think of under pressure.

He grit his teeth as he let go of all his anger. If Danico knew the man was such a piece of scum he would have killed him a long time ago.

“You know what, don’t answer that. I know exactly what you were doing.”

The bard squeezed his hand one last time and set the man on fire. He watched with cold eyes as he writhed in pain and enjoyed every moment of it. He couldn’t even scream, all he could do was claw at Danicos arm and beg with his eyes. Danico kept his hands on his neck. 

Danico stared at him dead in the eyes with a glare even the devil would tremble from. He wanted this man to know, the person he was facing was more terrifying and unforgiving than the ruler of the underworld himself. He wanted Mage Cian’s body to know what the deepest pit of hell felt like, ingrain the pain of fire into his soul until every reincarnation will be terrified at the sight of a small spark of flame.

He stared the man in the eyes until he was nothing but charred remains. Tossing the corpse aside, he approached the princess with sad eyes. There were purple bruises littered all over her sleeping body. Perhaps it was a blessing that she was cursed to sleep at this very moment.

Danico summoned a dagger and cut the palm of his hand in one swift movement. “Alright princess, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said softly.

Mikhail dodged the black shadowy arm that lunged at him. He almost tripped over the stairs and fell to his death if he hadn’t summoned thorny black vines that latched on to the walls to hold him up. 

Imagine that, surviving the powerful Rose Dragon and becoming a dragon slayer only to die via a winding staircase a couple minutes later. Mikhail would never live that down. He was grateful Danico wasn’t there to see him fumble around, otherwise the bard would never stop teasing him about it.

“Sir Faris, what’s wrong with you?!” Mikhail yelled. Could it be that the arm has somehow possessed his friend? But he sensed nothing malicious from it even if it looked far too similar to the forms of the wildlings lurking in the shadows of the Rose Garden.

Faris’ misty blue eyes slowly blinked at him. He swung his arm once more, this time it was so powerful it destroyed a part of the wall. 

“Sir Faris, stop!” Mikhail ordered. If Sir Faris continued to attack like this, the tower would collapse and kill everyone in it. The first people to be buried and die from the rubble would be them.

Fighting on the stairwell was not very ideal, especially if the only weapon he had right now was a bow with no arrow.

Mikhail looked around to come up with a plan. His environment wasn’t exactly teeming with things he could use to incapacitate his knight who was clearly brainwashed. There was nothing he could use in this stairwell, all he had was the new power he received upon slaying the dragon.

If only he could use the vines without the thorns, it would be great. While it seems like the thorns are not hurting him and he’s become immune to their cursed poison, it’s not exactly the case with everyone else. The vine that was holding him up glowed and the thorns retracted themselves one by one.

Mikhail blinked in wonder.

Before he passed away, the old royal mage told him one thing during magical theory class that finally caught his attention. 

“Magic is only limited by your imagination,” the wise man said. “Thus, it would be good for his highness to read more books and not focus too much on swordsmanship and archery.”

Mikhail groaned in annoyance and rolled his eyes, but still spent his afternoons reading books at a little nook in the library. His tiny brother Jabril would sometimes join him and he would whisper stories about fantastical adventures to his sickly little brother who stared at him with wide eyes.

“Magic is limited by your imagination,” Mikhail repeated with resolve in his eyes. 

If that was the case, then he had a plan.

With that in mind, he flung the vines around from his hands, swinging back and forth around the room until he created a spider net made of his magical vines in the middle of the tower.

Sir Faris quietly and blankly watched him work. If Faris wasn’t mind controlled, he would have stopped whatever his opponent was doing before they could even begin their plan. The difference between someone being mind controlled was immense.

Mikhail clung to the wall across from Faris. The vines on his left hand stuck to the stone walls like glue. With a quiet apology he flung another vine at Faris who defended himself by trying to slash at the plant with his magical arm. 

But Mikhail wasn’t aiming for his arm or upper body, he aimed for his feet. The vine clung to the metal of his armor and the prince pulled the knight into the opening of the winding staircase. Anyone would have fallen to their death at this height, had it not been for the net underneath that Mikhail created. 

The prince held his breath, hoping that it would hold.

When Faris bounced on it with no problem, Mikhail held up his hands and willed the vines to grow and wrap themselves around the knight. Magic truly was only limited to one's imagination. He wondered if that was why the previous royal mage was so powerful, he was a little bit kooky in the head.

Mikhail landed back on the staircase and had the vines move the knight back up to him. He might have overdone it, because the knight looked like he was about to metamorphose into a butterfly with how tightly he was cocooned by the vines.

It might be overkill, but it’s better safe than sorry.

“Faris Manvel, get it together!” Mikhail said, shaking the cocooned knight. “This is unbecoming of you!”

The knight stared at him blankly.

Mikhail slapped his face.

He slapped the knight over and over again until clarity came back into his blue eyes. “Wha-?”

“You’re back to normal!”

“Your highness?!”

Mikhail released the knight from the vines and he sheepishly watched as the knight touched his reddened cheeks. “What happened? Why do my cheeks hurt so much?”

“Nevermind about that,” Mikhail said. “What happened to you? Have you seen Mage Cian?”

Sir Faris blinked, “I’m not sure… I don’t remember anything after the fairy in the second trial left.”

Mage Cian couldn’t have failed the second trial and died, right? Perhaps the man could still be saved if the fairy he fought showed him mercy and just put him to sleep like the rest of the cursed folks who stumbled on the thorns.

But Mikhail was starting to have a bad feeling about that thought. He was confident the man wouldn’t let himself be defeated like that. A feeling in him urged him to rush up the stairs. “Let’s hurry, we need to check on the princess!”

He slammed the door open to the princess’ room.

There on the blue bed was his beloved bard with his fingers on the buttons of the princess’ nightgown.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked with dread.

“Mage Cian?!” Sir Faris yelled as he ran to the charred corpse. “Bard, did you do this?!”

Righteous fury was filled in Faris’ eyes. The anger deepened when he saw the bard practically draped over the princess and touching her dress. How dare that bard?! First he seduces the prince and kills the royal mage and now this?!

“You’re going to pay for your crimes!” Faris yelled and whipped out his black arm in a threatening manner.

Danico sighed and ignored the knight. He looked at the prince and saw hurt in his eyes. Was that disappointment too? Danico pressed his lips together and sauntered over to the window, back to the spot he wanted to surprise the prince at. 

Except this was not the kind of surprise he wanted.

He summoned the green rose and took a small whiff of it. It gave off a far more refreshing scent than the red roses all around. 

“What do you think?” he said with a smirk, while pointing at the charred remains of Mage Cian.

As usual, he put on a mask. Angry people cannot be reasoned with. He might as well go with the flow instead of explaining himself. What was the point? They're going to accuse him of lying anyway.

The light shone behind the bard. The shadows turned his smirk into a sad smile.

Dawn was approaching.