Javier opened the carriage door and stepped onto the cold stone street.
The guards immediately moved around him, forming a protective barrier as their weapons remained pointed toward the small figure standing several meters ahead.
“Your Highness, please remain behind us,” one of them warned, but Javier simply raised a hand.
“Lower your weapons.” The guards exchanged uncertain glances, clearly reluctant to obey.
“But, Your Highness…” Javier’s expression did not change.
“I said lower them.” After a moment of hesitation, the guards reluctantly obeyed, and the steel blades slowly descended.
With the immediate threat contained, Javier turned his attention toward the small presence ahead.
The child’s mana was disturbingly weak for someone so young, barely flowing through a body that seemed exhausted beyond its limits.
His breathing came in short, uneven bursts, accompanied by the faint trembling of his hands.
Javier concentrated more carefully and noticed something else within his Mana Detection, a small metallic object surrounded by the faint trace of the child’s mana.
“A knife,” he murmured.
The child froze.
Through his Mana Detection, Javier gradually formed a clearer picture of the boy standing before him.
He was painfully thin, with loose clothes hanging from a body weakened by hunger.
His limbs were almost skeletal, tangled hair fell around his face, and the hand gripping the small knife trembled so badly that he could barely keep its blade pointed toward the Crown Prince.
One of the guards immediately stepped forward when he realized what the boy was holding.
“How dare you point a weapon at His Highness!” The sound of steel being drawn caused the child to stumble backward, his already uneven breathing becoming frantic.
“I… I didn’t…” His voice cracked as the guard raised his sword.
“Your Highness, allow me to deal with him.”
“Stop.” Javier’s voice was neither loud nor forceful, yet the guard froze immediately.
Javier stepped beyond the protective formation before anyone could object.
The boy panicked at his approach and raised the knife again, but Javier showed no sign of retreating.
He simply stood before him, listening to the faint trembling of the blade and the rapid heartbeat pounding inside the child’s chest.
“Why are you holding a knife?”
The boy tried to answer, but nothing came from his mouth at first.
His fingers tightened desperately around the handle as though it were the only thing keeping him standing, yet the longer Javier waited without threatening him, the weaker that grip became.
His arm slowly lowered.
“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered.
“My little brothers and sisters haven’t eaten.”
Javier remained silent, allowing him to continue.
The boy swallowed before lowering his head.
“They haven’t eaten for two days. I asked people for food, but nobody gave me anything.” His hand began trembling again, though the knife now hung harmlessly beside him.
“So I thought… if I scared someone, maybe they would give me something.” Whatever courage had allowed him to stand in front of the carriage finally disappeared.
His knees struck the stone as he bowed his head.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. Please… don’t kill me.”
The street around them had grown unnaturally quiet.
Javier could hear the faint movements of people watching from the surrounding buildings.
A wooden door had opened somewhere to his right, while someone else stood almost motionless behind a nearby window.
Several quiet breaths came from within the houses lining the street, their occupants unwilling to reveal themselves but equally unwilling to look away.
They were all waiting to discover what the Crown Prince of Sylvaris would do to a starving child who had dared to point a knife at him.
Javier slowly approached.
The boy flinched when he heard his footsteps drawing closer and lowered his head even further, seemingly expecting punishment.
Instead, Javier crouched before him and gently placed a hand upon his head.
The boy’s entire body became still beneath his touch.
“I’m not going to kill you,” Javier said softly.
“You are one of my people, and as long as I am alive, I will not simply stand by and watch you die.”
The boy’s shoulders began to tremble.
He slowly raised his face, his lips quivering as though he was still unsure whether he had heard correctly.
“Will I… really live?” A faint smile touched Javier’s face.
“Yes.” That single answer seemed to break whatever strength the boy had been using to hold himself together.
His head dropped again as tears began falling onto the stone, quiet sobs escaping between his trembling breaths.
Javier listened without interrupting him.
He could hear every tear striking the ground, every unsteady breath and every desperate attempt the boy made to control his crying.
More than anything, Javier could sense the weakness inside that starved little body.
This child had stood before armed royal guards with nothing more than a small knife, not because he wanted to hurt anyone, but because hunger had left him with no other choice he could understand.
After a moment, Javier rose and turned slightly toward his attendant.
“Alaric, bring me the basket of bread.” Alaric immediately bowed.
“At once, Your Highness.” As he returned to the carriage, Javier allowed his Mana Detection to spread across the surrounding streets once more, reaching through the nearby houses and narrow alleyways.
What he found there only made the heaviness in his chest grow worse.
Aslan was not the only child whose mana had weakened from hunger.
There were others nearby, along with adults whose bodies had been worn down by sickness and exhaustion.
Some remained inside their homes, while others barely moved at all.
Javier’s hand slowly tightened at his side.
Giving a child reassuring words was easy.
Feeding an entire city was something else entirely.
Alaric soon returned carrying a large basket filled with bread.
Javier reached inside, took one of the loaves and held it toward the boy.
“Take it.” The child hesitated, seemingly unable to believe that the bread was truly being offered to him.
His hands eventually stretched forward and carefully grasped the loaf, but the moment it touched his palms, he pulled it tightly against his chest as though someone might suddenly take it away.
“There is enough in the basket for you and your younger brothers and sisters,” Javier told him.
The boy slowly raised his head, and for several seconds, he seemed unable to find the words to answer.
“Thank you…” His voice broke as fresh tears gathered in his eyes.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Javier gave a small nod.
“What is your name?” The boy hurriedly wiped his face with his sleeve before answering, “Aslan.” Javier repeated the name quietly, committing it to memory.
“Aslan. Take the bread home to your family.”
Aslan nodded several times before carefully holding the bread against his chest and turning away.
He had only taken a few steps when he stopped and looked back toward Javier.
“I’m sorry for trying to hurt you.” Javier’s expression softened slightly.
There was no anger in his voice when he answered, “Go home, Aslan.” This time, the boy obeyed.
His small footsteps hurried across the stone before gradually disappearing deeper into the streets of Srivi.
Javier remained where he was long after the sound had faded.
The faint warmth in his expression slowly disappeared as his attention returned to the city surrounding him.
The smell of rotten drainage still lingered in the air, mixed with smoke, sickness and the faint traces of blood he had noticed upon entering Srivi.
Through his Mana Detection, he could still sense countless weakened inhabitants scattered throughout the surrounding streets, and beneath all of those familiar traces of human mana, that strange presence continued to linger like something that did not belong there.
What had happened with Aslan only confirmed what Javier had begun to suspect from the moment Srivi first appeared beyond the horizon.
This was no ordinary poverty, nor was it merely a city that had been neglected for several difficult years.
Something had gone terribly wrong here, and the suffering had spread far enough that even children were being forced onto the streets in search of food.
Srivi was not merely poor.
It was dying.
Javier slowly turned toward the heart of the city.
Somewhere beyond those streets lay the reason Srivi had fallen this far, and if he intended to save its people, he could not afford to waste time discovering what it was.
I have to move quickly, before this city truly disappears.