The forest became silent after the deadly clash.
Only the cold night wind moved between the trees.
John stood alone for several moments, staring at the darkness where the mysterious man had disappeared.
His sword was still stained with blood.
Three severed fingers remained on the ground.
Proof that the battle had happened.
Proof that the man could be wounded.
But John’s expression remained grim.
“We’re not allowed to kill you…”
Those words continued echoing inside his mind.
Who was giving such orders?
And why?
After a few moments, John turned around and began making his way back toward the capital.
The night was quiet.
Then suddenly—
Rustle.
Something fell from a nearby tree.
John immediately stopped.
His hand moved toward his sword.
But no attack came.
Carefully, he approached the object lying on the ground.
A scroll.
Or rather—
Half of a scroll.
The edges looked freshly cut.
John picked it up and examined it beneath the moonlight.
Most of the writing was missing.
Only fragments remained.
Unfortunately, none of it made sense.
Whatever information had been written there had been cut away.
“Tch.”
John frowned.
Then his eyes moved toward the bottom of the scroll.
A seal.
A stamp.
His expression immediately became serious.
The symbol was unfamiliar.
Yet strangely familiar at the same time.
John stared at it.
Trying to remember.
Trying to find it somewhere within his memories.
But after several moments, he shook his head.
“No…”
The stamp itself was damaged.
Half of it had been cut away just like the rest of the scroll.
Whatever organization it belonged to—
The evidence was incomplete.
John carefully folded the scroll and placed it inside his coat.
Even if it wasn’t useful now, it might become important later.
Then he continued toward the capital.
By the time John arrived at the palace, dawn had already arrived.
John didn’t even return to his room.
Instead, he headed directly toward Nick’s chamber.
Several guards stood outside.
The moment they saw him, they bowed.
“Your Highness.”
John entered without delay.
Inside, the royal doctor was checking Nick’s condition.
The doctor immediately stood.
“Your Highness.”
“How is he?”
The doctor smiled slightly.
“Sir Nick is out of danger.”
John quietly released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
The doctor continued.
“However, his body is still weak.”
“He lost a large amount of blood.”
The old man shook his head.
“He will need considerable rest.”
John nodded.
“Thank you.”
After the doctor left, silence filled the room.
Nick was awake.
Though barely.
His face looked pale.
The bandages covering his wounds were impossible to miss.
John pulled a chair closer and sat beside him.
“How are you feeling?”
Nick stared at the ceiling.
“Not good.”
Then he laughed weakly.
“I think that’s what I should say.”
A faint smile appeared on John’s face.
“You fool.”
Nick looked toward him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Nick lowered his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
John frowned.
“For what?”
Nick’s voice became quieter.
“I failed to protect you.”
The memory of the warehouse flashed through his mind.
“I left you there alone.”
For several moments, John remained silent.
Then he shook his head.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Nick looked surprised.
John continued.
His expression became serious.
“So stop blaming yourself.”
Nick remained silent.
Then John lightly hit his shoulder.
“Focus on recovering.”
A weak smile finally appeared on Nick’s face.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
After spending some time with Nick, John finally returned to his room.
The moment he entered, exhaustion hit him.
The battle.
The investigation.
The mysterious organization.
Everything felt connected somehow.
Yet he still lacked answers.
John sat down and removed the half-destroyed scroll from his coat.
Again, he examined the broken seal.
Again, he found nothing.
A knock suddenly interrupted his thoughts.
“Enter.”
A palace servant stepped inside.
She carried a sealed letter.
“Your Highness.”
She respectfully handed it over.
“A message has arrived.”
John accepted it.
After bowing, the servant left the room.
John opened the letter.
As he read its contents, his eyes narrowed slightly.
It was an invitation.
From the Eastern Kingdom.
Britannia.
Princess Charlotte’s birthday celebration would take place next week.
Representatives from numerous kingdoms would attend.
Including Aerith.
And naturally—
Prince John was expected to be there.
John slowly placed the letter on the table.
“Britannia…”
In his previous life, many important events had happened there.
Some good.
Many bad.
For several moments, he remained lost in thought.
Then his eyes shifted toward the calendar hanging nearby.
Seven days.
Only seven days remained before his departure.
A faint smile appeared on John’s face.
It seemed fate wasn’t planning to give him any time to rest.
Not that he expected it to.
The game had already begun.
And Britannia would be his next battlefield.
To be continued…