Inside the ancient yet magnificent castle in the Royal Capital, the setting sun streamed through the glass windows. Compared with the castle's weathered outer walls, the three-story study was elegant and warm.
The study's curtains were drawn. A pale-faced man with a smile sat behind the desk, propping up his chin with one hand as he looked playfully at Dickga, who was kneeling on the wool carpet.
"You're saying I have a younger brother? And he only arrived in the Royal Capital today?"
"Yes, yes, Your Highness, the Third Prince."
Dickga swallowed, his hand trembling uncontrollably. He had done the boldest thing of his life. After betraying someone, he had come to pledge himself to a new master. In his eyes, this somewhat effeminate man before him was the final winner.
"Liar. That should be my younger sister. Still, you did quite well. Dark Girl, cut off one of his fingers."
"Wait..."
Before Dickga could finish speaking, his left hand suddenly went numb. His little finger vanished, and blood sprayed like a fountain as excruciating pain swept over him. Just as he was about to scream, a hand covered in burn scars clamped over his mouth, while another arm locked around his neck.
"Betrayal comes at a price. That includes me."
The Third Prince tapped his left eye with a finger. It was a false eye. He had once betrayed his closest elder brother—the two of them had been willing to die for each other. Yet in the end, the Third Prince still betrayed him. So he had gouged out his own left eye and buried it alongside his elder brother.
"Among six people—no, seven now—of all seven, you chose me, Dickga. Do you think I'll be the ultimate victor?"
"Yes!"
Dickga clutched his severed finger, his face pale with