That Night

Cyril Falkenhaus.

The Unwelcome One.

Tales stared gravely at the Duke of the Western Desolation, at the even more frightening appearance he had acquired after six years, with more wrinkles and less hair.

Six years as a hostage had already left Tales faintly estranged from the people, affairs, and things of the Star Kingdom.

Yet when this terrifyingly gaunt noble duke, who looked like an ancient tree come to life, appeared before Tales once more, and his sharp, grating voice echoed in the Prince's ears again, all his memories of the past returned in that instant.

The National Affairs Conference in Everstar City six years ago, the one that had decided Tales's fate, felt as though it had happened only yesterday.

The cold wind outside the tower came biting in, making Tales, dressed in a thin shirt and trousers, shiver violently.

"Wasteland Ruins isn't exactly nearby."

Tales forced aside his distracting thoughts and looked calmly at Falkenhaus.

Stay calm.

This is Williams's territory, the territory of the royal Standing Army. He can't possibly harm me.

Think. Six years ago, when the Second Prince appeared, what was Falkenhaus's stance?

What kind of person was he?

And the reason he has appeared here...

Tales kept his expression unchanged.

"So, what exactly made someone as noble as Your Grace travel a thousand miles to this bitter, exhausting, filthy, chaotic frontier?"

Falkenhaus gave a grotesque laugh and jerked his cane, advancing toward Tales one step at a time.

"Your Highness, are you truly a newcomer here, with no time to concern yourself with..."

The other man's terrifying, withered face slowly grew larger before him. Tales felt a wave of discomfort and had to grip the dagger behind his waist tightly, forcing down the urge to retreat.

The Duke of the Western Desolation stopped a