Author's Note:
This chapter contains scenes of violence, bloodshed, and torture, which may not be suitable for all readers. Reader discretion is advised. If you're sensitive to such content, you may choose to skip this chapter or proceed with caution.
Aslan drew his blade and pressed it to the throat of a masked figure standing just behind the window. The assassin, dressed in black, froze — swallowing hard.
With a faint, quivering voice, the figure spoke,
"L–Lupin… Arsène Lupin."
"Oh. The code."
Aslan's eyes softened just a fraction. He pulled the blade back and sheathed it, brushing the edge of the intruder's mask with a glance.
"Then come out," he said quietly, looking toward the shadow of the tree just beyond the window. "You too… the one hiding in the branches. Show yourself."
One by one, the others stepped into the room, exchanging wary glances. They had thought the Third Prince was clueless — worthless, a total waste of a royal. Yet somehow, he had spotted every one of them.
They exchanged hushed whispers.
"Until now, no one had ever noticed us."
"But tonight… he found us all."
Aslan straightened, voice firm and commanding.
"I want your complete loyalty. I want your absolute trust."
He let the words sink in, his gaze sweeping across the room.
"If anyone has a problem with that… you're free to leave now."
They stood there, silent and still. Not a single one moved.
"Then reveal yourselves," Aslan said quietly.
One by one, they stepped forward and lowered their masks.
A tall man with black hair spoke first.
"Five‑star swordsman, Your Highness."
Aslan didn't miss a beat. "Then you're Alpha."
A boy with brown hair spoke next.
"Four‑circle mage."
"Beta," Aslan replied.
A sharp‑eyed man stepped closer.
"Assassin."
"Gamma."
A figure with a calm voice announced,
"Spy."
"Omega."
A younger boy came closer, voice soft.
"Informant, Your Highness."
"Delta," Aslan concluded.
Aslan's voice was sharp, commanding.
"Delta, I want every piece of information from the council meetings. Not a single word should slip past you."
"Omega, you'll watch every council member — and the nobles under them. I want to know where they go, who they meet, and what they do."
"Beta, your task is to set a shielding spell around the Empress's room — no unidentified person must be allowed to enter."
"Gamma, you'll be the shadow — find the enemies trying to assassinate Lucian, and silence them before they can strike."
"Alpha, you'll go with Delta.
I want all tasks finished by this afternoon."
Aslan thought,
"Honestly, I couldn't think of any names… so I just went with Greek letters. Blame my math textbook."
Afternoon.
All five of them arrived, lined up before Aslan.
Aslan asked calmly, "What's the report?"
One after another, they spoke.
"The council is turning against Prince Lucian. They want to remove him from managing the Empire's affairs. Most of the nobles are backing Duke Lender Crowley — it's as if this was their plan all along."
Another stepped forward.
"Last night, I noticed strange activity. Duke Lender Crowley visited a casino, and fifteen minutes later, several counts, viscounts, and barons joined him in a private room. Duke Percival and Duke Osric were with them."
A third spoke, voice tight.
"More troubling… one of Duke Percival's servants tried to slip poison into Prince Lucian's cup. I stopped it just in time."
Aslan rose slowly, crimson eyes burning like the heart of a storm.
"Then let's get started."
Half an hour later.
Duke Lender Crowley was tied to a chair, blood streaking down his shirt. Aslan stepped closer, wrapped in a black hoodie and a mask that obscured every hint of his identity. Slowly, he sank down to the Duke's eye level and spoke in a low, creepy voice.
"Hi, traitor."
With that, he drove a knife deep into the man's thigh.
"Ahhhh!" The scream ripped through the room.
Aslan didn't flinch. He snapped one of the Duke's fingers with a sharp crack.
Then he drew a set of small, razor‑sharp blades and hurled them. They sank into the Duke's arms and legs, one after another.
"Please! Let me go! Whatever you want, I'll give it to you!" Crowley shrieked, choking on terror.
Aslan tilted his head, voice dropping to a deathly whisper.
"Your death… that's all I want."
A faint, cold smile crossed Aslan's masked face.
"Boring. This doesn't entertain me anymore."
He stepped back and waved a hand.
"Gamma. You take over."
Gamma stepped forward, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves. In one hand, a sleek, brutal drilling tool whirred to life as the Duke thrashed and screamed anew.
From the shadows, Aslan spoke quietly, voice like ice.
"Keep him alive. Just make sure… he can never scream again."
A short while later, in the same dimly lit room, the other marquises, dukes, and nobles — those who had conspired with Crowley at the casino — were bound, terror twisting their faces.
Aslan switched on the light and pulled away the cloth covering the chair.
Duke Lender Crowley was slumped there, a mangled mess of dried blood and fresh wounds, countless gashes marking every inch of him.
The sight was too much for the others — they screamed, recoiling in terror, their faces drained of color.
Aslan glanced toward Gamma and gave a slight nod.
Then, in a voice dripping with disdain, he announced,
"This is the fate of any traitor who dares to conspire against the Empire. Don't worry… I won't grant him a quick death."
"Please! Let us go! We've done nothing to deserve this!" they screamed, thrashing wildly.
"Please! Let us go!"
Aslan tilted his head, voice cold as steel.
"Traitors have no right to speak."
Gamma stepped forward, poured a healing potion over Crowley's wounds, and then resumed his brutal work. The room shook with Crowley's agonized cries.
"Please! Let me go! Please!" he shrieked, thrashing helplessly.
Aslan stepped closer, his voice deadly.
"Alright… I set you free."
In one clean, merciless strike, he drew his sword and severed the man's head from his body.
The room fell silent except for the faint drip of blood from Aslan's blade.
"Remember this well. This is the price of betrayal."
Then Aslan turned sharply to Duke Percival and Duke Osric. He swung his blade — one brutal slash, then another — and both dukes fell, lifeless, to the floor.
He looked at the rest, voice cold and commanding.
"From this moment on, if any one of you even thinks of betraying the Empire… you will take their place."
He pointed the tip of his sword toward the crumpled bodies.
"And every problem plaguing this Empire? I want it resolved by tomorrow."
He turned to leave, but paused at the door.
"Remember the name Arsène Lupin."
The room fell into a deathly silence. The remaining nobles shook, terror etched across their faces, before they hastily bowed and fled, unable to bear the weight of Aslan's burning gaze.
Behind him, the assassin watched from the shadows, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"He's so amazing… why have I never heard of him until now?" he thought, unable to hide the glint of admiration in his eyes.
The rest of Aslan's companions exchanged glances — impressed, awed, and slightly wary.
In that moment, every one of them knew: this was no ordinary prince.
This was a man they would follow… and one they would fear to cross.