Chapter Sixty-Eight: Collision

The eldest prince and his entourage arrived before the palace, where the guards stood as usual, showing no sign of anything amiss. The prince paid little attention, nodded at the guards, and prepared to enter. Yet Coris, who accompanied him, suddenly sensed something was wrong.

"Debir, why are you on duty here today?" he asked, surprised, his eyes narrowing. "If I recall correctly, I didn't assign you to this post before I left."

The guard replied with an unchanged expression, "Lord Coris, Lord Barry is feeling unwell today, so I am substituting for him."

Coris squinted, feeling instinctively uneasy. He thought it over but found nothing concrete amiss.

"Coris, stop daydreaming. Let's go inside," the prince urged.

"Yes, Your Highness," Coris replied, suppressing his doubts.

It was impossible to bring nearly a hundred guards into the palace unless one was planning a revolt—otherwise, such a move was unthinkable. So the prince ordered his guard to remain outside and entered with only Coris and a few knights.

After walking a while inside, the atmosphere suddenly shifted. Whether it was illusion or not, a faint murderous aura seemed to emanate from nearby, unsettling Coris. Even the prince frowned at the empty halls, feeling instinctively that something was wrong.

If Artis were present, he would have seen the aura above the prince's head violently trembling, shrouded by tendrils of black mist, a foreboding sign.

"Too quiet," the prince murmured.

No sooner had he spoken than countless spears appeared, flying toward him with fierce momentum. His pupils contracted; he wished to dodge, but escape was impossible.

"Your Highness, beware!" Coris shouted, his body ablaze with powerful battle energy, manifesting as a mighty lion. The lion roared, unleashing waves of energy that blasted the spears aside.

"Truly worthy of the name Lion Coris—the strongest knight in Brook," a voice praised from ahead.

A handsome young man appeared silently before them, smiling at Coris. Both men were startled.

"Prince Kezel!" Coris said, his face darkening. "Why are you here? His Majesty did not summon you."

Kezel merely smiled and waved his hand. Instantly, the empty palace filled with armored knights, their bodies radiating battle energy.

The prince's expression grew grim. He understood that there would be no peaceful resolution today. To bring troops into the palace was an act that, in Brook's history, always heralded coups and chaos. Kezel was clearly determined to eliminate him.

Indeed, the second prince issued no words, simply ordered his men to attack, intending to slay them right there.

"Your Highness, run!" Coris shouted, surging forward with fierce energy. As the commander of Brook's knights, his battle energy was ferocious, having reached the peak of second rank. He charged ahead, swiftly cutting down several knights.

Yet Kezel's smile did not falter. He glanced around, and several knights, their energy surging, rushed forward—they too were earth knights. Though not as strong as Coris, their numbers sufficed to entangle him.

Seeing this, the prince frowned and drew his sword, rushing out. Outside the palace, his hundred guards awaited; if they could regroup, they might rescue Coris.

Behind him, as the prince tried to flee, a great knight struck, battle energy roaring, aiming to block him.

"Out of my way!" the prince bellowed, his sword flashing, striking the attacker and forcing him back, blood streaming down his opponent.

Only then did the others realize in shock that the eldest prince was himself an earth knight.

But Kezel merely sneered and clapped, summoning two more earth knights to ambush the prince. His progress stalled, tightly restrained by their assault.

Soon, with cries of despair, the prince's knights fell one by one, leaving only the prince and Coris, struggling desperately against their besiegers.

The outcome was clear: surrounded by dozens of knights, the prince's defeat was inevitable.

Kezel finally relaxed, turning to Coris. The knight, beset by several earth knights, showed no sign of exhaustion—his energy surged, forming the image of a lion, actually suppressing his foes.

But that was the extent of his strength. Surrounded by dozens more knights, no matter his tenacity, he would eventually be overwhelmed.

Watching this, Kezel felt a rare appreciation for talent. "Sir Coris, surrender! The situation is clear. If you yield now, you will remain as commander of Brook's knights and continue to lead the royal forces."

Coris answered only with a furious shout.

Kezel shook his head in resignation, saying no more.

"So, it seems victory is mine..." he thought, watching the prince grow weaker beneath the relentless assault.

But at that moment, a storm of arrows tore through the ranks, disrupting the order. Amid the astonished cries, armored guards charged from the side.

"Your Highness! Lord Coris!" voices called out.

Coris rejoiced, "It's the knights of Genar—they've arrived!"

"Didn't we divert them? How did they get here?" Kezel shouted, disbelief etched in his eyes.

Regardless, the knights pressed the attack, their battle energy swirling, striving to rescue the prince and Coris. These were Coris's personal royal troops—loyal to the king and Coris, supporters of the prince.

Kezel had no time to wonder how they appeared, only shouting, "Hold them back!"

The situation stalled. Meanwhile, outside, the prince's guards finally sensed something was wrong and broke through the blockade, charging in.

The tide within the palace shifted dramatically.

Kezel watched, his face dark, as the opposing knights fought desperately to shield their leaders, and the prince escaped right before his eyes. His gaze grew grim.

"Why?" he muttered in a low growl, unable to shake his confusion.