The prince and his younger sister finally returned to the royal palace.
The guards and even the princess herself were confused, whispering to one another about what had just happened outside the palace gates. None of them could make sense of it.
But the prince… he remained silent.
As soon as he entered his chambers, he walked straight to the balcony. His eyes lifted toward the endless sky, but his thoughts weren't on the stars or the clouds—they were on Aaki.
"That was beyond amazing…" he whispered to himself.
"I've never seen anyone that strong before. His speed… his power… his presence—it was on a whole different level."
The prince lowered his head, his eyes falling on his own feet. A bitter smile curved across his face, a smirk hiding the storm of emotions raging within him.
"I wish… I wish I could be like him."
"But a loser like me could never become someone like that."
The words echoed in his heart, bringing forth the painful memories that had haunted him since childhood.
He remembered the whispers—the cruel voices of nobles and servants alike—mocking him for being talentless.
"He has no gift, no power… he doesn't deserve to be a prince."
"The kingdom's future will collapse under him."
He had lived with those words since birth. Even his own parents, the king and queen, spoke of him in hushed tones.
"The boy is weak," his father had said once. "He'll never rule. When the princess grows, she will inherit the throne. She will lead this kingdom, not him."
Those words shattered him. To hear doubt from strangers was one thing—but to hear it from his own blood, from the ones who were supposed to believe in him—that pain cut deepest.
Now, standing on the balcony, the prince clenched his fists.
"If only I had been born with talent… if only I had power like his… maybe then my people would trust me. Maybe then, my parents would look at me with pride instead of disappointment."
His heart ached, but then he remembered something else—Aaki's words, the ones spoken earlier.
"But today… just a few words from him were enough to make me rise against my fear. For the first time in my life, I felt courage burn inside me. For the first time… I felt strength."
A warmth flickered in his chest, but it was quickly interrupted by a knock on his door.
The prince turned and opened it. Standing before him was his younger sister. Her eyes searched his face, noticing the redness around his gaze.
"Big brother… are you crying?" she asked softly.
He forced a smile, quickly wiping his eyes.
"No, of course not. What makes you think that?"
She stepped forward and gently held his hand. Her grip was small, but it carried warmth.
"Thank you, big brother… for standing up and protecting me today."
The prince's fake smile faded. His voice cracked as he answered:
"I… I did nothing. Even when I stood up, I couldn't protect you. I'm not the strong brother you deserve."
But before he could continue, his sister tightened her grip and interrupted him.
"No—you're wrong."
Her voice was filled with certainty.
"You're the person I've always looked up to. No matter what anyone says, I know how strong you are. So what if you weren't born with some special talent? That doesn't make you worthless."
Her eyes softened as she continued.
"You're my big brother. You've always been there when I needed you. That's what makes you strong. Don't ever look down on yourself."
The prince froze. Her words struck his heart deeper than any sword could. For the first time, he felt… seen. For the first time, he felt like he mattered—to at least one person.
Tears welled in his eyes, but this time, they were not from despair.
"I swear… I'll protect you no matter what. From this day forward, I'll never run away again."
That night, the prince began training harder than ever before. He endured pain, humiliation, and failure, but never stopped. Each time he fell, the thought of his sister's words lifted him up again.
—
Years passed.
The prince and princess had grown, their bond stronger than ever. But fate was cruel.
One night, the king—their father—was suddenly poisoned. No healer, no mage, no remedy could cure him. The kingdom trembled as rumors spread, and pressure mounted. If the king died, the prince—once mocked as talentless—would be forced to take the throne.
But before the court could even decide, the palace was struck by a merciless attack.
Dark figures stormed the gates, enemies with terrifying magical powers. Flames roared, walls cracked, and screams filled the night.
Without hesitation, the prince rushed into the fray. Sword in hand, he cut down the attackers one after another, blood staining his clothes. The princess stood beside him, weaving protective spells, shielding the servants and helping survivors escape.
The battle raged. The prince was desperate, his heart burning with only one thought: Protect them. Protect her.
He fought with everything he had, ignoring his wounds as blades slashed and fire burned.But soon, his body reached its limit. His strength waned, his breath grew ragged, and finally—his knees gave way.
The princess too was exhausted, her magic faltering. Around them, the guards had fallen—many slain, others barely clinging to life.
Out of the smoke, their enemy's leader stepped forward. His eyes glowed with cruelty as he looked down at the broken prince.
"I never thought a loser like you would last this long. It's impressive, really," the man sneered. "But this is the end. You, your sister, and everyone in this palace will die tonight."
He raised his hand, gathering a devastating surge of magic. The air crackled, the ground trembled.
The prince shut his eyes tightly, bracing for death.
And then—
"This Voice... "