I Became the Youngest Prince in the Novel

"A surprise attack...!"

Thunk!

Before he could complete his exclamation, a dagger found its home in the mouth of the knight.

"What are you vile creatures doing... cough!"

Soon, the weapons of the assassins inevitably cut short the lives of the knights in tow.

And so, the assassins, having swiftly dispatched three knights in the Chimseong Palace, emerged from the shadows, casually shoving the bodies aside.

In contradiction to their reputation as solitary operators, the assassins also enjoyed forming groups to effectively snuff out their adversaries.

"Did they anticipate our arrival?"

Assassin Number 18 mused, his gaze resting on the metallic plates affixed to the throats and hearts of the fallen knights.

Moreover, the number of knights on night duty was double their intel, and they were patrolling in trios rather than pairs.

Even with meticulous preparation for the initial attack, this was an odd scenario. It appeared as if they knew an attack was imminent.

"It's a surprise attack!"

"Gather and be on guard!"

Already, the palace was alive with warning cries.

'But nothing changes.'

The original plan had been to eliminate all life within the palace.

And they possessed the might to do so.

Even though it was late for an assassination, all they needed was to fulfill their objective.

'If we begin from the lower ranks and erase upward... hmm?'

While contemplating this, a question flickered in the eyes of Assassin Number 18.

His original team consisted of seven members, excluding himself.

But he only counted six.

"Where did one disappear? Solo action was strictly forbidden..."

Then.

Sssss-

A sinister sound, akin to a serpent slithering on the ground, reached Number 18's ears.

As Number 18 and the other assassins involuntarily turned towards the noise.

Thunk!

A noise resembling something shattering echoed from the exact opposite direction.

Once more, Assassin Number 18 swiveled his head towards the sound.

"....!"

The sight of a beheaded assassin, collapsing, filled his vision.

"What is happening...!"

The assassins' eyes were filled with confusion.

However, their confusion didn't last long.

Number 18, quickly deciphering the situation, instructed the remaining assassins.

"Halt your advances, keep watch around."

In the face of an invisible adversary, to continue was the same as suicide.

They closed their ranks, covering each other's blind spots.

The assassins quickly formed a protective formation, seemingly well versed in such a tactic.

With that, silence began.

Yet within this silence was a palpable tension.

The unseen enemy had managed to assassinate two of them, unnoticed.

A momentary lapse in concentration could result in immediate death.

'There are no blind spots in our vision. At this rate, we shouldn't lose any more members… huh?'

Something peculiar caught Number 18's eye.

Darkness.

At the corner of his vision, the darkness was shaking oddly.

As if it were sentient.

Despite his familiarity with darkness, this was a form of darkness he had never witnessed before.

As Number 18 was entranced by this strange darkness.

It appeared to ripple with laughter.

Absurd as it seemed, it was the only fitting description.

The moment Number 18 felt a chill run down his spine at this spectacle,

Crack!

A peculiar noise echoed from behind.

Sensing impending danger, Number 18 swiftly turned his head to see,

Crumble!

A dark entity was engulfing the upper body of one of the assassins.

Swish!

The surrounding assassins swiftly drew their swords, but the entity had already vanished, leaving behind the lower half of the assassin's body.

"What...?"

A wave of nausea surged up in another assassin, his voice a choked gurgle. Fear spread like a plague among the assassins, uncertainty creeping into their hearts. This... creature, this entity - they couldn't be certain if it was human at all.

"Get a grip!"

Number 27, the vice leader, noted the growing panic and tried to instill some courage. "We're up against just one opponent. The next attack--"

But he couldn't finish his sentence.

Crack!

His head disappeared into nothingness.

"Oh, God...!"

Number 27's gruesome end intensified the panic among the assassins. Reason failed them, and they scattered, only looking to escape the nightmare. The assassins were not cowards; they would rather face death than flee. But that was when they knew what they were up against.

An unknown adversary. A monstrous entity that obliterated their comrades, one after another, sowing terror they had never experienced before.

'I never knew such a creature existed in the Chimseong Palace.'

Number 18, like the rest, fled from the scene, leaving a trail of cold sweat. Panic-stricken cries of his fellow assassins echoed in his ears, chilling his heart.

They were being hunted.

Their specialty, assassination, was now being used against them. Despite running at full speed, the terrified screams seemed to draw nearer.

"Ah..."

And then, all was silent. The screams ceased.

And then Number 18 saw it.

Ssssss.

The darkness at the edge of his vision was... shifting.

"Who are you... Who are you?!"

In response to his desperate question, a man emerged.

Silver hair, a lean figure.

His eyes were so serene, it was unnerving.

“…!”

Recognition dawned on Number 18, filling him with incredulity.

Zion Agnes.

Their target, the exiled prince of Chimseong Palace.

"How... How can this be..."

He found himself repeating the words, dumbstruck by the realization that it had been Zion who was hunting them.

'I need to report this.'

The world was ignorant about the truth of Prince Zion, the despised prince. Number 18's goal shifted from assassination to escape; he had to relay this shocking revelation to his organization.

He pivoted on his heel, intending to run as fast as he could.

"I'll let one of you go..."

The calm voice of Zion echoed in his ears, stopping him in his tracks.

"You're not the one."

His headless body staggered forward and then collapsed.

'A real battle is far more exhilarating.'

Zion mulled over this as he observed the corpses of the assassins. His Black Star had grown exponentially in today's battle compared to any recent training. Zion did not shy away from this battle; he had savoured it.

"Halt!"

"Where is the Prince? We must secure his safety!"

The clamor of battle reverberated through the expansive halls of the Chimseong Palace.

'This will soon be over.'

The constant noise indicated the palace guards were not merely falling to the onslaught, but were resisting. A little boost from Zion and the tide of battle would turn in their favor.

Suddenly, a new sound resonated.

Boom!

It was distinct from the clash of swords and shields, a sound indicative of an explosion.

Zion’s eyes lit up in recognition.

'I had forgotten.'

With that, he began to melt into the shadows once more.

Undercurrent.

This basic movement technique was part of the arsenal of the Black Star. An alien power, the Black Star did not integrate seamlessly with anything, but it had an affinity for the darkness, hence the related techniques.

Riding the wave-like motion, Zion moved swiftly towards the source of the sound, taking in the chaotic scene.

"How dare you invade the Imperial Palace!"

Boom!

Priscilla, her countenance seething with rage, unleashed a series of spells that engulfed the surroundings in a fiery inferno.

Zion found it somewhat captivating.

But.

Clang!

The assassins squaring off against Priscilla were formidable adversaries. They seemed to be the cream of the crop among those who had infiltrated the Chimseong Palace that day, holding their ground against her onslaught.

In fact, they were beginning to gain the upper hand.

"Arrgh!"

A cry of pain tore through Priscilla’s lips as the relentless attacks found their way through her magic.

The accumulating injuries were taking their toll.

And then.

"You…!"

Just as an assassin broke through her protective magic, poised to plunge his sword into her heart, Zion acted.

A single step.

He moved between Priscilla and the assassin, his hand extending forward.

Swoosh!

The trajectory of the assassin’s blade was diverted, guided by the Black Star pulsating in Zion’s hand.

He seized the moment.

Crash!

In a blink, the assassin’s heart was obliterated.

"Who…?"

Priscilla watched, her eyes filled with questions.

Before the lifeless body of the assassin whose heart Zion had crushed could hit the ground, Zion was already a shadow dashing towards the remaining assassins.

Crash, crash, crash!

Each move took a life.

There was no evading or resisting him.

This was not a battle anymore.

It was a massacre.

'What a disaster.'

Observing from the sidelines, Number 4 frowned at the bloodshed, a sinking feeling taking root.

Even the formidable mage had not seen this coming.

The enigmatic figure, however, wreaking havoc amongst the assassins - boasting superior skills and shrouded in an unidentifiable power - was indeed the root of this failure.

He must have efficiently eliminated all the assassins infiltrating other parts of the palace.

'Who could have anticipated such a presence in the Chimseong Palace, a place we had assumed was deserted.'

An unforeseen factor.

A substantial enough factor to single-handedly overturn the situation.

Step, step.

Just as Number 4, who was observing Zion striding towards him after dispatching all the assassins, prepared to surrender.

Whoosh!

He hurled himself towards the window behind him, not towards Zion.

He opted for flight over fight.

“…….”

Zion did not pursue Number 4, but rather dispelled the Black Star enveloping him.

"Zion... The Prince?"

A voice, filled with disbelief, came from Priscilla as she recognized Zion, but he offered no response.

His gaze was fixed on the rapidly receding Number 4, and the black thread extending from his fingertips trailing behind him.

Soul Thread.

This ethereal strand, visible only to Zion, was one of the techniques of the Black Star. Once linked, it allowed him to track the target within a certain radius.

The Soul Thread would lead him straight to their lair.

'I will be there soon.'

From the moment he became conscious of his surroundings, Zion had never allowed those who targeted him to live.

If a hundred set their sights on him, he would annihilate a thousand. If a thousand targeted him, he would decimate ten thousand.

Thoroughly, leaving no room for unexpected variables.

This instance was no exception.

Within Zion's eyes spun a single black star, its languid glow resonating.

It was an indication that the Black Star had finally transitioned to its first stage.

***

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