I Reincarnated as the Bastard Prince? Well, At least I'm OP!-Chapter 33: The Vengeful king

I stepped out of the portal and into the Red Dragon’s domain.

Gwyneria was waiting for me as I approached her.

She bowed slightly, her eyes studying me curiously.

"So," she said, "how was your battle against the Blood Jest Cult?"

I reached up and pulled back the hood of my cloak, letting the cool evening breeze touch my skin.

"They were strong," I replied, "but no real challenge. Maybe I only beat them because I’ve grown exponentially stronger."

She laughed proudly. "You bear the blessings of my Dragon Pact within you. That alone triples your strength, speed, and magical essence. It’s no surprise you crushed them."

I shrugged, then glanced around. "Where’s Raven?"

"Safe and sound," Gwyneria replied. "She’s in the throne room with the orcs. Do you want to see her now?"

"Sure," I said, falling into step beside her as we began to ascend the long staircase leading to the throne chamber.

As our footsteps echoed, I spoke again, my tone lower. "The Blood Jest Cult was after me, but they mistook Raven for me. I let her take all the credit during the selection exam, so they targeted her instead."

Gwyneria frowned, her expression darkening. "That means the selection exam was orchestrated by the cult. Chancellor Elysia... I don’t trust that woman. She might be affiliated with them."

"I thought the same," I admitted, my jaw tightening. "No wonder the exam was so hardcore—so bloody. They knew I was coming to Luminis City. They knew I’d take the selection exam. All those precious lives... wasted. Just to fish me out."

Gwyneria stopped walking and turned to face me, her piercing gaze seeing right through me.

After a moment, she placed her hands on my shoulders, her voice softening. "It’s not your fault those candidates died. You shouldn’t carry that guilt."

I clenched my fists, looking away. "What about Raven? If I hadn’t shown up in time—"

"But she didn’t die," Gwyneria cut in firmly. "You’re strong—and you’ll grow even stronger. Strong enough to protect her."

I let out a dry laugh and shrugged. "Even if I didn’t show up... she probably would’ve been fine. She has her Guardian Spirit. It would’ve protected her."

Gwyneria paused, a puzzled look creasing her brow. "She has a Guardian Spirit? Hm. Good for her."

I let out a dry chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah... except it’s kind of a problem for her. She can’t control it. When it manifests, it goes completely berserk. Destroys everything in its path."

Gwyneria stared thoughtfully at me, her fingers tapping against her arm. "What is this guardian spirit?"

I met her gaze, my voice steady. "The Warrior-King. Do you know anything about him?"

Her eyes widened just a bit. "As a matter of fact," she said, descending into memory, "I do."

She gestured for us to continue walking as she spoke. "The Warrior-King was a tyrant... powerful, ruthless, obsessed with conquest and dominion. He led armies that turned proud kingdoms into ash. His thirst for power was matched only by his need to control everything around him."

She glanced at me, then continued. "He had one son. Just one. He sent him to conquer the Great Walls of Zephandria—a fortified kingdom deep in the east, known for its giant iron gates. But the son was slain... by the Warrior-King’s greatest rival. A man who had long defied him."

I stayed quiet, listening as the tale grew darker.

Gwyneria’s voice dropped to a near-whisper. "The King was devastated. That loss shattered him. Wracked with guilt and blinded by revenge, he abandoned everything—his kingdom, his riches, his people. He burned his legacy to the ground all to hunt down the man who killed his son."

I could almost envious the smoldering cities he left in his wake.

"The warrior king pursued his nemesis for twenty long years," Gwyneria went on, "chasing him across continents. His rival fled, finally taking refuge in a humble village whose people were loyal to him. But when word reached them that the Warrior-King was coming... they feared what he would do. So they took matters into their own hands."

"They killed the rival themselves," she said, her eyes dark. "Before the King could reach him."

I frowned. "That must’ve driven him mad, robbing him of his revenge."

"It did," she nodded. "And it broke him. He wanted revenge so badly, he burned the village to the ground—man, woman, child. But it didn’t satisfy the storm inside him. Nothing could."

Gwyneria paused as we reached the top of the staircase. "The Warrior-king died but his soul was so consumed by hatred and vengeance that it refused to move on. So his spirit lingered, untamed and cursed to wander the realms so he could hunt his nemesis even in the afterlife."

I stared at her, stricken by the horror of it. "Raven told me her grandmother bound the Warrior-King to her as a guardian spirit."

Gwyneria blinked, clearly impressed. "Then her grandmother must’ve been an extraordinarily powerful mage. To tame the Warrior-king? That’s no simple feat."

That’s when my thoughts came out loud. "Is it possible... to transfer the Warrior-King to another host? Like me?"

Silence.

The air between us stilled as we stared at each other.

Then Gwyneria turned her head slightly. "That kind of bond... can only be made once, my liege."

My face fell. "So it’s not possible, huh?"

"I never said that," Gwyneria said. "It’s a very complicated ritual. To unbreak a spirit bond, you must make that free that spirit from it’s earthly attachments. The Warrior-king’s earthly attachments is vengeance and guilt. It cannot be tamed."

I smirked. "Thanks, Gwyneria. That’s all I needed to know."

* * * *

The massive doors of the throne chamber groaned as Gwyneria and I pushed them open.

As we stepped inside, my orc warriors lining the walkway - immediately dropped to one knee in unison, their massive fists thumping against their chestplates in salute.

At the center of the room, Raven stood frozen like a cornered rabbit, her wide eyes darting between the bowed orcs and the blazing chandeliers above.

Her fingers clutched nervously at the hem of her nightwear, the fabric still stained with soot from the attack.

I could see the confusion and fear written all over her face.

"It’s okay, Raven," I called out, my hand gently. "You’re safe."

She whirled around at the sound of my voice, startled. "Archer?" Her voice trembled slightly. "Where... where is this place? How did I get here?"

I stepped closer, keeping my tone calm. "You’re in the Red Dragon’s Domain. It’s, uh... a floating castle in the sky."

Raven’s jaw dropped so dramatically I thought I heard it click.

Her wide-eyed gaze swept across the vaulted ceilings and the crimson banners of the Red Dragon hanging from the towering pillars.

"You... own this place?"

"Well," I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling heat creep up my ears, "it appears so. These are my warband of orcs," I gestured to the still-kneeling warriors, "and the lady beside me is Gwyneria. She’s my dragon familiar."

The color drained from Raven’s face. "You have a dragon familia?" Her voice climbed an octave. "Who the hell are you really?"

I couldn’t help but laugh sheepishly. "Let’s not make a big deal out of this—"

"Not a big deal?" Raven’s arms flailed wildly. "You’re ten years old, Archer! Ten! And you have a warband of orcs, a flying Dragon castle, and a dragon familia! It’s a huge deal!" freēwēbηovel.c૦m

My smile faded from my expression as I stepped closer. "Raven, those attackers at the academy... they weren’t random. They were members of a secret cult."

Her face darkened, eyes narrowing. "A secert cult? But... why would they come after me?"

I met her gaze squarely. "Because they weren’t actually after you." The words hung heavy between us. "They were hunting me."

Raven wagged her fingers in my face. "I knew it. From the very moment I met you, I knew you were going to be trouble."

But then, unexpectedly, her eyes brightened. "But... this is good, isn’t it? I mean, if you’re powerful enough to attract the attention of a secret cult, then it’s only natural..." She leaned forward slightly. "that I study under you."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Study under me?"

She grinned. "You have orcs, a dragon familiar, a flying castle—oh, and apparently the ability to wipe out an entire cult factions. I think you’re more than qualified to take a student."

I chuckled lightly but then shook my head, growing serious again. "I’m willing to help however I can, Raven. But more than that... I want to keep you safe."

She tilted her head, but said nothing.

"There’s something off about Chancellor Elysia," I went on. "She’s not what she seems. I believe this whole selection exam was a trap—to fish me out. And because I saved you... you’re now on their wanted list."

I paused, letting my words settle in. "They’ll come after you again, Raven. But I doubt it’ll be so direct next time. They’ll be subtle. Strategic. And that’s why I need to protect you."

Raven straightened up, her expression firm. "I can take care of myself, Archer. I just need to master magic."

"I know," I replied calmly. "But that’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about."

I took a deep breath, held it for a second, then looked her square in the eye.

"I want your Guardian Spirit."

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