I Reincarnated as the Bastard Prince? Well, At least I'm OP!-Chapter 40: Demons

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

Raven crossed her arms, her expression tight with disapproval. "You shouldn’t have accepted Richard’s challenge. Can’t you see he’s just trying to provoke you?"

I smirked, stretching my arms behind my head. "Relax. It’s not a huge deal. I’m not going to fight him."

She blinked, caught off guard. "What? I don’t get it. If you’re not going to fight him, then who would?"

We walked into the library together.

"My clone," I replied casually, pulling out a few tomes from one of the higher shelves and dusting them off. I handed them to her. "You can start studying these. They’ll help you get ahead in class. I’ve gone through the school’s curriculum—there’s really not much they teach that isn’t already in this library."

Raven took the books, still eyeing me skeptically. "You mentioned your clone is going to fight Richard? Isn’t that dangerous?"

I spread my arms wide, grinning. "Hey, look at me—I’m Lord Ghorath. I can’t lower myself to fighting a small fry like Richard. Don’t worry, my clone won’t hurt him. I’ve instructed it to hold back."

She narrowed her eyes. "Really? It’s not going to hurt him?"

"Well, just enough to bruise his ego. That’s all," I said with a wink.

She sighed, shaking her head, but before she could argue further, she noticed me gathering a few supplies into a small satchel.

Her frown deepened. "Where are you going?"

"I’m paying my mother a visit," I said, slinging the bag over my shoulder. "I don’t know when I’ll be back yet."

Raven’s lips pressed into a thin line. "So that’s it? You’re going to skip classes now? We just started school."

I shrugged. "Don’t worry. I’ve set up a few clones to take my place in class. I might even be back tomorrow."

Deep down, another reason gnawed at me—Camilia.

I hadn’t heard or seen anything from her since that ritual. The memory of it still unsettled me. Something about it still didn’t sit right.

I needed to make sure she was alright.

Raven exhaled, adjusting the books in her hands. "Fine. But you better hurry up. I can’t be stuck on my own all the time, you know."

I smirked. "Shouldn’t you be going to the arena? Watch me ’duel’ Richard?"

She rolled her eyes. "It’d be a waste of my precious time."

I laughed, turning toward the exit. "Fair enough."

* * * *

I stepped out of the library, the searing winds of the Red Dragon’s domain whipping against my robes.

Closing my eyes, I reached into the bond that connected me to Gwyneria.

Just then she appeared before me, still clad in her maid uniform. She immediately dropped into a deep bow.

"My liege," she said with a smile blooming across her face. "It is always a joy to see you."

I returned her smile. "How’s things with Skadra?"

"Skadra’s training has been going so well. That girl—she has potential, real potential. She might even surpass my expectations!"

I smiled at her enthusiasm.

"That’s good to hear, Gwyneria. I’m sorry to distract you from your training session, but I’ll be heading home to see my mother. If you’re not too busy, I’ll need a ride back to King Godfrey’s kingdom."

She tilted her head as if surprised I’d even asked.

Then she stepped forward and smiled, eyes burning with loyalty. "Of course, my liege," she said softly. "You only need to say the word."

With that, she stepped back, her human form bursting into flames.

The flames expanded, twisting and reshaping until the massive, serpentine figure of a Red Dragon stood before me, her scales gleaming like molten lava.

She lowered her wing, forming a ramp for me to climb onto her back.

"Come aboard, my liege." Her voice rumbled like distant thunder.

I climbed onto her back, settling between the ridges of her spine.

The heat radiating from her scales was intense but not unbearable—more like the comforting warmth of a hearth.

With a powerful beat of her wings, Gwyneria launched us into the sky, heading straight for king Godfrey’s kingdom.

* * * *

Back at Waurweth academy, the training ground was silent except for the groan that escaped Richard’s battered lips as he dropped to the floor.

The duel was over before it even truly began.

His uniform was torn and smudged with dust. A large bruise already darkened his cheek, and a thin trickle of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

His entourage stood frozen, their jaws hanging in shock.

"W-What...just happened?" one of them choked out.

"That—that wasn’t even magic!" another sputtered.

"He just... beat him with a stick?!"

They all stared in stunned silence at the figure standing opposite Richard.

Archer’s clone stood calm and composed, holding nothing more than a simple wooden training sword.

The clone didn’t gloat. It didn’t smirk. It simply lowered the wooden sword, turned on its heel, and walked away.

Richard groaned, struggling to push himself up, his face smeared with dirt and blood.

"H-How...?" he wheezed, staring at his trembling hands. "He’s just some servant’s brat...!"

His lackeys rushed to his side, but their faces were written with panic.

"Richard, are you—?"

"That wasn’t normal..." one whispered, eyes wide. "He didn’t even try..."

"W-Wait..." one of Richard’s friends stammered. "H-How? He’s so small! That guy’s barely taller than a first-year..."

"He beat Richard... with a stick," another said, almost whispering. "A stick! While Richard had a real sword!"

"And it only took one strike..."

Richard hadn’t held back. Everyone saw it. He was aiming to humiliate Archer—to crush him for good.

Yet he was the one lying broken and bruised, while the boy with the wooden sword walked away without a scratch.

No one said anything more.

They were horrified.

* * * *

Elysia watched from the balcony, her sharp eyes fixed on the scene below as Richard writhed in the dirt.

The corners of her lips curled into a cold, calculating smile.

A shadow shifted beside her, and Lucien emerged from the darkness like a wraith.

His movements were unnaturally smooth, his expression blank—empty.

"You called for me, Chancellor," he intoned, his voice devoid of inflection.

Elysia didn’t look at him. Her gaze remained on Richard, her mind already weaving her next move.

"Tonight," she said softly, "Archer’s room is to be left unlocked. Use every possible means to ensure he falls into a deep sleep."

Lucien bowed. "It will be done."

Without another word, he melted back into the shadows, leaving no trace of his presence.

Elysia exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening around the balcony railing.

Lucien was a masterpiece—a living puppet, bound to her will through Andras’ ancient puppeteer magic.

His mind was hollow. And if she could do the same to Archer...

Her smile widened.

Then nothing will stand in my way again.

* * * *

The wind whipped through my hair as I sat atop Gwyneria’s back, her massive wings slicing through the clouds.

From up here, the world looked small.

"There," I said, pointing ahead as the landscape unfurled.

The golden spires of King Godfrey’s kingdom shimmered in the distance, rising above a patchwork of lush fields, cobblestone villages, and winding rivers.

The great walls surrounding the capital stood proud and tall, like a crown guarding a treasure.

Even from up here, I could see the marketplace square bustling with people, the glint of sunlight bouncing off merchant carts and tiled roofs.

"I still can’t believe how fast you fly," I muttered, leaning forward and patting one of her scales. "You got us here in twenty minutes. That’s insane."

Gwyneria chuckled, her voice echoing in my mind through our bond. "I could’ve done it in ten if you hadn’t asked me to avoid breaking the clouds."

But then—my smile faded. My whole body tensed.

Something wasn’t right.

Smoke.

There—near the eastern gate. A thick column of it rising into the air, black and oily.

I squinted, heart lurching as I spotted flashes of fire and dark, writhing shapes scaling the outer wall.

My breath caught.

"Demons..." I whispered, my eyes widening.

From the sky, I could see them—hordes of them, swarming like insects. Dark wings, grotesque horns, blades dripping with shadowfire.

The city’s defenses were faltering.

Fires burned near the far side of the palace, and pockets of resistance were being overwhelmed.

"Gwyneria," I said sharply, my voice hardening, "take us down. Somewhere hidden—somewhere they can’t see us."

"At once, my liege," she replied, wings folding slightly as we dipped low, cutting through the clouds.

She banked toward a forested hill just outside the kingdom’s northern wall.

In seconds, she landed smoothly in the shadows of a rocky outcrop, concealed by thick trees and the rising terrain.

I slid down from her back, boots hitting the ground silently.

I didn’t speak for a moment—just stared toward the kingdom as smoke continued to rise and the faint sound of distant battle echoed through the valley.

My fists clenched.

I’d come to visit my mother... but it looked like something far worse was waiting for me.

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