Prince ZheNg of CameLot

Six hours later, it was 7:00 a.m.

In the heart of Camelot city was the emperor's manor. Instead of the manor hall being an architectural wonder of a building, it was a castle. The estate was fenced in by thick, grey walls that were 150 metres tall. There were walkways and battlements on them for the stationing of soldiers. The soldiers stationed on these walls were clad in the same armour as the soldiers on the city walls.

The walls and towers of the castle were much higher than the estate walls. They were 200 metres tall. Compared to the estate walls, the guards on the castle walls were fewer in number. This was because elite and 'super' loyal soldiers were stationed around the castle.

The elite guards of the castle were garbed in golden and silver chain-mail torso armour. The gold colour took the upper half of the armour, and the silver colour took the lower half. On their heads, they had a solid silver helmet that had a T-shaped aperture that exposed their eyes, nose, and mouth. Their chausses were brown, accompanied by a pair of light but durable leather boots.

The Lord's Hall, which was the central building in the castle, was a complex of four towering buildings that stood higher than the castle walls. The buildings averaged about 220 metres in height.

The last building on the left side of the complex was the humongous training ground for the royals of Camelot. Inside the building was a battle theatre. Rows of seats arranged in sloping columns circled the battle arena.

Twenty men who looked literally like valour and had valour were seated in the front row that was close to the arena at the north end. These men were garbed in armour like those of the castle walls' guards. The paramount reason that they were in here was because they were the only ones trusted to keep the secret of what was going to happen in here. And they had to keep a certain prince from harm.

The ground of the arena was sandy. On it stood the heir to the throne of Camelot, Prince Gerald Zheng Ndu-Agu. He was clad in a solid grey helmet, grey brigandine torso armour that had metal sleeves and radiated a faint golden hue, and brigandine chausses. He posed to guard himself from frontal attack with a couche shield that was hung over his left forearm. He held a sparkling and shimmering dark orb in his right hand, and a crystal that had its top part penetrated by a rope was hung cross-body by the same rope on him.

Zheng looked frigid, but his fidgety pose exposed his anxiety. He was facing the southern end of the theatre, which had only a big cage.

A blond-haired man who wore thick square glasses and looked to be in his early thirties stood on the platform at the top of the cage. He was clothed in a black blazer suit worn over a white shirt that was accompanied by black pants and black sandals. This clothing was worn by the rich class of this era. He held a red orb, the size of an adult's clinched fist, in his right hand. His right arm was extended forward, which put the orb above a hole in the platform. He had an uneasy countenance.

The blond man, Muller, said to the prince, "Are you ready, my prince?"

"Yes!" Zheng resolutely responded, "Drop the damn orb!"

"Here we go! Exite, damnate bestiam." Muller roared, dropping the orb through the hole.

The orb landed softly on the floor of the cage. A second later, black smoke erupted to fill the cage. Instantly, the smoke solidified to manifest into a black Western dragon.

Zheng kneeled on his left knee, gently placing the dark orb on the ground before him. He removed the crystal from his shoulder and used it to draw runes from the blue magical ink it exuded.

The first thing the black and fiery beast saw was the prince, and it hated him for no reason. The dragon lunged towards the royal on its four limbs, shattering the bars of its cage in its wake.

When the beast was two maws away from devouring him, he rapidly chanted, "Sile, o bestia ignea! (x3)"

The circle of blue runes supersonically enlarged their font size by hundreds and increased its diameter to fill the arena. At that moment, the black dragon became still and levitated a bit above the ground. Blood dripped out of Zheng's nostrils, and he felt lightheaded. The feeling was strong that he wanted to give up and go limp.

"Don't give up my prince! And please hurry up!" Muller, who was still on the top of the cage, yelled to Zheng.

Zheng gathered his will, galvanised by the fact that he knew he was in a life-or-death situation. 13 seconds were left on the clock before the standstill spell on the dragon stopped working.

"I hope this one works," he muttered to himself.

He pulled out from the right pocket on his chausses a colourless orb that had the diameter of a pin and held it at his face. He incanted the new orb, "a potestatem tuam."

The orb dissipated into dust, and his body was enriched with mana. He raised his gaze at the dragon before him and incanted, "Soul of the dragon, you are mine to conquer. Nunc captivus meus es!"

Instead of trapping the dragon inside the dark orb before Zheng, the last incantation cancelled the standstill spell and began to vaporise the dragon. The beast writhed and groaned in pain.

"No!" Zheng yelled, dejected.

The soldiers at the northern end knew that this was their cue to intervene. They yelled in unison to Zheng,

"Retreat from the beast, my prince."

On the top of the cage platform, Muller watched in dejection.

Zheng was adamant about retreating. He felt that he had the process wrong. He had been trying to tame dragon souls for a while and had failed. He thought that today was going to be an exception because he thought that he had discovered an answer to a flaw he had. Yet, the taming session was going the same way as the previous ones.

Zheng said to the approaching soldiers, "Stand down. I got this."

The soldiers weren't taking any risks and continued the encroachment.

Muller was maddened by Zheng's stubbornness. He said to Zheng, "You heaven-forsaken dummy, get away from that beast."

Zheng heard Muller, and a confident smile came on his face. He replied to the blond man, "I'm a certified warrior, I can take on this beast if it gets out of hand."

He turned to the beast and said a spell: "Soul of the dragon, you are mine to conquer. Nunc captivus meus es!"

The dragon had its eyes on Zheng when he cast the spell again. The vaporisation increased in intensity. The dragon shifted its gaze from the prince to the approaching soldiers. Zheng noticed the vaporisation intensity decrease when the dragon shifted its gaze.

He thought, confused, 'what is happening?'