Power.

It was now midday at the Fourth Prince's estate, and a flurry of footsteps echoed through the prince's home, accompanied by the chatter of young voices, signaling the arrival of the mage academy students.

Led by Mia, they were given a tour of the prince's estate, and perhaps it was special in itself. The manor's state of neglect did well to capture the essence of Aric's title as the Forgotten Prince.

Everyone knew the story: the youngest and only one of the four princes to not be a prodigy, but instead an illness-ridden disappointment.

They had come for the tour, and they had come to see him as well, but nothing more than how one would go to see an animal in a zoo—most in amusement to see what a peasant prince would look like, a few in pity, but none in anticipation of being recruited under his house.

The tour around the prince's estate ended as they escorted the students towards the courtyard. Although the rest of the estate had been left in shambles, the courtyard was well tended, courtesy of Aric's now-deceased caretaker.

She had loved the flowers.

Aric sat in silence at the far end of the courtyard as the academy students were led to him. He sipped from the tea he had made himself before dropping the cup on the table beside him.

'Serina,' he mentally noted, spotting her in the crowd.

He also turned to the imperial watch guard that accompanied the group; those two were crucial parts of his plan.

The watch guard was far different from the guards that had been sent to his estate, who now stood around the courtyard. Unlike the weaklings with a sword and helmet he had gotten, the watch guards were rankers in the imperial army, loyal to the crown alone, and that meant loyalty to the royal family.

One watch-guard, although the lowest ranking position in the imperial army, could oppose a hundred men single-handedly. They were the most easily seen imperial guards, but still commanded respect and fear wherever they went.

Aric watched as an old man with hair and beard colored white with time approached him.

"Greetings, Your Highness. I am their supervisor, and with your permission, some students would like to display their abilities for you."

'Kalisto.'

Aric knew the mage quite well; the old man had eventually become a member of the Third Prince's entourage, and even then Aric could tell their relationship spanned way back. This old bastard knew what he was doing.

"Go on," Aric granted the request.

"Alright then," Kalisto turned to the students and the other supervisors that accompanied them. "Anyone who has something to show the Fourth Prince, please step forward."

The old mage's announcement hung in the air a moment, not a single word said and not a single person stepping forward.

Kalisto then repeats himself, even though it's clear he was heard the first time, and still no one stepped forward.

Aric watched the scene unfold as he picked up his tea cup to take another sip, unbothered by the shenanigans. Even without the fact he had experienced this exact moment in his last life, this outcome was to be expected.

Who would want to ally with a prince who could barely carry himself up, much less be part of the race for the crown? That was the quickest way to kill their potential.

As the silence stretched, intentionally so by Kalisto, amused glances and snickers began to be exchanged by two of Aric's estate guards. They chuckled at the embarrassment the prince faced.

And perhaps that was even more disgraceful than anything else—it showed everyone present that even the guards of his home had no respect for Aric and openly mocked him.

Then suddenly, a single boy stepped forward before Aric could respond.

"Oh?" The Fourth Prince raised an eyebrow.

The young mage, who seemed a bit younger than Aric, held a loaded crossbow in his hand as he bowed to greet the prince.

"My name is Lerai, Your Highness," the boy greeted.

"Greetings, Lerai," Aric finished a sip from his tea cup before putting it down. "What do you have for me?"

"A crossbow."

The boy's words caused the crowd of students to burst into discreet laughter. Instead of a display of magical power, Lerai had brought a normal weapon.

Aric could see the young mage immediately begin to panic; his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he looked down.

The prince stood from his chair, walking over to the boy and putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him.

As the young mage looked up at the reassuring smile of the Fourth Prince, he could feel a wave of confidence rush through him.

"Well, tell me about your crossbow," Aric said to Lerai, his voice calming.

"It... uh... it's engraved with a magical rune that makes it shoot arrows slightly faster than normal, making them stronger and more deadly."

Following his words, more subtle chuckles erupted among the students. Then, loud laughter from the bald estate guard shot across the courtyard; he was not even attempting to be discreet anymore, clearly and blatantly disrespecting the prince.

"The only child that stepped out is one that made a crossbow with a slightly faster arrow," the man laughed to the other red-haired guard, who chuckled with him.

"Is something funny? Have I missed a joke?" Aric asked, holding and inspecting the boy's crossbow.

"No, Aric, please continue checking out the slightly better crossbow," the bald guard responded.

Aric gazed at the muscular guard for a moment; an awkward silence settled in the courtyard with nobody saying a single word.

"Yes," Aric muttered, then raised the crossbow and aimed it at the guard. "Maybe I should test it on you."

The bald guard laughed aloud hysterically as he shook his head. "No need to do something like that; you might faint from holding that weapon too long."

The guard followed his own joke with more laughter while the rest of the entire courtyard fell silent; even the red haired guard who had been chuckling with him knew it had now gone too far.

"You must be under the impression I won't do it," Aric said, still aiming the crossbow at the guard.

With confidence and an intimidating stride, the guard stepped closer towards Aric before speaking.

"As a matter of fact, Prince, I don't think you can."

Aric laughed darkly, tilting his head slightly.

"Well, you were never really good at thinking, were you?"

Aric shot, the arrow releasing from the crossbow and penetrating the skull of the guard. It was instant; the man was dead before he could even react.

Gasps and subtle screams began to echo from the students as they watched the guard fall to his death, while Aric turned to his red-haired companion that had been snickering as well.

"Watch-guard," Aric called.

The fully armored imperial guard came forward, standing before the Fourth Prince.

"Your Highness?"

"For the crime of lèse-majesté, cut off his arm," Aric commanded, gesturing to the red-haired man.

"Yes, Your Highness." The imperial watch guard seemed to blur, reaching the red-haired guard in an instant, and forcing him to his knees, ready to take his limb.

The red-haired man began to scream pleas for mercy as everyone could only stare in shock and disbelief at what unfolded.

"Please, Your Highness, please forgive me, Your Highness!"

He screamed relentlessly as he attempted a pointless struggle with the watch-guard.

Hearing his pleas, Aric raised his arm.

"Stop," he commanded the watch-guard, who swiftly obeyed.

"I am a man of justice and fairness, and for that reason, I shall not take your arm," Aric declared.

"Thank you, my prince," the red-haired guard immediately showed his gratitude.

"Instead," the prince continued, "since you committed the same crime as the other fool, you shall be given the same punishment: death."

Aric turned to the watch guard. "Bring me his head."

The imperial guard did not hesitate at the command, pinning down the red-haired man before swiftly drawing his sword and cleaving through his neck with it in one brutal stroke.

Mouths were left agape as the guard's headless body crumpled to the floor and his head rolled.

The imperial guard then picked up the head by its red hair, walking over to the prince and placing it on the table beside him, to which the prince simply nodded at a job well done.

It was a grim and blatant show of power.

As the terror-stricken students and onlookers stared in horror, Aric nonchalantly turned back to them, and then with a calm, almost bored expression, he asked:

"My apologies, where were we?"