A cheeky little bird

Some guards approached the center of the courtyard. Their expressions were confused as they questioned what was happening there.

"General Fleddblyt, is everything okay over there?" one of them inquired.

"Stand back!" Thelus shouted vehemently, causing the guards to stop approaching. However, they and some palace servants remained even more puzzled.

"This is just the prince's spell training, so get back to your duties," Thelus added, with a more normal tone of voice.

The guards bowed respectfully and slowly moved away, but they continued to watch the center of the courtyard for a while as they returned to their posts.

Thelus couldn't allow more people to get involved in the situation, so he said something that would calm them for a while. After all, training against magic was part of the routine in the lives of almost everyone seeking to become a skilled swordsman.

After getting rid of the guards, he needed to quell the prince's fervor as quickly as possible, for the prince's own good. Suddenly, Thelus felt something very cold touch him. He looked at his arm and noticed that a dark spot had appeared around the small wound. Beneath that spot, his flesh seemed rotten and petrified, as hard as stone. The pain caused by this was unbelievably intense.

To add to his astonishment, this spot began to spread in all directions across his skin. The pain increased when the sunlight hit it. It was truly an abominable spell, General Thelus thought.

"This will spread quickly like poison, Master," Laugs whispered, showing no concern for his master's suffering.

He knew that once the Infernal Flames touched something, they would consume everything that was alive, causing a painful death until nothing remained. Only a high-level healing spell could reverse this curse. Therefore, if he fully mastered this power, he would become an unbeatable mage, Laugs pondered, his eyes filled with anticipation.

"Prince... think about what you're doing... do you think you'll gain anything from this?"

"Don't worry, Master. When this fight is over, I will heal you with another spell from the scroll."

As Thelus listened to Prince Laugs' words with disbelief, he didn't want to believe that the person before him was truly the prince he held in such high regard. This must be an impostor who had taken his appearance, while the real prince was safe somewhere in the palace. He would be very happy if that were the case... but it wasn't.

"You won't give up with just this, will you, Master?" Laugs continued. "Come on, pick up your sword and finish this fight."

The prince spoke seriously, and more than that, he seemed out of control, Thelus observed. Was Laugs just playing a tasteless joke that had gone too far? Or was he already under the sinister effect of that spell, causing him to act so irrationally?

However, Thelus already knew the answer; he just didn't want to accept it. After all, if a mage were corrupted by the sinister effect of a spell, they would be halfway to becoming something feared by all: a demon. In that case, the prince could never return to who he was, and there would be no other fate for him but a dishonorable death.

"Forgive me for this, Prince Laugs... but I must stop you!"

"Come, Master," Laugs said, with a bold smile.

Thelus needed to act before it was too late for the prince; he didn't have time to think about consequences. With that in mind, he crouched, struggling due to the pain, and retrieved his sword. Then he stood up and prepared to fight seriously, whether he wanted to or not.

At that moment, Prince Laugs looked at the sword in his master's hand, in its worn state; it would break at any moment. He walked over to a barrel, grabbed a new sword, and threw it to General Thelus.

"Take it, Master," Laugs said, and his voice sounded almost like a command. "It will be more interesting this way..."

Thelus accepted the exchange gladly and grabbed the new sword. After that, they resumed the fight.

The duel became completely different from before. Thelus had never seen the prince fight with so much determination, and he could barely repel his attacks. These were strikes that would take the life of a less experienced person, and even though the prince used the same techniques taught by him, at that moment, they were executed with the skill of a veteran swordsman.

"If you train like this when your father is watching, I'm sure he'll be proud, Prince Laugs."

"Mages don't need swords, Master," Laugs retorted.

Thelus had always recognized the prince's skills, whether as a mage or swordsman. Laugs was what everyone could call a prodigy. Still, Thelus had never imagined that he knew so much about fencing. Or was that also a consequence of that scroll?

Suddenly, the pain in his dominant hand began to hinder his movements. But Thelus wouldn't let something so insignificant stop him from saving the prince. He knew he needed to keep the prince away from that enchanted sword as quickly as possible; maybe that way, the spell would be broken, and Laugs would return to normal. And this time, he also wanted to avoid being touched by the flames because that small wound was already causing him so many problems.

But a sudden spasm caused his arm to contract as he tried to fend off the prince's attacks. His fists lost strength, his fingers loosened, and they twisted violently as if they no longer had bones. Finally, the sword fell from his hand.

"Curses!" Thelus cursed under his breath.

At the moment this happened, the prince was already two steps away and had struck before he lost the sword. Inevitably, his movement continued, with the tip of the enchanted blade aimed at Thelus's chest. It was too late to do anything, Thelus thought. So, he just opened his eyes wide and stared at the young blonde boy in front of him, while he waited for the last moments of his life to end, feeling immense sadness at seeing such a wicked expression on Laugs's face.

"Don't do it!"

The unexpected shout of a child pierced their ears. In the same instant, the brown-haired boy threw himself against the general's massive body and diverted him from the path of the prince's blade, which only cut through thin air.