A Guardian's Shame

[Kuzan POV]

Suppressing a chuckle, I watched as Garfield ripped through the carriage like a hot knife through butter. His instincts were razor-sharp, though driven purely by his insatiable hunger. The guards' disciplined march dissolved into chaos, their panicked screams filling the air as they scrambled to respond. The scent of fear hung heavy, quickening the pulse of a predator like Garfield.

He was relentless. His powerful jaws clamped onto the carriage roof, tearing it away with a single, effortless motion. Peering inside, he sought the prey he intended to bargain with, his hunger momentarily set aside for something more valuable.

The guards frantically formed a defensive perimeter, weapons drawn and pointed, but none dared to approach the towering behemoth that was Garfield. Their fear was palpable, almost tangible, and it amused me.

'So much for subtlety,' I mused, slipping through the shadows to get closer. My original plan was in shambles the moment Garfield took matters into his own paws, but I wasn't about to let this opportunity slip by.

Garfield, almost bored now, flicked away a few soldiers who ventured too close. The carriage was in ruins, its roof crumpled on the ground, exposing the interior for all to see. And there, inside, was the person of interest. A young man, pale with fear, trembling as he tried to shield himself from the feline menace.

'Perfect,' I thought, a grin spreading across my face.

This was the "juicy piece of intelligence" I had hoped for.

With the guards distracted and the young noble paralyzed by fear, slipping into the carriage was almost too easy. I moved like a shadow, silent and unseen, until I was right behind the terrified prince.

"Good evening," I whispered into his ear, relishing the way he jumped at the sound of my voice. His head snapped around, eyes wide with terror as he saw me.

"My liege," a man beside the prince moved to shield him with one hand, the other reaching for his sword.

"Stay back."

His voice was sharp, but it wasn't a threat to me as one might expect in such a situation. His words were directed at the prince, a command to stay out of harm's way.

After what must have felt like an eternity to him, he hesitated, then decided against drawing his sword, much to my disappointment.

"Why the hesitation?" I asked in a lighthearted tone, extending my hand for a handshake. He half-heartedly obliged, and I was curious why he refrained from attempting to 'dispatch' the threat I posed.

His response only deepened my interest. He simply sat down, his face a picture of utter dejection.

"Don't worry," I spoke to the prince in a reassuring tone, trying not to scare him further. "I'm just here to talk."

Unfortunately, my words did little to ease the worry etched on his face.

"Think of this as a negotiation between two nations. I want something you have, and you certainly want something from me."

I smiled, trying to appear inviting, hoping the prince would take the bait. I turned my attention back to him.

"Why don't we sit down in peace and discuss my proposal? I'm sure we both have questions that need answering. What do you say?"

But instead of responding, he looked to his guard, silently pleading for help. His plea was met with cold indifference.

"Deal with him yourself, Michael," the man said, before calmly exiting the carriage. He took command of the soldiers outside, calming the chaos without a trace of urgency.

[Stubborn POV]

He was at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the events that had just transpired.

Moments ago, he was prepared to face certain death. Whether he fell to the beast's fangs or perished fighting, he was ready to go down swinging. In those split seconds, there was no time for questions, only a desperate focus on the immediate threat.

'Why had this beast, so tame moments before, suddenly turned aggressive?'

It was a question that would have echoed endlessly in the commander's mind, had it not been for the presence of this… 'man' before him.

'Now it all makes sense.'

Stubborn finally understood why the beast had acted so docile before unleashing its fury.

'It's following orders…' he thought, sinking deeper into his despair. '…Not that it matters anymore.'

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Stubborn's mind was not preoccupied with his usual concerns. He wasn't thinking about his brigade, the kingdom, or his dual roles as the prince's guard and mentor. Even in the heat of battle, his focus was usually split between protecting the prince and neutralizing threats.

But now, when his student needed him the most, he couldn't bring himself to draw his sword.

He realized with crushing certainty that his resolve meant nothing in the face of this reality.

'I'd be dead before I even touched my sword.'

His response to this 'thing' was meaningless. Every ounce of battle-hardened experience told him he would die if it wanted him dead.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

The true source of his despair wasn't just the insurmountable gap in power between him and this 'thing'…

'Maybe if I were a few years younger, I might have ruined this moment with my foolishness'

He had grown in experience and years, from a hot-headed youth into an esteemed war general, commanding a third of the kingdom's army.

He had fought in wars that left men scarred.

He had witnessed scenes of utter despair and devastation—cities looted, states burned to the ground.

These experiences had given him perspective, helping him understand his limitations.

They had instilled in him the mindset needed to fulfill his duties.

Most importantly, they had taught him when to act and when to do nothing…

Even more than the countless battles he had faced, this moment forced upon him a brutal and undeniable truth: his own insignificance.

He was insignificant.

Unneeded.

The creature's demeanor made it painfully clear that it cared nothing for his presence, treating him as little more than a shadow. The realization struck him with such force that he knew he had no place in the carriage. He wasn't a protector in this situation—just an observer, powerless and irrelevant.

So, he decided to step away, to find some semblance of purpose elsewhere. If not as the prince's mentor, then at least as the commander of his men. He would do whatever he could, even if it was something as simple as managing his brigade.

But as he rose to leave, a wave of despair washed over him, sinking his shoulders and widening his eyes in a cold understanding.

The weight of his failure was a crushing burden, rooting him to the spot. With a voice that barely carried any authority, he ordered his men to stand down.

He had failed as a mentor the moment this man reached the prince.

He had failed as a commander the moment this man infiltrated his ranks.

There was no resisting this force.

The significance of this meeting superseded his strength.

He held neither the physical power nor the political eloquence to intervene in this talk.

He felt ashamed, leaving such matters to the prince he was supposed to protect.

'He's much too inexperienced to deal with this man…'

Stubborn lamented that Michael had taken on this challenge.

'If only I hadn't pushed him to come… I thought it would help him grow. How could I have known it would lead to this?'

His heart refused to move past his failure…

'If only she had been here instead…'

He knew with certainty that the only one qualified to negotiate with such an entity was the queen.

Lost in his regrets, he shook his head, trying to rid himself of these useless thoughts.

Now, all he could do was wait, praying for a miracle that somehow, the prince would be able to earn this being's approval…

[Prince Michael POV]

To be the prince.

It was as much a burden as it was a gift.

This phrase was common in Alkavia, one he had heard time and time again, particularly from his eldest sister.

But never had those words resonated more deeply in Michael's mind than they did now.

The young prince gritted his teeth, ignoring the blood that had started dripping from his eyes.

Instead, his gaze narrowed further as he summoned every ounce of willpower to keep from looking away.

'This feeling…'

It wasn't the being's obvious strength that captivated him…

Nor was it his words…

'It's familiar…'

His greatest asset, the Gift of Observation, which allowed him to peer directly into a person's emotions, had been rendered useless. The very gift that had brought him countless successes failed him when he needed it most, much like his master, leaving him to fend for himself.

'It feels like a mask or veil is obscuring my gaze.'

It was an experience he had faced with only one other individual, leaving him at a loss.

Still, he was the prince of Alkavia, renowned for his eloquence and charm. In but a moment, he composed himself, not fully grasping the true strength of the man sitting before him.

Even so, he was the prince, capable of steering the conversation in such a way as not to upset his guest…

"How can I help you, sir…" he trailed off, silently inviting the man to finish the sentence for him.

Speaking informally was an easy choice, given the man's relaxed demeanor…

"Just call me the Forest King."

'So he's a king?' The prince's mind raced, trying to process the information, no matter how little.

Typically, he would spend days, if not weeks, learning about those with whom he was to negotiate. It was a strategy recommended by his master, ensuring he did not come to rely solely on his Gift.

So, although he was walking into this blind, he wasn't foolish enough to take this negotiation lightly.

"How can I be of help? If you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them for you." He offered his assistance in a cordial tone, wanting to convey his friendliness—though he had little choice.

"First, I have some questions, young prince…"

"Answer them truthfully, and in return, you'll earn more for your kingdom than the Dryads could ever provide."

The figure leaned closer, his face inches from Michael's. "But for that, I need you to open up your heart and speak no lies. Can you do that, little one?"

"Can you show me your sincerity, resolve yourself to not lie, and earn fortune beyond this world?"

[Kuzan POV]

The young man slowly nodded in response to my query, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and resignation. Much to my joy and surprise, the condition for the use of my most underdeveloped skill had been met without delay.

'He's more capable than I expected.'

I was growing impatient. After weeks holed up in this forest, I was eager to move on and see new sights.

But my first priority was finding a new 'base.'

'Exploring this world without proper preparation, knowledge, and tools would be foolish.'

I needed a backer, support to save me some trouble. It was the very reason Yujiro had maintained ties with the United States, despite caring for nothing but strength.

Having a nation to serve your every whim…

'The convenience is extraordinary.'

More importantly, it would increase the efficiency at which I gained greater strength.

I couldn't even begin to imagine the resources the nations of this world possessed.

'From artifacts to magics, to potions, to medicine, to weapons, to armors… not to mention the martial arts and ways to fight, and who knows what else?'

Although I wouldn't call myself an expert, I'd watched my fair share of isekai anime to know the clichés.

So, I took the simplest and most effective route to gaining unparalleled strength…

'[Extract Knowledge]'

Satisfying the use of my skill had been smoother than expected, a relief given its incredible potential. The ability to extract knowledge directly from the minds of others—watching their lives unfold as if in a movie—was undeniably powerful. Yet, as with all things, this skill had its limitations. It required the target's full consent, a condition more challenging to meet than one might think.

Fear, though an effective tool, was far from a perfect solution. It often pushed the target into a defensive state, making them more likely to lie or withhold information out of sheer desperation. Torture, though a means to break someone, took time, and time was not a luxury I had in abundance. The process needed to be quick, smooth, and efficient—ideally without the mess of broken spirits and bloodshed.

As I began to delve into the prince's memories, his life unfurled before me like a well-worn book. I watched, studied, and absorbed every detail, learning about this world with each passing second. The opportunities it presented, the dangers lurking in its shadows, and the customs considered "normal" by its inhabitants became clearer.

State secrets, though intriguing, paled in comparison to the vast knowledge I was uncovering. However, despite my focus on extracting useful information, there was one individual in the prince's memories I couldn't ignore. This person, glimpsed briefly in the stream of his recollections, seemed to possess an enigmatic significance.

[Prince Michael POV]

The atmosphere inside the carriage was suffocating. The being across from me—this so-called "Forest King"—had closed his eyes, his face unreadable as if lost in deep thought. The silence was almost unbearable, my heart pounding in my chest, each beat a reminder of the precarious situation I was in.

I couldn't take it any longer. My anxiety was beginning to overwhelm me. Just as I was about to speak, the being's eyes snapped open, and a wide grin spread across his face. A low chuckle escaped his lips, growing louder and more menacing until it became a full-blown cackle.

"HA̖͖͕̞͇͗ͮͣ͆̆͊HA̢̛͕͙͖͓ͥ͆͌̀̈̌͜H̵̨̼͔͙ͯͣͫ̂̑̑̂͠ͅA̮ͪH̹̬͒ͫ́̔͌̿ͅA͂H̴̓̑A!̴̶̛͔̼̜͙̗ͫͧ̍͠"

His laughter echoed through the carriage, reverberating off the walls, seeping through the cracks, and spreading out into the night. The soldiers outside froze, their bodies trembling as fear gripped their hearts. Even their commander's attempts to calm them were futile, the sound of that eerie laughter sinking into their bones, paralyzing them with terror.

My heart pounded in my chest, the sound of his laughter rattling through my mind. It was the laughter of someone beyond reason—something had pushed him to the edge of sanity. The air in the carriage grew thick, suffocating, as if the very atmosphere had turned against me.

Then, as suddenly as it began, the laughter stopped. The silence that followed was even more terrifying, an empty void that pressed down on me with an unbearable weight. I couldn't bring myself to speak, to move, to even breathe. I was trapped, caught in the gaze of a being whose intentions I could no longer predict.

He opened his eyes slowly, revealing a madness that made my blood run cold. His gaze, once merely unsettling, had transformed into something far more dangerous—something I couldn't even begin to understand.

"I've changed my mind," he said, his voice calm but laced with a manic undertone.

"I want to meet the Queen."