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They couldn’t believe their ears and eyes; it seemed as though the weak and sickly prince had just challenged them, while gripping a dagger tightly.

The system had responded immediately to Aric’s reply. Upon prompting, he felt a surge of warmth spreading through his body. It felt as though adrenaline was flowing through his veins in copious amounts.

Strength shot through his weakened limbs as he pushed himself off the ground.

’It worked…’

Just as the floating guide had said, Aric’s health had significantly increased. He didn’t feel the utter weakness that plagued him because of his sickness.

His frail body felt stronger, more agile, and the constant exhaustion that weighed him down vanished.

Aric clenched his fist as he felt the rush, his mind sharpened, and the fear that had overtaken him mere moments ago had completely fizzled away, replaced by a cold determination.

"Don’t be a fool," one of the masked men warned. "We were told to leave you alone, but I’m certain no one would miss you."

Their words did nothing to deter Aric as he began his approach towards the masked killers.

"Well, if you want to die that badly, why not?" the man decided to face the prince head-on.

The first of them, the one who had slit the womans throat swung his machete at Aric, a weak and pathetic attempt at an attack. Whether it was simply because he was completely untrained or because he underestimated the prince, either way, it was flawed, and Aric, a trained warrior who had survived many battles, could see it.

By slightly nudging to the left, Aric evaded the swing of the masked man’s machete, his eyes locking on the man’s torso, left open as a result of the missed attack.

The man had no time to react before Aric drove the dagger into his side, slicing through his intestines and twisting. The man let out a scream of pain, and it was at this moment his two other companions realized something was wrong—different even—about the sickly prince.

They rushed at Aric, and although armed, it was clear from their approach they were untrained. Both were no more than animalistic men with weapons, but what did that mean against a seasoned warrior with a burning desire to kill?

Well, death.

Aric ducked under their wild swings, sidestepped their clumsy thrusts, and delivered every counterattack with a precision that terrified them. It soon became clear that even fighting two against one, this was unwinnable for them.

Aric noticed as one of the men stepped back, attempting to retreat. The prince opposed, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling the man into his dagger’s blade, piercing it into his chest.

"Now, I really can’t let any of you leave," Aric muttered, his narrowed eyes falling on the last remaining man as the stabbed one fell to his death.

The man swiftly turned, deciding on escape as he started to dash to the right in an attempt to exit the hallway.

Aric tried to pursue, but quickly realized that despite the boost, his health was far from its peak; each movement still took painful effort.

He let out a deep exhale, watching the man running to the end of the hall.

He gripped the handle of the dagger, stretched his left arm to mark his aim, while simultaneously winding back his right hand that held the dagger, and then with scary precision, he tossed the dagger.

It flew across the hall, before swiftly finding its mark at the back of the masked man’s neck. His legs began to twist and fail as he fell to the floor, bleeding to death.

The hallway was now littered with the bodies of the slain, each part of it stained with blood and the remnants of a massacre.

Aric exhaled again. He knew he didn’t have much time left before the effects of the boost wore off, but before that, he couldn’t leave the scene as it was. It was far too early to have anyone on his back.

Breathing heavily, he stepped back to survey the carnage around him.

He could feel the weakness returning; he had only seconds before his body went back to its weak, frail state, so he immediately began setting the stage of the scene to his preference.

He began to drag the bodies of the men into position, placing them in a way that suggested some kind of struggle with his caretakers, making it seem like they had defended themselves before having their throats slit.

He placed the dagger in the hands of one of the dead caretakers while positioning their body as though they had thrown it at the last escaping masked man before succumbing to their wounds.

As the last seconds of the rejuvenation boost counted down, Aric staggered to the door of his room, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. His vision began to blur as the red screen popped up and flared before him.

[ Rejuvenation Boost Expired ]

The strength he had felt very swiftly left his body, and he immediately collapsed through his doorway.

"At least this time I avenged you…" he proclaimed to his fallen caretakers dryly before turning to the corpses he had positioned. "Perfect," he muttered weakly.

He had created the narrative he wanted: the weak, cowardly prince came out to see his caretakers being murdered, then swiftly turned to run back into his chambers before collapsing onto the floor.

"Yes, that’s good. You must all remain blind for a while longer. My vengeance must not be seen until the last moment, when it is far too late for you… bastards."

Then, unconsciousness claimed the forgotten prince.

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