Chapter 62
The Minotaur (2)
“Pretty boy, we’re not here for you. So be a good kid and walk away, yeah?”
“Right. Our target’s the girl. Don’t try to act cool — you look like you’d start crying if someone so much as tapped you.”
The mercenaries laughed crudely as they jeered at Rozian.
But they had no idea —
Rozian wasn’t the kind of boy who’d cry from a single punch.
And those gentle-looking eyes of his were cold as ice.
“Instead of yapping about titles and ranks, how about you talk with your sword?”
As he said that, Rozian raised his sword — still sheathed — and pointed it at them.
His stance was impeccable, sharp and disciplined.
“I know Lady Jaina’s strong,” he said lightly, “but I think you should let me handle this one.”
Jaina’s eyes widened at the sight of him stepping forward to protect her.
‘But if anything goes wrong, this could blow up into a real disaster…’
Rozian turned to her with a faint smile, as if to say don’t worry.
“This is my chance to finally show you my swordsmanship, Lady Jaina.”
“What’s this brat talking about?”
“He’s saying we’re nothing special! Guess he needs a lesson, huh?”
After all, he was just a kid.
The mercenaries decided he wasn’t worth their time and gestured toward the youngest among them.
“Don’t make a mess. Just grab the girl. Knock the boy out or something.”
“Why do I always get stuck with the boring jobs? Hey, kid. It’s not too late to walk away.”
“No, it’s already too late. Even if you kneel and beg, I won’t forgive you. I’m kind of pissed off right now.”
“That mouth of yours — I’ll shut it for good!”
The mercenary swung his sheathed sword like a club.
He was a big man — far larger than most — hired by Count Nawin himself.
Whish!
Rozian stepped back lightly, dodging the blow with ease.
“You’re too slow.”
“You little—!”
The mercenary swung again and again, but Rozian dodged each strike with only the smallest movements.
Swish!
Rozian even whistled playfully, clearly mocking him.
“This is fun, but you’re not planning to end it like this, are you?”
“Damn you!”
Even in the cramped space of the shop, Rozian slipped around effortlessly, using the furniture and layout to his advantage.
The watching mercenaries began to grow irritated.
“What the hell are you doing?! Stop playing with the brat!”
“Finish it already!”
“Damn it, he’s faster than he looks!”
Shrrk!
Angered by his comrades’ shouting, the mercenary finally unsheathed his sword.
“I was trying to go easy on you, but I guess you’re begging for blood.”
Rozian just smiled.
“You couldn’t even graze my sleeve with your scabbard — what makes you think drawing your sword will help?”
Jaina’s expression hardened as sunlight flashed off the naked blade.
“Maybe I should step in—”
“Mrrrrow!”
Beside her, Izren the cat meowed sharply, grabbing her sleeve.
“You’re stopping me? But…”
“Myao!”
“I know His Highness is capable. I just didn’t expect him to move that fast. But if he’s even scratched by that blade, it could be serious. I don’t have the power to heal him.”
“Meow.”
“…You already knew that?”
Jaina blinked, staring into Izren’s amethyst eyes. Then her expression softened.
“You trust His Highness, don’t you, Lord Izren?”
Before her words finished, there was a loud thud!
One of the mercenaries had tripped over his own foot and crashed to the ground.
“Oh dear, why’d you go and draw your sword like that? So scary.”
Taking advantage of the moment, Rozian kicked the fallen man square in the face.
“Ugh… gahh…”
Rozian then unsheathed his sword with a smooth shring! — and in the blink of an eye, drove the blade downward toward the man’s neck.
Scarlet liquid splattered across the floor.
But in truth, Rozian’s sword had only pierced the ground beside him.
The mercenary fainted instantly, believing he’d been struck through the throat.
“Well, that was boring. Anyone else want to try?”
Rozian twirled his sword lazily in one hand.
“By the way, Lady Jaina — did you catch what they said earlier? About a ‘young master’ and ‘young lady’ they’d messed with?”
“Oh, that… yes.”
Jaina quickly explained the trouble involving the heirs of House Nawin.
Hearing it, Rozian tilted his head slightly, his face expressionless.
Then, in a tone completely at odds with his handsome looks, he sneered.
“So Count Nawin and his wife are so obsessed with their children that they’d even hire mercenaries to do their dirty work…”
“Your Highness!” Jaina cried suddenly.
In that instant, the humiliated mercenaries attacked, taking advantage of Rozian’s distraction.
“Raaah!”
The remaining men charged all at once.
“Stay here, Lady Jaina.”
Rozian moved lightly toward the door, drawing them outside.
Fighting outnumbered opponents in a small room wasn’t ideal — he needed more space.
“Get him!”
The mercenaries lunged, but he slipped out of reach like smoke.
“Too slow.”
Rozian spun around, channeling mana into his fist, and slammed an uppercut into the nearest man’s jaw.
Thwack!
“Ugh—!”
The man collapsed, biting his tongue as he fell, unable even to scream properly.
At the same time, Rozian struck another in the solar plexus with his elbow, then swept the legs out from a third.
“Damn it, stop him!”
It wasn’t a knight’s fighting style — no elegant dueling forms, no etiquette.
Aristocrats preferred honorable one-on-one combat.
But Rozian’s teacher, Elia, trained him for real battle.
Known as the most rigid person in the Empire, she had one flexible rule — when fighting, efficiency mattered more than honor.
She’d once fought the Demon King himself; she valued survival above all.
Clang!
Rozian’s mana flared as he swung his hand.
The incoming sword shattered on impact.
His opponent screamed in disbelief.
“W-what the hell was that?!”
“Your sword broke, that’s all. Unless it’s forged with mana, hit the weak spot and it’ll snap easily.”
He explained calmly, almost helpfully.
In moments, three mercenaries were down. Only one remained — the farthest one, trembling.
“Y-you… little monster…”
The man raised his sword, but his hands and knees were shaking uncontrollably.
“A grown mercenary, trembling before a kid…”
Rozian straightened, breathing evenly now, and spoke quietly.
“I’ll let you go. Someone has to walk back and tell Count Nawin — Rozian el Shifor Delaide will be paying him a visit soon.”
“W-what…? Wait, you mean… Your Highness, Prince Rozian?”
“But before that,” Rozian added, voice suddenly cold, “you’ll pay for touching an innocent child.”
The mercenaries who were still conscious felt their stomachs drop.
They had just attacked someone they absolutely shouldn’t have.
“My mother told me not to draw my sword without permission…” Rozian murmured, pulling the shining white blade free from its sheath. “But I think she’ll understand this time.”
The mercenaries went pale as death.
“I’ll just cut a few tendons — that should be enough to make sure you never stand again. A fair bit of revenge for Lady Jaina, don’t you think?”
He smiled sweetly as he took one slow, deliberate step forward.
Moments later, Jaina stepped outside and froze.
The mercenaries lay scattered on the ground, groaning.
‘As expected of a protagonist — monstrous talent.’
Rozian had stripped off their coats to cover the bloodstains, so she didn’t realize he’d used his sword.
When he turned to her and smiled, his expression was as innocent as a newborn calf’s.
“It’s the first time I’ve fought for real, outside of practice matches…”
Then, suddenly, Rozian leaned against her.
He was much taller, his head resting against her shoulder.
She could feel his quick heartbeat, his rough breathing.
His flushed cheeks and long lashes caught her off guard.
She’d thought she was used to beauty, having lived among the mages of the Tower — but up close, she couldn’t look away.
‘Now that I think about it… His Highness Rozian really is handsome…’
Rozian murmured softly, still leaning on her.
“Hey, do you think… I was at least a little helpful just now?”
His voice was unusually gentle.
Jaina nodded.
“Of course. Thanks to Your Highness, things didn’t escalate further. I’m grateful.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Then hold my hand.”
“…Like this?”
She took his hand — warm, trembling slightly.
For all his confidence, he’d been tense the whole time.
The uncharacteristic vulnerability made her heart soften.
Without thinking, she raised both hands and gently patted his back.
“…!”
Rozian stiffened, startled by her touch.
Then, a shiver ran through him — not of fear, but of something far more intoxicating.
