Without looking, Larus grabbed the first man’s dropped sword with his free hand, brought it up backward in a reverse grip, and ’blocked’ the strike.
tal rang against tal.
Larus twisted, yanking his fork free from the floorboard, and in the sa motion drove his elbow into the second swordsman’s jaw.
’CRACK.’
The man’s head snapped back, and he collapsed.
’’The dagger-wielder attacked from behind’’, both blades aid at Larus’s kidneys.
Larus spun, the sword in his hand coming up to deflect one dagger while his fork—his ridiculous dessert fork—sohow managed to catch the second blade between its tines and ’redirect’ it.
The assassin’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Larus smiled pleasantly and headbutted him.
The man staggered back, nose clearly broken.
Larus followed up with a knee to the stomach, then tossed his sword up in the air, caught it by the blade, and used the poml to strike the assassin’s temple.
The man crumpled.
’’The knife-thrower’’, seeing his companions fall, threw all six of his remaining blades at once.
Six knives flew through the air in a deadly pattern, impossible to dodge completely.
Larus didn’t try to dodge.
He moved ’forward’, into the throws, his body weaving between the blades like water flowing through rocks. One knife grazed his shoulder—the only hit that landed.
Before the knife-thrower could pull out more weapons, Larus closed the distance.
His fork hand shot forward, striking a pressure point in the man’s neck.
The assassin’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.
’’The first swordsman’’, the one whose sleeve had been pinned, had finally freed himself and was standing, weapon raised—
Larus turned, still holding his fork and the borrowed sword.
"Still want to continue?" he asked mildly.
The assassin looked at his four unconscious companions scattered around the room.
Looked at Larus, who didn’t even seem winded.
Looked at the ’fork’ still in his hand.
The assassin dropped his sword and raised his hands in surrender.
"Smart choice," Larus said.
He walked calmly back to his chair, sat down, and picked up another pastry.
"Now," he said, taking a bite, "who sent you? And please don’t lie—I’m in a good mood right now, but that could change."
The assassin, sweating and terrified, began to talk.
The guards opened the door and entered, only to freeze in shock.
The room was filled with collapsed bodies scattered across the floor. In the middle of the chaos stood Larus, calmly eating a piece of cake as if nothing had happened.
The guards stared at the scene in disbelief.
Larus looked at them and said simply, "Clear them out. Lock them in the dungeon prison and inform Her Majesty."
The guards nodded, but they didn’t move imdiately.
Because normally, around Larus, there was this aura of... softness. Like flowers floating in spring air. Gentle. Approachable. Kind.
But right now?
Right now it was like dark storm clouds were gathering around him. His presence was cold, commanding, dangerous.
He literally looked like an ’emperor’.
Not the sweet, gentle prince they’d seen all this ti.
Larus placed the empty plate on the table with precise, controlled movents. As he started walking toward the door, he deliberately stepped on one of the unconscious assassins’ hands.
’CRACK.’
The sound of breaking bones echoed through the room.
He walked outside without even looking back.
Once in the corridor, he stretched his arms casually, rolling his shoulders, and smiled easily—as if he’d just finished a pleasant afternoon workout instead of defeating five trained killers.
He had to say: these people really thought of him as an idiot.
Sending only ’five’ assassins? Had they not even investigated who he was?
He looked toward the sky through a nearby window, and his eyes glead with predatory satisfaction—like a panther that had just spotted prey.
Prince Larus of the Marouse Kingdom. The beautiful prince who married Empress Celeste, becoming her primary consort.
These fools hadn’t checked properly.
Because Prince Larus was not so normal royal ornant.
Yes, he was one of many sons of the Emperor of Marouse. Yes, he had been about to marry soone else before being sent to this empire.
But what nobody ever ntioned—what people conveniently forgot—was that Larus was one of the ’cruelest’ princes in that entire kingdom.
The only reason his father had wanted him gone, had agreed to this marriage so easily, had practically shoved him out of the kingdom—
Was because if Larus had stayed, he would have beco Emperor of Marouse himself.
By force if necessary.
Larus was not so delicate flower raised in palace luxury. Yes, he’d been trained as a graceful, refined prince from childhood. But his mother—she had been a military commander before marrying the Emperor. And she had taught him knighthood, combat, strategy, survival from the ti he could walk.
And it was common sense: any prince who survived a harem battle, a throne succession war, could ’never’ be a normal person.
But these people—whoever had sent the assassins—really thought of him as so plaything. So pretty trophy husband with no real power or skill.
Five assassins? ’Five?’
Did they really think he was so foolish prince they could easily dispose of?
Pathetic.
---
As Larus walked through the corridors, lost in thought, he suddenly encountered Heena coming from the opposite direction.
She was walking quickly, reading docunts while Secretary Chen walked beside her, pointing out specific sections and speaking in low, urgent tones. She was completely focused on the paperwork, her expression serious.
Larus looked at her, decided not to disturb her work, and simply sidestepped, moving to stand behind a nearby pillar.
Of course Heena had seen him—her awareness was too sharp to miss anything in her vicinity—but she was busy with important work. She’d been playing gas all morning with the mothers-in-law and patriarchs; now actual governance had to be done.
Larus watched her from behind the pillar, and he had to say: this woman was really sothing.
A smile slowly spread across his face—genuine fondness mixed with admiration.
She was powerful, intelligent, ruthless when necessary, but also fair. She played political gas like a master while still maintaining her principles.
He’d made the right choice marrying her.
The ’best’ choice.
---
When Heena entered her office, even she was shocked for a mont.
The entire room had been reorganized. Docunts that had been scattered across multiple tables were now neatly sorted by priority and category. Files that had been stacked haphazardly were now in proper order. Even her desk had been cleared and arranged with perfect efficiency.
If she rembered correctly, she’d told the servants to clean the ’other’ side of the office.
This side was supposed to be left as-is.
But... well, this was actually better.
’Who has that much initiative?’ she thought. ’I need to give the head butler a raise.’
But she didn’t dwell on it. There was too much work to do.
She sat down, picked up the first docunt, and imdiately dove into the endless pile of imperial business that required her attention.
Secretary Chen settled into his usual position beside her desk, ready to assist.
"Your Majesty," he said, "the first matter is the trade dispute between the northern rchants and the coastal guilds—"
"Summarize," Heena interrupted, already reading.
"The northern rchants claim the coastal guilds are inflating shipping prices to monopolize trade routes. The guilds claim the northerners are trying to bypass legitimate tariffs."
"Evidence?"
"Both sides have submitted docuntation. The guild records appear... suspiciously complete. Too perfect."
Heena’s eyes narrowed. "Fabricated?"
"Possibly. I’ve requested an independent audit."
"Good. Next?"
They worked through case after case, dispute after dispute, decision after decision.
Hours passed.
---
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