Uranium: The Jinxed Prince
The Jinxed Prince 19th

"You'd better have a good reason to wake me up in the middle of the night!"

"Your Majesty, please don't be angry. I'd like to report everything went smoothly to date."

"All right, then?"

"...."

"Why are you silent? Is there a problem?"

"Your Majesty, 'he' is here."

"'He'? You mean..."

"Jinxed Prince."

"How come? Didn't you see him walking north?"

"It's true, Your Majesty. I also don't understand why that 'monster' is here."

"Ha! Who would have thought that unlucky prince gave his life voluntarily to the guild I built myself! Look, if there's a chance just kill him! The longer he lives, the more people suffer from it."

"Ready to do it, Your Majesty. Then there's one more thing: Agatha Mayers is here."

"Whatchu mean? I never did... Ah, so it looks, Isaac! That girl must have underestimated me because I asked her to side with me."

"What should I do?"

"For now, stick to the main plan. After the plan was successfully executed, the rest I handed over to you and 'Zein'."

"Okay, Your Majesty."

***

The sound of Shawn's footsteps echoed along the passageway. The Herald's words still lingered in his mind.

"I will allow you to follow this hunt, provided that in 3 days you can bring me 100 wolf heads that you killed!"

Killing is not a big deal for Shawn. In the forest, he has often done it—entah to hunted animals and hired killers who come. But what disturbed the young man's mind were the words of Margaret who came in the midst of their conversation.

"Let me accompany him throughout the hunt."

Margaret's sword ability need not be doubted—that's obvious. Shawn was uncomfortable. The impression he had of Margaret at this time could not be said to be good. Rather than Margaret, maybe the girl named Vio was better.

Shawn suddenly stopped, throwing a glance out the window. The moonlight shone in the darkness of the night, allowing Shawn's netra to catch a glimpse of the field where he trained earlier. For a moment, the young man recalled the annoying voice of the child not knowing manners. Usually the sound will color Shawn's days once the moon cements its position in the sky until the sun rises the next day.

With that nature, hopefully he doesn't make trouble that could get him kicked out of the inn.

"Are you thinking about the terms of the Herald?" The heavy voice made Shawn look up. He was the masked man Shawn saw in the room earlier. His body is taller than Shawn with the typical body shape of a swordsman, very sturdy and sturdy. A red mask covers the entire face, leaving a pair of green beads from the gaps in the mask.

"If you want, I can get the Herald to cancel that condition. But of course, after that you have to go," the man continued as soon as he arrived.

Shawn's right eyebrow is up. Somehow feel familiar about something from the man in front of him. The blue bead behind the contact lens stared at the full sight.

"Alright, forget that you don't like my offer. Just say it whenever you change your mind." After a while the man chose to take his eyes out the window. "By the way, tomorrow will be bright."

Shawn followed the man's line of sight. In Lionheart, there is a belief that the perfect full moon in winter signifies the next day must be bright. Without rain or snow. Without disaster or disaster. Without misfortune. "Sunny" in the lightest sense.

In response to the words just now, Shawn just blinked. During his stay in the forest, he had witnessed various things and according to him the myth was not always true. There was once a year even though the full moon shone very bright at night, the next morning it even snowed.

"What's your name? I'm curious because Agatha talked about you so much." The man looked at Shawn. "I mean your pseudonym. I have absolutely no intention of digging up your personal information."

""Pseudonym'?" shawn's reflexes don't understand.

The man blinked, fell silent for a while, then sighed with the movement of his head that looked back at the moon. "It's good that you don't tell your real name to people you're with only temporarily. It's for your safety, too."

Shawn was able to catch the faint vibrations in the man's voice. A way of speaking that somehow feels familiar.

"If you want, you can use the name 'Noah'."

Shawn followed the man's eye movements which suddenly glanced at his hand. "Why?" shawn asked worriedly when the man just kept quiet after talking at length.

The man behind the mask nodded. "Talent is different from determination. Although you have now mastered the sword base, it does not guarantee the ability of your sword in the future. May salvation always be with you" said the man as he walked away from Shawn.

The clattering of steps along the passage accompanied the man's journey. Various thoughts alternately approached, until then scattered by a voice. "Now do you care about him?" the cynical words made the man stop his steps in the passageway, turning to the blond girl who had been standing there for a moment while leaning against the wall. "'Noah', the lucky man in the Legend of the Flood. Only he is directly saved by the Almighty because of his kindness and heart. Giving that name to someone is like saying, 'May salvation always be with you. Live, be happy, even if you are the only one left in this world.'."

The forehead behind the mask was wrinkled, upset at Agatha's behavior. As if her vision could pierce through the mask she was wearing, the girl laughed, then embraced the man's arm. "I didn't mean to make fun of you. I was just curious, when for years you never spoke to him intentionally. Why do you care about him now?"

The man behind the mask fell silent, feeling his heart beating as his distance from the girl got too close. Moments later, he chose to break away from Agatha's embrace, glancing at Shawn's back who had already moved away. "I never cared for him."

***

Blood splashed everywhere, along with the unceasing howls of wolves sounded.

Ctas!

For the umpteenth time in the present day, another head of a wolf floated in the air, then landed on a pile of snow, among the encirclement of the corpses of other headless wolves.

"It's the 10th head today" said Margaret happily, then took the head and put it in her magic pouch. The magic pouch was shaped like an ordinary pouch, but with the magic that had been put into the manufacturing process, it could hold items with unlimited capacity in terms of numbers. But for the size, the maximum pocket can only be filled with objects as large as a table.

After feeling the satisfaction of his achievement, the corner of the girl's lips curved back down. The long black-haired head turned around. "Actually, where did he go?" asked the girl when she could not see the black-haired young man anywhere.

The wind blew, playing with Margaret's long hair, through the gaps of the lush trees that surrounded her, continuing to blow until it was united in the gust of wind created by a young man's brisk run.

AAUU!!!

Shawn tried to catch his breath as he made his way, carefully passing through the roots of trees that were creeping between the snow. The pair of eyeballs behind the red contact lens as if unblinking, continued to stare straight at a tall tree.

Taps.

As soon as he arrived right in front of the tree, Shawn jumped up, made the tree a foothold, then turned sharply. The two wolves waiting right between the tree slits behind him were shocked, upset, and joined by their three friends chasing Shawn.

The dark leather shoes continued to leave a trail among the piles of snow, stepping towards the field with fewer trees. The dark robe that wrapped around the body tertibak will gust of wind. Her black hair strands were twitching following the blowing baby.

For 5 years living in the forest, Shawn has memorized the habits of some wild animals, especially predators with eyesight and hearing are too sharp at night today.

AAUUU!!!

AAUUU!!!

One or two wolf howls sound unpretentious to each other, perhaps calling their closest herd to come help the hunt. But Shawn was undaunted. He continued to run towards a more spacious area, a terrain where he could move and fight more freely.

GGR!!!

Counting 8 wolves have been waiting for the presence of Shawn a few meters ahead. Shawn's head turned quickly around.

Where is he?

Ah, can! There was a sergiala standing gallantly on a cliff nearby. He must be the alpha, the pack leader of the wolves chasing Shawn. The pair of yellow beads he emitted gave off the typical courage of the leader, analyzing the current situation.

A total of 13 wolves chased and one observed the situation. Shawn thought fast. Wolves are not ordinary predators, they have stamina and intelligence. Especially if it looks like the alpha has been observing from afar, it means they have a strategy.

But even if they were just ordinary members, they were not wolves that could be underestimated. Without giving Shawn any more time to think, the 6 wolves in front immediately ran around Shawn from various sides, leaving 2 of them still standing at their original spot. A wolf chasing from behind suddenly jumped up, about to pounce on Shawn.

Relying on trained reflexes, Shawn leapt to avoid one attack after another by the wolves. The iron sword that had been locked at the waist, was now removed. Blood drops were inevitable from the snow—the blood of Shawn or the wolves.

Srashwas.

A wolf managed to carve a trail on Shawn's shoulder, making the young man grimace. Had he used magic since then, maybe such a trivial wound would not have been on his body. Shawn could not. He was in a strange place with strangers. Unlike the time in the Spleen, using magic here was simply not worth it.

However, the young man's body was like a sturdy stone that was even difficult to scrape by the waves. Shawn remained fighting undaunted, dodging nimbly, forcing both feet to remain firmly grounded. Every now and then, Shawn tries to attack, but most of them miss.

"Talent is different from determination. Even though you have now mastered the sword's base, it doesn't guarantee your sword's ability in the future."

Somehow, at a time like this Shawn even remembered the words of the masked man last night. The corner of his lips lifted, still while dodging amongst the wolf attacks. Then how should I do? inner Shawn frustrated.

Thanks to a full half-day of training with Margaret yesterday, Shawn's body was quite familiar with this one heavy weapon. Ah, naw. Perhaps this can be said also thanks to the 'game' he used to do with Brianna every girl that visited Shawn. Daggers are different from swords, but basically the two weapons have quite similar shapes, only different sizes.

Consciously, Shawn's body recorded every move he made in the 'game' with Brianna. The two neutrals were as dark as the sky in the winter was recalling the movements that the younger Marquess Plutonium's sister had made on her. Also it might be said to be thanks to the hit men who came every once in a while.

Crash it!

Another scratch was re-engraved, this time on the sleeve, tearing off his new blue coat. Blood drops again adorned the thick snow that had piled up, heating up the air killing the wolves. Another wolf jumped up, with immediately both pairs of sharp fangs stuck on Shawn's shoulder. The young man's net reflexes widened, feeling a great pain gnawing at the arm.

Fresh blood flowed between the wolf's fangs, inviting lust to kill the other fellow.

Not to be outdone, one or two wolves jumped towards Shawn while opening their mouths wide. But Shawn was undaunted. Although "fourth" is unlucky, it does not mean he has to accept everything that happens in his life.

Shawn felt. Unconsciously his subconscious always records Brianna's fighting movements aimed at him. The pair of red neutrals were covered, recalling Brianna's movements in more detail. Shawn's right arm formed a 45-degree angle inward, his legs turning half a turn, then as fast as lightning his hand formed a straight angle and the tip of the sword in his hand stuck into the chest of the wolf still biting his neck. Then as fast as lightning Shawn dodged a barrage of attacks launched by other wolves.

Blood seeps into the snow. The wolves that saw his wounded companion growled furiously, staring at Shawn lustfully killing.

AAUUU!!

The howls of the wolves are increasingly being heard, calling for more help, informing their dying friends. Wolves are animals of high solidarity, nothing is more important to them than friends and family.