Salvation of The Scum Fifth Prince

[45 - existence; who is he]

No light could sneak into the darkness of the cold metal floors, surrounded by tall poles that locked away the treasure within.

On the floors, with splayed out legs and sprouting flowers of purple and blue from the rough handling, was a particular man, his eyes coated in a frost so cold that it seemed to burn through skin.

Chains rattled against his pale ankles, snow locks crushing against his face, worn from battle.

The prince scowled and laid on the floor without a care, as if he were lying on a soft, luxurious cotton bed.

The attitude wasn't fitting of a prisoner.

"Hey you!" snapped a guard, his injuries far worse and more visible as he limped to the bars. "Won't you look at that? You shouldn't have been so arrogant."

Pale icy eyes flickered to the shadowy silhouette at through the bars. He sneered. "Bragging about needing twenty men to capture one normal civilian?"

"You—"

"Useless." said Soren with a faint smile at the corner of his lips, mocking and indifferent towards the situation.

"I'll show you...!"

"Stop." said a low voice from behind him. "We are to follow orders and leave him be."

"Tsk, but that brat—"

"Follow your orders, understood?"

The voice left no room for refusal and the footsteps of the two grew further away.

Soren shifted his eyes, staring at the dark ceiling above without worry. He'd always been confident of his skills, and that would never change.

However, Soren was not used to protecting.

Once Raphael had acted out of turn, the plan had gone down the drain. In saving that fool, Soren had damned himself.

In the end, with heavy injuries on the other side, they'd successfully dragged him to the cells, locking up the cell. It worked out, thought Soren. If one thought of it in another light, he'd successfully infiltrated into the castle.

From here on, it was a matter of escape.

There were a few things he needed to do originally, and being caught didn't effect him too much. Other than the hassle it would be to break out.

Considering many of the guards now had bloody gashes whipped onto them by dancing metal chains, they wouldn't be able to stop him again.

The event was a grand ball, meant for the King to flaunt his wealth and power. A ridiculous event, but it worked favourably for Soren and the others. Nobility would be invited, and the other citizens would flock to the outer walls.

Because the King wanted to have everybody respect him, even commoners would be allowed to appear.

The matter of infiltration was simple — though it relied on Damien to send his information... and the disguises.

There were several roles necessary.

Damien and Alvara were sent to find the key in dealing with Celine, a valuable player that would turn the tides if she abandoned the Third Religion. That was only betting that her only desire truly was her sister, and not the power promised to her.