The Lightning Prince's Tantrum
“Who in the world do you think you are, telling me to show respect?”
Kaichen slammed his fists down and stormed right up to Arkin’s face. Short and scrawny like Elio, yet his temper was the exact opposite. The prince of Voltrion hopped and jerked like he wanted to shove the much taller Arkin aside, his white-platinum hair sparking wildly with every furious motion.
“You dare insult the body born in the sacred land of thunder just because you’re the weakling who hugs nothing but withered trees? One lightning strike and your entire forest would burn to ash….”
Arkin stared down at the bellowing Kaichen and only sneered.
“Don’t act so rashly, Prince of Voltrion.”
Arkin’s voice was calm as he spoke. “As I said earlier, everyone here is equal. And every word and action you take from this point on will eventually disrupt the future diplomacy of the monarchs. If you don’t want to burden your father, think carefully before you speak and act.”
Yet Arkin’s words only fanned the flames of Kaichen’s rage even hotter. The lightning prince couldn’t care less about his kingdom’s image. With spit flying, he roared like a beast.
“Shut up! A mere human dares lecture me, the one who carries the blood of the gods? One touch from my mother and I could turn you into a pig!”
She carries the blood of a goddess…?
Damn it, this is a disaster.
Arkin bit his lip hard. If it were just any human, the matter would be different.
Crack! Crack!
White hair shot up in wild spikes, then swelled like it might burst. Even the skin of the prince flickered pale white, and tiny sparks flared across it like will-o’-the-wisps.
If his mother truly was the goddess of Voltrion, things could turn ugly. The gods were merciless, heartless, and they never forgave those who challenged their authority. If Kaichen had inherited that nature….
Kaichen clenched and unclenched his fists, gritting his teeth. Tiny flames danced at his fingertips, gathering into condensed fireballs. The moment the lightning prince thrust his hand forward, Arkin moved.
Crack!
A blinding flash of white light filled the entire corridor. The glare slowly faded. After blinking several times, Arkin glanced at his palm. Kaichen’s wrist was still firmly in his grip—only his palm felt a little warm, far from the dramatic display earlier.
“Kaichen.”
Arkin crushed Kaichen’s wrist and shoved him away, laughing. It was nothing more than a slight warmth in his palm.
“Say it again. Think before you act.”
He spoke through gritted teeth, suppressing his fury. Kaichen blinked a few times, then suddenly staggered.
“Ah, dizzy…”
His swaying body slumped sideways and collapsed onto the tile floor like a puppet with all its strings cut.
What in the world is going on right now?
Arkin and Elio exchanged a glance. Had Kaichen’s strength been exhausted in such a short time? Not only his body, but even the spiky hair drooped limply.
“Hey, wake up.”
Arkin lifted Kaichen, sat him against the wall, and leaned his back there. The lightning prince clutched Arkin’s arm and mumbled like he was drunk.
“This tunic… I don’t like it… I wanna go home…”
This isn’t a child.
Arkin’s forehead creased sharply.
Arkin sighed and looked down at the unsteady Kaichen. Truly, there was no end to such troublesome people. The tunic wasn’t properly worn, leaving him half-naked. The sandal straps were tied in a mess—he hadn’t even learned how to tie them.
I can’t leave him like this.
His head ached, but Arkin bent down anyway. The virtue he had learned as successor in Solinar’s winter forest was that one must not abandon one’s comrades. Even if they were enemies, the people of Solinar cared for all life with utmost care.
Whether he truly carried the blood of a goddess or not, Arkin pulled the limply drooping Kaichen upright and dressed him in the tunic. A few prickling sparks danced at his fingertips, but he didn’t hesitate.
“I-I’ll help…”
Elio approached timidly.
“Thanks, Elio. Tie Kaichen’s sandal straps.”
“S-sandals? I’ve never done something like this…”
“I haven’t either.”
Arkin’s firm answer made Elio stop objecting and obediently picked up the sandals. But Elio had never tied sandals for someone else. His fingers fumbled clumsily, making the straps even more tangled.
“Ah, Elio.”
Seeing his clumsy movements, Arkin realized then that Elio had also tied his own sandals strangely. He truly hadn’t done this before….
“Watch closely, Elio.”
Arkin sighed deeply and pulled Kaichen’s opposite foot, sliding the sandal on. He held the leather straps in both hands and began crossing them neatly for demonstration.
“Hah, the useless Baylon prince is clinging to Arkin.”
A mocking voice came from behind. Elio hurriedly lowered his head. His shoulders trembled visibly, and one could tell who was speaking just from the voice alone.
Arkin frowned and turned around. The man approaching with heavy steps was Prince Draconis of Igninof. He had already changed into fresh white tunic and wore a ruby brooch on his shoulder.
“I was wondering how Kaichen brought a slave all the way here. How did he hide from the priest’s eyes? The lightning prince’s head isn’t that sharp, right?”
Draconis spoke without restraint and sneered at them. Arkin sensed that the red-haired prince saw through Elio’s foolishness and saw Kaichen as a different type of person.
And he seemed to enjoy tormenting Elio very much.
“Since Igninof is right next to Baylon, we always know the news first. In this crumbling Baylon Kingdom, Elio is truly a shameful existence, isn’t he?”
Arkin watched Elio swallow hard. Elio hadn’t turned toward Draconis out of fear.
“Now he’s even dressing Baylon’s prince in sandals. How low does he intend to stoop? Father would be ashamed.”
Arkin bit his lip. Watching this hateful act was disgusting. Igninof had a history of crushing weak nations without mercy and swallowing them whole, growing its power. Looking at how Draconis treated Elio now, it seemed no different from back then.
The ruthless logic of power had shattered peace and threatened the World Alliance. In the ancestral era, parts of Solinar’s forest had been reduced to ash from their invasions.
Arkin stood and faced Draconis. The intense, flame-like red hair filled his vision. The red strands swayed like living flames, and the blazing red eyes locked onto Arkin with silent, threatening menace.
“Hey, Arkin.”
Draconis’s piercing eyes met his directly.
“Stay away from that guy. Baylon people can’t be trusted at all. Everything they say is a lie and full of malice. They cloak the land in thick fog, paralyzing travelers’ senses until they lead them to dangerous cliffs or swamps. They’re the same kind.”
Draconis took another step closer and lowered his voice.
“If you want to take his hand, you have to take ours. That cowardly fool will use your sympathy to rattle your reason and wait for the perfect moment to strike you from behind.”
Arkin heard the rough, ragged breathing of the fog prince. He hadn’t dared turn, but the heavy gasps sounded like muffled sobs. Draconis sneered at such Elio, twisting his lips in a lopsided smile.
“I know you well—the forest kingdom Solinar is the spiritual backbone of the World Alliance. But will mental strength solve everything? I don’t think so, Arkin. What good does it do to show mercy to a country like Baylon that’s about to crumble? Let’s be practical.”