In the dungeon, Prince Michael sat dazedly among the straw, his eyes hollow and lifeless.
Even the sound of the cell door opening did not elicit any reaction from him.
It was only when the footsteps drew near and finally stopped in front of him that he lifted his head to look at the figure before him.
"Heh, so it is you."
Lette smiled slightly, "Who else could it be but me?"
Michael lowered his head again, appearing unwilling to engage in conversation.
Lette didn't mind, waving his hand, as two elves brought over a chair.
Lette sat down with ease, grinning as he looked at his counterpart.
"The once mighty Prince of Martial Arts of the First Empire, now reduced to a prisoner, how does it feel?"
Yesterday's battle, where the Unicorn Knight Army of the elves, with only a thousand troops, routed the empire's twenty thousand cavalry, ending in a chaotic retreat.
