"Thanks," I said flatly, my voice still a bit rough from the aftermath of the shock. "I needed that."
Her expression shifted—slowly, but noticeably. The anger that had burned across her features began to soften, replaced by something uncertain. Guilt, maybe? Or just exhaustion. Whatever it was, it wasn't as fierce as before. I doubted she really understood what I meant, but that didn't matter. Words weren't my strong suit right now anyway.
Before the silence could stretch too long, a voice came from behind me.
"You're finally awake," the tone carried a hint of mockery, casual but sharp around the edges.
I turned around, expecting another hostile glare or maybe a healer checking up on me—but what I saw instead made me pause.
The guy standing there had stubby limbs and bright green, spiky hair that defied gravity itself. He looked… strange. The kind of strange that made you question whether to laugh or stare. His hairstyle alone looked like a cactus trying to start a fight.
I couldn't help it—I snorted. A small sound at first, but it slipped into a short laugh before I could stop myself.
He froze for a moment, probably wondering why I was laughing when I'd just survived electrocution.
But who was I to care? The situation was absurd enough as it was.
"I thought you'd sleep the whole day," he said with a half-smirk, his tone light but carrying something else underneath. Confidence, maybe. Or arrogance.
Yeah—definitely arrogance.
His words rolled off his tongue like he was used to being listened to, like people normally bowed their heads when he spoke. That subtle air of dominance—it was something you could feel more than see.
Still, I couldn't bring myself to care much.
Arrogant or not, I wasn't some peasant groveling for approval. I might have been beaten up, shocked, and confused, but I was far from ordinary. If anything, I could match that confidence—just too lazy to bother proving it.
Yeah, definitely too lazy.
The thought made me chuckle inwardly. Especially considering how I'd almost died moments ago and was now depending on someone else's Truth to stay alive. The irony stung a bit. Depending on someone else's Truth—it sent a shiver down my spine. The kind of thought you don't want to linger on.
Seeing that I didn't respond, the green-haired guy's smirk faltered. His brows furrowed slightly, irritation flashing across his face. Still, he managed to keep his composure, as if reminding himself to act dignified.
"We were the ones who found you amidst the bushes," he said, folding his arms. "And my friend over there healed you."
He jerked his chin toward a boy I hadn't noticed earlier—the same one I'd suspected was my mysterious healer. His presence was quiet, calm, but the faint green aura lingering around his hands gave him away.
"Ohh… thanks," I blurted awkwardly, the words leaving my mouth before my brain caught up.
I glanced around, taking in the small group gathered around us. The green-haired one definitely stood out—not just because of his ridiculous hair, but the way everyone else subtly seemed to orbit him. There was a gravity to him, an authority that didn't need words.
He was strong. Probably the strongest here.
That would explain his attitude—the self-assurance, the pride, the faint condescension when he looked at me. Power changes how people talk, how they move. I recognized that. I'd seen it before.
Still… who cares?
He continued to stare at me, waiting for something—a reaction, maybe respect. The longer his gaze lingered, the more uncomfortable I felt. It wasn't the kind of look you could shrug off easily.
"Any problem?" I finally asked, breaking the silence.
His eyes narrowed slightly, but his voice stayed even. "No. Not at all."
He turned away after a moment, but not before I caught the faintest twitch in his jaw. Clearly, I'd rubbed him the wrong way.
When I looked around, I realized everyone else in the group was watching us too—some curious, some uneasy, some just pretending not to notice. Their stares made my skin prickle. I probably looked like a lunatic who'd just woken from death, laughed at a cactus-haired prince, and started mouthing off.
On cue, my eyes drifted back to the green-haired guy.
Now that I thought about it properly, he looked… familiar. Something about his posture, the faint emblem embroidered near his collar, the way he carried himself—it all clicked at once.
"Wait," I muttered under my breath. "I definitely know him…"
Of course. Prince Gutso of Azria.
Quite a funny name, but a recognizable one nonetheless. No wonder his arrogance seemed so polished—it was royal. The guy wasn't just a strong fighter; he was nobility.
Understanding dawned on me, and I couldn't help but smirk. He must have been completely thrown off by my lack of recognition earlier. It probably wasn't every day that someone didn't know who he was. That explained the flustered look he'd tried to hide.
But honestly? I couldn't bring myself to care much.
After all, it wasn't like I was just some nobody either.
I was a prince too.
Maybe the bruises, torn clothes, and near-death expressions had done their job a little too well, masking whatever aura of nobility I once carried. To them, I was just another survivor—wounded, exhausted, unremarkable. And that suited me fine.
Here on Earth, six empires ruled what was left of civilization. It used to be seven, each presiding over a continent, maintaining balance through ancient pacts and power. But when the barrier over Europe fell, everything changed.
The abominations poured in like a flood—creatures both harrowing and horrifying, twisted reflections of what once was. They tore through cities, devoured nations, and left nothing but ruin. Europe was lost, swallowed whole by the chaos.
Now only six empires remained, each clutching desperately to what little stability they had left. Beneath those empires lay countless kingdoms and countries, each governed by their own kings, clinging to order in a world that had long since forgotten peace.
And among those kingdoms, both mine and Gutso's stood as fragments of former greatness—royal by title, fragile by circumstance.
So yes, we were both princes. Two heirs standing in the same wasteland, stripped of luxury, pride, and power.
But while he seemed desperate to remind the world who he was, I was far too tired to care about such things.
My kingdom, my title—those were just names.
I'd seen too much to be impressed by crowns and emblems. Too many corpses under banners of pride.
No… I wasn't interested in playing the game of submission and loyalty anymore.
Let him bask in his royal arrogance if he wanted to.
As for me—
I was too cool to care about stuff like that.