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A week had passed since they lost Prince Lloyd. Sebastian, who had been feeling as if his life force was being drained day by day, finally received the news he had been desperately waiting for.
“Have you found the prince?”
A man matching Alford’s description had been spotted near Dalain Street, located in the west of the capital.
“Dalain Street… that’s near the Lontium Viscounty.”
The viscounty had been long-standing supporters of Prince Lloyd.
“Has he made contact with them?”
The subordinate delivering the report shook his head. “It doesn’t appear so.”
The prince had been wandering the back alleys in shabby vagabond attire, lurking near the viscount’s estate, seemingly waiting for the right opportunity.
That made sense. Lloyd wouldn’t recklessly reveal his identity only to risk being killed by his own subordinates. Sebastian could reason that much, and there was no way Prince Lloyd himself wouldn’t consider such dangers. Having lived a life riddled with schemes and conspiracies since birth, Lloyd’s caution was only natural. Regardless, it was a relief. They still had a chance to recover from this failure.
“Send the Crimson Flame Corps.”
The...
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