“Name?” The guard at the door asks.

“Siyu. You're expecting me.” Siyu says, standing before the Blooming Flower Cult base with Frey.

The guard checks his list and nods. “Come on in.” He says, stepping to the side.

Siyu lets out a sigh and steps forward to open the door.

What welcomed them was a raucous scene, of heavily muscled men and beautiful women, laughing and playing merrily. Sensual music played in the background as a lovely lady sang the crowd a tune. Drinking, gambling, and flirting could be seen anywhere one looked.

Siyu breathes it in, then walks to find the bartender. He needed a drink.

Frey watched the surroundings with much interest, his legs following.

Siyu approaches the bar but his anxiety suddenly began to rise.

Following distractedly, Frey accidentally bumps into a man. Intending to ignore it, he kept walking.

“Watch your step, trash.” The man calls out.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The young prince’s brows furrows as the words cross his ears. Frey turns around to look at the man. He was tall, beautiful and blonde. He was young as well. On a good day, that would be enough for Frey to brush the matter off, but the way the man said those words deeply irked him. It was as if he truly believed that Frey was below him.

As Frey continues to think of it, a vein begins to bulge on his forehead as his anger rises unimpeded.

“What the fuck did you say?” Frey calls out, his voice barely containing his anger.

The surroundings become drawn into a silence, as many spectator’s eyes observe the scene.

The young man smirks. “I said watch your step trash. Lowly piece of shit; you aren’t even fit to clean my shoes. Be grateful I left it at that.” He says, without fear, and without hesitation.

Frey puts his hand on his sword, already prepared to act.

Suddenly, he feels a heavy hand press down on his shoulder, and a whisper in his ear. “Hold.”

Siyu looks at the man, his anxiety far above what he liked to tolerate. Siyu didn’t know what he was looking at; it was just a man, but his anxiety would not lie, either this man was very dangerous, or to touch him would be a deadly pitfall.

Siyu takes a deep breath, attempting to calm himself, and speaks out, “Hold it in, Frey. For heaven’s sake, hold!”

Hearing Siyu dissuade him, Frey’s anger only continued to rise. Suddenly a flame burst into life on his hand, tightly gripping his sword. Frey presses his eyes close, his blood rushing and his veins pulsing. It’s almost intolerable… He thinks.

“Come on.” Siyu says, pulling Frey by his shirt.

The blonde man watches them go, his smirk still lingering. “Trash.” He says, spitting on the ground before taking his leave.

The pair arrive at the bar and Frey takes a deep breath. “Siyu. Who the fuck was that? If he simply be a man, I will strike him down next time I see him.” Frey says, holding down his pulsing anger.

Siyu watches the young man’s back as he leaves the building, letting out a sigh of relief when he was gone, before looking to Frey to consider his words. Siyu lets out a bitter smile. “I don’t know, Frey. But in this world, under the heavens, there will always be those who are untouchable. If you dare to stray outside your dharma and offend the heavens you may strike him down, but your soul would be doomed to hell.” He says with a shake of his head.

Frey considers his words and takes a deep breath. “Fuck, I want to kill him so bad.” He says with gritted teeth.

Siyu lets out a laugh. “He was pretty.” He says with a smile.