The soldiers and servants of Prince Wilhelm's camp covertly packed the wagons. At best, the prince reasoned they enjoyed the grace period of one hour before their jittery attitude is noticed. He planned to leave before half of that time elapsed, and abandon nonessential equipment.
"What's going on?" Nix whispered.
Prince Wilhelm silently worded, "War bow," and the elf dashed off to prepare for the worst.
His younger sibling's messaged him with the conclusion to the investigation: the summoning succeeded. The Wilmand Kingdom violated the treaty, and every moment they dallied was a moment they risked being captured. The Five Kingdom's Congress's failure loomed like a felled tree held up by the canopy, staying underneath it is foolish.
Prince Wilhelm entertained his complacency because he believed it impossible to summon heroes again. Ouroboros prevented that by consuming them before they crossed the Dimensional Gate, and, usually, any mages involved. Who would believe a new age arrived? So, he told others with a half-smile, "Don't get your hopes up," and politicians droned over political tedium.
Now, he faced a possible war on two fronts: one at the congress, and another at home. If the hero entertained the qualm of authority, then they might depose his father and spark a civil war. He didn't want to imagine his family's heads on pikes, or worse. No matter how he calculated it, staying at the congress provided no advantages.
'Something's off,' Prince Wilhelm thought. He stayed closest to other camps, a ploy. He wanted to keep an eye on them, to gauge their level of suspicion, and be a visible distraction while others worked in secret. Years of royal court meetings and dirty battlefields taught him the eyes betrayed a person. The guards at the Rangville Empire camp stared, or glanced over.
They feel something is wrong. Veterans would pick up on the changes in our camp. Our time ended faster than I thought. Someone will test us soon.
"My prince," Nix asked, "What do you want to--"
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The prince pulled out a medicinal cloth, soaked in healing potion, around his sword hand. "Bring me my swords. Burn the rest. Account for everyone. We're leaving. Now."
He cut his way out the back of the tents, to prevent being seen, and mounted a horse. One of his soldiers tried to corral him into a wagon, and he shoved the greenhorn off. "I can't command if I hide."
The collection of a dozen wagons sped off. Behind them, smoke billowed from the Wilmand tents. A breeze later, and orange flames consumed the canvas. "My family was always famous for pyromancy," he muttered and kicked his horse to catch up.
"My prince! To the east!"
Rangville cavalry galloped over the snowfield, intending to cut off the escape. Prince Wilhelm unsheathed one of the three swords strapped to his back and barked commands. "Box formation on me! Wagon guards: those that can ride reverse are rear guard, everyone else punches through! Don't risk your lives for me if I fall! I'll be ransomed for later!"
Four guards surrounded Prince Wilhelm, and he angled into the field to collide with the Rangville cavalry.
"Break!" he barked.
His four guards reared the horses back and slowed, leaving the prince momentarily defenseless. Some of the Rangville horsemen balked, and opportunistic Rangville soldiers spurred forward, to clash with the prince.
"¡ƃɹǝqɯɐlℲ"
Flames engulfed Prince Wilhelm's sword, extending its length four times over, and the arc of his swing looked like a rolling storm in Hell's weather. Man, horse, and their armor alike, cleaved under the heat. Burnt meat filled the air, and the edges of separated metal glowed orange. Those that weren't chopped burned instead. The prince tossed his now malformed sword into the snow, and it quenched loudly, before drawing a second.
He shouted a warcry and weaved at the Rangville cavalry, and their formation scattered.
Free of the threat of being cut off, Prince Wilhelm turned his attention back to the fleeing caravan. Nix squatted on top of the rear-most wagon and loosed an arrow. When she fired, her bow cracked instead of sprung, and the heavy arrow pierced a horse's eye. Animal and rider tumbled, crushing the man under horseflesh, and trampled by those following. She notched, and it cracked again.
Though faster, the Rangville cavalry broke pursuit. If the soldiers brought their enchanted weapons, then the fighting would have been fiercer. Luckily, the prince decided to act fast enough so they could not mobilize them.
"I take it negotiations failed, my prince?" Nix mused, still squatting on top of the wagon, and keeping her eyes peeled.
"There's going to be a war. We might be entering a new bloody crusade."