CHAPTER 1024: CHAPTER 156 - CENTAURS’ ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT (3)

They hesitated—steel trembled in gloved hands, breath fogged in the chill of the morning. The wariness on their faces was obvious. I mean, even the prince’s order wouldn’t instantly erase the chance I might twist and strike. They were right to be careful. Trust is a weapon of its own.

"W-What are you all doing? Put them down!"

The prince barked a command, and slowly, one by one, they lowered their swords. The metal made an uneasy clink as it slid into scabbards or was planted point-first in the soil. Their stances softened a fraction, not from relief but from calculation. They’d obeyed, but caution clung to them like armor.

For a moment, the clearing was still—breathing in and holding itself. I eased the pressure on Ayuru’s blade but didn’t pull it away. The prince’s face was flushed, lips trembling between rage and the realization that this fight hadn’t gone how he’d planned.

I swung a casual grin at him. "See? Nobody had to die today."

He ground his teeth, rage reining in his composure. Around us, the centaurs watched, uneasy, their hands hovering on hilts as if the next heartbeat might change everything. I’d walked into an ambush and walked out of it with a man’s back under me and his sword at his throat—barely a scratch for me, and a loud lesson for them.

***

"You really outdid yourself this time, Leon," Lionel said, voice low but laced with dry amusement as he surveyed the scene. Around us the centaurs were bound—thick ropes biting into fur and muscle—huddled together in a tight, disgruntled knot while a semicircle of beast-people kept them penned, weapons at the ready, eyes hard and watchful.

"You managed to avoid getting assassinated. That was honestly impressive." Lionel gave a short, almost incredulous laugh. "Centaurs are notorious for that kind of thing, whether you want to believe it or not. You’d assume—because of how big they are—that silent kills aren’t their thing, but they’re shockingly good at it. They strike from angles you don’t expect, in numbers. By the time you figure out what’s happening, it’s already too late. If they put the mark on you, you’re as good as dead. You can’t outrun them. I mean, those legs are built for speed, and you can’t beat them in a straight-up surprise because they always come in groups."

"I just got lucky, that’s all," I said, shrugging.

"And what are you planning to do with them?" Lionel asked, folding his arms. His face was calm, but there was an edge beneath it.

"We can’t just kill them," I answered. "Even if the Centaur Kingdom’s been stubborn and unhelpful, I think negotiation is our best shot. If I can talk to their king, if we approach this right, we might avoid worse bloodshed. Pressure and threats will only harden them."

"Maybe," Lionel said slowly, but his tone carried warning. "That old bastard is stubborn as a rock. You need leverage. Make sure you’ve got a hold on his son—bring him in line before any talks. Take us with you. If they go reckless, we’ll respond in kind. We won’t hesitate. If they pull something stupid, we’ll crush them."

There was something almost grimly confident in Lionel’s voice—like a general speaking of contingencies. It wasn’t unfounded. I mean, beastkin numbers were not something to scoff at. They held the largest populations across many of the kingdoms, and with numbers came power and pride.

Then the prince’s voice cut through. It was sharp, high, and furious. "You scum! You will never get away with this! You’re poisoning our land with your idiotic ways. And you, King of the Beast! How dare you allow this in our territories? Have you no shame, no gratitude for the land you live in that you’d permit such idiocy?"

He screamed at us, chest heaving, veins standing at his neck. Rage and humiliation painted his features. He looked every bit the offended noble, furious that Lionel—of all people—would back my ideas. The prince’s words were spit like daggers.

Lionel didn’t raise his voice. He met the prince’s fury with a cool stare. "I trust Leon’s vision," he said. "If I didn’t, I wouldn’t trust him with my daughter. This isn’t a reckless gamble—I believe it benefits our kingdom and yours in the long run." His tone was steady, measured, like someone laying out the facts to a stubborn child. "Your pride blinds you. The world beyond these borders is changing and growing stronger. Humans are becoming a force. If you refuse to adapt, you will be consumed by those changes. Pride won’t protect you when everything starts collapsing—what will your pride do then?"

The prince’s nostrils flared. "How dare you? You think humans will destroy our kingdom?" His face twisted with a mix of scorn and wounded pride. Lionel’s words had hit a sore spot—exactly where they were meant to land. The prince looked at us like we were traitors to heritage, as if simply speaking about the outside world was sacrilege.

"We’ve defended our kingdom for generations," the prince barked, standing taller as if to summon ancestral weight. "We’ll defend it for generations more. We are strong. We have no need for foreign help—we can do this ourselves!" His voice wavered a touch, but he tried to make it sound absolute.

"Oh really?" Lionel replied, amusement thin under the steel. He took a step forward, not aggressive but precise. "But you can’t act on any of that, can you? You’re not the king. You’re not even in the line of succession. I doubt your father will hand you the reins."

The prince’s face flushed crimson. "What did you say?" he snapped, the heat in his voice breaking into a personal sting. "I’ll have you know. I willingly gave succession to my younger brother because I prefer to be a warrior. I don’t want the throne!"

"If you say so," Lionel answered coolly, the words smooth as glass. That little exchange was a knife-work of social leverage and it landed exactly where it needed to.

There was a small, uncomfortable hush after that. Lionel’s bait had worked. Around us, the bound centaurs glowered, weighing the mood, and some of the beast-people tightened their grips on their weapons, ready for any sign of trouble.

So, the choice was made. It felt less like a declaration and more like an inevitability now. Naturally, the next thing to do was to go to our next destination. We were going to the Centaur Kingdom.