Reborn as the Foolish Prince

"General Draven! A letter has arrived from the royal palace!"

An overweight knight with brown hair and a mustache rushed toward Draven, who was currently practicing swordsmanship in the training camp. Breathing heavily, he held out a letter bearing the royal mark.

Draven's sword was pointed in front of him, his eyes closed and focused. He was startled by the familiar voice rushing toward him, opening his eyes to see the source of the sound.

"Uncle Finn?"

Finn stopped in front of Draven, out of breath. He paused for a moment before speaking.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me General Draven, Uncle."

Finn raised his head, gazing at the young warrior before him. "Don't be like that, you should embrace your achievement."

Draven sighed; he had told him countless times not to address him so formally, but Finn simply didn't listen. "Anyway, what did you say? I couldn't quite hear you over here."

Finn tried to compose himself before speaking. "A letter from the royal palace has been sent," he said, handing the letter to Draven. Draven took it, carefully opening it and taking out the paper inside.

He processed the words, surprised by the statement. "They are sending another set of soldiers?!"

The king had already sent over 30 soldiers weeks ago. Although they had been ambushed and lost a few, reducing their numbers, the Warchief was severely injured by Draven's father, leaving the Gravhorns currently stagnant and their schemes unknown.

A few Gravhorns still launched attacks, but with the recent backups augmenting their army, they had managed to defend the area and its people. Their situation was currently balanced, and with the new reinforcements arriving, they could gain the upper hand in this conflict.

However, there was a major problem.

Draven's eyes became intense, and a hint of worry formed on Finn's face.

"Yes, however. The only path leading to this place is currently being guarded by one of the Brutefangs."

A/N: Brutefangs are Gravhorns who lead small groups, a step below the Warchief.

Draven sighed. "I'm sure they are aware of the danger lurking around the area. They must have already prepared a plan." He paused, then added, "However, we shall make a move first. Proceed as planned; we will wipe out the Brutefang along with his underlings. With that, their arrival will be expected to be earlier."

Finn's expression became somber. "B-but, Brutefang Krezz is one of the highest-ranked Brutefangs! It's too dangerous! I know you are formidable, Draven, but please, don't act hastily."

Draven raised his head. "Our supply has run out; our people have been hungry for days. What's the point of defending this land if we will die from hunger? We are protecting Blackmere because this is where we belong."

Aside from the reinforcements they were receiving, a set of supplies was also being sent for the people of Blackmere. One of their major problems was the lack of food, as their main path was blocked.

Draven had been planning for days how to eliminate Brutefang Krezz, the one guarding their main path. However, he simply couldn't devise a plan that would ensure no major casualties. Furthermore, there was no telling when the Warchief would show up again. If they managed to eliminate Brutefang Krezz and sustained severe injuries, there was a possibility the Warchief would suddenly appear, leaving them defenseless.

However, as time passed, they simply couldn't ignore the situation any longer. Draven had instructed Lieutenant Captain Kael to lead the army of Blackmere while he and his squad were temporarily away.

Meanwhile, Draven chose a few individuals to accompany him. All of them were experienced and extremely talented in their own way, increasing their chances of success.

There were 11 of them: 3 from the Spell Discipline, 6 from the Weapon Discipline, and the rest from the Body Discipline.

Draven's expression turned intense once again. "Finn, tell them to prepare. We will be leaving tomorrow."

...

A middle-aged man, broad-shouldered, with dark hair streaked with gray and sharp violet eyes, sat on a polished chair. In front of him was a table piled high with papers and books. Beyond the table stood a man in formal attire; he was tall, fit, with long white hair, glasses, and a long mustache.

The king's hand rested on the table before him, his fingers seemingly tapping. "Hmm, not feeling well, huh?" He laughed. "Since when did he get the courage to refuse me?" he said with a deep, manly voice.

"Meddling in a very serious issue. That part of him never truly changed; he had always volunteered to be of help, his actions driven by selflessness. I thought he had lost it all when I first met him after his isolation, however, here he is, still as passionate about helping people." He paused, then added, "Send a letter of my approval, Jullian. Also, send a letter to the Barony of Blackmere, inform them about the backup, as well as the supplies coming."

Jullian bowed. "I shall do as you ask, Your Majesty," he said solemnly.

"Also, do as he says. Make sure his identity is hidden until he arrives in the Barony of Blackmere."

Lucien had initially asked the king to hide his identity. Although the chances were low that they would try to assassinate him on his journey, especially with Darius with him, he still had to be prepared. Aside from that, Lucien knew they weren't really going to kill him publicly, but silently, alone where no one was around.

Though there could still be spies in his estate, only Head Butler Gareth and Head Maid Elena knew about him going into the Barony of Blackmere to physically analyze and find solutions for their current problems.

The king, curious and somewhat confused by Lucien's reasons for wanting to hide his identity while heading to the Barony of Blackmere, pondered the decision. He knew that if the public learned their Crown Prince was risking his life for his people, Lucien's reputation would undoubtedly improve. However, he also had a vague idea why Lucien might prefer secrecy.

While there was a chance his reputation would indeed get better—with people recognizing that the Crown Prince had overcome obstacles and was actively striving to help the kingdom—there were also those who would despise the outcomes of his decisions and actions. What was the point of helping someone, they might argue, if the ultimate result was that the intended beneficiaries wouldn't truly receive help? In the end, a majority of the kingdom's people might end up shaming him.

Information:

Draven's Appearance - Draven has a lean, athletic build and a strong, well-defined face with a striking, watchful intensity. His piercing amber eyes are keenly observant, framed by his medium-length chestnut hair. He carries himself with a quiet, formidable grace, exuding a composed and distant aura that hints at a cold efficiency.