The Crown Prince In Hiding

The Tent in the Woods

Dan Burn returned from the academy with Zeedee, both of them munching on a few wild fruits they’d gathered along the way.

But when the tent came into view, six figures were already standing around it—waiting.

The moment they saw Dan, all six dropped to one knee.

“Your Highness,” they intoned, heads bowed in reverence.

Four men and two women—these were the Crown Spies of the Diablos. Like Fury, each had undergone the body-transformation rite, tasked with infiltrating the human realms and returning with critical intelligence for the kingdom across the sea.

They spanned the full spectrum of human identity—blacksmith, scholar, noblewoman, baker, gem trader, underground assassin. It was impossible for anyone to suspect they were connected in any way.

In value, they were worth six mana crystals at 1,000 tons each. That was 6,000 tons of crystal—roughly 900 million credits.

“Greetings, everyone. Thank you for answering my call. I know your time is precious, and gathering like this comes with risk.”

“We wouldn’t dare think otherwise, Your Highness,” they answered in unison.

Dan entered serious mode. He sat on a log near the tent, leaned forward, and laced his fingers.

“I’ll be brief. I know our reputation among the humans isn’t what I want it to be. They see us as a threat—and I believe that. But we need data to guide our rebranding. I want each of you to gather intel on what humans think of us—of me, of my father. Every class. Every gender. Every age group, if possible.”

“Your Highness… do you mean to erase our image?”

It was the noblewoman who asked, lifting her head in confusion.

“Fear doesn’t benefit us in the long run.”

Dan then explained the same things he’d told Zeedee.

Once the six spies were aligned, Dan turned to the assassin.

“For the underground, I want a report on our influence. How deep it runs.”

“Understood, Your Highness.”

“Send the data in two copies—one for me and one for Fiorentina. That’s all. Dismissed.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

With that, all six vanished into the forest like ghosts.

Zeedee sat beside him.

“Zeedee.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“What I’m most afraid of… it’s not the old clerics or crusty knights.”

“Then what are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid it’s the younger generation who still wants to destroy us.”

—

One Week Later – Sheffield Library

From 1 p.m. to 3 p.m. on a Friday afternoon, Dan was deep in routine. He’d adapted well to Artheris Academy life—model citizen #1.

Today marked his third work session with Princess Nora of Snowhaven. And just like the first two times, it was dead silent. They’d sit, work independently, and periodically Nora would glance up to direct him—check what he’d done, assign the next task, and move on.

That was it.

No chit-chat. No warmth.

The tension was palpable. Nora’s frosty demeanor only made things worse—Dan constantly wondered if things really had to be this serious.

“Your Highness?”

“?”

“I mean no offense, but… do you ever take a day off?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“I just heard some royals show up on and off. But you’re here every day. I was curious.”

“Snowhaven doesn’t have enemies. If someone harmed me, it would only start a war.”

But the real reason likely had more to do with her lethal ice magic—powerful enough to kill, should she choose to.

“Your magic is incredible, by the way. What’s it called?”

“I’ve studied it since childhood.”

“…Ah.”

…

Awkward silence.

Dan closed his book.

“I’ll excuse myself for today. I’ve got another engagement.”

“Good luck with your scholarship application.”

“?!”

He blinked.

“…How did you know?”

“I was in Professor McClaff’s office. Saw your name on the application form.”

“Oh… I see…”

Dan began packing up.

“W-well, yes… I suppose you saw correctly…”

Nora gave a casual wave without even looking up from her notes.

—

Faculty Wing – Scholarship Interviews

Dan wasn’t the first to arrive. A large crowd of students had already gathered—hopeful applicants for the academy’s many scholarships.

Zeedee was among them.

“Dan,” she called, pointing to another corner. “Your section’s over there.”

“Got it.”

He joined the group aiming for the knight scholarship—and immediately noticed something:

These kids were built. Towering, broad-shouldered, combat-ready. Dan was clearly the smallest one there.

Yikes… Can I even compete with these guys?

“Everyone’s here, I see.”

Heavy footsteps approached. The Knight Department faculty had arrived—and they were terrifying. Stone-faced, razor-voiced, the kind of people who had been soldiers before they were ever teachers.

The other boys snapped to attention. Dan mimicked them.

“You don’t know me yet—that’s expected. I’m Foden,” said the lead instructor. “I head this department. My team and I will choose two scholarship recipients. One male, one female.”

Professor Foden was a short-haired woman who radiated warrior. Her posture, her voice, everything screamed battle-hardened. A black eyepatch marked her as a war veteran—blinded in one eye.

Foden was a former Four-Bar Knight of the Luminus Kingdom. A rank just below the legendary Five-Bar Knight—the pinnacle of knightly achievement, and one only Casca had surpassed in a century.

Dan had heard rumors that Professor McClaff and Foden didn’t get along—Velmount vs. Luminus history. Even their offices were split, and some students swore they’d overheard their arguments.

“Our selection process is simple. We want the strongest male and strongest female from this group. That’s it. Your trial begins now.”

A tall male knight stepped forward. Foden gestured toward him.

“This is Instructor Soros. He’ll be testing all of you.”

Anyone who could defeat Soros would get the scholarship.

If no one could beat him, whoever lasted five minutes would win.

If multiple students lasted over five minutes, the longest one would be chosen.

If no one lasted five, the longest attempt still won.

Simple.

No convoluted conditions. For knights, strength was more important than brains.

(Not that Dan agreed with that last part.)

The trial began.

One hour in… and out of over 100 students, only 20 remained.

No one had landed a hit on Soros. Not one. He wasn’t even sweating.

Within 30 minutes, half the students had left without even trying.

This was insane.

Dan and the others could only stare, slack-jawed.

“Next.”

Thump… thump… thump…

A girl stepped forward. Short hair, sharp eyes, fierce presence. The same Luminus student from Day One—Rafinya.

Dan hadn’t seen her all day. But she’d been there all along—waiting for the crowd to thin.

She now stood before Soros, wielding a slender, white French-style blade. One hand behind her back. The other lightly gripping her sword.

Then—

She moved.

A blur of motion. Her speed eclipsed every student before her.

Even Soros was caught off guard. He had to get serious immediately. But even serious, he was on the defensive.

The knight faculty watched intently, brows rising. Foden stroked her chin. She was clearly entertained—and impressed.

Then—

Beep—

Five minutes passed.

Rafinya was untouched.

Soros had sweat on his brow and tears in his armor.

Rafinya sheathed her blade.

“Instructor. From now on, you’re unqualified to teach me.”

“What?!”

She was the final female candidate. And the winner.

There was no point in continuing.

Professor Foden clapped and signaled Soros to stand down.

“We’ve found our female recipient.”

The remaining male students looked sick to their stomachs. Some nearly collapsed from nerves.

“I guess I’ll need to try a little harder,” Soros muttered.

Then he got serious.

Three boys were flung out of the ring in seconds.

One boy lasted four and a half minutes—close, but not enough.

Now only Dan remained.

Can I do this?

He cracked his knuckles.

Test the sword first. If it’s not working… time for Plan B.

All this for tuition. For debt.

For that idiot Everton. Focus.