The Crown Prince In Hiding

”Nora!!!”

Fury pried open Iskaryx’s jaws with brute force, snapping its fangs and ripping its innards to shreds piece by piece—until, at last, he found her.

She was at the center of the explosion—the core of the dozens of ice spikes that had pierced through the dragon’s body. Her eyes were closed. Unconscious. Her body, battered and broken. Her magical energy, completely spent.

He quickly pulled her out, though she was drenched—red blood, yellow pus, and the thick saliva of the beast clung to her skin and clothes.

Fury carried her out from the carcass, and slowly, the princess opened her eyes.

”...What just happened?”

”The strongest ice spell I can do… Mr. Fury...” she replied, voice faint.

”Ice Detonation—Level 9. I made myself the epicenter. And then... you saw what happened.”

”So basically… you blew yourself up?”

Fury looked at Iskaryx’s corpse and swallowed hard.

Her ice magic… this woman… could do this much?

Iskaryx’s entire body had been coated in a hardened crystal shell that reflected light into faint rainbows. That crystal also deflected magic like a mirror bouncing back laser beams. That’s why spells hadn’t worked on it.

But Fury hadn’t used magic. He’d fought it with fists, feet, and raw muscle—that had been the exception.

The creature’s weakness… was on the inside.

Iskaryx had evolved its outer defenses, but its vulnerable point remained within. The key was to open its mouth—once that was done, anything shot inside would hurt it.

The real problem all these centuries had been simple: no one had ever been able to hold it still and pry its mouth open.

Until today.

”Did we… do it, Mr. Fury?”

”It’s not moving anymore.”

He looked at her.

”Your ice spike pierced its brain... it’s over.”

As Nora heard those words… silence fell.

”...I did it...”

A smile formed on her face. Her voice shook with disbelief.

”I… I actually did it!”

And what Fury saw… was tears streaming down the face of the Ice Princess—tears of joy, sobs of release, echoing alone in the cold air.

”I... did it...”

A lifetime of pressure and frustration burst out through her tears. She cried uncontrollably.

And the towering demon stood by her side.

The only witness to Nora’s victory.

”If after all this they still won’t give you what you asked for... then to hell with them.”

”Mr. Fury!!!”

She clung to his chest plate, burying her face against it.

”You were amazing, Nora. Congratulations.”

”What did you say? Iskaryx... was killed?!”

There was no need to elaborate—the aftermath was obvious.

News of Iskaryx’s death swept across the vast kingdom of Snowhaven.

What started as what many thought was a petty dispute—a rebellious daughter trying to make a point and destined to crawl back home in shame—had erupted into a headline that left every official in the Crystal Palace slack-jawed.

And no one was more shocked than Her Imperial Majesty Ophilis XIV... Nora’s mother.

An investigation was launched immediately, and one question echoed through the halls:

Was Iskaryx really dead?

Yes. Nora Ophilis had nothing to hide.

Northern patrol units reached the site and found the beast’s corpse—picked at by white owls.

They brought back proof: shards of shattered crystal scales and teeth. These were laid at the feet of the Empress, by none other than her own daughter.

The Empress stared, stunned and speechless.

In contrast, Nora stood tall, confident. The evidence was irrefutable.

They could verify it all they wanted, but the truth remained: Nora had slain Iskaryx—

—a creature the military had failed to kill for centuries.

The look on the Empress’s face brought a wave of satisfaction to Nora’s three closest allies.

But even more importantly—it brought light to her younger siblings.

They had seen their eldest sister rise up and fight for herself.

And they had seen, perhaps for the first time, that even their mother could be shaken.

Days later...

Nora and Mr. Dan Burn returned to Snowhaven. They sat in formal dress before the royal inquiry chamber, awaiting their summons.

”...Mr. Fury... none of this would’ve been possible without you.”

”Correct.”

Dan nodded without a hint of modesty. Credit clearly belonged to Fury. Still, none of that changed the fact: the one who killed Iskaryx was Nora. Fury had just held it off. Nora was the one who fired the killing blow.

”I’ll never forget what you did for me. I promise I’ll repay you, Mr. Fury.”

”Start saving up—I’m billing you for this.”

Nora smirked, letting out a soft laugh just as the chamber doors opened.

A high-ranking officer stepped out and announced,

”Princess. Mr. Dan. You may enter.”

Nora and Dan rose and stepped in together.

The Inquiry Hall

The events had stunned the realm.

Nora and Dan now stood before the kingdom’s top minds—scholars, professors, generals, mages...

...and Her Imperial Majesty herself. The Empress was one of them.

It was difficult to believe Nora had done it alone. If true, it made her—at minimum—one of the Five Great Heroes.

”How did you kill Iskaryx?”

Nora glanced at Dan. He gave her a small nod and smile. Her confidence surged.

She stood and faced the tribunal.

Remember: You killed Iskaryx.

The result is what matters. It’s dead. You killed it. That’s what we agreed.

That’s how real life works, Nora. Results matter more than methods.

”I used Level 9 Ice Detonation—my forbidden spell. When I found an opening, I got inside its body.”

She went on to describe what she and Dan had done.

Yes, much of it was true—but Fury had helped craft the rest: the gray zone, the unprovable elements.

Iskaryx, they claimed, had been old. Weakened. Sluggish. This was Fury’s idea.

It sounded believable. Iskaryx had lived for over a hundred years—that’s the average lifespan for a dragon. Claiming Nora encountered it at its weakest gave her the best chance of selling the story.

Supporting evidence included the Level 9 ice residue found in its skull and throat—experts confirmed the spell had indeed detonated inside the creature.

The tribunal exchanged glances.

”And how exactly did you get inside it, Your Highness? Please, describe in detail.”

After all, Iskaryx wasn’t known to let anyone near its mouth.

Zeedee Lamp, one of the senior officials present, already understood—even without it being said—who had opened that mouth and taken the beating on Nora’s behalf.

Now came the challenge: how would they spin this to make it work?

Fortunately, Nora and Mr. Fury were well-prepared.

”We planned for this. Dan and I intended to lure Iskaryx out. We knew mistakes were inevitable, and if we couldn’t handle it… we’d retreat. But to our surprise, when Iskaryx emerged... it looked frail.”

Yes—frail and weakened from the start, with no clear reason why.

The beast was dead. It couldn’t object.

And whatever it had gone through before... no one could say.

That was Fury’s advice: use the unknown as a shield. There’d always be a gap. They just had to fill it.

”It moved slowly. Its reactions were dull... It seemed too weak to be the legendary monster we’d heard about.”

”That’s true,” Dan added. ”As the fire mage supporting Her Highness, I can vouch for that.”

”It was weak from the beginning? What do you mean?”

The hall buzzed with debate. Experts were divided. Some believed. Others demanded more proof.

Nora looked up at her mother on the dais. The Empress clearly doubted she had done it.

But Nora didn’t care.

Her expression stayed blank. She was ready.

Blame everything on the dragon.

It was old. Weak. Already wounded. (Wounds she herself inflicted, but she’d say they came from other beasts.)

The dragon couldn’t speak for itself anymore.

Remember, Nora… the message we want them to believe is this:

You got lucky. You found it in its weakest moment.

That idea might make it seem less glorious, but it’s your best shield in case they try to test you again.

That’s all I need, Mr. Fury... I just wanted to avoid that engagement. The rest… I don’t care anymore.

The image closes on Nora testifying before the court, following Mr. Fury’s advice down to the letter.

If one were to say...

That the person Nora trusted most now was Mr. Fury—

They wouldn’t be wrong.

She trusted him more than her own mother.