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Chapter 6 - The Talentless Prince

Rewritten Chapter 6: "BRIDGE: The Talentless Prince"

"Joshua... wake up. You'll miss breakfast again."

Warm sunlight bled through the darkness, soft and gentle. The voice sounded like nostalgia, full of intention and love. "For a prince, you're quite lazy at times, aren't you?"

His eyes flickered open. There were crisp sheets, fading floral curtains, and the faint scent of lavender — Elara's doing.

"Elara...?" His voice trailed off on her name.

Because leaning over him was a face much younger than he remembered — less worn, less tired, sleeves rolled up, hair tied back with that one stubborn ribbon she always swore she "would fix properly tomorrow" but never did.

"It's the third time this week," she said, lowering the cool cloth onto his forehead. "You'll get scolded again... and you know how that ends."

Disoriented, Joshua blinked. Then the slow, creeping realization that his entire torso felt like someone had used him as a training dummy.

Right. That day.

The Royal Ascension Drill. The mana endurance test he failed halfway through. The quiet fury on the instructors' faces. The silent hall where his father hadn't bothered to attend.

And the punishment afterward — by servants forced to carry out orders they couldn't refuse.

Elara gently lifted the edge of the blanket, revealing a deep, ugly bruise at his hip. She inhaled sharply.

"They really did hit you too hard this time…"

"It's fine," Joshua muttered automatically, "I'm supposed to endure."

She shot him a glare. "Endure? Joshua, you're twelve, not made of steel."

"Aren't you younger than me? A year, right?"

Elara froze mid–wring, her fingers dripping water back into the basin.

"That's not the point," she snapped softly. "And I'm not a year younger. I'm ten months younger. That doesn't count."

"It counts."

"It doesn't."

"It does."

Her cheeks puffed slightly, tinting pink in that very Elara way — the way that meant she was annoyed but also knew he was technically right and hated it.

"What matters," she said, dipping the cloth again with a huff of dignity far too large for her small frame, "is that you keep letting them walk all over you."

Walk all over him? That was generous. They stomped.

Turning his head, he met her eyes. "Elara… why are you the only one who bothers with me?"

Her expression softened, then cracked a little.

She pulled her hand back from the cloth and hesitated… then cupped his face gently—like she was afraid he'd break under her hand.

"Because you try," she whispered. "You always try. Even when the world is beating you down from all angles, when your own family tells you you're worth nothing, you've always had this ability to get up again."

Squeezing the rag, the maid looked toward the bowl of water with a sheepish smile. "I've always admired that my prince."

My prince. She rarely said it. Only when she meant something.

"If I were beaten like this, I'd cry for a week," she admitted. "But you… you just keep standing."

Joshua stared at the ceiling.

"I break," he confessed quietly.

Elara shook her head.

"But you don't stay broken."

The sunlight shifted through the curtains, dancing across her face.

"You don't give up," she said softly, smoothing his hair with a feather-light touch. "And if you keep standing… then I'll stand too. Even if I'm scared. Even if it hurts."

CRACK—!

A sound split the air — the dream shuddering like someone had struck a bell inside glass.

"Elara?"

Her figure flickered — sunlight bending around her like a fading candle flame.

She leaned in closer, voice thinning as the world dissolved.

"I'll always believe in you," she whispered. "Always."

The room shattered.

Joshua gasped awake.

The room was composed of cold stone, illuminated with pale blue mana lamps. Raising his hands, he saw bandages hanging off, stained with a dull red.

Trying to sit up—stopped immediately.

…restrained.

Leather cuffs wrapped around his wrists and chest, glowing faintly with a reddish inscription. Definitely demon made. "Okay. This situation isn't great."

Yet I'm still breathing.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[SYSTEM: Status Diagnostics — ACTIVE]

[LEVEL UP AVAILABLE (+3)]

[DO YOU WISH TO LEVEL UP JOSHUA VALE?]

[YES/ NO]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

If there was EVER a time to level up? This was it.

"…Screw it. Yes."

The world didn't explode. That was good.

Instead—warmth rippled down through his chest, something electric crawling along his spine.

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[LEVEL UP +1]

[LEVEL UP +1]

[LEVEL UP +1]

[NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: BLOOD AFFINITY]

[Elemental Type: BLOOD]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"…Blood? That's— that's a thing?!"

Something pulsed in his veins. The restraints around his wrists tightened, reacting to the sudden surge of mana.

Then—

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[NEW SPELL AWAKENED]

Hemokinesis — Tier 1

[Type:] Blood Magic / Elemental

Effect:] Manipulate your own blood in small quantities. Excess use will cause blood loss.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Staring, he felt his throat go dry. "…Hemokinesis??"

My own spell.

Joshua Vale — "the talentless prince" — could finally use magic.

A tiny bead of blood rose from a healing cut on his forearm and lifted up, floating in the air like a ruby droplet—

And pulsed with energy.

His heart thumped hard. "I— I did that. That was me—!"

On instinct, he rotated his hand. The droplet followed. Like a tiny crimson planet orbiting him.

He felt it. His blood. His control.

Magic. Real magic.

"I— I HAVE A SPELL!"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[AFFINITY RESONANCE DETECTED]

Do you wish to engrave 'blood' as your Signature Art?[Y / N]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"A… signature art?"

His personal identity. His trademark. His core combat foundation.

Blood magic. His.

The bitter reality wasn't lost on him—the child who bled for everyone…finally gained power from his own blood.

Taking a steadying breath, Joshua nodded. "Yeah," he whispered. "Engrave it."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[SIGNATURE ART ESTABLISHED]

[Crimson Vow]

(Your blood answers your will. Your will shapes your blood.)

...

[TITLE UNLOCKED: THE PRINCESS' CHOSEN]

Category: Destiny

Rank: Unique

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Right… I remember seeing this before I passed out.

A slow breath escaped him as he stared at the translucent window hovering in front of him.

"This is… a lot," he muttered.

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Description:

You survived ten strikes from Lysandra Nightweaver, the Demon Princess — an act no human has done in recorded history.

Mana Defiance Protocol+20% resistance to ANY demon mana.

Affinity Echo

Exposure to royal-level mana converts into raw stat growth instead of damage.(This is why leveling felt like the users' veins lit up.)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Whoa whoa... isn't this a lot of information at once?" Joshua stammered, his mind racing.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

UNDERSTOOD...

-STATUS-

[JOSHUA VALE -THE PRINCESS' CHOSEN]

[AGE: 19]

[ELEMENT TYPE: BLOOD]

[SPELL(S):]

Hemokinesis

Damage Conversion

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When he finished reading, the window faded out, leaving only the familiar cold of stone, the soft hum of the mana lamps, and the faint ache in every part of his body.

"I really... have no business still being alive." That thought slipped in uninvited.

Before he could finish processing, a faint sound outside made his blood go cold.

Click. Click.

The door handle turned.

Wait! I can't let anyone see this!

With an exhale Joshua's blood magic dispersed as her presence filled the room immediately. Her aura made the quarters seem as if it belonged to her, and everyone was just borrowing space. The loose red hair fluttered as the princess faced him.

"You're awake."

Her eyes flicked over the bandages, the restraints, the blood on his arm. No reaction… but something unreadable passed through them.

Joshua swallowed. "Yeah. Barely."

The door shut. Silence pressed in.

Lysandra studied him for a long moment — the dried blood, the shaking breath, the way he kept trying to pretend he wasn't afraid.

"Tell me something, Joshua Vale," she said softly, almost curious. "Do you hate them?"

"...Who?"

"The humans," she said. "The ones who sent you here to die."

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