Knock, knock.
Masain knocked on the door with a worried look on his face. The Prince had gone into his room saying he would rest for a while, yet even though afternoon had come, he showed no sign of coming back out.
“Your Highness. Please excuse me for a moment.”
Even then, there was no answer. In the end, Masain carefully opened the door and stepped inside. Then, the instant he saw the scene before him, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
For some reason, Prince Morres was sprawled diagonally across the sofa. One glance was enough to tell that this was no normal posture for resting.
“Your Highness!”
Masain rushed toward the sofa in a single bound, only to stop dead in his tracks. Unexpectedly, the Prince’s eyes were open.
He was staring blankly somewhere with half-lidded eyes. Rather than something being wrong with his body, it looked as though he had become so intensely focused that he had simply relinquished control of his body altogether.
“…Surely not.”
A chilling sense of déjà vu washed over him.
Masain had seen him like this before. That day on the ice wall of the Sigsmund Territory, when the Prince had controlled a Glacier Troll with some inexplicable ability.
‘What in the world is he doing now? Why would he suddenly do something…