The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne Chapter 639 Running

"Nolan, keep pushing forward. A hallway awaits ahead, with a solid hiding spot on the right," Elsa gasped, out of breath.

Nolan nodded lightly. Truth be told, he knew every nook of the palace well, yet he stayed quiet and put his faith in her guidance.

After turning right, a lengthy corridor stretched before them.

Elsa tugged him toward a nearby door, and they slipped inside to hide swiftly. Her breaths came heavy and ragged as she fought to calm them.

She and Nolan had dashed nonstop for more than five minutes. For a girl who seldom worked out and still wore her fancy party gown, such a sprint was utterly draining.

"Are you alright?" Nolan inquired.

Elsa managed a wan smile and whispered, "I… I'm okay. Thanks."

Nolan nodded, cracked the door open a bit, and glanced out cautiously.

Darkness blanketed the palace corridor. The chamber they'd ducked into was equally pitch-black, devoid of any illumination.

Meliodas and his assassins must have severed the magical energy powering the lamps across the royal palace.

"Is it clear?" Elsa asked softly, unsure.

Nolan withdrew his eyes and nodded faintly. "Safe for now, but not entirely. Those killers are hunting you… and probably me as well."

He felt sure Meliodas wouldn't slaughter nobles at random. A clear scheme existed, targeting offspring of top noble houses.

This would breed intense hatred in those bereaved families toward the royals.

And then what?

Of course, the bond between nobles and the crown would shatter. Before long, that fury might spark a grand uprising.

Thus, Meliodas could cement his grip as the fresh king.

He aimed not only to eliminate Aldrian but also his father, Gulvar.

One had to admit—Meliodas was brilliantly cunning and ruthless. He exploited the nobles' grievances in the realm to claim the Ancient Kingdom of Eron.

Yet his tactics were viciously savage, forcing even Nolan to respect his ruthlessness.

"You're spot on. I spotted corpses of high noble heirs earlier. The killer's savagery is off the charts, obviously scheming to turn nobles against the royals," Elsa grumbled darkly.

Yet his tactics were viciously savage, forcing even Nolan to respect his ruthlessness.

"You're spot on. I spotted corpses of high noble heirs earlier. The killer's savagery is off the charts, obviously scheming to turn nobles against the royals," Elsa grumbled darkly.

Nolan gazed at her approvingly. Elsa proved much sharper than he'd anticipated.

Tension mounted with each passing moment. Elsa struggled to even her breaths, but it seemed futile.

Dread of death gripped everyone instinctively. No matter one's strength, facing mortality drove desperate survival urges.

Nolan itched to assure her, "With me here, you're protected," but he restrained himself. Better to let events unfold, earning her debt later.

After all, as the duke's daughter, Elsa would serve as a vital piece in future games.

Sensing no immediate threat, Nolan emerged and scanned the passage.

"All clear now. Time to move."

Lingering too long invited disaster, handing their foes an easy catch.

Elsa trailed him out, clutching his hand firmly.

Right as they prepared to depart, a dark figure lunged from Nolan's rear.

Elsa yelped, "Behind you!"

Srck!

A sharp stab echoed, blood spraying vividly.

Elsa stood stunned, seeing Nolan evade the ambush and catch the blade in his hand.

The knife speared clean through his palm, halting mere centimeters from her cheek.

Crimson poured from the gaping gash, pounding her heart wildly.

Words failed her utterly.

Abruptly, Nolan whirled, drove his elbow into the attacker's skull.

The foe crumpled, but Nolan showed no mercy.

He ripped the blade free from his hand and plunged it into the man's throat.

The body twitched violently before stiffening in death.

"You good? Hurt anywhere?" Nolan asked, eyeing her thoroughly.

Elsa shook off her daze, shaking her head fast.

"I'm okay. But you—your hand…"

Worry filled her eyes at the mangled palm, flesh ripped open, blood streaming steadily.

Though painless to her, she knew the agony it inflicted.

"No big deal. Mere scratch. Come on, they'll hear the noise."

Ignoring her response, he seized her hand and yanked her along.

Moments after their escape, two cloaked figures in eerie robes materialized.

"Stabbed by his own weapon. The killer's no amateur," one observed.

His partner inspected the body, rose, and snarled, "Hunt them down. They're close."

Then, they melted into shadows and disappeared.

…

"Hah… Hah… Hah… We've shaken them off at last."

Aldrian wheezed, clutching his sore belly.

His endurance lagged behind ordinary folk, so even brief flight winded him badly.

Seira beside him breathed harder too, yet coped far better. Such exertion hardly fazed her.

"Pathetic weakling," Seira scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Her view of Aldrian plummeted. Utterly dependable? No—worthless and frail to boot.

Seira puzzled over the Lyren choice of him as heir, when Karakh, Meliodas, and others shone brighter.

Just birth order?

Illogical. Though not tight with Gulvar, she knew his sly, strategic mind.

He wouldn't pick Aldrian pointlessly.

"Seira, you alright? No injuries?" Aldrian asked anxiously nearby.

Seira shook her head. "I'm good. Hey, your folks—safe?"

Aldrian blanched. During their flight, three killers struck.

Alex intervened, splitting him from his parents.

"Uncertain. But they ought to be fine," he answered uncertainly.

Seira nodded silently. She peered into the gloom, then queried, "Now what's our plan?"

Aldrian opened his mouth as footsteps echoed from upfront.

"Enemies approaching!"