The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne Chapter 640 Assassination Plan (1)

"Someone's approaching!"

Panic gripped Aldrian, prompting him to retreat swiftly. In his terror, he completely overlooked Seira standing right next to him.

Seira cast an indifferent look his way before withdrawing as well. The footsteps drew nearer, and shortly after, the door ahead creaked open.

A servant emerged, his face composed. Aldrian's brows knitted as he identified the familiar figure—Arkash.

"Arkash? What brings you here? Where is everyone else?" he inquired, relief flooding his tone.

Arkash served as one of the chief servants. Three such head servants existed, and Aldrian shared a close bond with him.

Witnessing Aldrian's eased demeanor, Seira found herself relaxing too.

She wasn't well-acquainted with Arkash, preferring minimal contact with the palace staff.

Not out of haughtiness, but simply because she viewed this palace as no true home.

Why bother forging ties with servants and guards?

Nonetheless, Arkash stuck in her memory—he had hosted the recent birthday celebration.

A subtle smile crossed Arkash's lips as he approached Aldrian.

"Apologies, Your Highness. His Majesty the King dispatched me to locate you. Fortune smiled; I found you—and Princess Seira too. Please, follow me. The others await," he explained, a trace of unease threading his words.

Aldrian detected no oddity. He spun toward Seira, excitement bubbling. "Come on, let's head out!"

Yet Seira held back, her eyes piercing Arkash intently.

She had caught multiple footsteps before. It seemed like several people.

Then why did only Arkash appear?

Unease stirred within her, though she masked it perfectly, offering merely a slight nod.

"Very well, let's go."

Curiosity burned to uncover Arkash's scheme, possibly linked to the recent uproar in the hall.

Arkash's grin broadened before he pivoted and led the way.

Aldrian and Seira trailed right after, and the trio soon disappeared from view.

...

Nolan and Elsa dashed along the palace garden's corridor. Darkness enveloped the grounds, rendering the rear garden ominously dim.

No lights flickered anywhere, save for the moon and stars overhead.

Fallen servants and guards littered the path's edges, proof of the assassins' flawless scheme.

"Nolan, I... I can't keep going! Can we pause just a bit?"

Elsa gasped for air, her eyes begging Nolan imploringly.

The vast royal palace left the main gate swarming with assassins. No choice but to loop around, hunting an alternate escape.

Regrettably, guards patrolled every flank too, compelling endless flight while scouting unwatched paths.

"Fine. We'll take a break by that tree ahead."

Nolan gestured to a nearby garden tree, positioned roughly five meters off.

Clustered with other trees, it offered decent cover from prying eyes.

Elsa agreed with a nod, sticking close as they reached it.

They slumped against the trunk. Fatigue evaded Nolan entirely; not a bead of sweat marred his features.

In stark contrast, Elsa was soaked through, as though the sprint had sapped her vitality.

"Here, take this."

Nolan fished a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it over.

"Thanks," Elsa murmured, taking it to dab her brow and neck.

Despite the sweat, no foul odor rose from her. Rather, a delicate rose aroma wafted enticingly.

Nolan, no mere mortal, resisted the pull of Elsa's potent pheromones unscathed.

To break the tension, they whispered in hushed tones.

But mid-chat, footsteps echoed from the corridor they'd traversed.

"Have they snared Prince Aldrian and Princess Seira?"

"Affirmative. Arkash has them now. Execution looms soon, sealing our triumph... hehehe..."

Their exchange iced Elsa's blood. Horror-struck, she gaped at Nolan and breathed, "Nolan, those guys..."

Nolan clamped her mouth shut before she uttered more, hissing, "Quiet!"

Indeed, her noise halted the assassins cold; they whipped toward the garden, alert.

"Who goes there!?"

Terror shook Elsa, remorse gleaming in her gaze.

Nolan stayed silent, his grip firm over her lips.

The killers' ears were razor-sharp, catching whispers like thunder.

Luckily, Nolan's swift action spared them detection.

"Did you hear that? Or was it my mind playing tricks?" one ventured uncertainly.

His partner squinted. "Doubt it. I caught it too. Probably fleeing young nobles. We should investigate."

The first nodded, advancing garden-ward.

Footfalls intensified, pounding Elsa's heart to a halt.

Fear overtook her; she twitched sideways, rustling the grass below.

The assassins shared a look, then bolted toward the noise.

Upon arrival, emptiness greeted them—merely wind-swayed grass past a tree.

"Empty? I swear something rustled here," he growled darkly.

His ally swept the scene, spotting a dropped handkerchief.

He snatched it up for scrutiny.

"We're on track. Someone hid here and bolted when we stirred. But how? We closed in quick."

Pondering, the other found no logic.

As words formed, a shadow flickered behind.

Nolan's arm lashed out, smashing their necks with savage power.

Blinding speed left no chance for response.

The pair crumpled unconscious.

Nolan breathed out, eyeing fainted Elsa nearby.

"Plans need adjusting. Hauling her drags me down," he grumbled.

A finger snap summoned a arcane shield around Elsa.

Her form blurred, then dissolved from sight.

"Freedom to act at last," Nolan murmured.

Gaze fixed forward, icy resolve sparked in his eyes.

"I planned mere watching. But dragging my sister into this? No. Meliodas Lyren... your end comes tonight."