The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne Chapter 675 The Loss of Half the Army

"Father, let me take responsibility for this."

Shock hit Gulvar and the ministers hard. They whipped their heads toward the throne room door, spotting Karakh entering with two loyal aides right behind him.

"Karakh?" Gulvar creased his forehead. "What are you doing here? Go back to your room."

Yet Karakh refused to back down. He declared firmly, "Father, I am a prince of this kingdom. How can I just stand by and watch the capital fall into chaos?"

He halted in front of Gulvar, pressed his palms together, and dipped his head in a light bow.

"I beg you, Father. Please grant me the authority. I'll do my best to resolve this!"

Silence gripped Gulvar. Truth be told, it wasn't a lack of desire to give him power—he just couldn't shake his doubts about Karakh.

Indeed, Karakh topped the list of suspects in Gulvar's mind for the chaos, right alongside those behind Aldrian's demise at the Seven Lights Inn.

Such doubts made sense. Aldrian's death stood to gain the princes, Karakh included.

The odds that Karakh was guilty weren't slim at all. Still, lacking proof, Gulvar couldn't point fingers.

Even worse, a mistaken accusation might rebound disastrously on him and the realm.

"Your Majesty, please approve Prince Karakh's plea," a minister urged, hands clasped in a slight bow. "The capital's plunged into total disorder. If we don't act, it could explode into a massive catastrophe. Please, Your Majesty!"

"Exactly, Your Majesty! Grant him that authority!"

The rest of the ministers chimed in, backing Karakh strongly.

Karakh stayed bowed low, hiding the subtle smirk playing at his mouth's edges.

Under the ministers' mounting pressure, Gulvar saw no way out but to yield.

He drew a heavy breath, nodded gravely, and intoned, "All right. I understand."

Gulvar locked eyes with Karakh and commanded, "Karakh Lyren, I order you to lead five hundred troops and bring order back to the capital!"

Karakh hid his glee, raised his head, and bowed deeply in respect.

"I will carry it out, Your Majesty!"

…

"Hah… hah… hah…"

Erkan panted heavily. Shards of his armor hung off the front, baring his chest and belly riddled with gashes.

Pallor washed over his face. Slashes marked his neck, brow, and cheeks, with blood still dripping down, painting a wretched picture.

The blade in his grasp shook violently, on the verge of flying from his fingers.

His stare stayed glued forward, to a massive ten-meter dragon sprawled dead. Deep gashes tore across its limbs, midsection, and gut.

A huge, ragged cavity in its torso leaked viscous black gore.

The foul reek was unbearable, strong enough to turn stomachs instantly.

"Finally… finally, that monster has been defeated," Erkan whispered, voice quivering.

No triumph lit his features. Just grief, strain, and bitterness.

He spun around to survey the fallen soldiers littering the earth. He couldn't pinpoint the exact toll, but over three thousand lay dead… likely way more.

"G-General," a feeble, wheezing call came from nearby. "Are you okay?"

Erkan glanced over to see Crosmon limping closer.

His complexion was ghostly white, drained of color. Grievous injuries blanketed him, far from mending in mere days.

Erkan quashed the worry churning inside and murmured back faintly, "I'm fine. How about you?"

Crosmon exhaled softly. "I'm fine. It's just that my leg is badly injured."

A bitter grin twisted his mouth. "Seems like riding a horse is impossible in my condition."

Moments ago, a monster strike had hammered his right leg.

The bone held, but his calf burned viciously, agony shooting everywhere.

Luckily, quick first aid had stopped it from getting worse.

Even so, walking proved a torment. Full recovery? He wasn't sure.

Erkan approached and clapped his right shoulder.

"We're not leaving yet. Tell the surviving soldiers to pitch tents nearby. And…" His face grew stern. "How many troops did we lose?"

Crosmon's look soured. In a hushed tone, he answered, "Half of our troops… are dead. Another two thousand took light or heavy wounds."

Those words struck Erkan like a thunderbolt.

The soldiers fell under his watch. Deaths in glorious combat? Honorable, maybe.

But this massacre differed. A monster—not even their prime foe—had butchered ten thousand of his men.

A whirlwind of fury, bitterness, rage, and endless other feelings surged through his heart. His breaths turned ragged, igniting an even fiercer craving to eliminate the offenders—Nolan and Seira.

"Alright, I understand," he forced out between gritted teeth. "For now, go execute my orders."

Crosmon gave a nod, then faced the soldiers, who appeared drained and weary.

Erkan took in a deep breath, releasing it gradually.

"Nolan Lorian… Seira Lorian…" he snarled. "Don't ever let me catch you. If you do, not one peaceful day awaits until you're decaying in the royal palace dungeon."

This grudge he would carry to his grave.

"Are you okay?"

Thousand Faces' steady voice sounded from right beside him.

Erkan glanced over and noticed the man's ragged, feeble appearance, proof of the intense fight he'd waged before.

"I'm fine. Thank you. If not for your aid, we all…"

Erkan's words stuck in his throat. Admitting it was hard, yet the truth stood firm: Thousand Faces had been pivotal in slaying the Earth Dragon.

Without the supreme spell he unleashed, they could all have fallen as casualties.

Thousand Faces brushed it off with a wave. "It was my duty. Besides, a bonus awaits me later."

Evil though he was, Thousand Faces held to his principles, unwavering in choices—even against foes.

Erkan nodded silently.

"We rest three hours before pressing on. Recover your stamina in the meantime."

With that, he hobbled back to his troops.

***

As Erkan and his men sank into sorrow and fatigue from the Earth Dragon clash, Nolan and Seira had already escaped the valley.

The night sky stretched open again, dotted with a stunning array of stars.

Seira's strain gradually faded, her smile blooming once more.

"Luckily, we got out too. That valley made me so uneasy."

Strangely, no monsters had come near them, but the heavy, chilling vibe of the place was impossible to ignore.

Time crawled unbearably—each second like an eternity—and Seira could tolerate it no more.

"By the way, are we close yet, Nolan?" Seira asked.

Oddly, silence met her. Frowning, she called, "Nolan?"

Nolan yanked his horse to a stop. Wheeling around, he cautioned, "Sister, get ready."

Seira jolted in surprise. Before she could respond, Nolan bellowed, "Get out, all of you!"

His shout echoed across the area. Moments later, a mocking voice drifted from the right.

"Tsk! Just as expected of Nolan Lorian—you're quite perceptive, exactly as stated in that letter."