Pride Beneath Foreign Skies

"Eh, Senior, look at their clothes, they don’t look like our Drake Empire’s clothes. This is more like the clothes of the Blue Empire tribes in the north." At this moment, Harry’s sharp eyes caught the difference, and he spoke up, his tone low but certain.

The wind swept across the Golden Sand desert, carrying grains of heat and dust between them.

Leon didn’t answer immediately.

His gaze lingered on the battlefield below—the clash of steel, the roar of the Two Fang Reptile, the shifting rhythm of combat—but Harry’s words pulled his attention elsewhere.

"Blue Empire?" Leon murmured softly, almost to himself.

There was a faint pause in his expression.

A flicker of surprise.

Why would people from the Blue Empire... appear here?

The Drake Empire and the Blue Empire were separated by vast lands, borders not easily crossed—especially not during such chaos. For a foreign force to enter this region now...

That wasn’t coincidence.

That was intention.

His purple eyes narrowed slightly, the thought settling deeper.

Below—

The battle continued.

The younger generation fought desperately, blades flashing, mana surging, their coordination barely holding against the savage force of the Two Fang Reptile. Sand erupted with every strike, the creature’s tail whipping through the air like a storm.

But amidst the chaos—

The true center of attention shifted.

Not to the beast.

Not to the fighters.

But to the sky.

Because—

They had been noticed.

At this moment, among the watching elders below, one man—his hair streaked with gray, his posture calm yet grounded like an ancient mountain—suddenly felt something.

A presence.

Not overwhelming.

Not aggressive.

But unmistakably... there.

Lingering above.

Watching.

His brows furrowed slightly.

Without turning his head fully, he spoke quietly to the young man beside him.

"Nephew... we have a guest."

His voice was low, steady, carrying the weight of experience.

The young man beside him—dressed in ornate robes trimmed with oceanic patterns, his posture straight, his gaze sharp—paused for a moment.

"Hmm?"

Tommy.

Second prince of the Blue Empire.

His eyes lifted slowly.

Then—

He saw them.

Two figures in the sky.

One calm.

One standing slightly behind.

Watching.

From above.

And in that single moment—

Something in his expression changed.

His lips pressed thin.

His jaw tightened slightly.

A flicker of cold irritation passed through his eyes.

He had grown up surrounded by power.

By status.

By constant reminders of who he was—and who he wasn’t.

A prince.

But not the one who would inherit.

A man of noble blood.

But never enough.

Never first.

Never chosen.

And because of that—

There was one thing he despised more than anything.

Being looked down upon.

And now—

Someone stood above him.

Literally.

Looking down.

His fingers tightened slightly at his side.

A cold edge entered his voice.

"Who is above?"

He took a step forward, chin lifting just slightly.

"Why aren’t you kneeling when you see me?"

The words cut through the battlefield like a blade.

Even the younger fighters faltered for a moment.

Even the wind seemed to pause.

Above—

Leon heard it.

And then—

He smiled.

Not wide.

Not mocking.

Just... amused.

"Yoo-hoo..." Leon let out a faint chuckle, his tone light, almost entertained.

His eyes shifted slightly.

Not toward Tommy—

But toward Harry.

A silent signal.

A subtle gesture.

Your turn.

Harry blinked once.

Then—

His lips curled.

A slow, dangerous grin spreading across his face.

Oh...?

You’re giving me this?

Then I’m not holding back.

Inside, his excitement sparked instantly.

What a perfect chance.

This kind of moment doesn’t come twice.

He cracked his neck lightly, his confidence rising like a tide.

Let’s see how arrogant you really are.

Harry stepped forward.

Then—

He descended.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

The wind pushed against his robes as he dropped from the sky, landing lightly on the sand below.

His boots touched the ground with a soft thud.

Dust rose.

And then—

He looked up.

Straight at Tommy.

His eyes filled with open disdain.

"Which dynasty’s prince are you?" Harry said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "How dare you make me kneel?"

His tone wasn’t just mocking.

It was sharp.

Provocative.

Like a blade testing another blade.

Tommy’s eyes darkened instantly.

The arrogance in Harry’s posture—

The disrespect in his tone—

It hit something deep.

Something fragile.

Something volatile.

For a moment—

He didn’t speak.

But the air around him shifted.

Heavy.

Dangerous.

The saber at his side trembled slightly as his hand moved toward it.

If this were the Blue Empire—

This boy would already be dead.

Cut down.

Buried.

Forgotten.

This was the first time—

The first time—

He had met someone who spoke to him like this.

No fear.

No hesitation.

No respect.

"Very good..." Tommy said slowly, his voice cold, controlled—but barely.

"Kid... listen carefully."

He lifted his chin, pride radiating from every word.

"I am the second prince of the Blue Empire—Tommy."

He expected something.

Shock.

Fear.

Submission.

At the very least—

Hesitation.

But instead—

Harry laughed.

Loud.

Unrestrained.

"Haha!"

The sound rang across the battlefield, sharp and clear.

Tommy’s expression froze for a fraction of a second.

Then darkened.

Harry shook his head slightly, still grinning.

"I thought it was some ruthless character," he said, wiping at the corner of his eye as if he had heard something truly amusing. "Prince of the Blue Empire?"

He stepped forward.

One step.

Then another.

"Yo—take a good look."

He gestured casually around them.

"This is the Drake Empire."

His voice dropped slightly.

Not louder.

But heavier.

"Put away your arrogance."

The grin faded.

Replaced by something sharper.

Colder.

"I don’t care if you’re a prince of the Blue Empire."

His eyes locked onto Tommy’s.

Unflinching.

"Even if you were the crown prince—"

He leaned forward slightly.

His tone cutting.

"You’d still have to tuck your tail between your legs when you come here."

A pause.

A breath.

Then—

"Why are you acting so arrogant here?"

The words landed like a hammer.

"Do you really think the Drake Empire has no people?"

Silence.

Heavy.

Oppressive.

The younger fighters stopped completely now.

Even the Two Fang Reptile seemed momentarily forgotten.

Tommy stood there—

Still.

But his hand—

Trembling.

Not with fear.

With rage.

"You—"

His voice cracked slightly under the pressure.

His face flushed.

His breathing sharpened.

For a moment—

He nearly lost control.

His hand shot to his saber—

Half-drawing it—

Intent to kill flashing clearly in his eyes.

But—

A hand stopped him.

Firm.

Unyielding.

The elder beside him.

Tommy’s body stiffened.

The blade paused.

His chest rose and fell heavily.

The elder’s grip didn’t tighten—

But it didn’t loosen either.

A silent warning.

A reminder.

Not here.

Not now.

Tommy’s jaw clenched.

His teeth ground together.

The rage didn’t fade.

But it was forced down.

Buried.

For now.

"You..." Tommy was so angry that he almost vomited blood. If the old man beside him hadn’t stopped him, he would have raised his saber and killed Harry.