I Transmigrated as a Prince Extra

The ravine echoed with the sounds of their retreat. The scattered cries of the defeated bandits lingered as the envoy pressed on. Juhtmed's carriage creaked with every lurch of the uneven ground, but he paid it no mind, his focus sharpened by the tension still crackling in the air.

Kaitsja walked beside the prince's carriage, his sword slung casually over his shoulder. His face bore a satisfied grin, a faint smear of blood streaking his cheek. "You know, your highness, you're full of surprises. That call for the archers? Brilliant. Almost as if you've done this before."

Juhtmed didn't respond immediately, his crimson eyes fixed ahead. After a moment, he said, "I just post them there i didn't think they would be to any use for us."

Kaitsja chuckled, though the sound lacked its usual humor. "Anyways since its you who post them its still a brilliant move."

Lian, walking on the other side of the carriage, cast a dark glance at Kaitsja. "We're not out of danger yet."

"You need to relax a bit," Kaitsja drawled, waving a hand. "We scared them off. For now."

Juhtmed tilted his head slightly, his gaze flicking toward the knight. "Confidence is useful, Kaitsja but overconfidence is fatal. Stay alert."

Kaitsja gave a mock bow. "As you command, Your Majesty."

The group moved in tense silence as the ravine began to widen, the towering walls giving way to sprawling grasslands. The sun hung low in the sky, its golden light casting long over the terrain. They stopped near a copse of trees to regroup and tend to the wounded.

Juhtmed sat in his carriage, his fingers steepled as he watched Lian interrogate the captured bandit. The man was bound to a tree, his face bloodied but defiant.

"Who sent you?" Lian demanded, her dagger resting lightly against the man's throat.

The bandit spat blood, his lips curling into a sneer. "You think I'll tell you anything? You're wasting your time."

Kaitsja leaned against a tree, watching the exchange with mild interest. "Maybe he's one of those strong, silent types," he quipped. "Or maybe he just needs the right… motivation."

Lian glare at him. "Stay out of this."

Juhtmed's voice cut through the tension, calm and commanding. "Enough. We don't need to torture him to get what we want."

The prince wheeled himself closer, his crimson eyes locking onto the bandit's. There was an unsettling intensity in his gaze, a quiet power that made the man squirm despite himself.

"You were hired," Juhtmed said, his tone flat and certain. "That's mean your expendable, your employers won't save you, nor will they care what happens to you. But you can choose to save yourself."

The bandit hesitated, his bravado faltering.

Juhtmed continued, his voice softening just enough to hint at empathy. "Tell me who sent you, and I'll ensure you're treated fairly. Refuse, and you'll find just an end-full pain."

For a moment, there was silence. Then the bandit's shoulders sagged.

"The one who hired us is from House of Dervain," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Lian's eyes widened. "What? That doesn't make sense. House Dervain is our destination. They're supposed to be allies."

Juhtmed's expression didn't change, but his hands tightened on the arms of his wheelchair. "Allies, perhaps. But one of the reason we going here is to ensure that."

The bandit swallowed hard. "I don't know the details. Just that we were paid to slow you down. Maybe they're buying time for something, or maybe they just don't want you to reach them."

Juhtmed leaned back, his mind racing. "Lian, make sure he's kept alive. We may need more from him later."

Lian nodded, stepping back and signaling two soldiers to guard the prisoner.

Kaitsja whistled low, shaking his head. "Well, that's a twist. Guess your friends at House Dervain aren't rolling out the red carpet after all."

"If this is true," Juhtmed said, his voice cold, "then House Dervain has betrayed the crown. But we'll confirm it ourselves. For now, we move with greater caution."

As night fell, the envoy set up camp in a secluded grove. A fire crackled in the center, its warm light warding off the chill. The soldiers rested in shifts, their weapons within arm's reach.

Juhtmed sat apart from the others, his eyes fixed on the flames. Kaitsja approached, a flask in hand.

"Mind some company, Your Highness?" he asked, sitting down without waiting for an answer.

Juhtmed glanced at him briefly. "I assume you have something on your mind."

Kaitsja took a swig from his gourd, then offered it to the prince. Juhtmed declined with a slight shake of his head.

"Just thinking," Kaitsja said, staring into the fire. "About all this... do you really think the Dervain really send these men?"

"I don't think so...only a fool who'll reveal his real name to mercenaries, but its not out of a question" Juhtmed replied.

Kaitsja smirked. "Sure.I have the same feelings but why lying and use their name?"

Juhtmed allowed himself a faint smile. "Simple the one that hire them know about the situation between the Empire and Dervain."

Kaitsja laughed, the sound low and rough. "I had the same feelings your highness so what should be the reason for them to do that."

Juhtmed didn't respond, his gaze drifting to the horizon where the faint outline of distant mountains loomed.

"For the succession" he said finally. "The Dervain is a neutral family and this might irritate some of the noble so why not use mercenaries and tell them their send by the Dervain and what more the third prince is with an envoy to their direction so why not taking care of him."

Kaitsja tilted his head, considering the prince's words. "When it said it like that."

As the fire crackled and the night deepened, the two men sat in companionable silence, their thoughts as distant and unknowable as the stars above.

The morning after the ambush dawned with a cold air· The camp stirred with muted efficiency, the soldiers speaking in hushed tones as they prepared to move· Every face carried a weight of suspicion and exhaustion·

Juhtmed at the edge of the camp, his wheelchair positioned near the remains of the fire· His eyes were narrowed, scanning the horizon where the faint outline of the mountains grew sharper· Kaitsja approached, his armor gleaming faintly in the dawn light·

"You're up early, for a noble," Kaitsja remarked, sliding his sword into its scabbard· "Still thinking about last night?"

Juhtmed glanced at him, his expression unreadable· "Always thinking, Kaitsja· I thinks things became more clear·"

"Well, let's hope today will gives us more answers," Kaitsja said his tone was more serious than usual·

Lian joined them, her face sharp· "The men are ready to move, Your Highness· The prisoner remains under guard, though he hasn't said much since last night interrogation·"

Juhtmed nodded· "Keep him alive· He may be useful· Today, we'll push harder· The sooner we reach House Dervain, the sooner we will uncover the truth·"

The envoy moved with caution as they traversed the rolling grasslands· The terrain was deceptively tranquil, but every slight movement in the air seemed to hold a threat· Kaitsja, at the front, kept his usual air of nonchalance, though his eyes missed nothing·

As the sun climbed higher, they reached a narrow bridge spanning a deep gorge· The structure was old but sturdy, its weathered stones etched with faint patterns of long-forgotten craftsmanship· Juhtmed signaled for the group to halt·

"This is the only way across for miles," Lian said, dismounting and inspecting the bridge· "But it's exposed· If someone's waiting for us, they will definitely strike·"

Kaitsja leaned over the edge, peering into the gorge· "No signs of trouble so far, but that doesn't mean much· I can go first?"

Juhtmed considered this, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest of his wheelchair· Finally, he said, "No· We'll move together, but with shields raised and archers covering from the rear· If its another trap, we'll be ready·"

The soldiers formed a defensive formation, shields interlocked as they began to cross· The tension was palpable, every step echoing ominously in the still air· Juhtmed's carriage rolled forward at the center of the group, his crimson eyes scanning the cliffs on either side·

Halfway across, the silence shattered·

A piercing whistle rang out, followed by a cascade of rocks tumbling down from the cliffs· Armed figures emerged from hidden alcoves, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight·

"Attack!" Lian shouted, drawing her blade·

The soldiers reacted instantly, their shields forming a protective wall around Juhtmed· Arrows rained down, clattering off the iron barriers· Kaitsja roared a battle cry, charging into the fray with his sword swinging in deadly arcs·

Juhtmed remained calm, his mind racing· The attackers were disciplined, their movements coordinated· This wasn't the work of common bandits·

"These aren't mercenaries," he said aloud· "They're soldiers·"

Lian, fending off an assailant, glanced at him· "Soldiers? From where?"

"That's what we need to find out," Juhtmed replied, his voice steady·

The battle raged on the narrow bridge, its confined space amplifying the chaos· Kaitsja was a whirlwind of steel, his movements a blend of precision and ferocity· Beside him, Lian fought with efficiency, her dagger finding vulnerable gaps in the enemy's armor·

Despite their skill, the attackers began to push the envoy back· Juhtmed watched with growing unease as the enemy's strategy became clear—they weren't just trying to kill; they were trying to capture·

"Kaitsja!" Juhtmed called, his voice cutting through the din· "I need you to break their lines· We need to force them back!"

Kaitsja grinned, bloodied but unbowed· "Im, on it!"

He surged forward, his blade carving a path through the enemy ranks· His audacious charge inspired the soldiers, who rallied behind him with a renewed vigor·

As the tide began to turn, one of the attackers, clad in distinctive black-and-silver armor, broke away from the melee and charged directly at Juhtmed· Lian intercepted him, her blade flashing in a deadly arc·

The enemy soldier fell, but not before uttering a chilling phrase: "The prince must not reach the council·"

Juhtmed's eyes narrowed, the weight of the words settling heavily in his chest· He turned to Lian· "We need him· Alive·"

The battle ended as abruptly as it began· The remaining attackers, seeing their plan unravel, retreated into the cliffs· Juhtmed's forces, though battered, stood victorious·

One of the black-and-silver soldiers lay bound at Juhtmed's feet, his face bruised but defiant· Lian knelt beside him, her dagger poised· "Who sent you?" she demanded·

The man sneered· "You'll find out soon enough, Prince· If you live that long·"

Juhtmed's gaze was icy· "Take him with us· We'll learn the truth in due time·"

As the envoy resumed their journey, the bridge now behind them, Juhtmed's thoughts were darker than ever· The attacks were growing more coordinated, more determined· Whoever was behind them wasn't merely trying to delay—they wanted him silenced·

And the mention of the council suggested stakes far higher than he'd anticipated· 

The quiet of the camp was deceptive, the crackling fire providing only a fragile barrier against the weight of uncertainty. Juhtmed's mind churned, dissecting the different confession. The House of Dervain—a supposed ally—loomed large in his thoughts, and the subtle threads of politics and betrayal began to weave a troubling tapestry.

As the soldiers rested fitfully, their weapons close at hand, Kaitsja's scanned the perimeter. He stood leaning against a tree, the shadows playing tricks on his rugged features. Lian approached silently, her steps careful not to disturb the sleeping men.

"You should rest," she said, her voice low but firm.

Kaitsja smirked without turning. "And miss the chance to save you when danger strikes? Never."

Lian crossed her arms, her face a mask of irritation. "I don't need a knight, and especially not one as insufferable as you."

Kaitsja chuckled, but his tone turned serious. "You're worried about him, aren't you?" He jerked his head in the direction of Juhtmed, who sat motionless near the fire, lost in thought.

Lian sighed, her defenses dropping for a moment. "He carries too much on his shoulders. This journey, the crown, the threat of betrayal... it's an heavy burden."

"He can handle it," Kaitsja said simply. "But you're right to worry. People like him—they often miss the small things. The personal stakes."

Lian looked at him sharply. "And what would you know about that?"

Kaitsja's smirk faded, replaced by something else. "More than you'd think." He pushed off the tree and walked away, leaving Lian to ponder his words.

The next morning, the camp stirred early. Juhtmed was already awake, his eyes scanning the horizon as the first light of dawn bathed the landscape in a pale glow. Lian approached him, her expression unreadable.

"Your Highness," she began, her tone measured. "I believe we should consider splitting our forces. Send a smaller group ahead to scout and confirm the Dervain's intentions while the rest of us follow at a safer pace."

Juhtmed nodded thoughtfully. "A reasonable suggestion. But who would lead the scouting party?"

Lian hesitated. "I would volunteer myself."

"No need," Kaitsja interjected, striding into the conversation. "I'll take the scouts. After all, I'm expendable, right?"

Lian scowled. "This isn't a game, Kaitsja. If you—"

Juhtmed raised a hand, silencing her. "Very well. Kaitsja, you'll lead the scouts. Take four men and report back with any findings."

Kaitsja grinned. "Finally, some trust. Don't worry, Your Highness—I'll bring back more than just trouble this time."

Juhtmed watched him depart with the selected scouts, his expression inscrutable. Lian frowned, her unease clear. "Are you sure about this, Your Highness? He's reckless."

"He's also resourceful," Juhtmed replied. "And if there's danger ahead, I'd rather it meet someone who can adapt on the fly."

Kaitsja's group moved quickly, the terrain growing more treacherous as they approached the edge of the Dervain territory. The sun climbed higher, its warmth doing little to dispel the tension in the air. Kaitsja's usual banter was absent, replaced by a focused silence that unsettled the soldiers with him.

As they crested a hill, the sprawling estate of House Dervain came into view. It was an impressive sight: a fortress-like structure surrounded by lush farmland, the walls gleaming white in the midday sun. Yet something felt off.

Kaitsja motioned for the group to halt, crouching low to observe. His keen eyes picked out details that didn't belong—guards posted in unusual positions, a small detachment of soldiers moving toward the gates with haste.

"This isn't right," he muttered. "They're preparing for something."

One of the soldiers beside him whispered, "Do you think they know we're coming?"

Kaitsja nodded slowly. "Maybe. Or maybe they're dealing with trouble of their own. Either way, why i don't take a closer look."

Leaving the soldiers in a concealed position, Kaitsja slipped down the hill, his movements silent and deliberate. He reached the edge of the estate's outer wall, finding a small vantage point to peer inside.

What he saw made his stomach tighten. A group of men, clearly mercenaries, were being paid off by a Dervain official. The scene was swift but unmistakable—a bags of coin was exchanged, and the mercenaries dispersed.

"So, it was true...," Kaitsja murmured, retreating to his group. He relayed what he had seen, his tone grim. "We need to get this back to the prince. He'll surely know what to do."

Back at the main group, Juhtmed listened intently as what Kaitsja recounted. The prince's face remained calm, but Lian could see the tension in his posture.

"If the Dervain are hiring mercenaries, it could mean a split within their house," Juhtmed said, his voice thoughtful. "Or worse, they're preparing for open conflict but its more unlikely."

Lian's brow furrowed. "But why target us? If they intended treachery, wouldn't it be easier to simply refuse our envoy?"

"Unless," Kaitsja interjected, "Its like you said prince their maybe a conflict between their house."

Juhtmed nodded slowly. "It's a possibility. Either way, we can't proceed without understanding their true intentions. We'll approach cautiously, but we must maintain an appearance of trust."

"Trust?" Lian repeated incredulously. "After what we've seen?"

"Its the only thing i can think of, Lian," Juhtmed said quietly. "Unless you have a better idea."

Kaitsja smirked. "If its our only way."