Chapter 1: Dungeon, Prince, Prisoner, and Science (1)

In the cold, damp dungeon, darkness permeated all around, the air filled with the rotten stench of the human body, its smell sickening. 

There was a torch lit with fire inserted every few meters across the moss-covered walls of the dungeon. The burning torched cracked every so often. Because the air lacked circulation and the oxygen level in the dungeon was too low, the torch emitted a black smoke caused by the incomplete combustion thus shining on the figures that looked all too terrifying.

Drip… drip…

The condensation of the water droplets from the top of the dungeon fell on the head of a dungeon guard. The water droplet wet his hair slightly, then poured onto his cheeks, and finally, down to his neck. It was cold, the water droplet, but the guard remained motionless, his muscles tightened like a dragon speared on the ground by a javelin. He maintained his breathing, steady and constant, but the residual light in his eyes could not help but float towards the entrance of the dungeon.

At the entrance stood a young man, maybe fifteen or sixteen years of age, dressed in simple aristocratic clothing. This young man, he was easy on the eyes. 

He entered the dungeon, countenance expressionless. Behind him was the dungeon guard’s captain who wore a submissive smile, his eyes masked with uneasiness. 

The guard captain was not frightened but a courageous lad who was somewhat nervous. The young man next to him was the sovereign king’s youngest son and second-in-line to the throne. A casual word of his could send the guard captain to the gallows. At the thought of this, the guard captain’s heart tightened, the muscles on his face a little stiff.

Richard shook his head, paying no heed to the guard captain’s mannerisms. A little over fifteen years had passed since traversing to a world similar to the Middle Ages. It was good he was blessed with a strong and mental constitution allowing him to adapt to his current identity and achieve his goals more efficiently to unravel his doubts of this world. 

“You,” Richard looked at the guard captain as he walked further inside the dungeon, “I once asked you to lead a team of soldiers to catch a Magi or those related to spells and abnormal phenomena. You completed the task twice, true, but it was an utter failure, merely catching a bunch of useless farmers to make up the numbers. Now, for the third time, did you do it properly? My patience is running thin.”

“Your Highness, this time… this time…” Cold sweat formed on the guard captain’s temples. His lips were dry and his throat parched, but fortunately, he managed to answer, voice croaking. “This time… this time I’ve managed to fulfill your request.” 

“And what of the soldier’s pension?” Richard asked again.

“Your Highness?” The guard captain was stunned. “Pension? What pension?”

Richard frowned. “Don’t tell me you failed to give pension for the wounded soldiers and his family? I at least would have appreciated your action a little bit more.”

“No!” the guard captain stared, reacted, and stammered. “Your… Your Highness, there are no casualties.”

“Hmm?” No casualties? No soldier casualties to capture those associated with supernatural phenomena?”

“Yes, Your Highness. None,” the guard captain said seriously.

“Well, all right.” 

There was some speculation in his heart. 

“Then tell me, who did you catch this time?” Richard said.

“Yes, Your Highness.” The guard captain calmed down for a moment before answering earnestly. “This time we caught four men, one a white-faced demon, a vampire, a halfling…”