I Screwed the Novel's Plot

Darkness enveloped the space as black clouds covered the moon. The lively noise of the day vanished, and changed into dead silence at night, the only sound that could be heard was owls and crickets singing together in the melody.

Rather than feeling frightened, their song was like a hymn to the knights. It had been five months here and they got used to it somehow.

The refugee camp was a wooden fort in the shape of a square and in each corner stood a watch tower. A watchman who stood inside shuddered at the chilly wind that caressed his body. He took out the booze from his magical sphere and drank it to warm up his body.

"Hm?"

He stopped drinking as he caught a glimpse of a shadow. He bent his back forward and squinted his eyes to scan the outside of the fort thoroughly, but what he found were wobbling trees.

"Maybe just my imagination."

He straightened his back and lifted his bottle to resume drinking the booze, but suddenly his body fell to the ground below and an arrow was planted in his heart.

Another watchman glanced right after he heard a loud thud and what followed, he was knocked down with his head skewered by an arrow.

--Thud!

--Thud!

--Thud!

Gradually the watchmen and guards at the Refugee Camp were killed. Shortly after, shadowy figures jumped down the wooden fort and scattered throughout the camp.

Black-clothed men could be seen tip-toeing beside the giant tent. Their heads vigorously turned to every side; to ensure that no one witnessed their arrival.

However, the one at the lead was stoned and plummeted to the ground when an arrow penetrated his neck. The person behind him was stunned and hastily turned away to escape; he realized that the enemy had noticed their intrusion, and before he could move his feet, an arrow ran through his nape.

His mouth gouged out blood and he toppled over to the ground. Men in black crept stealthily and opened the tent lid but what greeted him was a sword that stabbed his heart. The person behind him widened his eyes, blood dripped from his neck, and his head fell followed by its body.

Ulrich sighed when the head hit his shoes and stopped rolling. He raised his head and looked at the old man who stood not too far away from him.

"Isn't that too excessive?"

"Which part?"

"Never mind."

Ulrich shook his head at Fedel's brutality then pulled out his sword and sheathed it back.

"For now let's hide their body."

Ulrich dragged the intruder's body inside the tent but, when Fedel entered, the refugees gasped in unison. Ulrich hurriedly stepped and used his body to hide the head that was held by Fedel.

He put his index finger in front of his mouth towards them and the noise died down. Ulrich sighed and twirled his head to Fedel with a somber tone.

"Please do it moderately next time."

Honestly, Fedel didn't know how to respond, he had fought in many wars since a young age serving his Lord, Duke Aeneas, and what he performed was out of nature. But he answered anyway.

"...alright."

With that, they resumed their activities, they placed the corpses in the corner of the tent and covered them with fabric. Ulrich took out his handkerchief and wiped the blood from his hand, but he halted and stared at his hand blankly.

"But... I'm worried about His Highness the First Prince."

Fedel greyish rolled and looked at the man beside him. Ulrich sighed and continued.

"I just hope he's okay."

.

. For more chapters, please visit

.

A man wearing black attire looked at the torches that illuminated the darkness of the fort. He had sent around a hundred men to infiltrate the camp forty minutes ago but he received no reply as if the communication between them had been cut off.

Also, the air within the Refugee Camp that was unusually calm made him more agitated. Did the enemy notice it? He turned to a man beside him.

"Any reports?"

The man shook his head.

"Send the second batch--"

He couldn't resume his words as he and his other subordinates instantly drew their weapon to parried arrows that rained on them.

"Urg!"

"Argh!"

"Urk!"

It happened too suddenly and inevitably, some of his men were hurt and died in the ambush. Once the firing stopped, they promptly regrouped. They busily moved their eyes and swept the surroundings to locate the enemies but all they found were swaying trees.

"Ha! Hiding in the woods! You coward! Show yourself, you bastard!"

Alexander stood on the branch with his arm raised high. Unfazed by the leader's ridicule, his golden eyes looked at them coldly. He swung his raised hand forward and a hail of arrows stormed the army below once more.

"Urrggh!"

"Huaa!!"

"Aaaargh!!"

Alexander's face was devoid of any expression. He didn't even blink an eye when arrows mercilessly spiked their bodies. Blood splattered and drenched the soil but Alexander remained indifferent as if the scene that was revealed before his eyes and their screams meant nothing to him.

"Show yourself your son of a bitch!"

Their leader shouted furiously once again after the firing stopped. Alexander clucked his tongue in annoyance when felt his ears ringing.

Even without him yelling like that, he and the knights would eventually come out because they ran out of arrows. Although they had limited resources of arrows, now that a quarter of them were dead, it was worth it.

Alexander didn't know exactly how many of them left but estimated to be around five hundred or so, at least he managed to close the gap between their troops. Perhaps, it was time for him to finish them off and Alexander jumped out of the branch.

--Thud!

All of their eyes turned to the sound and due to how dark the forest was they had no idea what it was, but it looked like someone knelt on the ground as he landed. The person then stood up and a silhouette of a boy came into view.

However, what made them wary of him was not his boyish shape, but the golden eyes that shone brightly in the dark which reminded them of a predator eyeing its prey.

As the clouds that coated the moon lifted and they could dramatically see how the rays of moonlight moved slowly, bit by bit revealing him entirely.

Despite his eyes that emitted an intimidating glare and domineering presence, the boy's lips curved into an elegant smile.

All of them rolled their eyes when they heard numerous movements in the woods and one by one people wearing Chronians' armor appeared behind the trees and above the branches.

The leader returned his attention to the black-haired boy.

"Who are you?"

He asked in a hateful manner, yet, the boy in front of him just chuckled.

"I'm the one who will take your life."