I Reincarnated as the Bastard Prince? Well, At least I'm OP!-Chapter 65: The poisoned dagger

I was just coming from the girls' dorm, hands in my pockets, my steps slow and heavy.

I had asked the girls hanging around the entrance if Raven was inside.

They shook their heads. "No, she hasn't been back since she left for her club activity."

That hit me like a cold slap. I'd promised her I'd meet her at the shop. And I didn't.

I sighed, rubbing my forehead as I made my way down the dim stone corridor of the academy's east wing.

I'd been too caught up. Testing the black slime's properties, unlocking its potential—its healing abilities, armor capabilities, how it could morph into a weapon on command.

It was exhilarating. I'd been so eager to show her all the cool things it could do.

But now… now that excitement had died out.

I'd tried connecting to her telepathically—three times now. And each time… nothing.

Not even static. Just emptiness. It was like her presence had been wiped clean off the map.

That had never happened before. Not even when she was asleep. Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

I turned the corner near the training grounds, still deep in thought.

And that's when someone stepped right in front of me.

I stopped cold.

It was Richard.

That smug, lazy grin stretched across his face, his arms folded like he was just out for a casual stroll.

"Oi," he said, voice low and cocky. "Archer. You and I… we're going to talk."

"Maybe later, Richard," I said, trying to sidestep him. "I'm really not in the mood to face you right now."

He moved with me, blocking my path again, that grin never leaving his face. "What's the matter? Scared? It's just the two of us. Everyone else has gone to bed. No teachers. No friends. No distractions. It's the perfect time for us to settle our rivalry."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Isn't it kind of concerning you're beefing with a ten-year-old? You're literally old enough to be my big brother. Doesn't that shake your conscience even a little?"

His grin twitched into a sneer. "Not until I regain the honour you stole from me," he snapped.

"Honour this, honour that…" I waved a hand in the air, exasperated. "You keep chanting that like a broken record. What do you want from me? A rematch? Fine. I'll fight you again. This time, I'll even let you win so you'll finally be satisfied. How's that?"

His face flushed red with fury. "That's even more insulting!" he roared. "I will never be satisfied unless I defeat you with my own hands!"

I stared at him, then said quietly, "And you plan to defeat me by giving up your humanity? Becoming a beast-man just to get stronger? You're sick."

The words hit him hard. He snarled and slammed his fist p against the wall beside him.

Stone cracked under the force, leaving deep dents like someone had smashed it with a sledgehammer. Dust trickled down the surface.

He looked back at me, eyes wild, lips curled into a wide grin. "You won't be running your mouth anymore… not after we're done with the princess."

My blood froze.

My body stiffened, and the air around me changed.

"What did you say?" I said, my voice a low, cold whisper. My eyes locked on his.

His grin widened.

"Raven?" I took a step forward, my voice darker now. "What have you done to her?"

* * * *

Richard leaned against the cracked wall, arms folded, his grin as wicked as the night.

"She's in safe hands," he said with a lazy chuckle. "I left her with the masked jester. He seemed to have… a thing for her. I doubt he'll keep his hands to himself for long."

My vision darkened at the edges. A cold, seething rage coiled in my chest, sharpening my focus until the world narrowed to just him.

"You… what?" My voice came out low, my fists clenching at my sides as I took a step forward. "Where is she, Richard? If he lays one finger on her, I swear I'll—"

Pain.

A sharp, cold jolt struck my chest.

I glanced down slowly.

A thin, jagged, blade pulsing with a dark energy had impaled me right through the heart.

Richard's hand gripped the hilt tightly.

"When… did you…" I muttered, eyes wide in shock.

Then came the blood gushing up my throat. I coughed hard, spraying it across my sleeve.

Richard leaned in, wrapping his arms around me in a mockery of an embrace, his grip tight on the hilt.

"Isn't it beautiful?" he whispered, patting my back like we were old friends. "The look on your face as I finally break through your defenses."

He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, still gripping the knife lodged in my chest.

"I've always been concerned about those annoying barriers of yours," he said softly. "But this dagger? It's soaked in enough negative energy to tear through even the most powerful barriers."

I gasped, trying to channel magic, but something was wrong—my mana was slow, sluggish.

"And that's not all it can do," he added.

He twisted the hilt sharply.

A scream ripped from my throat as acid-like poison flooded through my veins.

The poison inside burned like hell, spreading through my veins, eating away at my strength. Every nerve burned as if lit by fire.

"This poison works on even the most resilient mages," Richard said smugly. "The jester said you're a monster—that the only way to beat you was to catch you off guard. As much as I hate being this sneaky… I know it's the only way to weaken you."

I glared up at him through the haze of pain, vision blurring. "Is… this how you regain your honour?" I croaked. "By stabbing me in the dark… like a coward?"

He laughed cold and merciless. "I can't be too hasty. The knife won't kill you yet."

Then, with a dark hum, he shoved the blade deeper. I felt it sink fully inside, disappearing within me, as if becoming one with my body.

I collapsed to my knees, my hands pressed to the ground to keep from falling flat on my face.

"You'll live for a day or two," Richard said above me. "Long enough to feel every inch of agony. Long enough to wish for death. But don't worry—I'll be the one to end you. Tomorrow. In front of the entire school. A proper duel."

Blood poured from my mouth as I coughed violently.

The world spun, dimming at the edges. Still, I forced my voice to rise. "Richard… it's not too late… We can still save you. Hate… only brings more hate…"

His boot slammed down on the back of my head, smashing me into the stone. A sickening crack rang out as he spit beside my face.

"Spare me your damn words, Archer," he growled. "Hate is the very reason I've gotten this far. Hate… is why I'm stronger than you."

Just then, a voice rang out, cutting through the night.

"Archer!"

Raven appeared out of nowhere, her eyes wide with horror.

Richard whirled around, genuinely startled. His mouth fell open. "What…? What is this? How the hell did you escape?" he spat, eyes darting in disbelief. "That's impossible!"

Raven's entire body trembled when she saw me on the ground, blood pooling beneath me, my breaths shallow and ragged.

Her expression was filled with raw rage. "What have you done to him?!"

Richard recovered quickly from his shock. He raised both hands mockingly. "Relax, princess. He's not dead… yet. Though, I admit, I'm more curious to know how did you escape Andras? Huh? Did he let you go? Or did you somehow convince him to spare you?"

"You've gone too far, Richard!" Raven's voice was filled with venom now, her hands clenched into fists. "You shouldn't have let your hate consume you! I swear… you will regret ever hurting Archer!

Richard threw his head back and laughed.

A crackling sound filled the air as red bolts of lightning burst from his skin.

His body began to mutate and enlarge, his muscles bulging unnaturally, eyes glowing like molten fire as his bones cracked and reshaped.

His beast form was emerging.

"Yeah, right," he growled, his claws extended. "For your information, I regret nothing. And right now, I'll kill you just to make my point clearer!"

He charged toward Raven with a maddened roar—then froze.

A sharp sound like steel slicing flesh, pierced the air.

Richard's body jerked violently.

He gasped, eyes widening as he looked down.

A dagger was lodged deep in his back, right between the shoulder blades.

He slowly turned his head and saw me standing behind him, battered, bloodied, but alive—my hand still gripping the hilt.

"You…" he roared in rage. "You brat!"

I smirked, blood still dripping from my lips. "Rule number one, Richard." I twisted the blade. "Never turn your back on an enemy."

His scream echoed through the night as the dagger's poison flooded his veins.