I Reincarnated as the Bastard Prince? Well, At least I'm OP!-Chapter 67: A new friend

After Raven chose Rust to be her master, he bowed respectfully to her.

"I would be honoured to train you," Rust said. "I'll transform you into a fine warrior in no time."

Raven gave him a grateful nod. "Thank you, Rust. I'm honoured to be your student."

I reached out to her and handed her a small, black metallic key with runes glowing faintly on its surface.

"What's this?" she asked curiously.

"It's a magic key," I explained, pressing it into Raven's palm. "It opens a portal to the Red Dragon's domain. You won't have to wait around for me to pick you up anymore. With that, you come and go as you please."

Raven's eyes widened as she turned the key over in her hands. "Wait, you've had this all along and never told me?"

I chuckled. "Actually, I didn't think you'd need it. But now… you've grown. You've chosen to become stronger. So keep it safe—because you're the only one I trust with this key."

Raven's expression grew solemn. "Then I swear," she said, placing a hand over her heart, "I'll protect it with my life."

"Good," I said. "Because this domain… it's Gwyneria's home. It must stay hidden. Secret. If it ever falls into the wrong hands…"

"I understand," she nodded firmly. "It'll stay with me."

With that, I gave her one last glance as Rust stepped up beside her, ready to oversee her first day of training.

I turned and made my way back toward the towering dragon's palace.

At the end of the great hall, Gwyneria stood waiting beside Skadra.

My eyes lit up. "Skadra?"

She smiled warmly and bowed deeply. She was dressed in the same white and black maid uniform as Gwyneria.

It was a strange but oddly fitting sight. "Welcome home, Lord Ghorath," she said softly.

I stepped closer and ruffled her white hair. "I like your outfit. It fits you."

She blushed slightly, trying to fix her bangs. "Thank you…"

"She's been helping around the domain," Gwyneria said, arms folded but a soft expression on her face. "Turns out I needed a second hand. Between maintaining the domain, preparing training areas, and cooking the meals… she's come in handy."

I smiled. Gwyneria had changed so much from the prideful dragoness I first met.

Gone was her massive ego—now she was responsible, even nurturing in her own way. It was a good look for her.

"You've softened, Gwyneria," I said with a smirk. "I love it."

She rolled her eyes but smiled. "I've adapted. I'm just doing my duty to serve you better. Don't think just because I wear a maid uniform and cook and clean means I've grown weak. I can be dangerous if I want to. I'm a great dragon, remember?"

I nodded, then my face turned serious. "Gwyneria," I said, my voice dropping. "I need your help with something."

She met my gaze squarely, already knowing. "It's about the boy in the dungeon, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I muttered. "Richard. He tried to hurt Raven. He nearly killed her. That's crossing the line. I've let it go too far, and I need to end this… now."

Gwyneria's gaze grew intense. "Like I mentioned before… you can't take someone's magic. You can only seal it."

I took a deep breath. "Then teach me. I'm ready to learn how to seal his magic."

She gave a slow nod. "Very well. Come with me. We'll begin at once."

* * * *

The dungeon was dark and damp, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and old magic.

As I walked down the narrow corridor, I passed the cell where the red-armored knight from the mines was imprisoned.

He sat against the wall, unchained but motionless. His armor was stripped down to simple linen.

His eyes pierced through me like they had the day we fought. Only this time, they weren't filled with bloodlust… but with regret.

We stared at each other for a moment, not a word spoken.

Dwayne had reported new information about him earlier in the day. Apparently, the knight wasn't just a wandering warrior or mercenary.

He was once a proud paladin who served under King Harold Lyon… Raven's father.

I was beginning to see the tragedy hidden behind Raven's bloodline.

It was becoming a pattern. Harold Lyon seemed to have a talent for creating broken, vengeful enemies.

I turned and walked past the knight without a word. For now, I'd leave him be. When the time was right, I'd decide what to do with him.

Finally, we reached Richard's cell.

He was chained by the neck, his arms bound in heavy manacles engraved with suppression runes—preventing him from transforming into his beast form.

The moment he saw me, his lips peeled back in a snarl.

"Where the hell is this place?" he spat, yanking against his restraints. "You're one *

strange brat. Let me out!"

I ignored him, turning to Gwyneria instead. "I'm ready."

She nodded, her eyes gleaming in the dark.

"Sealing magic isn't like casting a spell," she began, her voice calm but firm. "It's about trapping it. Imagine you're containing fire in a jar without extinguishing the flame. The more powerful the fire, the stronger the jar must be."

As she explained, I raised my hands, repeating the incantation she whispered.

Richard's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. "W-wait—what are you—?!" Panic edged his voice.

"Focus on your target," Gwyneria instructed. "Channel their aura, find the source of their power… then wrap it. Bind it. Seal it."

I stretched my hand toward Richard. A white-blue light began to form on my palm, connecting to the core of his magic pulsing in his chest.

Richard began thrashing, tugging at the chains. "You little bastard! You wouldn't dare!"

He could feel it. The pull. The loss.

"Stop—STOP!! You don't understand what you're doing! I need this! Don't take it away!!"

But it was too late.

I clenched my hand into a fist.

With a final motion, I pulled—and his magic ripped free from his body.

Then, with a whispered command, I sealed it into a Black crystal hanging from a chain.

The moment the magic left him, Richard collapsed, gasping like a drowning man. His hands shook as he stared at them.

He felt empty and powerless.

"I… I can't… I can't feel it…" he stammered. "My magic. It's gone."

I turned the necklace in my palm, inspecting it as it glowed faintly. "Your magic is sealed inside this."

"You… you sealed me?"

"You'll never access your beast powers again," I said calmly, "unless I break the seal. And believe me—I won't do that easily."

Richard stared at me, his face now ashen with horror.

Gwyneria stepped beside me, satisfied. "Well done, master," she said. "You've done it. The seal is flawless."

Richard's breath came in ragged gasps as he stared up at me, his eyes wide. "I... I don't understand," he choked out. "Who are you? How are you so powerful?"

I crouched down to his level, meeting his gaze. "I think it's about time we had a chat."

His breathing slowed as he looked at me warily, waiting.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "First of all, I'm not a demon. I'm just a regular boy—like you. But I am gifted. Very gifted."

Richard flinched, the words cutting deeper than if I had shouted.

"The reason I defeated you isn't because of tricks or luck. It's because I'm stronger than you, Richard. I've always been stronger than you." I held up a hand before he could protest. "You wouldn't even taste a fraction of my full power, even if you trained for a hundred years."

Richard's face reared back in shock. "How... how can a ten-year-old be that gifted?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Are you some kind of prodigy? Wait—" His eyes suddenly widened. "Were you the hero from the mines? The one who also saved Princess Camilia?"

I shrugged. "I've been called a prodigy. A hero. Titles I don't really care about." A small smirk tugged at my lips. "But yeah, all those rumors you've heard? Those were just my small feats."

Richard was speechless. His lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. He just kept staring at me like I was some walking legend.

I walked to the bars and crouched slightly, meeting him eye-to-eye.

"Richard, you're not my enemy. You never were."

His eyes twitched.

I went on. "I don't hate you. I don't even blame you for everything you did. You were lost… drowning in your own pride and pain."

I extended a hand through the bars, palm open.

"I want to be your friend—if you'll let me." My voice softened. "Let's put the past behind us and move forward."

For a long moment, he just stared at my outstretched hand like it was something foreign. I held it there, steady.

Then, slowly and hesitantly, he reached out.

And for the first time, the hatred in his eyes disappeared like smoke.