***
The man who entered the room was wearing what looked like rather expensive looking clothes.
No matter how fancy his clothes were, his rude attitude left much to be desired. Still, Soria decided to let it slide. Even she had to admit—it would be a shock to open a door and find a chicken staring back at you.
She studied the man’s jet-black hair and crimson eyes. Soria didn’t know much about so-called heroes or champions, but she did know at least this: they usually wore armor. At the very least, they carried swords.
But the man who had entered her room had neither.
Her tiny head tilted to the side.
‘Is he a Hero? Champion? Prince?’
She darted her eyes around, searching for a sign that might reveal his identity—but found nothing.
The man wore a jet-black uniform, and only the insignia engraved on what looked like golden buttons gave any hint of his status.
Soria narrowed her eyes. Two eagles perched in the air with talons outstretched, crossed by a pair of swords.
‘What’s that symbol of?’
While Soria was tilting her head at the unfamiliar emblem, the man was in the middle of his own kind of shock.
He looked around the room. The princess of the Kingdom of Syenn, whom he had fully expected to find, was nowhere to be seen.
He pulled back the long canopy curtains, but the pristine white bed beneath was empty.
He turned his gaze toward the foot of the bed with a disbelieving expression.
No matter how many times he looked, the only thing in the room was a single chicken perched atop a cushion, staring directly at him. A plump white chicken with yellow eyes.
Lenok stared at the bird for a long moment, then furrowed his brow and began searching the room. He had come all this way to personally break the ancient curse—and yet the sleeping princess was nowhere to be found.
His face contorted into a scowl.
“Was I tricked after all? Dammit. Those knights sacrificed their lives for nothing…”
[Such insolence!]
The voice that interrupted Lenok’s lament came from below.
More precisely—from the chicken, now puffed up in indignation.
[O Hero, who braved the thorny towering vines, why dost thou not reveal thy name and station!]
Lenok’s red eyes widened.
“The chicken…”
“Your Majesty!! To rush in ahead alone! We don’t know what dangers might—”
Lenok turned to see his knight bursting into the room, then turned back toward the chicken with a weighty motion of his head.
Knight.
Chicken.
Knight.
Chicken.
With a pale face, he spoke to his knight.
“Sir Paul. Lend me your sword.”
“Pardon?”
“There’s a cursed chicken. I shall sever its head and offer it to the Goddess.”
“…What?”
“I said, there is a cursed chicken! Hurry up and give me the damn sword—!”
At that, Soria finally lost it. With a furious flap, she took to the air. Her long, long, long patience had reached its limit.
She kicked off from the bed and leapt atop the round rod that supported the canopy. From her elevated perch, she looked down at the two stunned men.
Her bright yellow eyes now burned with fury. It had been 147 years since the sorcerer foretold of a hero that would come and save her.
While she had never truly believed it would happen, she had started just a moment ago. It was just hard to believe that damn sorcerer wasn’t a giant liar.
Regardless!
That moment of fleeting hope was now shattered, now surged an anger that was beyond imagination.
She ground her beak with a crunch. The years she had endured, dreaming of the Syenn Kingdom’s revival, now felt laughably pointless.
[How dare you! To treat the sole heir of Syenn with such savagery!!]
Her booming voice echoed through the room as her pristine white wings spread wide.
Flap-.
A few snow-white feathers fluttered down, amid her flapping.
Extending one claw forward, she proclaimed with royal authority:
[I shall punish you for your crimes!]
Lenok stared at her and thought:
‘That chicken has gone mad.’
A chicken talking… well, fine. He could accept, for argument’s sake, that it was a cursed chicken. Chop off its head, offer it to the temple of the Goddess Raella, and call it a day.
But a chicken that suddenly flapped its wings, kicked away its cushion, and soared onto the bed’s canopy? That was something else entirely.
Lenok, noticing his knight standing frozen following the chicken’s sudden cry, swiftly drew the sword from his knight’s belt.
He never imagined he’d regret coming to this room unarmed, just to retrieve a princess from a fallen kingdom.
With a scowl on his face, he gripped the sword and stepped forward. His crimson eyes narrowed. One strike. That was all it would take to sever the chicken’s head.
At least, that’s what he thought.
Drip… Drop… Fshhh—
“What the hell…”
[Another failure! That damned sorcerer…!]
As a light drizzle began to soak his hair, Lenok fell into contemplation.
To hell with princesses and everything else.
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