The Devil's Cursed Witch

Inside an ordinary tavern at the border of a certain human kingdom, a young blond man in his early twenties sat down in exhaustion. He was eye-catching, not only because he was handsome and tall and obviously of high birth, but also because he was accompanied by a group of cloaked men with swords strapped in their waists. There were about twenty of them, and their group alone took over four tables. All of them looked travel-worn and came to the tavern to relax for the night. As the server brought food and drinks for them, the disappointed-looking young man picked up the beer tankard while his two companions on the table could only sigh to see him like that. The young man was the third prince of the Valor Royal Family and one of Ember's older brothers, Prince Rhian Valor. It's been many months since they departed from the royal capital of Valor, searching for the lost princess after that fire on the haunted mountain. The prince had given his all to find his younger sister, leaving no stones unturned like a madman, risking his life traveling through foreign kingdoms, but there was no result. Not even a single hint of his sister's whereabouts could be found. They did not even know if she was alive. Since there was no corpse in the mountain, the royal family had sent people in search for her with the hopes she survived and fled elsewhere. Yet even now, that feeble hope was slowly dimming.

All three princes had gone separate ways, leading their own knightly orders to scour each city, town and village known to mankind. The First and Second Princes were officially investigating under the command of the King of Valor, while the youngest prince set off under the guise of an excursion, but all three of her sons were working under secret orders from the Queen.

As far as Queen Shanel was concerned, it would be best for the princess to live a quiet and stable life away from her cruel royal father. Her order was to ensure the safety of the royal family's only princess. To hide her from the eyes of King Gregor!

Rhian and his men had reached the end of their search, the last village at the edge of the kingdom, where further ahead lay nothing but unending forest so dangerous no sane human dare enter. Beyond that were gigantic mountains as high as the sky. It was the end of the continent. "Your Highness, shall we arrange to return to Valor tomorrow?" one of the knights sitting with him asked. In response the young prince simply downed the entire mug of liquor down his throat. Disappointment and frustration were visible on his tired face. He had lost hope in finding his missing sister and fulfilling the promise he made to his mother.

Just then, they heard some commotion coming from a table nearby. A drunk old man was creating a scene, arguing with a group of miners from another table with red-faced anger. "You morons, you don't believe me? I tell you there is that secret kingdom beyond that forest! A black dragon protects that kingdom and elves do live there."

The miners laughed at him. "No wonder people call you Mad John. You are out of your mind." "Well, I remember from what my father told me, Mad John was found half-dead in the forest around four decades ago by the former Village Chief. He must have gone insane from fear back then." "It was lucky he even survived."

"Stop this nonsense talk already, old man. We are in no mood to listen to your garbage stories. We are no little boys who want to listen to silly tales about dragons."

The old man named John slammed down his beer. "I have seen it. I have seen it all when I was young. I ran away from there!"

"Yes, and you came here to spread the news of that kingdom. What, you want to say there is a banquet we are invited to, otherwise the fairies will come to kidnap the village children? You should have stayed there with that dragon and made him your pet and fly on his back."

"If you tamed the dragon, then you are the master of their king!"

Loud laughter erupted throughout the entire tavern. It appeared that the old man was infamous for his reputation as a lunatic, but the village people treat him well despite him showing signs of senility.

"Fine, don't believe me," the drunk old man shouted. One of the miners cajoled him, "Well, have you seen the dragon with your own eyes? How big is it? Can I hold it in my palm?" It was obvious he was referring to a common lizard.

John snorted. " I have not seen the Almighty Black Dragon himself, but I have seen an elf merchant—a real elf!—who came to visit my old village. You won't believe how a man can be so beautiful and he doesn't age."

"What? How can you boast of dragons when you haven't seen one? Old man, your story is full of holes. Alright fine, how big is this kingdom? How many cities?" "I don't know. According to my parents, it is only a tiny kingdom but all sorts of supernatural beings that you only hear in stories live there. Witches, ogres, fairies, werewolves, shapeshifters—"

"Oh, I've heard of shapeshifters!" one man said in a funny tone. "In books, they say those fox women can shapeshift and turn into unrivaled beauties that can rob men of their wits. More beautiful than any princess." He then grinned. "Say, Mad John. Can you get one for me? I can have some furry fun with her."

"Fun?" The drunk old man sneered. "Even before that you will be dead. Those foxes are dangerous." "How can you tell when you haven't seen them?" the man shot back.

"I heard they eat human liver. Say, Mad John, do you still have your liver? Remove your clothes and show us your scar. Or they found your liver to be rotten and spared you?"

"The foxes found him too ugly they didn't even glance his way!"

Once more, the people inside the tavern laughed at him. Out of anger, John grabbed the tankard of beer from his table and threw it at the miners. The men good-naturedly dodged, and they even teased him about him missing his target and to practice more. "Don't believe me, you morons!"

"We believe you!" one miner hollered, causing everyone to burst into cheers of "Yes, we believe you" and "Tell us more about the dragon!" John started to walk out of the tavern while mumbling, "Of course, I have not seen the Almighty Black Dragon. Can a commoner see the King? But I can still clearly remember that silver-haired elf…"

The prince perked up the moment he heard those words. When he began investigating the incident of the fire, he heard rumors of a strange and inhumanly attractive silver-haired man inquiring about the witch living in the cursed mountain. The gold coins he offered to the people in exchange for information did not belong to any of the kingdom. The prince pulled out a gold coin from his pocket. It had an image of a flying dragon marked on it on one side, and on the other side of the coin was a symbol of some foreign language. He had done research of it but could never find out which kingdom this came from. He even ventured into old historical records, but no ancient civilization or fallen nation matched those symbols.

Rhian stood up from his chair, intending to follow that drunk man. His intuition was telling him this old drunk held the answers to his questions.