Chapter Eighteen: Friends

For Avril Strick, this was her first time witnessing such a vast array of magical beasts and plants, each so numerous, diverse, and strange in form that her eyes were dazzled the moment she entered the castle.

“Oh, this little white bear is adorable! What is it?”

“That is a polar ice bear, still in its juvenile stage. It must be kept in a magical cage with an ice and snow barrier, or it will succumb to heatstroke.”

“And what about that colorful parrot?”

“That is not a parrot, Your Highness. It’s a Rainbow Bird, capable of changing its colors. Its innate ability is to blend into its surroundings, becoming nearly invisible. While it’s not very powerful, its escape skills are unmatched. Master Hines used the pigment sacs from its body to invent a simulation potion that can temporarily help a person merge with their environment.”

“What about that big cat over there?”

“In fact… that’s a black-spotted leopard, Your Highness.”

Faced with these novelties, Gong Hao realized that this princess was, in truth, not much different from any ordinary girl. She, too, would be curious, become excited, and feel dejected. As long as she didn’t obsess over questions of status, she was, at least, not as terrifying as her initial demeanor suggested.

The only issue was that the princess was always accompanied by a throng of attendants. Whenever she tried to do anything, a group of servants would rush forward to dissuade her: “Your Highness, with your noble status, it is hardly appropriate to get too close to such lowly creatures.”

Gong Hao began to understand what made this princess so imperious.

Those legendary princesses—gentle, gracious, like caged canaries forever yearning to fly free—were, in fact, a fantasy. Out of a hundred princesses, perhaps only one would be gentle, and even then, only relatively so.

Their upbringing destined them to grow up amidst endless flattery, constantly reminded by their education that they were inherently superior. Whatever they desired was readily given; over time, they became accustomed to such a life. They might complain, but only out of humanity’s innate dissatisfaction. To expect them to relinquish their noble status and mingle with their servants as equals? Such self-effacing acts brought them no benefit. On the contrary, it might encourage some servants to believe their mistress was easily manipulated.

Princess Avril had evidently grown up in such an environment, her education ensuring she was always reminded of her nobility, led to believe she was entitled to everything, and that it was all perfectly natural.

Of course, this was true in most cases—but not always.

Like now.

The saber-toothed beast, always gnawing at its chains, caught the princess’s attention. She cried out in excitement, “Look! How magnificent it is! Bring it out for me—I want to ride it! I’ll make it my mount!”

A red-robed archmage, startled, quickly interjected, “Your Highness, this is a very fierce magical beast. I fear it is not suitable as your mount. Nor is it safe to release it.”

The princess glared at the archmage. “Kloss, I don’t need you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t like, nor do I need you to question my decisions!”

Such boldness from one so young—she was precocious in her imperiousness!

The archmage could only look on helplessly.

The saber-toothed beast was brought forth, bound with thick iron chains, several elite warriors holding it firmly to prevent it from breaking free. Yet even so, the momentary taste of freedom was enough for the beast to unleash a thunderous roar.

The roar was deafening.

The princess pointed her scepter at the beast and shouted, “I command you to kneel before me, obey my orders from this day forth, and become my mount!”

Ah, to command a magical beast to kneel—such an absurd act could only be expected from this little princess.

Gong Hao found it amusing.

He began to understand why emperors throughout history had committed such unimaginable follies. Like the famed Roman emperor Nero, who ordered his own capital set ablaze simply to prove his right to dispose of his property at will. Or Vlad the Impaler of Romania, who had the hats of Central Asian merchants nailed to their heads because they failed to doff them in his presence.

There was even a pope who commanded a mountain to come to him, an emperor who ordered the tides to recede, and a general who commanded a rain of arrows not to strike him…

When power grows to such monstrous proportions, the mind grows mad as well, and such rulers come to believe they can command all things, losing touch with reality. Compared to these outlandish decrees, King Zhou’s wine pools and forests of meat, or King You’s beacon-fire games with his nobles, seem all too ordinary.

At least the latter were merely acts of extravagance, not of madness.

It seemed this little princess was no different. Twelve years in such a privileged environment had convinced her she could command anything—magical beasts included. Yet clearly, the saber-toothed beast was unimpressed.

It roared furiously at her. Had the warriors loosened their grip for a moment, it would have torn this “noble-blooded” princess to shreds without hesitation.

Yet, it appeared she was not wholly corrupted by her upbringing.

For in the next moment, she did not fly into a rage, but instead gazed at the beast in wonder and asked Gong Hao, “Why did it refuse me?”

Oh, heavens… she’s really just a girl who knows nothing at all.

Gong Hao realized that, behind the princess’s overbearing manner, lay a profound ignorance. Notably, when defied, she did not immediately order the beast’s execution as he had feared, but instead inquired as to why it had disobeyed—proof, at least, that she was not inherently cruel.

She simply assumed that no living thing would ever refuse her, and had not yet learned to destroy all resistance through anger when her will was thwarted. When power failed her, curiosity took over.

Perhaps, thought Gong Hao, she was not beyond hope.

“In truth, Your Highness, I believe that worldly authority means nothing to it. For a magical beast, your nobility is beyond its comprehension.” Gong Hao answered cautiously.

The princess frowned, murmuring, “If that’s the case… perhaps a magical contract would work. That way, it would have to obey whatever I command.”

“Actually, Your Highness, even a contract might not help,” Gong Hao had to remind her.

“Why not?” The princess was surprised.

“The essence of a magical contract is that, once signed, the master has the power of life and death over their beast—they can strip it of its will, even its life, at any moment. If the master dies, the beast dies as well. But this also means it’s a form of forced restraint, not willing submission. History is full of cases where abused beasts turned on their masters in a final, deadly rebellion. A contract is not always a guarantee of safety; handled poorly, it can bring disaster. Many have perished at the claws of their own contracted beasts because they let down their guard after signing. Thus, such contracts are usually made only after a bond of trust has formed—the contract is a safeguard, not a tool. The saber-toothed beast is a proud creature—it will not easily bow its head to any command. If you force a contract, Your Highness, you would be putting your own life at risk. No one can say if the beast might choose death for the sake of freedom and honor.”

Gong Hao’s words not only surprised Avril, but also startled several listening mages.

The red-robed Kloss couldn’t help but ask, “How do you know all this?”

“I work in the island’s library, as you know,” Gong Hao replied at once. “There are plenty of records on magic there. I may be but an alchemist, not a true mage, but some knowledge is essential. Magical contracts are a basic spell, well-documented.”

“I see,” Kloss nodded, finding the young servant before him more intriguing than expected.

“So, there’s nothing I can do with it?” Avril sounded deflated.

“Don’t worry, Your Highness. If you only wish to ride it for a while, perhaps I can help,” Gong Hao said.

Everyone was taken aback.

Gong Hao walked to the saber-toothed beast, smiling as he greeted it, “Hey, Fang, you’re being naughty again.”

The beast looked at Gong Hao and let out a few low rumbles, then lay down reluctantly.

Gong Hao stroked its thick back, and astonishingly, the beast did not resist.

He looked up at Avril. “Fang has a bad temper, but he’s not without intelligence. His teeth are highly prized by alchemists, but constant grinding is uncomfortable for him. Recently, I found a medicine that temporarily dulls his senses, so he doesn’t feel pain while his teeth are filed. He’s grateful, so he’s friendlier with me.”

“So you can ride him?” Avril asked.

“No,” Gong Hao shook his head, “for both magical beasts and people, freedom is always most precious. If we let him go now, he might not harm me, but he would surely run away immediately.”

“That’s a pity.”

“But if he’s kept on a chain, knowing he cannot escape, then riding him for a while should be possible,” Gong Hao replied with a smile.

The little princess’s eyes shone. “Then can you help me ride him?”

“Yes, but it’s not simple.”

Several mages cried out at once, “Your Highness, you mustn’t!”

“Silence! You’re all useless—not even as good as a servant!”

“But it’s dangerous—”

“That’s precisely why I need you. If we never take risks, what use are you at all?”

Gong Hao could only smile wryly. This little princess was skilled in sophistry.

Is this the logic of those in power? Capricious, willful, self-assured—creating trouble for themselves, with their followers left to deal with the consequences.

Irresponsibility is the perfect summary of their behavior.

Now, all the angry stares were trained on him. Should anything befall the princess, he would be torn limb from limb.

Yet Gong Hao was unafraid. “Your Highness, if you truly wish to ride him, there are a few things you must do.”

“Go on.”

“First, please set aside your scepter and change into ordinary clothing. You may keep your floral coronet, but your shoes must also be changed.”

“Why?”

“Your Highness, ornate decorations mean nothing to magical beasts. On the contrary, they distance you from them. If you wish to ride him, you must show him you mean no harm. Though worldly power is meaningless to such creatures, they can sense your status through these trappings. By removing them, you show you are making sacrifices for him—giving up your nobility, your glory, your desire to command. For magical beasts, actions speak louder than words.”

“But I have no intention of giving up such things for him.”

“Your Highness, it is only temporary. If you wish to gain something, you must sometimes give something up.”

“I never lose anything—unless I no longer want it.”

“But to magical beasts, only such gestures prove your sincerity. I doubt any princess has ever given up her lofty status to treat one as an equal. That would touch him. Why not try it? You’ll find that changing your clothes brings you no loss, and your retainers would never dare disrespect you for it.”

Avril hesitated, but in the end complied. Her curiosity and competitive spirit overcame her cultivated haughtiness, and Gong Hao’s eloquence achieved the desired effect. She still muttered, “If it won’t let me ride, you’ll be severely punished.”

Dressed in plain clothes, unarmed with her scepter, the princess looked much more agreeable.

“Now, walk toward him slowly. Steady your breathing, don’t be angry, don’t feel superior. In the world of magical beasts, there is neither noble nor common blood—only friends and enemies. Now say to him: I am your friend.”

“I am your friend.”

“Not with your mouth—with your heart. Say it with your heart.”

“I... am your friend,” she whispered, then frowned. “Grael, what is a friend?”

“Someone with whom you can interact as an equal—not your servant, not your slave, someone who need not kneel or beg you for anything.”

“That’s impossible. Except for my father, mother, and brothers, no one is equal to a princess.”

“That’s because you’ve never known the wonder of friendship.”

“Is having friends truly wonderful?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Perhaps one day, you will need friends.”

“Then let it start now.”

Princess Avril closed her eyes and softly murmured, “I... am your friend. I will not look down on you, will not command you. With me, you are my equal—you need not kneel, nor beg for my mercy or pity, forgiveness or sympathy. You… are my friend…”

She spoke gently to the saber-toothed beast, oblivious to the “lowly servant” standing nearby.

Gong Hao watched the princess in silence.

He felt that she was not without redeeming qualities.

She simply lacked proper guidance.

By her side, the saber-toothed beast’s hostility toward Avril gradually faded.

With Gong Hao’s support, Avril gently mounted the beast’s back.

Though the warriors and mages remained vigilant, ready to save the princess at a moment’s notice, nothing amiss happened.

Whether it was Avril’s words or Gong Hao’s calming influence, no one could say for sure.

But in that moment, everyone realized with astonishment that, in just a short time, the haughty, troublesome princess had suddenly grown gentle.

She began to look like a true little girl.

Good heavens, who is this servant? How had he managed to change the princess so?

Everyone was left in utter astonishment.