Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 557

"Your Highness, we should go."

Lancelot's voice trembled with urgency, his gloved hand gripping Florian's arm as the walls around them continued to shake.

The knight's face was pale, his eyes darting between Florian and the chaos beyond the shattered window.

But Florian didn't move.

He couldn't.

His legs refused to listen, his mind spinning as he stared at the man—the monster—standing on the red dragon outside.

"How is he still alive?" Florian whispered, his voice barely audible under the roar of the battle.

Lancelot froze.

Florian turned to look at him, eyes wide, voice rising. "How is he still alive, Lancelot?"

Lancelot's throat bobbed. He looked down at his trembling hands as though they betrayed him.

"I–I don't know, Your Highness," he said finally, his voice breaking. "I could've sworn he was dead. I—" he swallowed hard, his voice cracking further, "I killed him myself, Your Highness."

Florian's chest tightened.

The tremor in Lancelot's voice, the genuine disbelief—it wasn't just fear. It was guilt.

"Then why isn't he dead?" Florian's voice cracked, sharp and desperate. "You said you killed him—so why is he here?"

The outburst shocked them both.

The knights standing nearby froze mid-motion, their helmets turning toward him, startled. Even Lancelot flinched slightly, staring at the young prince as if seeing him for the first time.

Florian didn't even realize he had shouted until he felt his own breath stutter out, chest rising and falling too fast. His hands were shaking.

Why was he reacting like this? Why was his entire body trembling when Heinz—his Heinz—was right there, more powerful than ever, more furious than he had ever seen?

'Heinz is the strongest… Charles shouldn't stand a chance. He shouldn't even be alive.'

He tried to convince himself of that—tried to believe that Heinz's presence alone would end this in seconds.

But something felt off.

Heinz was supposed to be the only one who had returned from death. The only one who had defied it.

And the only one with a dragon.

Then how…

How could Charles have one too?

'Does that mean… Charles is the savior? No, that's impossible. He wanted to bring me to the savior, didn't he? Then—who the hell is it?'

Florian's heart raced as the thought spun in his head.

'Hendrix? Could it be Hendrix?'

It made no sense. Hendrix had been with him this entire time. Unless—

The ground shook.

BOOM!

The sound tore through the hall, drowning out every thought in Florian's mind. Dust and shards of marble rained from the cracked ceiling as both he and Lancelot whipped their heads toward the window.

Outside—

The sky was burning.

Azure and the red dragon clashed midair, wings colliding with enough force to send shockwaves rippling across the palace grounds.

Heinz and Charles—face to face atop their dragons—looked like two gods locked in an ancient war.

Azure roared, his blue flames erupting in a surge of power that illuminated the entire night. The red dragon answered with a guttural screech, its molten breath spilling fire into the sky.

The two dragons unleashed their fury simultaneously.

Two massive orbs of light—one blinding blue, the other molten red—shot from their throats, colliding halfway between them.

The world exploded.

The night turned white for a second, the explosion echoing across the kingdom.

The shockwave hit the palace like a hammer, cracking stone, shattering the rest of the glass, and sending everyone in the hall stumbling back.

Florian's heart leapt to his throat. He threw an arm over his face as debris rained down around them, the heat brushing against his skin.

When he finally dared to look up again, the sky was chaos—fire, light, smoke, and the deafening roars of dragons locked in a battle that looked more divine than mortal.

Florian's pulse quickened. "The princesses…" he said, his voice trembling as the image of their faces flickered in his mind. "Cashew…"

He stepped closer, his eyes wide, desperate. "Are they okay?"

"They are, Your Highness." Lucius said quickly, though his voice shook with the weight of exhaustion.

"I've dispatched guards to take them to the safe room—to take care of them. But the number of nobles…"

He sighed, pressing a gloved hand over his chest as though to steady himself. "And the guests from the other kingdoms… they're panicking. I couldn't get all the knights to stay with them. I—"

He hesitated, guilt flickering across his usually composed face. "…I was trying to stop a fight from breaking out."

Florian's eyes darkened.

"Take me there."

Both Lucius and Lancelot froze.

"What?" they asked in unison, their disbelief cutting through the thunder outside.

Florian took a step closer, his posture rigid, his voice cold and clear despite the tremor that threatened to break it. "You wanted to bring me to a safe place, didn't you?" His gaze shifted between them. "Then take me to the nobles."

Lucius blinked, stunned. "Your Highness—surely you don't mean—"

Lancelot stepped forward, brows furrowed. "We have to bring you to where Cashew and the princesses are. It's His Majesty's order—"

"I'm not saying it twice, Lancelot."

The way Florian said it made both men fall silent.

There was no hesitation in his voice. No crack of fear. Just iron.

Lancelot stared down at him, taken aback by how steady and sharp the young prince's tone had become.

It wasn't the same timid, fragile Florian he was used to protecting—it was someone else entirely. Someone who carried Heinz's authority in his voice without even realizing it.

Florian's glare didn't waver.

His gold jewelry caught the flickering red light from the distant flames, making him look almost otherworldly—his face streaked with soot and tears, yet his eyes burned with purpose.

"I said take me there." Florian repeated, quieter this time—but firmer, more dangerous.