Finally, the long-awaited morning arrived—Abel was about to enter the palace as a Regas. lmond went to pick him up, and when he saw Abel, he imdiately noticed the worried expression on his face. Unable to rush him, lmond paused for a mont, his eyes catching sothing unusual. A small, round wooden plaque protruded from Abel's luggage.
It wasn’t fully visible, but the wooden pendant—smaller than the palm of his hand—had a dragon figure carved into it. A leather strap was attached to the end. lmond recognized it imdiately: it was an heirloom of their sect, passed down from the past master to the new sect leader. With Abel now possessing it, he must be the new master. As lmond’s realization hit him, the death of Wiedel ca to mind.
“Are you worried?”
Well, why wouldn’t Abel be worried? Though he wasn’t the one going as the prince’s Regas, lmond had spent sleepless nights, tossing and turning. The sudden encounter with the Duke, the master’s death, Abel becoming the prince’s Regas—everything had happened so quickly that it was hard to process. If lmond felt this overwheld, how was Abel coping? He placed a reassuring hand on Abel’s shoulder and spoke in a gentler tone than usual.
“It’s okay. Everything will be fine. Stay positive.”
“Will it really?”
“Yes.”
lmond nodded fervently, and Abel finally smiled.
“Yes, I’ll believe that too. By the way, I left the mushrooms in the warehouse. I didn’t expect to leave the house empty for so long. They won’t rot, will they?”
“Of course! The mushrooms... will rot... mushrooms?”
“Haha, yes! The mushrooms? Maybe they’ll still be fine when we get back. I’ll try to stay positive. If not, we can just pick new ones, right?”
“...True. We can just pick new ones.”
“Exactly!”
“Yeah, your neck.” [T/N: lmond jokingly taps Abel’s neck.]
“Ahh! gulp! lmond, why, why are you doing this... gulp!”
“You, you little... Who told you to be so annoyingly positive and get all worked up!”
****
Is it possible for rumors to be truer than the truth? According to Ashler’s experience, it had never happened. Rumors always exaggerated and distorted. But a few days ago, he had seen the prince, the subject of all those rumors, and realized that nothing could compare to the reality.
That’s why no one could remain close to the prince, not even a Regas. Even the attendants were too afraid to approach him. A child who would beco king? Could such a child really rule? The only comfort Ashler could find was that, at the very least, the prince was not a fool. His entire day was spent reading books, but Ashler suspected he might not even understand what he was reading—he could be flipping through pages of books he couldn't decipher. Ashler cursed the captain of the guard for sending him here. A good opportunity? If the prince kept spiraling into madness, he would probably die from it in a few years.
So, Ashler had no expectations for the new Regas. No matter how special they were, a Regas was nothing more than a puppet to the king. They were only there to dance, indulge in debauchery, and laugh.
That’s why, when he went to greet the new Regas, Ashler expected to see the beautiful man he had heard so much about. But instead, to his surprise, a bandit-like figure—a ruffian—appeared, laughing and greeting him.
“I heard from the chief. You must be the knight who will guide .”
Ashler looked around after passing the laughing bandit.
“Why are you alone?”
“Yes? Is it not allowed to co alone?”
The bandit-like man looked around nervously, clearly startled. Ashler, suppressing his irritation, asked again.
“Where did you leave the Regas?”
Hesitantly, just as Ashler was about to speak again, the bandit answered.
“I’m here.”
“What?”
“Regas.”
“...Damn it.”
Ashler, who had never lost his composure even in countless sword fights, barely managed to suppress his curse. This? This was the new Regas? He didn’t even react to Ashler’s dumbfounded expression. The only thing that kept echoing in Ashler’s mind were the words of the captain of the guard—this was too special, even for sothing special.
The palace where the prince resided was in the furthest corner of the royal palace. It took a long ti to walk there, to the point that Ashler’s legs ached. But the distance wasn’t the issue. The first thing Abel felt upon entering the place was the heaviness in the air.
The small palace where the prince stayed seed peaceful, as though hidden behind a curtain. It was a place devoid of life. There were people, of course—the soldiers who guarded the prince and the palace. But their faces were anxious and fearful, their silence deafening.
“The maid will guide you to your quarters. Is there anything else you need?”
Upon hearing Ashler’s question, Abel looked around the interior of the palace before lowering his head. A maid stood in front of him, observing him oddly. Abel quickly responded to Ashler.
“I’d like to et the prince first.”
But Ashler, who was eye-level with him, simply stared at him in silence. Abel, feeling like he had done sothing wrong, subtly shrugged.
“Um, can I not et him yet?”
“Speak, Lord Regas.”
“Oh, yes.”
“....”
“Um, well...”
“Of course, you can et the prince first. However, wouldn’t it be better to hear a pre-explanation about the prince before eting him?”
“No, it’s fine.”
Abel’s bright smile seed almost pitiful to Ashler. He must have arrived here without knowing a thing. He would likely leave within a day or, at most, three. Ashler didn’t mind if Abel gave up quickly.
After all, he was only here as a bodyguard during this Regas. If Abel left soon, Ashler could return to his previous position. There was no reason to refuse if he wanted to et the mad prince. Ashler gestured to the maid and glanced toward the corridor on the left.
“Shall we et him now?”
Abel eagerly nodded, then turned his head toward the corridor Ashler had indicated—a long hallway with no one guarding it.
“Yes, I want to et him quickly.”
****
Should I have followed him?
lmond, anxiously waiting like a child Abel had abandoned, felt torn. Even if the human didn’t want him there, damn it.
“I’m looking forward to it. How well will the librarian’s apprentice lead the prince?”
The new attendant had been mocking lmond all morning. Though he held his tongue, it only deepened his anxiety for Abel. He had roughly told Abel what he had heard about the prince, but Abel just laughed it off, saying, “Ah, co on, really?”
That foolish guy better not et the prince and run away without doing anything.
“But surely he won’t run away on the first day, right? Hey, librarian. Isn’t that right?”
lmond had the sa concerns, but hearing it from the new attendant’s mouth made it seem even more ridiculous.
“Yes. Is he really going to run away on the first day? Of course, there are plenty of Regas chosen by the new attendants who ran away on their first day.”
Surprisingly, the attendant’s face twisted at this unexpected response. lmond ignored it, taking a sip of tea as if nothing had happened.
Please, let him survive the first day.
****
Creak.
The large black door opened, but Abel couldn’t see inside right away. It was bright outside, but dark inside. All the windows were blocked, and only a few candlesticks illuminated the room. The scene lit by the tiny flas looked desolate for a prince’s room.
The interior had clearly been cleaned so ti ago but was now dirty, with dark stains on the floor and walls. But what hit Abel first as he entered was the sll. It was a sickening, pungent odor—an unmistakable scent of blood. It seed to be a mix of both fresh and old blood.
“All the servants are too scared to go inside. That’s why the place is a ss.”
Abel recalled Ashler’s explanation before he opened the door. He cautiously stepped inside, and his gaze fixed on one spot. One of the few candles illuminated a book spread out on the floor. At the end of the book, a small hand gripped it. Abel’s eyes lingered on sothing connected to the wrist of the small hand.
Ashler’s second explanation proved to be true.
“By the way, the prince is currently chained up to prevent him from going wild.”
Tap, tap.
Abel entered and slowly approached the prince. He stopped a little distance away, knelt, and lowered himself. As he moved closer, the prince’s figure beca clearer in the dim light.
A small child, who barely resembled a prince. Long hair covered his face in a tangled ss, his clothes filthy. The unbearable stench of unwashed skin filled the air.
Abel realized the stains on the prince’s clothes and the room itself were bloodstains. The carpet he knelt on was also soaked in dark blood. Perhaps the blood was not from another Regas. Abel opened his mouth.
“Hello, Prince. I am your new Regas, Abel, who will be by your side from now on.”
After a mont, the prince responded. The clink of chains echoed as the small hand moved to grab Abel’s knee. Abel felt a sharp pain in his knee, realizing that a piece of broken glass clutched in the child’s hand had cut through his flesh.
It was silent. Ashler stood at the door, but no screams or cries could be heard. If he had co closer to the prince, he would have seen the blood. Were the bandits patient? They had entered boldly and demanded their way, perhaps even embarrassed to show tears.
Ashler stepped away from the tightly closed door. Well, it wouldn’t last long, and they’d co out soon. Leaning against the nearby wall, he waited. Upon hearing that the prince had been chained, the bandit had looked utterly shocked.
He probably couldn’t speak at first, his mouth hanging open. In fact, when Ashler had heard the story, he too had frowned. Chains for an 8-year-old? But there were rumors circulating.
“He’s a devil. You can tell just by looking at his eyes.”
Ashler already knew about the prince’s eyes. Snake eyes, they called them. Just creepy, nothing more. But when he had accidentally looked into the prince’s eyes, a cold shiver ran down his spine.
Ashler had held a sword since his youth. He’d faced death many tis, narrowly avoiding a blade to his heart or throat. The chill of those monts had beco familiar, and he thought there was nothing that could surprise him anymore.
But when he looked into the prince’s eyes, he couldn’t move. Those eyes—strangely, they didn’t fear him anymore when he looked the second ti.
Yet, the fear from the first glance hadn’t been a trick. He didn’t fully understand what happened, but it didn’t matter what the people called him. A devil, they said? It was hard to believe. Maybe it was more accurate to say that the legendary dragon had reappeared.
But it would be impossible to elevate the na of the sacred dragon for a «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» prince obsessed with blood. If the prince continued like this, it wouldn’t be long before the country was filled with rumors, branding him a devil. However, if he recovered, he would be revered as the incarnation of the dragon.
Was this the opportunity the captain had spoken of? It was hard to believe that such a bandit-like man was a Regas. Ashler continued to watch the door.
The bandit was shocked upon hearing the prince was chained. He demanded:
“Please give the key.”
At that mont, the bandit’s eyes were so resolute that Ashler, surprised, handed over the key. If he freed the prince, the child would likely rush out, covered in even more blood. Ashler didn’t warn him—he knew that waiting a little longer would bring the inevitable.
And as he expected, a few minutes later, the door opened, and the bandit appeared. Bloodied, with cuts on his legs, arms, and face, the bandit was a ss.
But he wasn’t alone.
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