After hearing the story of wolves appearing after wild boars and bears, Melmond had a feeling this moment would come. In front of him sat a bewildered Truyde, wearing an astonished expression, and the new attendant, who frowned deeply. It was his first encounter with Marquis Norhox, who leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, eyes narrowing.
“Explain. Do you have some way to summon wild animals over there?”
Truyde’s voice, though asking a serious question, carried a trace of laughter. That was fortunate. Melmond answered politely, trying to mask his unease.
“Absolutely not.”
He stressed the truth with conviction, but the new attendant interjected with a sarcastic tone.
“Did the curse of the devil latch onto that Regas?”
Melmond shot the new attendant a sharp glance.
“If it’s a curse, then it’s the attendant’s job to break it.”
“What? How dare you—”
The attendant stepped forward, eyes wide with anger, but Truyde raised his hand to stop him. Then he looked at Melmond again.
“So you’re saying it’s a coincidence? That they just happened to run into a wild boar, a bear, and now wolves in the Dragon Forest—each exactly three days apart?”
His voice still sounded amused, but his eyes were cold. Melmond knew well that this young and handsome duke was not to be taken lightly. It was no small feat to consolidate such power right after inheriting his father’s position. His youth meant little.
Melmond braced himself and replied firmly.
“I don’t think it’s a coincidence. But I also don’t believe Abel is the cause.”
“Then you’re saying the prince is?”
“Yes. He is.”
Melmond nodded firmly, and the attendant immediately raised his voice.
“Watch your words! Are you trying to insult the royal family?!”
This time, Truyde didn’t stop the attendant. Instead, he addressed Melmond directly.
“Do you know how dangerous that claim is?”
Melmond swallowed dryly at the chill in his tone. But even under pressure, he responded without hesitation.
“I understand. But before you punish me, please take a look at this.”
Melmond handed Truyde a book he had uncovered after searching the library for several days. It wasn’t an official royal record, but a diary written by someone who had served the royal family.
“This was found in the section I oversee. It says here that King Thearildi VII often brought animals out of the Dragon Forest when he was young. And in this other book—this one’s about King Kapril, the eleventh monarch.”
Melmond opened the second book and pointed to a marked page.
“There’s a similar entry here. And if you look at this one—”
“That’s enough.”
Truyde raised a hand, stopping him. Melmond stepped back, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead from the tension. He /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ didn’t dare wipe them away as he watched Truyde’s reaction.
Truyde began flipping through the books carefully. It took some time, but no one dared interrupt. When he finally looked up, the silence broke.
“You managed to dig this up.”
His tone leaned more toward mockery than praise. Melmond lowered his reddening face slightly. He didn’t mind ridicule, as long as the results held weight. Abel had lasted far longer than expected—stronger than expected—so Melmond couldn’t allow even a moment to be wasted.
If Abel were to give up and walk away, that might be for the best. But as a disciple of Wielder, Melmond couldn’t just abandon him. Only four days remained. If there were no notable changes in the prince, Abel’s opportunity would end in a week.
So even if it was frustrating, Melmond had to do whatever he could.
“All right. Let’s go with your claim—for now—that the cause of these incidents was the prince.”
“Th-Thank you, Your Highness.”
Melmond finally exhaled and bowed. For now, he could let go of the worry that he’d be punished for trying to help Abel. Then, just as things seemed to settle, the Duke asked another question, seemingly offhandedly.
“But it’s strange, isn’t it? He ran into boars, bears, and wolves, and still managed to escape without being caught—while carrying the prince. How do you explain that?”
“Ah, well, I’d attribute it to the training of our sect. Abel’s incredibly strong, with excellent stamina and physical strength. We value physical fitness and train by running up mountains and climbing cliffs barehanded. And, haha, though it’s a little embarrassing, being chased by boars is actually pretty normal for Abel....”
“That’s enough. Let him go.”
Truyde cut off Melmond’s proud rambling with a sigh of irritation. As Melmond left, looking deflated, Norhox’s voice cut through coldly, as if he’d been waiting.
“Pathetic. Those are the Regas? Climbing cliffs for training? Ha.”
He spat the words with disdain. Truyde frowned, turning to face him.
“Duke Truyde. How long do you plan to play this game? Do you really intend to let Abel wander Dragon Forest until he becomes the prince’s official Regas?”
Truyde glanced over, arms still folded, and answered casually.
“Marquis, you seem worried. If Abel becomes the prince’s Regas, you won’t be able to keep playing with the ones that suit your taste.”
“Watch your tongue.”
“Am I wrong? As far as I know, the only thing you do in the Regas Palace is lounge around.”
Norhox’s jaw tightened and his brow twitched, but Truyde remained unfazed. He turned to the attendant.
“There should be private royal records in the palace, right? Look through them. See if these stories hold up, or if similar cases were recorded.”
The attendant glanced down at the books Truyde had presented, then asked cautiously:
“Are you concerned about the prince? Do you think he could be capable—like the kings before him?”
“He should be capable.”
“...”
“It makes sense we never noticed—if his ability is something hidden even from the eyes of the snake. Isn’t that right, Marquis?”
Truyde turned his gaze to Norhox. The marquis responded coolly, unaffected by the earlier jab.
“If we never found it, then how can you say it’s a dragon’s power?”
He curled his lip and looked down at the books Melmond had left.
“The appearance of animals—that’s more the forest’s doing than the prince’s. The forest’s magic reveals itself in ways we don’t always understand. But if you’re so curious, go ahead and keep digging.”
With a smirk, Norhox pushed off the wall and added with a mocking tone:
“By the way, some of the Regas children seem to know the Duke quite well. Odd, isn’t it? They all have blond hair, green eyes, and delicate faces. The Duke should really work on hiding that very specific preference. It’s the same taste His Majesty has. Should his men be taking what belongs to their king?”
On this early morning, the entrance to the forest where Abel and the prince were being escorted was filled with tension like never before. Not only had a wolf appeared a week ago, but just a few days earlier, a snake as long as a grown man had shown up. The problem was that Abel, unaware of the snake trailing him, had casually smiled and waved hello. Since then, the soldiers and Ashler, stationed there, had watched the forest as if it were enemy territory.
Of course, only Abel, completely oblivious, stood cheerfully with a lunchbox and fishing rod in one hand and the prince in the other.
“Sir, I’ll be on my way now. I’ll catch lots of fish and bring them back!”
Ashler wanted to refuse, saying it wasn’t necessary, but Abel was already encouraging the prince.
“Your Highness, let’s catch a really big one to surprise Sir. Hehe―”
Unable to say no in front of the prince, Ashler sighed and gestured toward the forest.
“Just make absolutely sure the prince doesn’t get hurt.”
“Yes! Of course! The forest isn’t dangerous at all, so don’t worry, Sir.”
“You don’t call it dangerous when there are wild boars, bears, wolves, and snakes?”
“Th-that’s...”
Abel faltered, then quickly smiled with false confidence.
“Ah, Abel won’t run into them again. Haha, I doubt wild boars, bears, wolves, or snakes would still live in the forest if we built a village there.”
“If you built a village?”
“...I apologize. I’ll be careful.”
Ashler gave him a final warning, and Abel—knowing he was genuinely concerned—looked up at the sky in thought before speaking again.
“But really, I think it’ll be fine now. We won’t see any more wild boars, bears, wolves, or snakes.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Ashler asked bluntly. Abel answered with a strange smile. His eyes held such calmness that, for a moment, Ashler felt like he was looking at someone else. He said nothing more and simply watched Abel take the prince’s hand and walk forward.
Abel stepped into the fog and gently asked the prince:
“Your Highness, what new things shall we discover today?”
Soon, the two figures disappeared into the mist, but Ashler remained where he was. Strangely, Abel’s words had felt convincing—if only for a moment. But he quickly shook it off. How could anyone know if wild boars, bears, wolves, or snakes were still out there... building a village?
Ashler turned back and watched the soldiers nearby constructing a fence. No one had ordered them to, but they had started instinctively after the wave of animal incidents. Determined, the soldiers were confident: even if all four types of creatures attacked at once, they would not be caught off guard.
And yet, something deep inside Ashler told him that danger would come again—this time, from within the fog.
He gripped his sword and aimed it at the mist. Let anything come. He would cut it down with a single strike. Was his anticipation noticed?
By the time the sun rose high above, Abel’s familiar scream rang out from the fog.
“...Ugh...”
“...Ahhhh...”
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Here it comes!
Ashler and the soldiers quickly drew their swords and rushed forward. As expected, something had shown up again! Their eyes gleamed with determination to take down whatever beast emerged. Ashler, leading them, stepped forward and waited. But the scream grew louder—and somehow different this time.
“Kyaahhhhhhh―!!!!!”
It was shrill and terrified—more panicked than before. Ashler instinctively tightened his grip on his sword. What could be more frightening than a wild boar, bear, or wolf? Could it be a whole swarm this time?
And then, Abel burst through the fog. As always, he was polite—but now his words were desperate.
“Ahhhh! Everyone, run away!”
Not "Move aside"—but run away?
There was no time to question it. Something was behind Abel. And it was making a noise.
“Woooooong—”
Woong?
Everyone looked confused, peering into the fog. Then, black-dotted shapes appeared in the mist. The sound grew louder.
“Woooooong—”
“.......”
A swarm of bees emerged.
The reason Abel didn’t get scolded was simple: he too had been stung all over. If one looked closely, the prince had been completely surrounded by bees—but not a single sting had landed on him.
Even so, the soldiers couldn’t look kindly upon Abel as he prepared to head back into the forest.
Most of them couldn’t even open their eyes properly from the swelling. And yet, Abel—his face red and puffed up—was smiling cheerfully. Somehow, it felt like all this was his fault.
But Abel, the one most stung, was simply in a good mood. The soldiers stared coldly, but Ashler—the one who should have glared the hardest—surprisingly didn’t.
Instead, he offered a warm farewell.
“Please have a fun time.”
“.......”
“I look forward to seeing what the prince catches today.”
Thud.
Abel tightened his grip on the prince’s hand and stepped back. He whispered, concerned.
“You must be hurting from the stings. How about resting today?”
“...Reduce your concerns.”
“Oh! You’re all better now!”
Abel laughed brightly and congratulated him. Ashler, hearing that, reflexively reached for his sword—but stopped himself just in time. He simply pointed toward the forest.
“Enjoy yourselves until sunset.”
“Yes!”
Abel nodded vigorously and beamed. Then, hand in hand, he and the prince vanished once more into the fog.