#037

He looked down at the wrist that had been caught. The white hand, uninjured despite the chaos, was much larger than he had known, easily encompassing Cullen’s wrist. As he became aware of it, the spot where he was held felt hot. To deliberately avoid thinking about it, he looked away again, only to meet Kiyen’s eyes.

“Why did you refuse the command?”

Kiyen asked, as if he couldn’t understand.

“Didn’t you make a contract with me for this? To take revenge with the power you can wield?”

Kiyen’s brow furrowed, as if it were strange that Cullen would do otherwise. From Kiyen’s question, Cullen felt the weight of the cruelty Kiyen had repeatedly endured.

Kiyen had lived as a tool for far too long.

“No.”

Something overwhelming filled his chest. Was it frustration? No, it was something sadder than that.

Yes.

It was sadness.

“In the short time I’ve known you, that’s the kind of person you are. You show no mercy even in your hands and are quick to draw your sword.”

Kiyen had grasped the essence of it well. Cullen would do anything for revenge. But the deal with Kiyen was not based on that. It was like that even when he knew nothing about him.

“I requested a transaction because you are not human.”

The aspects of Kiyen he had gradually come to know had moved Cullen.

His dislike for human greed rather than human life, the way he mourned while burying a small bird, the way he smiled upon receiving mere names—these were purer than any humans Cullen had ever seen.

“What’s the difference?”

“It means I did it not because of your power, but because I believed you were trustworthy, unlike humans. Of course, your knowledge is undoubtedly useful above all else. That’s all.”

What Cullen wanted was not power.

“I want to take revenge with my own strength. If that’s possible. Kiyen, I have no intention of making you do such a thing.”

Cullen did not want to use Kiyen like the Imperial Family did. He simply needed at least one trustworthy person in that vast palace. Despite having lived alone for so long, Cullen had finally found someone. That someone was a Dragon.

Cullen scoffed at himself. While there were many other reasons that moved him, he had to admit it now. He trusted Kiyen. A little, certainly.

He had broken the vow he made never to keep anyone close to him again. He, who couldn’t bear loss and couldn’t endure grief, had broken the rules he had set for himself.

Because Kiyen was different.

Kiyen was a Dragon. Cullen had witnessed his immortality. Someone against whom no force was effective. A being who spoke of Immortality with his own lips.

Therefore, Kiyen would not die before Cullen’s eyes.

That was what made Cullen soft.

“I don’t believe you.”

Kiyen’s words pierced through Cullen’s softening resolve with terrifying intensity. Even though Kiyen himself would have no reason to care.

“Yes, don’t believe me. I am human.”

He answered calmly, and Kiyen closed his mouth. His downward gaze seemed angry yet confused. He whispered in a lowered voice.

“You are more vexing than the capricious twilight rose. You bristle with thorns one moment, and then act like this the next.”

“It is my nature.”

“I have never met a human as unpredictable as you. You are the most so among humans.”

“You are too, Kiyen.”

“I am not human, so it’s fine.”

As they exchanged words, the tense atmosphere between them slowly softened. To break the subtle silence, Cullen hesitated for a moment and asked something he had been wondering about.

“Then why did you wake me up in that manner, Kiyen?”

His golden eyelashes lifted. Kiyen, his face hiding his confusion, maintained his usual calm expression.

“It’s easier to calm you down that way. My experience tells me so.”

He was about to deny it, but then he remembered the moment Kiyen had given him water with his lips and his own state earlier. Kiyen had pinpointed something Cullen himself hadn’t realized. A sense of bewilderment washed over him.

“Still… the two of them were watching.”

Also… he seemed a little disappointed. He didn’t know why.

“Next time, I will wake you with a slap.”

Cullen frowned slightly. That wasn’t the answer he had wanted. Now Cullen was the one who was confused. Technically, a slap would be better, but he just didn’t like that.

“What I mean is… a kiss is usually not… done between people like us. Especially not in front of someone.”

“Isn’t that a human custom? It has nothing to do with me. If that’s the case, then our intercourse also wouldn’t apply. Humans call that an act of sharing love, don’t they?”

“That’s…”

Kiyen was sometimes infuriatingly good with words. He was speechless.

“Isn’t it because of the curse?”

“If so, it’s no different from a kiss. Both acts are merely means to an end.”

The word “means” lingered in his ears. Cullen’s lips moved slightly for a moment, but he couldn’t find a reply. It was true. It was a means.

“We must go. We’ve wasted enough time.”

Cullen glanced up at his face, then pulled his wrist free and started walking ahead. Kiyen followed without stopping him.

The sun was setting. Gazing at the sight of the horizon spreading with a purple hue, he said.

“Thank you for saving me.”

Kiyen did not reply. Cullen started to turn back, but then closed his mouth and continued walking. The chirping of insects, unheard for two days, could be faintly heard from somewhere.

Like others, Arne also had a childhood where he slept while listening to the story of the hero who founded the Empire. There was a time when he admired the symbol of the righteous Larsiel, who saved the people suffering under a tyrant and made a Dragon his ally.

Fairy tales speak of the brave, and bards sing praises of knights who uphold justice and loyalty. Arne naturally believed he would become such a person. The good and evil the world spoke of were clear, and he thought it easy to walk the righteous path.

However, as time passed, the reality he faced was not like that.

Those who spoke up bravely always met an unfortunate end. Commoners cannot be righteous. Legitimate demands are dismissed as complaints, and resistance becomes a symbol of rebellion.

Courage has a qualification. Only those who possess the qualification of power can bear courage.

It was incredibly difficult to do what his heart deemed natural. He was afraid to take a step, to open his mouth, to prepare to sacrifice his life. His life was too precious, so he turned away from Martin.

But would a life gained this way have any meaning?

Arne slowly opened the temple doors. The children, huddled in a corner waiting for the adults, poked their heads out one by one. Marie, who was guarding the front, smiled the moment she saw Arne’s face. Her guarded expression melted away.

“Priest!”

Her curly red hair, resembling Martin’s, fluttered. Her eyes beneath her tanned forehead, where stray hairs curled round, widened into a smile.

“Welcome back! We were waiting!”

The moment he heard her bright voice filled with trust, Arne broke down. It was because the weight of Martin on his back was too heavy.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Who’s on your back…”

Marie, who had rushed over with surprised eyes, stopped abruptly. The child’s face, which had instantly turned worried, slowly began to harden.

“…Oppa?”

Arne bit his lip hard. He swallowed back the sobs that wracked his body. At Marie’s call, the hidden children ran out.

“Oh, is that Martin?”

“Martin, it’s been a while!”

Seeing the children, who knew nothing, approach, Arne stepped back. Marie, whose face had hardened as she looked at Martin’s face, suddenly turned her head and shouted.

“Don’t come any closer!”

The running children flinched in surprise and hesitated.

“…Go away, go away, go away!”

Marie hit Arne and pushed him relentlessly. Arne staggered, regaining his balance as he backed away. Lasano, who had been following him, grabbed Arne.

“I-I’m sorry.”

Apologizing to Lasano, Arne pulled away. Retreating from Marie, who was pushing him away, he exhaled a hot, moist breath.

“Why are you acting like this, Oppa?”

Marie, who had run out after closing the door, shrieked. Tears filled the child’s distorted green eyes.

“You said he’d be alive! You did! Liar!”

He had said such things.

So many people got hurt in the mines that Arne was always called. It was natural, given the number of patients compared to the number of priests. Therefore, it was inevitable that Arne would eventually find Martin.

Martin was held captive in a newly established mine in another village. The child who had been missing for over half a year was there. Even though his once vibrant face and smile were gone, Arne recognized Martin at a glance.

Arne told Marie and her family, who searched for Martin without rest, “I will find him. He will be alive.”

Even after seeing him alive, Arne ran away.

He returned without bringing the child. He couldn’t tell the truth to his family, who were desperately searching for their son. It was obvious what would happen to them if they went there. To save multiple lives, Arne swallowed the truth down. For a full three weeks.

In his youthful recklessness, the ghosts of dozens of people who died due to his rashness urged him to keep silent.

But in the end, all of this was just an excuse. Arne should have at least tried to save Martin.

“Where were you, my Oppa?”

Marie asked, tears streaming down her face. Looking into her venomous eyes, Arne swallowed back his own rising tears.

“…I found him at the new mine…”

Marie bit her lip hard and asked again.

“Did you know?”

Children sometimes find the truth without being told.

“Did you know he was there?”

So he couldn’t run away anymore.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

Arne faced the moment he had tried to escape through death.

“…Yes.”

A terrible silence fell. Marie stood straight, glaring up at the man who was much taller than her. After several minutes of silence, Marie spoke.

“Put my Oppa down.”

“Marie, I’m sorry. I… I’m sorry.”

He barely managed to suppress the excuses that tried to spill out. Marie paid no attention to his choked apology. She simply said quietly.

“Don’t touch my Oppa. If anyone else, fine, but not you, Priest.”

He fell silent. Arne took a trembling breath and slowly set Martin down. Marie, who had walked over with heavy steps, glared at Arne. Silhouetted against the now completely dark sky, the girl burned with fury.

“Never appear before us again. You’re not a priest. How can someone like you protect us?”

“…Marie, at least let me stay until we go down the mountain. After that…”

“No! We’ll go down by ourselves, even if we die.”

Marie shielded Martin. As Arne hovered around her, afraid the corpse might attack at any moment, he opened and closed his mouth endlessly. He met Lasano’s gaze, which seemed to judge his ugly side. Shame and embarrassment washed over him.

How pathetic and hideous this is.

Arne opened his mouth nonetheless. Having already fallen to the bottom, there was nothing left to be ashamed of.

“Could you… take Marie inside? She’s outside the barrier, so it’s dangerous.”

Lasano stared at Arne for a long time with his red eyes, then nodded.

“Alright.”

Lasano, his face devoid of the smile he wore when he was with Cullen and Kiyen, added one more thing.

“Unlike you, these children have no sin.”

His calm voice cut through Arne’s heart like a blade. Watching Lasano approach Marie, Arne looked at the ground.

The High Priest was right.

He was no different from Pellar Exion. Perhaps even worse. Now that he had brought Martin home, Arne had only one thing left to do.

He would kill Pellar Exion and die.

That was the least he could do to apologize to Marie’s family.