HRMF 17

Chapter 17

How to Replace Your Dad

When Colonel Ragoni arrived after hearing the commotion and saw the barracks split in half, he reportedly nearly fainted.
They say that when he saw the princes with their swords drawn, he clutched the back of his neck.

That’s what I heard later — from his subordinates, who had escaped from the colonel’s wrath, now hypersensitive with stress.

The aides and I sat in a row in the makeshift kitchen, shoulders drooping, sighing at our miserable fates.

“I swear, the moment I saw that barrack split in two, I thought, maybe it’s time to retire…”

“Didn’t you say your house loan still has a long way to go? You should think about your kids’ tuition. Retirement’s for single guys like me.”

“No, I’ll do it.”

“Maybe I should be the one to retire…”

That last line was mine.

“Do you even have anywhere to retire to?”

“…Just wishful thinking.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

The soldiers and I looked up at the sky with mournful eyes.

At least, it was a relief that the Second Prince, Luciano, was far stronger than the Fifth Prince, Gaspar.

Knowing he couldn’t win, Gaspar eventually backed down.

Thanks to that, the “mad” Fourth Prince, Ain, survived without incident.

‘Wait—madness? Why is he supposed to be mad?’

There was no mention of that in the game.

The Second and Fifth Princes, who weren’t even supposed to appear, showed up—and the Fourth Prince, who was supposed to appear, suddenly has madness?

‘What on earth is going on?’

I needed to gather information. Maybe I should ask Colonel Ragoni.

But judging from his expression, he didn’t seem to know either.

I was lost in thought when—

“A servant from Prince Luciano’s palace. I’ve come to escort Lady Eustea.”

…Ah. The Grim Reaper had arrived.

My aides glanced between me and the servant’s emotionless face, then wordlessly stood and stepped aside.

No, fled.

They were showing the true essence of survival in social life — never get entangled in a high noble’s business.

The servant stood silently, waiting.

“….”

With a tragic look, I followed behind him.

The Second Prince’s quarters were located in the deepest part of the barracks.

The servant stopped outside and left me there, probably to announce my arrival and discuss something confidential.

I stood awkwardly, staring at the large old tree that separated the prince’s tent from the others.

More precisely, I was staring at the ornament hanging from one of its branches — a talisman-like sword charm.

“A magical tool to catch intruders, huh…” I muttered without thinking.

Just then, Luciano’s voice came from behind me.

“You recognize a magical device that crossed from the Eastern Continent just three days ago?”

Apparently, he’d heard me as he stepped out of his tent.

I gave an awkward laugh.

‘Of course I know. I used it often in the game to keep invaders out of my camp.’

It was an extremely high-level item you could only obtain late in the game, so the fact that he already had one was impressive.

As expected of the man called the First Prince’s greatest rival.

Luciano strode closer.

I instinctively took a step back with a stiff smile.

“There’s no need to retreat like that. I don’t plan to eat you.”

“When you’ve sinned, sometimes it’s instinct to retreat…”

“So you admit guilt.”

“I’m truly sorry about that…”

“Then tell me.”

“…Pardon?”

“About that magical tool.”

I hesitated, then looked again at the charm hanging on the branch.

“Captor Thread”
An artifact of the Eastern Imperial Family.
Captures intruders unauthorized by its owner.

“It’s called a Captor Thread. A relic kept by the Eastern Imperial family. Looks like it hasn’t been activated yet, though.”

“….”

Luciano stared at me.

‘Why is he looking at me like that?’

I stammered under his gaze.

“Um… the thread’s blue, see? It turns purple when activated.”

“Lady Andress, even after being disowned, your intelligence network remains impressive.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Yes. We did steal it from the Eastern Empire, but couldn’t figure out how to use it.”

“Oh.”

“So? The exact method?”

“You tie a part of the caster’s body — like a drop of blood or a strand of hair — to the thread. Then it captures anyone who doesn’t possess the caster’s essence.”

The servant listening beside us looked startled.

Luciano’s expression barely changed, but his gaze grew more intent. Then, with a small smirk, he asked:

“Then I suppose you also know about the Tracking Orb?”

At that, I recalled what Gaspar had said inside Ain’s tent:

“So where the hell is that damned Tracking Orb, brother?”

‘So Luciano’s also after it.’

Sure enough, he added:

“I know the orb is in Ain’s hands. But the ancient text describing it was lost — I don’t even know what it looks like or how to use it.”

“….”

“But you seem to know.”

“….”

“Would you find it and bring it to me?”

There was no point lying — he’d see right through it.

I glanced around for an escape route.

“I mean, I do know, but I really don’t want to get involved in the princes’ conflicts anymore. Like I said, I’m just a dust-covered potato now…”

Please, spare me.

Without the Andress family’s protection, getting caught in their feud would crush me like a shrimp between whales.

Luciano stepped closer.

“Isn’t this your chance to settle our grudge?”

“I’d prefer a less risky method…”

“I’ll make sure Gaspar can’t lay a finger on you while you’re in the North. And I’ll add 1,000 gold.”

“…!”

He’d suppress Gaspar — the biggest obstacle to meeting Duke Esgarot — and pay 1,000 gold?

‘Just what does he want the orb for…?’

While I stood frozen, Luciano turned as if to leave.

“Well, if you’re not interested, that’s fine.”

“Wait—! Plus a place to stay!”

“….”

“…Is that too much?”

He chuckled.

“Accepted.”

“Thank you very much.”

I bowed quickly.

In that moment, the enemy became an ally.

That Night

Since dinner had been ruined thanks to Gaspar, I prepared a late-night snack instead and went to Ain’s tent.

Outside, his attendants were pacing nervously, faces pale.

When I approached with the tray, they flinched and stared.

“What’s going on?”

“I brought His Highness’s supper.”

“Go back.”

So Ain had declared he wouldn’t eat?

‘That’s… not good.’

“I prepared something he especially liked from the palace kitchens. It’s been three days since his last meal — Colonel Ragoni is terribly worried.”

One servant waved me off irritably.

“His Highness is extremely irritable. Especially after Prince Gaspar stepped on the snake…”

“The snake?”

“Yes. His Highness’s cherished pet.”

Another servant sighed heavily.

“If that snake dies, there’ll be hell to pay. Should we call a veterinarian?”

“Where would we find one? Especially in the middle of the night.”

Indeed, veterinarians were rare in this world — even towns often didn’t have one.

“I can take a look.”

“…You can handle snakes?”

“Yes. I used to work at a wildlife care center.”

Including snakes.

Their eyes lit up.

“Why didn’t you say so sooner? You’re a godsend!”

“Come in, quickly!”

“Your Highness! We’ve found someone who can help the snake!”

Their hospitality changed dramatically — night and day difference.

Thanks to that, I entered Ain’s tent.

The prince, crouched beside an iron cage, quickly stood when he saw me.

He was strikingly beautiful — caramel-colored hair and serene green eyes, like a painting.

But my gaze went straight to the snake.

‘That’s not a snake… that’s a python.’

It was huge — far too big to be simply “stepped on.”

Had Gaspar kicked it instead?

Ain’s eyes widened.

“You can save Yebbi?”

…Yebbi? That’s the snake’s name?

The contrast between its ferocious appearance and cute name threw me off for a second, but I answered:

“I’ve never treated one this large, but if you’ll allow me, I’ll try.”

“Okay!”

He smiled brightly and stepped aside.

I crouched and examined the limp Yebbi. It was sluggish indeed.

Ain watched with anxious eyes.

“Gaspar stepped on Yebbi and crushed her.”

Crushed? At that size?

It would take a bear, not a man, to crush something that thick.

“Poor delicate thing…” he murmured.

Delicate? With fangs like that?

‘Wait… those are predator fangs! Don’t tell me—’

“Yebbi’s a Death Servant, isn’t she? A monster.”

“Yebbi’s my friend.”

His expression hardened, clearly displeased at the word monster.

Still, he began talking about her lovingly.

“When I walk in, she opens her mouth wide to greet me. She’s smart — she knows I like greetings, so she always does it.”

I stayed silent.

…Death Servants open their mouths wide to measure prey.

“When I’m sad, she looks sad, too. Sometimes she thrashes around in anger for me.”

…That’s aggression before a strike.

No way could I open that cage.

From a safe distance, I examined Yebbi’s scales — noticing small red patches.

“Aha.”

Ain immediately leaned closer.

“You can heal Yebbi?”

“No.”

His gentle eyes instantly turned sharp.

“Then you’re useless.”

Even his voice dropped a pitch. The servants froze in terror.

That wasn’t shock — it was fear.

I instinctively knew then: beneath that sweet face was something far darker.

Before that darkness reached me, I hurriedly said,

“Yebbi doesn’t need healing. That’s why I can’t heal her.”

“…She’s not hurt?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“She’s in mating season.”

The whole tent seemed to freeze.

I blinked, looking between the silent prince and his servants.

“Mating. The breeding period.”

“…I know what that means.”

Good, that saved me an explanation.

“Yebbi’s female, right? Female Death Servants store up energy during mating season, so they move very little. You just need to find her a male.”

One servant coughed awkwardly.

“Death Servants are rare. Finding a male will be difficult.”

“In this region, they actually appear more often during this season. And I know how to track them.”

Ain’s eyes sparkled again.

“You can find Yebbi a mate?”

“Yes, but…”

A thought flashed through my mind — a way to use this to my advantage.

“For that, I’ll need her old shed skin. The scent can attract males. Do you still have it?”

Of course not. No one in the palace would keep a monster’s molt.

“No… Mother hates Yebbi. She wouldn’t let me keep it.”

“Then maybe I can help her shed gently, without hurting her?”

“Would you? I’ll reward you — with a topaz the color of her eyes.”

“No need for payment. But how about this — could you eat a little dinner instead?”

The servants’ eyes widened.

The prince had recently stopped eating, claiming someone was trying to poison him.

So this was good news for them, too.

They all looked at him expectantly.

Ain hesitated.

“The one helping Yebbi must be a good person. A good person wouldn’t poison me, right?”

“Of course not, Your Highness,” one said eagerly. “A good person would never do that.”

“Never, never,” another chimed in.

Ain nodded.

“Good. Then make sure Yebbi gets better.”

The servants placed my tray beside him.

He lifted the dome lid — it was beef stew, his favorite.

He took one bite—

“…!”

His eyes widened as he stared at the bowl.

Beef stew.

Honestly, it’s one of my specialties.

The Next Day, Noon

The kitchen was quiet — all the cooks and helpers were at lunch.

Yawning, I rubbed my eyes.

‘Woke up at dawn again… I’m exhausted.’

Last night, Ain had eaten very well.

Then he’d even asked for breakfast with shining eyes.

When Ragoni heard that, he practically danced a samba.

After all, if anything happened to the prince, he’d be held responsible — the man must’ve been under immense stress.

The soldiers and attendants even tried to toss me in the air in celebration — I barely escaped.

Other cooks tried slipping in their dishes, but Ain refused them all and insisted on mine.

So now, I’m in charge of every one of his meals.

I pulled a bowl from the counter drawer to soak the beef.

But inside was a small folded note.

‘Huh?’

I opened it — the writing looked like messy scribbles, but I recognized it.

It was a cipher — the same one used in battle logs I’d once stolen from Luciano’s aides.

[3 o’clock. Food storage.]

‘So he knew I’d stolen those logs, huh.’

Which meant those logs might’ve been fake to begin with — bait for me to steal.

Good thing I’d been expelled from my family before I could ever use them.

Chills ran down my spine.

‘He’s terrifying…’

Still, it was nearly 3 o’clock — I couldn’t waste time.

I snuck to the food storage.

As expected, Luciano was there, leaning casually against a pile of flour sacks.

“I heard you’ve won Ain’s favor — with your cooking and your… uncanny skill at skinning scales.”

He was right.

I’d managed to gently peel Yebbi’s scales last night and handed them to the attendants, who were now running around the fields looking for a male Death Servant.

‘I am good at skinning, to be fair.’

It’s a skill that got me praise at work.

And I’d planned it perfectly — feeding Ain while working on Yebbi meant I could visit his tent regularly.

So far, success. I’d already been there three times since last night.

Luciano asked,

“So, what have you learned?”

“Nothing much.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Seriously, it’s nothing big. Just that Prince Ain isn’t actually mad…”

I said that glumly, and Luciano froze.

“…What?”

“…?”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Ain… isn’t insane?”

“Right. He’s just really good at acting.”

“….”

He stared at me, dumbfounded.

“That’s what you call ‘nothing much’?”