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Chapter 13
“Squirrel, isn’t it fragrant?”
“Chuut….”
Ahhh, so good.
Another day of my luxurious routine—soaking in a half-body bath filled with the finest rosewater from West Busan.
But then—
“What, what the—aaaghhh!”
The peace was shattered when Gerard, who had been sitting at the table reading a weekly magazine, suddenly let out a scream.
“Gerard, quiet! Lord Squirrel is recuperating so his bald patch can regrow, and what are you doing making a racket?!”
Leah hurled an empty rosewater bottle at him, scolding him. But her twin brother couldn’t tear his eyes away from the paper.
“Chuut.”
What in the world could be making such a fuss?
Wearing the custom robe crafted by Black Dragon Castle’s head tailor, I padded over to Gerard.
“My goodness… even your footprints are adorable.”
Leah blushed at the sight of the wet pawprints I left on the table, but I was used to that reaction by now.
Pitter-patter.
When I stepped closer, I saw the weekly magazine spread open.
And when I looked—
“Chu-chuuut?!!”
I couldn’t help but flinch in shock just like Gerard.
Because right in the middle of the magazine was a giant sketch of none other than Kenig’s face.
It was more like a composite sketch drawn from witness testimony, but without a doubt, it was Kenig Kreutz.
That obsidian hair. Those golden eyes glowing like melted sunlight.
The drawing didn’t quite capture his real presence, but there was only one person on the continent who could look like that.
[The Truth of the Case Finally Revealed?]
My eyes darted quickly beneath the sensational headline.
In short, the article was about the infamous “Noble Family Serial Murder Case” that had long terrified the Empire.
The crime scene was the Barons’ Viscounty.
A poor land with no special products or tourist spots, yet both the ruling Baron family and most of their subjects had been wiped out.
‘And they’re saying the culprit is the one in this sketch?’
I couldn’t help but scoff.
Sure, there had been plenty of noble families wiped out overnight by mysterious attackers—like the Barons or the Aimond Marquessate.
Factional strife had intensified as the Empire’s political fortunes waned over the years.
In other words—
‘The incompetent imperial family could collapse any day, so the nobles were secretly hoarding resources.’
Most of the victims had been venerable but weak “herbivore beastkin” houses.
Weak in strength, rich in assets.
Each noble family collapse would briefly make a splash, then mysteriously fade away.
And soon after, the mansions and mines went on auction for dirt cheap, gobbled up by other nobles.
Clearly, there was a shadowy group profiting from such tragedies.
But why would House Kreutz, richer than the imperial family itself, attack such a paltry place?
It made no sense.
“Chuut.”
I shook my head.
But Gerard’s expression was grave.
“A week ago, you say?”
He muttered anxiously, rubbing his face with a pale hand.
Well, no wonder—the crime scene, Barons’ Viscounty, was on the border of the northern lands controlled by House Kreutz.
‘Right by Bear Mountain, too….’
Wait—why did this feel so familiar?
The photo of an arrow printed in the paper… looked strangely familiar.
‘Where have I seen that before…?’
I narrowed my eyes, studying it closely.
And then it hit me.
It was the same kind of arrow Kenig had crudely yanked out when I’d found him collapsed and wounded in Bear Mountain.
‘And the timing matches perfectly!’
A week ago—that was exactly when I discovered him bleeding out on the mountain.
His black uniform had been drenched with blood, but not all of it had been his.
Even the greatsword beside him had been marked with heavy battle.
‘So… putting all this together….’
Could it be that the suspect in this grotesque mass murder case… was closer than I thought?
‘What…?’
My mind reeled, and a chill crept down my back.
Kenig Kreutz, from what I’d seen of him so far, would never do such a thing.
But doubts crept in regardless.
Because House Kreutz had long suffered from “the frenzy.”
Their nearly infinite mana was both a blessing and curse of the Black Dragon Clan.
If not released, the mana built up in the body until it exploded violently.
The dragonfolk called this seizure the “frenzy.”
Once it began, it consumed everything nearby, only ending when the sufferer had burned through all their mana and stamina.
‘Could it be that Kenig snapped during a frenzy?’
Even so, harming innocent commoners was unforgivable.
‘Did I really get mixed up with a truly insane guy?’
And after I’d even taken care of him, too!
Just as I gnawed my nails in despair alongside Gerard, who looked equally stricken—
The dragon arrives when you speak of it. Noise erupted outside.
The synchronized march of guards’ boots echoed, and the heavy doors slowly swung open.
The suspect—or rather, Kenig—entered.
“Duke!”
Gerard, who had been clutching his head like me, shot up from his chair.
His trembling hand crushed the newspaper he was holding.
“Ah.”
Kenig glanced at Gerard, then at the paper in his hand, and sighed softly.
As if realizing something he had completely forgotten.
“That was unlike you, my lord. To leave behind evidence.”
Gerard trailed him insistently, questioning like an interrogator as Kenig sank into the sofa.
‘Wait, what? The problem was that evidence was left behind?’
Figures. Only a Black Dragon retainer would be wired so strangely.
I stared at the two beastkin in bewilderment.
“I needed to set an example.”
Kenig exhaled irritably, leaning back against the sofa.
His face was lined with fatigue—perhaps from working since dawn.
“An example? No, but more importantly, you don’t look well. Is your condition worsening again? Even the physician was worried after your last short excursion.”
Gerard, who had served him since childhood, instantly sensed his state.
“It’s nothing. Just a light headache.”
“Shall I call the physician?”
“No, rather…”
Kenig pressed his brow, then his gaze fell to the table.
More precisely—to me, who was inching backward.
He seemed lost in thought for a while, then reached out a hand.
It was clear: he wanted me to climb into his palm.
‘…W-why?’
I flinched, though I hadn’t meant to.
Even if he acted normal, who knew when he might snap?
When I recoiled in fear, Kenig gave a hollow laugh and withdrew his hand.
The look on his face was like someone betrayed by the person they trusted most.
Were we ever that close?
We’d grown somewhat familiar recently, yes, but at best we were “partners in cooperation.”
At least for me.
But for Kenig… perhaps not.
His usually cold eyes now twisted as if wounded.
“Traitor.”
“Chuuu…?”
What?
That face—so sorrowful it hurt to look at—made me feel like the guilty one.
‘Have I been misunderstanding him all along?’
He’d said he wanted to “set an example,” but hadn’t claimed the atrocities himself.
So was I wrong? Did I misjudge him?!
But my guilt lasted only a moment.
“Gerard, what of that taxidermist I told you to find?”
“Chut?!”
This dragon bastard?!
He still hadn’t given up on stuffing me?!
The tiresome threats began again.
I looked pleadingly at Gerard for help, but he was Black Dragon Castle’s number one sycophant.
“Taxidermist, sir? Oh, right! Yes, I’m currently seeking out the best one in the north.”
He hesitated briefly, then smoothly fell in line with Kenig’s words.
Even adding, “I’ve also found a shop that sells accessories to decorate the mount, just in case.”
“Well done, for once.”
Kenig licked his lips in satisfaction as he looked at me.
Honestly… the two of them were the perfect conman duo.
“Chuuuuut.”
Damn these reptilian bastards!
