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Chapter 6
Dufon Clancher, Killian Knox’s proud right-hand man and one of the seven executives, tilted his head.
Something was off.
It felt like he had been in the middle of saying that finding Helena Morton was an unbearable task.
Had he perhaps, without realizing it, said something like “finding Morton is a piece of cake”?
He had been on an all-nighter for ten straight days now, so it wouldn’t be surprising if his mind had started to malfunction.
No, even so… there was no way he would have said something like that.
A cold voice cut through his dazed thoughts.
“Dufon.”
“Yes?”
“Find her. Bring her to me.”
Ah. So I hadn’t said anything wrong.
It simply didn’t matter to him.
What Dufon believed was ten days had already crossed into the eleventh night without sleep, and even his famously meticulous mind was starting to crack.
“I would like to find her, of course. But we truly cannot trace her whereabouts. Whether she vanished into the ground or ascended into the sky, there’s no trail. We’re certain she reached the border village, but after that, nothing.”
“So the Knox executive is more incompetent than Helena Morton. That’s quite a long way to say it.”
“But—”
“You talk too much.”
Dufon immediately shut his mouth.
He still valued his tongue.
Afraid of even meeting Killian’s eyes, he lowered his head and began running through every possible method to locate Helena Morton.
And then, his sleep-deprived brain finally betrayed him.
“Ah, come to think of it, Cain might be in that area. If you allow it, I could have Cain track him and conduct further investigation into Helena Morton…”
…Oops.
Dufon Clancher snapped his mouth shut again.
Why did he bring up Cain’s name?
For the first time, he was genuinely worried about the safety of his tongue.
Cain Degrave.
Captain of the elite Imperial Guard unit and the shadow who protected Killian most closely.
But the world knew him by another name.
Killian Knox’s hunting dog.
All of Knox’s executives were loyal to Killian—but Cain was different.
A man who would cut his own throat without hesitation if Killian ordered it.
And yet, he had left behind a short letter and gone to the Croline Kingdom.
It was an event no one had expected.
As expected, Killian’s previously softened expression turned cold.
There had still been no correspondence to His Excellency.
That bastard Cain… has he gone insane?
Even within Knox, Cain was the strongest swordsman after Killian himself, so he likely wasn’t dead.
No—perhaps it would be better if he had died and never returned.
“There must be a valid reason Cain crossed the border. He isn’t the kind to leave your side so easily—”
“That would be best.”
Killian cut him off with an odd tone.
Then he rose from his seat.
Water, scented faintly with a sharp fragrance, rippled and spilled over the edge of the bathtub.
Dufon stepped back just in time and handed him a robe.
Killian draped it loosely over himself and left the bathroom.
The mansion had already fallen silent, its many agents having vanished without a trace.
His wet footsteps echoed through the corridor.
Step. Step.
He made no effort to hide the sound.
The footsteps descended downward—deeper and deeper—until they reached the stairs leading to the underground prison.
“Y-Your Excellency!”
The guards at the entrance flinched at the sudden appearance of the Duke of Knox, but Dufon’s gesture from behind stopped them.
Open the door quietly.
Clang—!
The iron gate opened.
Killian walked inside at an unhurried pace.
Step. Step.
His footsteps, deliberately unhidden, made the prisoners who had been groaning all day fall silent.
After walking for a while, he finally stopped in front of a cell.
Inside was a man who had smuggled spies into Knox for money.
“Ugh… ugh…”
The man crawled backward, unable to even scream properly, until he hit the stone wall.
Realizing he had nowhere left to run, his terrified eyes darted to the iron bars instead.
As if the cage that had imprisoned him might somehow protect him.
That hope did not last.
Crack.
The lock broke apart with a hollow sound as Killian touched it.
“Hh—huh…”
Pure terror spread across the prisoner’s face.
Killian stared at him expressionlessly and stepped inside the cell.
Dufon remained outside the bars.
Hands behind his back, he watched the scene and thought:
So it’s almost eclipse time.
So that’s why His Excellency was using his own hands.
He clicked his tongue, disappointed in his own failure to notice sooner.
Killian Knox’s Dragon Eye was proof of draconic blood.
Occasionally, Knox bloodlines were born with golden dragon eyes—but none had ever reached adulthood safely.
A human body was too fragile to contain draconic power.
But Killian Knox had survived.
No one knew how.
And at some point, Killian had learned to wield the dragon’s power at will.
But that control was incomplete.
Sometimes, the draconic blood would consume him.
When that happened, the sleeping instincts of the dragon would awaken—making Killian more violent, bloodthirsty, and cruel.
Only a very small number of close aides knew of this period.
They called it “Eclipse.”
Like the moon—symbol of the Knox Duke—being swallowed by darkness.
And it seemed that time was approaching again.
Crunch—!
Killian tore off one of the prisoner’s limbs and tossed it onto the prison floor.
“Dufon.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“Find Helena Morton.”
Even now?
Dufon inwardly pitied the woman whose whereabouts were still unknown.
“As you command.”
Satisfied with the loyal reply, Killian turned and left the prison.
Step. Step.
Walking through the underground corridor stained with red, he suddenly noticed the thick scent of blood soaking into his body.
It reminded him of the sharp fragrance from the bathtub earlier.
Cheap floral scents could never erase the smell of blood.
If anything, they only made it worse.
Killian recalled a small, vaguely forgettable operative who had chosen a bottle of Gelthus among countless perfumes.
“There are too many rats in the mansion.”
On his way to the forest lake to cool his boiling bloodlust, Killian thought for a long time about those “rats.”
The night after the disturbance.
I was on my way to the outpost again.
But I kept laughing for no reason.
“Ah, what a nice day.”
After that unfortunate encounter with Killian Knox last night—
I had panicked half to death.
He was someone I had only ever known through rumors and intelligence reports.
But meeting the real man made of flesh and blood was something entirely different.
If I hadn’t been careful, I might have unconsciously released killing intent even while disguised.
“Phew…”
Even thinking about it again gave me chills.
But once I calmed down a bit, another thought came to me.
It was scary… but I’m still alive, aren’t I?
I checked my neck.
Still there. Still attached.
We made eye contact like that, and he didn’t do anything.
If he had realized I was someone in disguise, I wouldn’t still be alive.
At the very least, I should have been dragged to the dungeon.
Interrogated. Tortured. The whole process.
But I was fine.
The only thing Killian Knox said after looking me in the eyes was:
“Release the fragrance oil.”
That was it.
So another thought naturally followed.
Maybe even Killian Knox didn’t notice anything strange about me.
It made sense.
He was famous for detecting spies and traitors like a ghost.
But I’m neither, right?
So his legendary “dragon eyes” were useless against me.
My disguise was perfect, my position secure.
No reason to fear being exposed.
In other words…
I was invincible now.
“Heh.”
I was already smiling as the checkpoint came into view.
“Something feels good about today.”
Maybe fewer visitors would come.
Or maybe the kitchen would send snacks.
The maids sometimes brought sweets.
Come to think of it, it had been a while since they last visited.
Maybe today was the day.
Lost in pleasant thoughts, I arrived at the outpost.
And then I saw him.
A man stepping down from a carriage and walking toward the checkpoint building.
More precisely—his walk.
Step. step—step.
To an ordinary person, it would be unnoticeable, but his gait was slightly uneven.
A sharp instinct, one that had been dormant in my peaceful life in Knox, forcibly awakened.
And it felt disgusting.
“…Good omen my ass.”
