And the fact that there was a cub meant—its parents had to be nearby.
“Keshu, put that down and come to me.”
“But it really likes me!”
Squeak.
The baby Luxo—shaped like a mole with small horns sprouting from its head—let out a soft cry.
“Luxos are generally gentle creatures. But once their young are threatened, it’s a different story.”
“Keshu, that’s not just an animal—it’s a monster. Put it down, right now—”
She gave up on reasoning and was just about to pry the creature away herself when—
Thud.
A tremor rippled through the cave from deeper inside, followed by a roar that made the walls shake.
“KIEEEEAAAH!”
What on earth does something have to eat to go from a squeak to KIEEEEAAAH!?
“Jeryl! We have to get out—now!”
The thunderous footsteps of the enraged Luxo drew closer. Jeryl grabbed Keshu in her arms and ran, trying to pry off the cub clinging to the boy, but—
Squeak.
It whimpered as if begging not to be separated, clutching even tighter.
“Don’t cry! You think you’re the one who wants to cry right now?”
There was no choice but to run with both of them. The parent monster was coming fast!
She could hear its pounding steps right behind them.
There was no time to wonder why a Luxo, said to have left these caves, was here—or why there was only one when they always came in pairs.
She sprinted toward the light at the cave’s mouth, but a chill raced up her spine.
“Jeryl!”
She ducked instinctively—just in time for a massive horn to stab through the space her head had been a second ago.
Spinning around, she saw Ian leap off the cave wall, his blade slicing across the monster’s shoulder.
“KIIIEEEEAAH!”
But it only made things worse. The wounded Luxo went berserk, slamming its body into the walls.
“Get out first! The cave’s going to collapse!”
And then—Jeryl saw it.
In the gash Ian’s blade had carved into the Luxo’s gray hide… blue blotches were spreading beneath the skin.
“Jeryl!”
Her thoughts froze. That split second of shock cost her—she couldn’t dodge the monster’s whipping tail.
“Ah.”
Seeing it coming straight for her, she twisted around and shielded Keshu with her body.
Thud.
The world spun. Then, impact—her body slammed into the ground. Agonizing pain ripped through her side.
“Ugh…”
She rolled across the dirt. A few seconds later, she heard a distant shout—probably Ian’s voice.
“Teacher! Are you okay!?”
She forced her heavy eyelids open at the sound of the small voice in her arms. But instead of the child’s face, she saw—the cave ceiling collapsing.
“What a day…”
Looking up at the falling stones, she wrapped herself in layers of healing magic and squeezed her eyes shut.
If she healed instantly, maybe she wouldn’t die—!
The massive rocks came crashing down.
[logout]
A faint light flared by Jeryl’s head.
At that same moment—
in the Duke of Leppert’s mansion.
The butler, who had served in this rumor-shrouded house for ten years, sighed from deep in his core.
“I told him—if you’re going to kill someone, do it on the marble, not the carpet…”
Blood stains never came out easily. The head maid was going to scold him again.
Meanwhile, Caron—unusually—wasn’t using his revolver this time. He was fighting the assassin with a sword.
“If you’re going to attempt an assassination, at least pick a day when His Grace isn’t already in a foul mood…”
When Caron’s mood was decent and his madness quiet, he granted assassins a painless death.
But when his temper and insanity flared—he made sure they felt it.
This assassin, for instance, was still alive—barely.
“Why so quiet? Go on, keep talking. I’ll listen.”
Caron wiped blood from his cheek with his gloved hand, his tone almost indulgent.
But what the assassin had just said had dragged his mood straight to the bottom.
Watching, the butler thought:
If it were me, I’d keep my mouth shut and die quietly.
—But the assassin apparently thought otherwise.
“Heh… you remember, don’t you? The chamberlain’s son—the one you killed when you were ten!”
Ah. There he goes.
The butler silently offered a prayer for the man’s soul. Of all things, to mention the chamberlain.
“The boy who tried to avenge his father and got executed for attempting regicide.”
“So?”
Caron crooked a finger toward the butler.
It meant: Hand me the revolver.
The silver gun, wrapped neatly in silk, was placed in his palm.
Even now, his actions were calm—terrifyingly so.
“That boy was my friend!”
“My condolences.”
“All royals are filth! What he said before the guillotine fell—it was all true! The roy—”
“The royals of this country are all irredeemable garbage. They all deserve to die.”
The assassin froze. Caron’s crimson eyes lowered, expression weary.
“Yes. No one knows that better than I do.”
“Then die! For everyone else’s sake—just die!”
“You don’t need to beg. I intend to.”
Click.
The revolver’s hammer fell into place.
The gunshot split the air.
The famed carpet of the Eastern Alliance turned crimson.
“Find out who sent him.”
Caron tossed his black gloves into a puddle, his gesture almost elegant.
“Dispose of the body. Then come to my office. And…”
He pressed a hand to his temple and took a sharp breath. The butler recognized the sign immediately—his madness was flaring up again.
It had been worsening lately. Fortunately, it hadn’t yet crossed into full-blown frenzy.
【The chamberlain?】
【You mean the one who cared for you when you were locked away in the detached palace?】
Caron’s steps halted.
The childlike voice cackled.
【Ah, right! That was your first kill, wasn’t it?】
The shrill laughter scraped across his nerves.
A piercing ring filled his ears; pain split his skull apart.
“Your Grace!”
His brain felt torn into a thousand pieces, then stitched back together in agony.
He should’ve been used to it by now—but no, this horror was never something you could get used to.
[Then die! For everyone else’s sake!]
[You don’t need to beg. I intend to.]
Yes.
He intended to.
He had intended to…
【Don’t die! Stay with me—let’s keep playing!】
【If you stay alive, I’ll make it spectacular!】
I’ll blow your head off!
Caron gasped, bending forward. The veins in his neck bulged, flushed dark red beneath his collar.
“Your Grace…”
Silence lingered for a long time.
The butler was just about to summon a healer—any healer—when he heard slow, stubborn footsteps again.
Caron was heading back—to his office.
Three hours later.
The middle-aged butler quietly studied his master, who was back to processing paperwork with an eerily calm expression.
Even after that torment, Caron moved mechanically. The man was—simply put—mad.
What could possibly ease his mood…?
Then the butler remembered something that had been sitting untouched for weeks.
Lady Rubian’s letter!
Now that he thought about it—Caron’s madness had first started to wane after meeting that Lady Rubian. His moods had been better then, too.
Following that instinct, the butler broached the topic:
“Your Grace, should I open the letter from Lady Rubian that arrived two weeks ag—”
“Get out.”
He was thrown out immediately. But he didn’t feel offended.
Standing outside the office, the butler blinked his wrinkled eyes.
Had he imagined what he’d just seen?
That expression…
The red eyes blinking slowly, the twitch of his lips, the misaligned signature on the papers—
It was the same expression the young Caron used to make—when he didn’t yet know how to hide his fear.
Which only made it harder to understand.
Was… His Grace actually afraid of Lady Rubian?
Inside the office, after the butler left—
Caron dropped his fountain pen, ink spilling across the desk.
“Haa…”
The heat of his madness cooled slowly, leaving his head icy and clear.
Ever since hearing the name—Rubian.
