Jean stood by the window, staring into the darkness.

Terrible pain bared its sharp teeth, threatening to devour him. Curses rose to his throat from the extreme agony.

“Take it easy. Before I tear everything out.”

Jean growled lowly through gritted teeth. It sounded threatening, as if speaking to a being sleeping inside him.

A month ago, the fifth dragon scale began to emerge.

It was still breaking through his flesh, causing blood to seep through his white shirt.

It must be an ugly sight.

Dragon scales growing where they should never appear on a human.

When the first dragon scale emerged, Jean tried to remove it while enduring the pain.

But he soon realized that the d*mn scales on his body wouldn’t disappear no matter how much he cut or slashed them with his sword.

Not unless he died.

“Ugh. Haa…”

Jean clenched his fist and groaned through his teeth.

His tightly clenched jaw trembled. Cold sweat broke out on his neck along with a chilling sensation.

Once again, a disgustingly unpleasant feeling surged within him.

In truth, more unbearable than the scales tearing through his flesh and growing like poisonous plants was the predatory urge craving blood.

This instinct, which had been constantly provoking him since he turned twenty, was intense enough to push him to the brink of the abyss.

“D*mn it… h*ll!”

Finally, curses burst from his lips. The sweat on his forehead was cold.

At the age of five, he had been forced by his father, who was obsessed with ancient magic, to swallow a dragon’s heart.

Even after twenty years, he couldn’t forget his father’s expression and eyes as he pushed the bluish lump of blood into his mouth in a state of madness.

‘All because of some astrologer’s words. No, what was that desire for the imperial throne…’

It was a moment that fully revealed his greed—using his child as a sacrifice to realize the forbidden magic he desired.

For young Jean, it was the first betrayal by someone he trusted.

Since it was betrayal by blood relatives whom he had no choice but to trust completely, the wound still filled him with anger to this day.

Yet he couldn’t even utter a word of resentment toward his father.

His father, the Duke of Reushden, had plunged a sword into his own heart immediately after forcing the dragon’s heart into Jean’s mouth.

The pungent smell of blood and the red pool spreading across the floor remained etched on his retina, refusing to fade.

As did the crazed look in his father’s eyes as he smiled at him until the last moment when life left his body.

“Jean, you will become Emperor. The prophesied Emperor who will hold not only Adrian but the entire continent of Taran in your hands. The third prophecy that hasn’t been revealed is that the Emperor Radin spoke of will come from the Reushden family…”

He was only five years old when he heard his father’s curse-like final words that remained unfinished.

Jean lost consciousness at the horrific incident before him, and when he awoke, everything was over.

His father’s body, emptied of life, lay in a coffin.

At first, he thought his father’s s*icide was due to guilt over what he had done to him. So he tried to forgive him.

He wanted to believe that it wasn’t misguided ambition for the throne, but that after pushing the dragon’s heart into his son’s mouth in his obsession with ancient magic, his father had come to his senses in the final moment and regretted his actions.

Jean’s childhood, burdened with such painful memories, was nothing short of h*ll.

He was sharp-edged like a wounded young beast, and crushed by the weight of his secret, unable to trust anyone.

Time passed, and it was bearable until an event that completely shook his life occurred just days before his coming-of-age ceremony.

Following family tradition, Jean, now twenty, was given the key to the secret archives that was passed down only to the eldest son of the family.

Jean opened the door to the secret archives with the key he had inherited through the ceremony, and there he discovered the hidden truth about what had happened to him fifteen years ago.

His father had been a follower of the great prophet Radin.

The Reushden ducal family, blood relatives of Zonderburgh I, was next in line for the throne after the imperial family.

Perhaps that was the problem.

His father seemed convinced that Jean, his son, was the master of the black dragon prophesied by Radin.

Additionally, the lies of an astrologer who came on the day of Jean’s birth and prophesied his future must have added fuel to the fire.

And finally, he committed the terrible atrocity of stabbing his own heart to complete the forbidden magic, breathing life into the black dragon summoned within his son’s body.

Endless thirst and desire for power and the throne had ruined his father.

This was the truth of that day.

When he learned the truth, a bitter laugh escaped him.

Thinking about it, someone who dreamed of treason, blinded by the throne, wouldn’t feel guilt even toward his own son.

His father’s kind smile directed at him had all been pretense.

To his father, a child was merely a tool to complete forbidden magic and fulfill Radin’s garbage prophecy.

A sacrificial lamb for the Reushden ducal family.

‘Is it fortunate that he was selfish to the end? At least I no longer need to forgive him as a father.’

After that day, Jean deadened his heart.

All that remained in him was anger without a target and dark, damp despair that could not be vented.

The newly discovered truth stabbed his heart like a sword, and he mocked himself for trying to forgive his father who had made his life h*ll for fifteen years.

Thus, intense anger and despair consumed him in an instant.

His mind turned completely white, and his heart pounded fiercely.

He wanted to destroy everything.

A terrible desire for destruction and a dark, cruel beast swallowed him whole.

It was the moment when the black dragon that had been sleeping inside him for fifteen years awakened.

He remembered nothing after that.

When he finally regained consciousness, it was the day of his coming-of-age ceremony.

Horrifically, the Reushden ducal mansion was completely stained with blood, and the family sword in his hand seemed to mock him.

The sword that had pierced his father’s heart and drunk the blood of sin now drove him to sl*ughter.

The only consolation was that the sole survivors were Alex, the butler of the Reushden ducal family who had been with him since childhood, and Marian, his maid.

Immediately after, Jean headed to the imperial palace.

He requested to go to the battlefield from Edwin Frederick Zonderburgh VIII, the Emperor of the Adrian Empire and also his cousin.

He doesn’t even remember what expression Emperor Edwin had at that time.

He just stared blankly for a while before nodding.

“Duke of Reushden, no, Jean, my most cherished and trusted brother. But you must win and return. Just as your ancestor, the first Duke of Reushden, did.”

Jean immediately understood the meaning behind Edwin’s words.

It was a moment when the truth he had been unconsciously avoiding became clear, like fog lifting.

His cousin Edwin, who had become Emperor, was wary of him.

D*mn it, it seemed Edwin also believed in the words of that crazy prophet Radin.

He sneered at the bitter reality.

And at that moment, he realized that for 200 years, the Zonderburgh imperial family had always been wary of the Reushden ducal family, which shared the same roots.

That’s why they had constantly pushed the eldest son of the Reushden ducal family to the forefront of the conquest wars.

‘They hoped I would die on the battlefield.’

It was just as well. Jean didn’t care if he died like this.

After all, if the Emperor who was smiling at him found out that he had survived after swallowing a dragon’s heart because of his father, he would surely behead him under the pretext of treason.

Traitor.

The throne was that cruel and cold.

Death didn’t frighten him.

Since his father had abandoned him for his own desires, there would be no one who wished for him to live anyway.

There was nothing to be disappointed about, nothing to be hurt by.

Even blood relatives could become cruel in the face of the poisoned chalice of power.

Even if he didn’t want it, fate would flow differently from his wishes. Just like the woman named Simonetta who appeared before him today.

And just as he had returned alive from the conquest war that seemed endless.

Jean knew the reason he could survive was because of the power of the dragon, a forbidden magic.

During his time on the battlefield, he wasn’t human. He was just a cruel beast hungry for blood and enjoying sl*ughter.

For five years on the battlefield, Jean struggled to control his insatiable desire for blood.

And in the final battle, the war with Gerpion, he finally managed to control the dragon’s power raging within him.

“Ugh, ahh.”