Chapter 1. In the Night Forest, There’s a Boy

—

It was a night that had swallowed the moon.

A boy ran frantically through the dark forest.

Ignoring his shoes that were getting wet, he stepped in puddles and leaped over stumps, nearly falling several times.

His ragged breath puffed into the night sky.

“Haa, haa.”

As his breath caught in his throat, the boy stopped, leaning against a tree. A strange pattern on the back of his hand began to writhe.

Hastily pulling down his sleeve while scanning his surroundings, the boy hurried on.

But soon his knees buckled from the pain squeezing his heart.

No one must find out. I must get rid of it without anyone knowing.

“Urgh!”

With the throbbing, burning sensation, the boy rolled up his left sleeve again. The pattern had already spread to his forearm.

A bizarre shape like raging flames.

Unfortunately, it was familiar to the boy.

He couldn’t mistake it. It was the pattern of the Heath clan, his family’s long-standing enemy.

They were barbarians said to have demon blood flowing in their veins, the price for selling their souls to darkness.

The boy’s face twisted horribly.

“Why is this happening to me……”

Spewing something between a sob and a laugh, the boy struck the tree with his anguished fist.

He wanted to peel off the skin where the pattern had appeared. He was terrified of turning into a monster.

As the dull thuds continued, the tree bark became soaked in dark red.

“Hnngh!”

Hugging the tree with his bloodied hands, the boy swallowed his sorrow.

Who was he? The sole heir to House Bernac, a great military family of the Grencia Empire.

Tears? He had never shed such trivial things, nor experienced anything that would warrant them.

Why me! For what reason! Why on earth!

Just a few hours ago, the boy had been the center of attention at a banquet attended by the most prominent figures in the Grencia Empire.

Even the beautiful Imperial Princess, whom he would marry someday, was present at the birthday celebration.

From the grand second-floor balcony, the boy looked down at the nobles. His father, Duke Philip Bernac, whispered sweetly.

“Nigel Bernac, do you feel the power of your name? One day, they will bow their heads to you and lick your feet like dogs. So remember this. You must embrace them moderately, manipulate them moderately, and trample them moderately. Our mercy must be elegant. Our persuasion must be dignified, and our retaliation must be merciless. That is the Bernac blood flowing through you and me.”

The boy clenched his fist, recalling his father’s words.

That’s who I was. One who wielded power, who pursued, who bestowed, and who reigned.

How did I end up in such a miserable state?

It wasn’t me who wanted to grab the br*asts of the woman dancing the waltz. It wasn’t me who was shocked to see the pattern on the back of my hand when sudden pain struck.

It certainly wasn’t me who felt nauseous at the sight of reddened eyes reflected in the mirror.

It shouldn’t have been.

My brilliant destiny couldn’t have thrown me into the night forest with just a cloak. That wasn’t my lot.

With a pale face, the boy quickened his pace. Overgrown branches and rough leaves scratched his cheeks.

His forearm, where the pattern was spreading, throbbed, and the scent of iron rose in his throat. As his cloak slipped, the Bernac lion embroidered in gold thread was buried in the mud.

When he was drenched in cold sweat, the boy reached the lakeside. Suddenly, a foul mass rose up.

“Urgh!”

As soon as he opened his mouth, blood clots poured out. Then, pain that felt like it would tear his limbs apart hit him, and his knees buckled.

His breathing became terrifyingly rapid. It felt as if his flesh and blood vessels were twisting and his bones were being crushed. His eyes, as if blood vessels had burst, turned even redder.

The boy buried his face in the dirt and hugged himself. His nails, grown long like a beast’s, dug into his skin.

In the end, it came to this.

The filthy blood I so desperately wanted to deny was flowing in me after all…….

Shuddering in despair, the boy thought of his father. Duke Philip Bernac, a nobleman whose influence was great enough to threaten the Emperor.

Even Duke Bernac, who had seized military power in the empire and married the woman he loved, had his misfortunes.

Repeated miscarriages. His wife desperately cried out that she would no longer bear children for the sake of the family.

With no other choice, the Duke took a mistress, but the tragedy did not end.

Then one year, as the Duke returned from years of great battles with the Heath Kingdom, he held a newborn in his arms. Nigel Bernac, the noble bloodline to inherit House Bernac.

Some said the Duke had been bewitched by a Heath witch and had a child with her.

And others whispered that the heartless Duke must have killed the witch after obtaining a child.

And yet others cursed that when the child came of age, the demon blood he inherited from his mother would boil and reveal his true nature.

But all of them had their heads cut off by the Duke, making the truth unknowable. Regrettably.

“Heh……”

A bitter laugh escaped.

Enduring the pain, Nigel Bernac grasped the weeds.

These were not the hands of a knight who drew bows and wielded swords. They were those of a monster, engraved with vile patterns and grown with hideous nails.

Whenever he heard rumors about his birth, he vowed.

That if such a day came, he would take his own life without hesitation. That he would not live in such a wretched state.

He hated the thought of living on, wearing the skin of a monster, receiving disgusting pity and revulsion, more than death.

Nigel erased his expression and raised his upper body. His turbid breath scattered in the air.

He drew a dagger from the scabbard at his waist. Then, holding the sword with both hands, he pointed the blade towards his heart.

Only then did sorrowful tears well up.

He was young. Too immature to either invite death or endure misfortune.

He hadn’t even had a chance to unfold his ambitions. Right before him, within reach, there had been such a dazzling future.

The jaw muscles clenching his molars bulged. His reddened eyes blurred, and tears flowed from the corners.

Nigel plunged the raised knife into his chest with all his might. The metal piercing through flesh and between bones was chillingly cold.

Such a futile end.

Watching the surroundings blur with tears, Nigel closed his eyes. He felt warm blood soaking his chest. He was sad, resentful, and terribly lonely.

Would the demon blood fade as life ebbed away?

It would be nice if he could die as the young master of Bernac…….

The boy closed his eyes and slowly collapsed.

How much time had passed?

Through his fading vision, Nigel saw legs in trousers and boots. He heard someone speaking, but couldn’t understand. He felt nothing but darkness and cold.

The intruder came closer and embraced his cooling body. It was warm. Ridiculously so, considering he had wished for death.

“Young master? Young Master Bernac, please come to your senses!”

Nigel’s brow furrowed.

This person……, knows who I am!

They might have seen traces of the monster. I must eliminate them!

Though he felt like he was about to black out, Nigel struggled to look at the other person.

But all he saw was short curly hair revealing the nape and freckles on the bridge of the nose. That was all.

Their facial features were blurry due to his unfocused vision.

“Oh no! Please wake up! You mustn’t faint!”

Nigel’s limp fingers twitched. Having lost so much blood, he couldn’t muster any strength at all.

“Young master! Ah……, Young Master Bernac! No! Please wake up! I’ll save you! I’ve never saved anyone before, but I’ll try my best.”

You lowly thing, don’t touch me carelessly. This is not something for the likes of you to meddle with. Get lost, he said.

He must end this person’s life.

As Nigel tried with all his might to raise his hand, his lips were suddenly stolen.

“Huh!”

Nigel’s eyes flew open. Soft skin rubbed against his, and a slippery tongue touched him moistly. Then, a scent he had never encountered before washed over him.

Just as Nigel was about to shudder and push the other person away.

The lip-thief swiftly pulled out the dagger lodged in his chest. Blood spurted up.

“……Urgh!”

“Please bear with it for a moment. You’ll be alright.”

The intruder gazed, as if entranced, at Nigel’s handsome face spattered with blood. Then, pressing on the wound, they pressed their lips against his again.

Amazingly, the blood that had been soaking his clothes stopped flowing.

The gaping wound began to heal, and the pattern that had spread to his chest rapidly disappeared.

That wasn’t all.

Green sprouts emerged from the dirt where they sat. The grass grew in an instant, forming tiny flower buds.

While the healing that brought forth life and purified the tainted blood continued, the nameless flowers burst into bloom.

As the pain subsided and Nigel barely regained his strength, he grabbed the intruder’s collar.

“You……, who are you!”

“I am, my name is……”

The suspicious intruder with a small frame mumbled, but due to the sudden onset of drowsiness, Nigel couldn’t make out what was said.

He struggled with all his might to grab the intruder’s hat.

With bright red short curly hair and trembling small lips, Nigel desperately tried to stay awake but unfortunately, soon fell into a deep sleep.

* * *