Chapter 39
The servant recognized the boy and his eyes went wide. At the sight of his twisted expression, it felt as though the blood in the boy’s veins ran cold.
His mother’s final words flared up in his mind, burning hot along with a sudden, violent impulse, as if they had been branded there.
Trample them beneath your feet. Without hesitation. By any means necessary.
“Good heavens! Y-you… you are—”
“The prince bled because of me, so—”
“You mustn’t associate with that, young lady! At once, I’ll inform Lord Raban—”
“What did you just say?”
As the servant babbled in panic, anger flared in Hill’s green eyes. Only moments ago she had been sniffling, yet now she scolded him with the unmistakable gaze of a noble.
“That? Are you saying that about the prince?”
“M-my lady, that one is—”
“Even if he resides in the Eighth Palace, he carries the blood of the great king. ‘That thing,’ ‘that one’—what unbelievable rudeness is this?”
A natural authority radiated from the girl’s small frame. The servant faltered, unable to answer at once, because what she said was not wrong.
“So that’s why the prince is always shut away alone in a tiny room. I had no idea the lower servants were this lawless. Does His Majesty even know about this?”
Faced with young Hill’s sharp rebuke, the servant finally backed down, stammering apologies and bowing deeply. Watching the scene in silence, Alman reached out and took the girl’s hand.
“That’s enough, Hill.”
“We can’t just let it go, Prince. We should tell His Majesty—”
“I am fine. I will handle what comes after. Please, calm yourself.”
Hill, still bristling, met the prince’s steady gaze. After a long moment, she let out a deep sigh and nodded.
A brief silence settled. Alman looked from the fidgeting servant to the pouting girl and spoke.
“It would be best for you to return now.”
Hill clearly wasn’t satisfied, but she didn’t insist on staying. She shot the servant a sharp look and added,
“Make sure you tell His Majesty and see that he’s punished. Understood?”
“Don’t worry, Hill. You remember what we promised before, don’t you?”
“Yes. Of course. I’ll keep it a secret.”
Smiling, the boy patted her head. Hill nodded, her mood slightly improved, and turned to leave, saying they would meet again.
She kept glancing back as she walked away, until at last she moved completely out of his range of perception. Only after confirming that no one else was nearby did Alman speak in a low voice.
“Ramtuman.”
“……!”
Hearing his own name spoken from the boy’s mouth, the servant flinched. Alman didn’t even look at him as he continued.
“You saw something you should not have.”
In the next instant, an invisible force twisted around the man’s neck. He tried desperately to resist, but couldn’t last even a second before his neck bent at an unnatural angle.
“Ghk—kck—!”
“Killing you outright like this wouldn’t be a bad choice either, but…”
As the boy moved his fingers, Ramtuman’s mouth was forced open.
“Perhaps it would be better to tear out that insolent tongue first.”
To obtain what one desires, hesitate at nothing. Be ruthless.
What he had once understood only in the abstract crystallized, in that moment, into lived truth.
The boy snapped his fingers lightly. Power, responding to his will, yanked hard. No scream followed.He severed even the sound itself. As casually as pulling weeds, he tore the man’s tongue free.
At the sight of blood spilling out, something inside him boiled over. The giant’s nature he hadn’t even realized he’d been suppressing rejoiced and surged. His breathing grew rough. Alman struggled fiercely to rein it in.
No. Don’t get too excited. You already made one mistake today.
It still wasn’t time. He had to crouch lower still. Repeating his mother’s last words, he tried to force his heart to calm.
Calm down. Be composed. Kill him quickly and be done with it. Twist his neck—
…Before that, just once more—would that really be so bad?
Just once. Only once. It’s the first time, after all. So just once more, right?
The violence flowing through his veins whispered like a serpent. Excitement and impulse churned like molten lava. It was unfamiliar and intoxicating.
In the end, the boy yielded to instinct.
Just once. Only once…
With a racing heart, he reached out and drew his fingers downward. The force following his motion raked across the servant’s abdomen.
Hidden flesh split beneath the clothes with a tearing sound. The man’s eyes rolled back. The sharp scent of fresh blood filled the air, and from the torn wound—
“…Al… man?”
At that moment, a thin, fragile voice poured over his fevered mind like cold water.
His spine went rigid at the sound of a familiar voice that should not have been there. The boy, who had been gazing in rapture at the blood and torn flesh, turned around in a panic.
A few steps away, the girl stood frozen, her face drained of all color, one hand clamped over her mouth.
For an instant, his mind went completely blank. He couldn’t speak. The sight of her green eyes filling with tears wrapped his entire body in a crushing sense of ruin and despair.
Hill took a slow step backward. One step. Two. Then three.
The girl who had once approached him took those three steps away instead. Then turned and ran, fleeing with all her strength, as fast as she could.
A belated cry burst from the boy’s mouth as he reached out toward the girl.
“Hill——!!”
The scream, desperate to the point of agony, seemed to catch at her ankles—but after a brief hesitation, Hill ran even harder.
That was the end of it.
The girl disappeared completely, without looking back even once.
The boy, who had clung to the hope that she might return, let his shoulders sag helplessly when her presence finally slipped beyond the range of his senses.
Hill had fled.
Hill. Hillstein.
The young girl who had been the only one to reach out to him first, to smile at him.
Countless emotions twisted violently inside him—tangled, crushed together. His mind reeled into chaos. Dizzy, he pressed a hand to his forehead.
Hill. My Hill. The brightest girl in the world.
Where that brilliance had been, only darkness remained. Pitch-black despair crawled up to his feet. It felt as though his insides were turning over. The boy barely managed to suppress the urge to retch as he muttered incoherently,
It can’t end like this. It can’t.
You were the only one on my side in the whole world.
Hill had been the only friend who reached out a hand into a life that knew nothing but crouching and hiding.
My ally.
My light.
My master.
My… world.
I didn’t need anything else. You alone were enough.
And yet you ran away. You turned your back on me.
…That won’t do.
Do you have any idea how much I love you?
I never asked you to. You were the one who came to me on your own, who reached out your hand first. And now you run away from me just because you saw me kill someone?
No. That’s not acceptable. I have no intention of letting you go.
Emotions burst forth like a broken dam, surging in dark waves. In the midst of it, his mother’s final words stood out like a signpost. His warped, blind feelings rushed headlong in that direction. As the boy stared lifelessly at the floor, a poisonous smile bloomed at the corner of his lips.
That’s right. I’ll take what I want.
No matter the cost.
His mother’s voice—telling him to seize the highest place without regard for means or method—sounded sweet as honey. Smiling brightly, the boy twisted the still-twitching servant’s neck with a single, decisive motion.
I’ll bring you back.
What would be the best way to make sure you never run away again?
There was no need to think long. The answer came easily.
Yes—engraving fresh despair into you every time you try to flee would be best.
By destroying, one by one, the things you hold dear.
If you despair, and despair again, and despair once more, then someday you’ll stop running altogether.
Isn’t that right, Hillstein?
How beautiful it would be—your world, finally broken of even the will to escape, submitting at last.
It was a vision so cruel it was intoxicating. The boy smiled languidly, like a satiated beast, steeped in overwhelming fulfillment.
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