Tamed Monster - Chapter 130

There was only one reason the Emperor kept more than a dozen crows in a secluded corner of the imperial palace’s rear garden.

‘Creatures that do not fear monsters.’

Strangely, crows did not fear monsters. Every other living creature that had existed in nature since ancient times instinctively loathed and shunned monsters as unnatural beings born of artificial curses. And yet crows, though clearly natural creatures themselves, did not treat monsters with hostility.

On the contrary, they coexisted with them. A few even lived within the infamous Blavat Swamp.

Intrigued by this anomaly, the Emperor, driven by relentless curiosity and a scholar’s obsession, kept crows nearby for research purposes. Much as he collected living monsters or their corpses. Lately, however, even that hobby had begun to bore him.

He had been considering gathering the useless things together and roasting them whole with salt.

But if he were to lend one of them to his younger brother—now a grand duke—wouldn’t it look as though he were handing a useless toy to a half-wit and mocking him for sport?

The Emperor hesitated. He could neither refuse outright nor nod readily in agreement. After a long pause, Lancart asked again with disarming brightness.

“If you’ll allow me to fetch one myself, I’ll return the gemstone mine you granted me last time.”

It was a mine the Emperor had bestowed alongside the grand ducal title. He had originally considered giving him two, but since Lancart had declined, the Emperor had gladly handed over just one. To relinquish it now meant giving up something significant. The annual profits alone rivaled the revenue of an entire territory.

And so, the Emperor struck a surprisingly advantageous bargain: one crow in exchange for a gemstone mine.

Even after waving his hand in assent, he felt uneasy. He couldn’t help but ask what on earth his brother intended to do with such a worthless bird.

“To repay a friend.”

As expected, the answer made no sense at all. The Emperor gave up trying to discern the madman’s intentions.

Claiming he was too busy to accompany him, he sent the Grand Duke alone to the palace’s rear garden.

Already feeling half accomplished, Kuinan strode confidently across the grounds and stopped before a massive birdcage, dressed impeccably in his formal attire.

The crows cawed loudly, almost as if greeting him.

Though he wore a human face, he was not human, and animals other than humans tended to recognize that instinctively. Crows, in particular, were more accustomed than most to the presence of monsters.

“Shh.”

He raised a finger to his lips, then passed the crows and moved deeper into the garden. In less than ten minutes, he located the concealed entrance.

It was where the Emperor kept living monsters and their corpses.

For months, Kuinan had smelled the scent of monsters lingering in the air here. He had long since moved from suspicion to certainty. Countless resentful remains of his kind were buried within this torture chamber.

Hoping to find at least one relatively fresh corpse, he grasped the heavy iron door—solid as a slab of lead—and lifted it easily with one hand. No lock was necessary. No human could possibly lift it alone.

Without hesitation, Kuinan slipped inside.

Thud—

As the massive door slammed shut with a dull boom, the crows outside erupted into louder cries, flapping wildly within their cage as though about to break free.

* * *

The Emperor was exceedingly pleased with the severed arm of the head monster Kuinan had brought. He stored it in his private villa.

Now, he had to figure out how to swap that arm with the one he currently held.

For Kuinan, this was not entirely impulsive behavior.

‘At least I came in here with a plan for how to get another arm. That counts as planning, doesn’t it?’

Praising himself, Kuinan walked down the corridor and noticed a fellow monster who was not yet dead.

The creature was so mangled, so limp and barely breathing, that Kuinan had almost nudged it aside with his foot like any other corpse.

“…Krr—.”

Its eyes, bleached pale by torture and stripped of reason, glinted faintly as it lifted its head from the floor to stare at him—mistaking him, for a moment, as human.

Then recognition dawned.

Its eyes widened, but the burned and swollen lids made even that expression barely visible. Judging by its unfamiliar appearance, it was not from the swamp. It bore none of the physical traits typical of swamp monsters.

[Who… are you?]

Kuinan looked down at the dying creature without a trace of sentiment.