RGS Vol 7 Part 1

DRAGON

Something was wrong. He could not move freely. No one was pressing him down, yet the war profiteer couldn’t move his body. Even when he barely opened his eyes, everything around him wavered as if he was underwater. Even in his nausea and hazy state of mind, he knew something was wrong.

Where did it start to go wrong?

In fact, if he thought about it, the problem began when he became a war profiteer under the emperor’s orders. No, perhaps the problem started from the moment he was born as the son in a poor territory. When the plague broke out, his father, who lost three children, blamed everything on poverty.

Thus, he tried to marry off the war profiteer, who would inherit their territory, to a woman with a large dowry. However, he ignored his father’s orders and chose a poor woman instead. That was the only honorable choice in his life, and he doesn’t regret it even now.

He had sunk deeper into poverty, becoming just like his father whom he once despised. He believed he had no choice. During years of drought, a plague broke out again. The illness could be cured with proper care, but in times of famine, it was as good as incurable.

During a time when everyone was poor, the only place that overflowed with the smell of rich food was the Temple of the King’s Heart. However, like everyone else, the war profiteer couldn’t get angry at them. He believed they were too powerful, as inevitable as the plague itself.

So, until his father’s death, he foolishly did nothing. When he lost his two children, who were not even five years old, he didn’t shed a tear. He could only laugh bitterly at his life that was repeating itself, mirroring his father’s. However, while arranging his deceased father’s remains, he found something.

From the clothes his father always wore, he found two gold coins, hidden away by being sewn into several layers of fabric. The money his father had held onto until the very end. With that money, they could have bought grain and saved lives. If he had just given that money, they could have bought grain and people could have lived. His father had not given it up, even as his son and daughter-in-law starved, and his grandchildren were dying. Not until his own death.

A few days later, the rain signaling the end of the drought soaked the dry land. However, the rain couldn’t even moisten and reached the insides of the dried-up war profiteer. New children were born after the drought, but his devastated mind did not recover. Even as he accumulated money like his father, the drought of desire never disappeared within him.

More. He needed to gather more. By any means necessary.

‘Once you take this, you won’t be able to stop. Will you still do it?’

He bared his teeth and laughed at the warning from his long-time friend, Kin. If he couldn’t stop, that would have been even better. It meant he wouldn’t be weak-hearted and give up. He didn’t care even if he was controlled by the emperor through poison, as long as he could become the richest man in the country, just as he promised. So, he followed the emperor’s orders without any doubt.

But why, in the end, when it was almost all over, he couldn’t shake off his doubts?

‘Don’t feed it to Truyde.’

When the emperor dined with the King’s Heart, he ordered that Truyde should not be given the poison. Though he couldn’t understand it, he suppressed his curiosity, thinking the emperor had his reasons. He was just a puppet merely following the emperor’s words. However, after Marquis Yan died, Truyde accidentally received the meal containing the poison.

‘Ah, no! That’s the Marquis’ food.’

He blurted out in shock, but no one paid attention to him. Everyone was trembling in fear over the death of the Marquis. Only the war profiteer was anxious about the food that had been mistakenly given that was supposedly for the marquis. He was worried that if Truyde ate the poisoned food and got sick, he would be accountable for the mistake.

That day, Truyde didn’t eat much of the poisoned meal. Most people would feel good after eating just a few spoonful, but Truyde left it unfinished. The war profiteer was relieved, thinking that the meal contained less poison than usual. Then he heard the emperor’s question.

‘Aren’t you eating?’

That must have been the start. Looking back, it seemed that the emperor began to suspect him from then on. After that, the emperor’s order changed to include poisoning Truyde as well. Once again, the war profiteer faithfully carried out the emperor’s orders without asking any questions.

He thought that if he was lucky, he would survive to see the end. He believed he would be able to see and finally understand the emperor’s incomprehensible intentions. Perhaps he even hoped to live a little longer to see his family. He dreamed of a future where he would build the most magnificent palace in the country on his estate, becoming the envy of everyone, having already become the richest man in the land.

Even knowing that it was all a futile delusion, he didn’t want to give up hope. That thin thread of hope suppressed his unnecessary curiosities. He always envisioned his family and territory would always be wealthy. Now, his children would no longer remember him like their grandfather.

This was the only thing that sustained him, but in the end, he couldn’t suppress his own curiosity.

Why wasn’t Truyde affected by the poison?

At first, he thought it was his own mistake. The war profiteer spent more than half of his day in a drug-induced stupor. He tried to regain some clarity, even a little, in the swamp he had sunk into. However, sometimes, when he opened his eyes, he would look up and find that hours had passed without him remembering anything.

I must have made a mistake.

He never considered the possibility that the poison, which had ruined him like this, would have no effect on Truyde. But every time he ate, he heard the emperor’s question.

‘Aren’t you eating?’

Every time he heard the question directed at Truyde, the war profiteer’s heart sank. It felt like the emperor was blaming him for his mistake. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. Trying to stay a bit more conscious, he eventually stopped taking the poison he had relied on every day for years. And then he suddenly realized he hadn’t made a mistake.

Truyde wasn’t getting poisoned. This revelation gnawed at the war profiteer, who had abandoned all hope because of the poison.

How is that possible?

Why wasn’t Truyde sinking into the depths of despair?

He wanted to test it for the last time before his eyes. He held up a salted snack and watched Truyde as he eats it.

Even after eating it, Truyde showed no reaction, not even a change in his gaze, confirming his intuition. However, that was the end of it. Absorbed with his curiosity, he didn’t realize that Truyde had fed him something in return. A poison that was several times stronger than what he had consumed.

It was probably the black potion. He already knew that his body, poisoned as it was, wouldn’t last long, but the drug Truyde had given him shortened that time even more. With the last bit of remaining strength he had, the war profiteer barely managed to lift his eyelids. It was still early dawn. He probably wouldn’t even see the rising sun.

Crash, bang!

The loud noises that had been heard earlier grew louder along with a rough voice.

“Ugh, d*mn Truyde! Hah, you gave me the black potion? Trying to control me?!”

Still staggering under the influence of the poison, Norhox yelled and broke the furniture in the room, unable to walk properly.

“The Regas is mine! I won’t let you take it! Huff, no, I won’t let you!”

Crash, bang—!

Norhox, unable to control his anger, kicked at anything with his foot, only to trip over a fallen table and tumble to the floor. Even as he rolled on the chaotic floor, he managed to stand up despite bleeding, perhaps due to the poison’s influence. However, odd enough, no one came in to stop him.

Perhaps they thought there was no need for guards since he was under the influence of the black potion. Or perhaps, even if there were guards, they probably didn’t take Norhox’s rampage seriously. Either way, it was fortunate for the war profiteer who could barely keep his eyes open.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Norhox began slamming the door with a long iron candlestick. Though the door was firmly locked, it shook with each blow every time he slammed it. As Norhox’s ragged breathing reached its peak, he finally lowered his hand from the door that wouldn’t open.

“Haa, haa, haa.”

The room soon fell silent except for his heavy breathing. After a long moment, with only a few flickering candles casting light, a whisper was heard.

“The Regas has already fallen in Truyde’s hands.”

Norhox, who had been leaning his head against the door, turned his eyes, now gleaming with madness. And then he noticed the war profiteer, who he hadn’t realized was huddled in the corner as if dead.

“No, The Regas is mine!”

He spoke as if he were a child, asserting his claim. It was evidence that the black potion still controlled him, but strangely, the war profiteer, who had consumed the same potion, was different. His eyes shone with a clarity that was almost from a normal person. It was the most rational he had looked since he started taking the poison.

“You’ve lost everything to Truyde.”

When the war profiteer spoke weakly, Norhox’s face contorted like a beast’s.

“Shut up! The Regas is mine!”

“Then take it back.”

For a moment, it seemed as if time had stopped, and even Norhox’s breathing ceased. After a brief silence, the war profiteer’s voice flowed out again, piercing Norhox’s mind like a stake.

“Yes. It’s yours. Should I tell you where the Regas is?”

It was when he had been sprawled out in Truyde’s room after drinking the black potion. He had consumed a stronger poison, so he shouldn’t have remembered anything, but strangely, Trude’s words to his subordinates remained. He threatened to either give up their own neck or bring back the escaped Regas to the Regas Palace.

Of course, he remembered other things as well. He recalled how he had answered all of Truyde’s questions without hesitation. He had kept everything well hidden until the end, but ultimately, he ended up leaving a stain on the emperor’s orders. Thus, dying like this without addressing this felt unjust. As Truyde’s pawn, the war profiteer had picked up quite a few rumors from the people of the duchy.

One rumor was about Norhox, who came and went from the Regas Palace as if it were his own home. Among the Regas he cherished was one who was particularly jealous. This Regas had locked the door and hidden the key to prevent Norhox from meeting other Regas. He even posted guards outside the door.

However, the next day, Norhox emerged from that locked room.

When he first heard it, the war profiteer thought of a secret passage. Since the Norhox household had managed the Regas Palace for generations, there might be a passage that only they knew about. Another rumor said that Norhox would disappear during the parties he held at his mansion and then suddenly reappear in another room. If a secret passage really existed, Norhox might not be a broken sword just yet.

T/N: 1. The idiom “부러진 검” (translated as “broken sword”) in the context of the given text refers to someone who has lost their power, effectiveness, or influence. A sword, when intact, is a symbol of strength, power, and capability. However, a broken sword is ineffective and symbolizes weakness or loss of power. In this case, the war profiteer speculates that if Norhox knows of a secret passage and can still use it, he might not be as powerless or “broken” as he appears.

“Regas Palace.”

The war profiteer repeated, seeing Norhox’s eyes light up.

“The Regas Palace. Go and take what’s yours… back.”

The voice was very faint, like a whisper, but the war profiteer did not feel uneasy. As soon as the words were spoken, the sound of pounding on the door resumed. Norhox began smashing the door with even greater force than before.

Thanks to this, it wasn’t long before he finally managed to break down the door and run out like a madman. Unfortunately, the war profiteer didn’t get to see this. Just as he had predicted, he did not live to see the last dawn. However, a faint smile remained on his face as he drew his last breath.

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Abel was in a daze. If he were to describe his current state, it would be like an arrow shot without much thought that had suddenly hit the bullseye. The problem was, he didn’t know exactly how he had hit the target. The reason he had brought up the herb was just a result of mere curiosity.

Why does Truyde have that scent?

Perhaps, if Truyde had ignored him, his curiosity would have faded quickly. He would have dismissed it as a strange coincidence. However, the moment Abel saw Truyde’s face upon hearing those words, that became impossible. He had looked as if he had seen a ghost.

His eyes which had been full of confidence and desire had now reflected shock and fear. His face turned pale instantly, making it hard to believe he was the same person from moments before. Abel could still vividly recall Truyde’s shocked and bewildered appearance.

Truyde continued to behave unexpectedly until the very end. Unable to hide his panic, he simply got up and left. Though thanks to this Abel managed to avoid danger, he didn’t have the time nor luxury to feel grateful. The arrow that struck Truyde was the herb. It was certainly related to the black potion. However, he couldn’t understand why.

That herb shouldn’t be an ingredient for the black potion, should it?

Sometimes, if an herb is taken incorrectly, it can become poisonous. Most of the time, this usually happens when too much is used, particularly if the herb has strong detoxifying properties. This was what Abel found strange. The herb in question didn’t have strong detoxifying properties. Therefore, he didn’t think it could be an antidote for the black potion.

So what connection could it possibly have?