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    Since Truyde’s body itself was the black potion, consuming the former king, who was soaked with the black potion, had no effect on him. However, ironically, just as his father said, he would often get an upset stomach from rotten meat. Not fearing any poison, he never forgot to take the hawk’s herb.

    If he really dies from a stomachache, that would be truly laughable. However, this diligence betrayed him. Abel noticed it first, and now Karas had discovered all his secrets based on that.

    “So, you ate my father and turned into the black potion yourself?”

    Truyde, now completely exposed, couldn’t respond and turned pale as a corpse, holding his breath. Karas, not expecting an answer, took a step back. Then he lowered his eyes again and scrutinized Truyde’s body.

    “Then both your flesh and blood must be poison. But you couldn’t have torn off your flesh.”

    “……”

    “Blood.”

    Karas added, explaining as he locked eyes with Truyde.

    “So that was why. The reason you couldn’t produce an infinite amount of black potion, and after making it once, you couldn’t make it again for a certain period of time. Ah, and that’s why you were always worried it would spoil. After all, it’s a rotten-smelling poison, and it’s also blood, so does it render useless over time?”

    Truyde still couldn’t open his mouth. His prolonged silence was becoming a firm affirmation. However, Karas didn’t care about his reaction. Instead, he seemed rather disappointed by the secret that had been revealed.

    “Using the power of a dragon immune to poison to defeat it with the same power of a dragon. I had guessed as much. So, I had some expectations. I thought the black potion you fed me was at least my father’s corpse. But it turned out to be just your blood.”

    The words that he had expected his own father would be consumed flowed out causally from his mouth. The truth about the black potion, which would be shocking to anyone else, was merely a dull fact that fell short of expectations for the person before him. Truyde recalled what his father had said as he looked into Karas’ emotionless gray snake eyes.

    ‘An evil dragon in human form was born.’

    A being of pure destruction that was nothing but viciousness and cruelty. It was an appearance occasionally seen from the previous king but soaked in the black potion, he was merely an insect that would die if trampled on. However, he had failed to realize what a dragon’s descendant truly was.

    ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

    It felt like his body was floating in the air. No, his body was actually rising into the air. Abel flailed his legs in panic, but his body continued to rise higher regardless.

    Huh?

    Am I going up?

    When the nickname “Gechaban” unexpectedly triggered the magic and a spell was cast, Abel didn’t know what to do.

    He looked down to ask for help, but the others’ appearances were strange. Everyone had their mouths open, and hands outstretched in shock. However, they all remained motionless. In particular, Melmond, who was still not feeling well, struggled to stand even for a moment and was frozen with his knee’s half spread.

    Everyone was all as still as paintings. Abel stopped flailing his legs and stared blankly at them before looking up. At some point, Abel’s body had also stopped, and a thick white fog began to fill the surroundings slowly. Unable to see an inch ahead, Abel reached out his hand toward the fog and instinctively stepped forward.

    Then, whoosh—his body suddenly moved forward. Startled, Abel froze for a moment but then slowly moved his foot again. Although his body was still floating in the air, he found that he could still move forward as if he were walking once he moved his feet.

    However, the fog was too thick to see anything, so where could he go to?

    And wasn’t he inside the library?

    Abel looked around in bewilderment and opened his trembling mouth. He still held the wooden pendant tightly in his hand so that he wouldn’t lose it.

    “So, um, I want to see how the Truyde family came to make the black potion, what its ingredients are, and how it all started.”

    After making his request to the wooden pendant, Abel glanced his eyes around anxiously.

    Will this work?

    Will it really show me the past?

    It must be a very distant past.

    As he turned his head in worry, Abel saw a red light in his eyes. His feet moved on his own as he saw the light that flickered like an animal’s eyes in the fog.

    Then, as if pushed by the wind, his body quickly began to move towards the light. At first, he tried to move his legs as if to flail again, but his speed increased, rendering his movements meaningless. With the sound of wind roaring in his ears, all he could do was hold on to his body to avoid falling over.

    Just as he felt he would be rolled away like a ball due to the wind, the pushing force suddenly disappeared. Though his body was still floating, the fog around him had cleared up. He was no longer in the library. He was in a world surrounded by pitch-black darkness. Far below his feet, torches were twinkling like stars.

    The fear of floating so high in the air lasted only a moment before Abel realized where he was. From the scattered shapes of the large buildings below him, he could tell it was the palace. It seemed he had truly come to the palace from the past.

    With his heart pounding, he swallowed hard, hoping it wasn’t a dream. However, the wind suddenly pushed his body again, moving him. He quickly descended and headed straight towards a wall.

    Ah!

    Before he could even scream out of his mouth, he realized he had passed through the wall without any obstruction.

    Thump, thump, thump.

    His heart pounded like crazy.

    What is this?

    He was floating in the air and passing through walls like a ghost. No matter how much he blinked, this was real. He knew it was all magic created by the wooden pendant, but he still couldn’t help but find it hard to believe.

    Abel looked around and took a step. There was no one in the corridor, dimly lit by scattered torches. As far as Abel knew, this palace was supposed to be the king’s bedchamber, but there were no soldiers or servants in sight. He moved towards the sound of footsteps that had caught his attention.

    Click, clack, click.

    Someone was walking hurriedly on the tiled floor. Curious about what was happening, he started to approach but stopped instinctively, fearing the person might notice an intruder and turn around. However, he then remembered that he wasn’t part of this world.

    Floating in the air and passing through walls, he was indeed a ghost-like presence to them. So, he wouldn’t be seen. Mustering up his courage, he moved ahead to see the man’s face. The man, who looked to be in his early twenties, was smaller and slimmer than he had appeared from behind.

    His face, pale with tension and jaw clenched as if he were grinding his teeth, was covered in wounds. Seeing him, Abel stopped, even as the man passed by him. But soon, Abel followed him with determined eyes. The young man’s face resembled Truyde’s.

    “Is it true? His Majesty?”

    Truyde’s ancestor asked in a trembling voice, roughly shaking the arm of the tall, thin man standing in front at the door. Abel looked at the tall man and thought of Marquis Yan. Although their faces didn’t resemble each other much, their overall atmosphere felt similar. This was further confirmed by his voice.

    “Yes.”

    The Marquis’ ancestor nodded and turned to look at the closed door right in front of him.

    “His Majesty… has passed away.”

    His voice was low, but there was no sorrow or grief.

    If he says, ‘His Majesty,’ does that mean the king has died?

    Why isn’t he sad?

    Instead, it felt as if there was a sense of bittersweet relief. Abel looked at him strangely and then noticed that, like Truyde’s ancestor, his face was covered in scars. Ranging from old scars to scabs that seemed to have formed recently. Unlike the Marquis’ ancestor, who remained composed, Truyde’s ancestor began to tremble all over, shocked by his words.

    “Uh, uh…… H-How?”

    “I don’t know. He hadn’t had a sip of water in recent days. He just passed away as if he were sleeping.”

    “That’s… impossible.”

    Tears quickly welled up in Truyde’s ancestor’s eyes as he shook his head.

    “No, this can’t… He can’t go… like this. No… No!”

    His scream echoed through the empty corridor. However, no one came running.

    It was as if those two were the only people in the entire palace. Just as Abel’s confusion grew, the Marquis’s ancestor sneered at Truyde’s ancestor, who was shedding tears.

    “Go ahead and cry. Everyone else will be celebrating the death of the cruel king, so it’s fine if you shed tears at least once. But get your head straight. The king is dead. The one you loved so dearly but who never gave you a glance is now gone.”

    Truyde’s ancestor, tears streaming down his face, glared at the Marquis’ ancestor.

    “Don’t be ridiculous. Someday, my love would have reached him. If he hadn’t died, he would have been mine!”

    “Get a grip. The king’s real Regas died several years ago. Don’t you know that the king holds only one Regas in his heart? That’s why the country ended up in this mess! Think about how many people the mad king killed after the Regas died and he lost his mind. The palace has been a deserted ruin for a long time, and only a few of the King’s Heart remain in this palace. And yet you haven’t given up hope? Listen well. It’s not you. No matter how long you stay by his side, you can never become his Regas. No, even if you served him for hundreds of years, do you think he’ll even remember your name?”

    “Shut up.”

    Truyde’s ancestor dug his nails into the arm he was holding, glaring at the other person with bloodshot eyes.

    “I don’t care how many insignificant people die and disappear. If only all the people in the world had died and calmed His Majesty’s anger, how great would that have been? Poor thing. I, I could have saved him. I could have become His Majesty’s Regas.”

    Abel, forgetting that he was secretly watching them, stepped back. Truyde’s ancestor’s eyes were filled with unknown malice, making him look as if he was out of his mind. However, the Marquis’s ancestor, accustomed to his state, roughly shook off the hand that was holding his arm and sneered.

    “The only way for you to become a real Regas is to become the Regas of the young prince who will ascend the throne in the future. Ah, but didn’t that prince cry the moment he first saw you, saying he disliked you? Then live a little longer. Who knows? Perhaps when you become a grandfather, you might become the Regas of the next person who will ascend the throne.”

    Truyde’s ancestor, as if he had never glared at him before, fell into despair and shed tears again upon hearing these words.

    “But I was the one who loved His Majesty the most in this world. Even that idiot who received His Majesty’s love couldn’t compare to my love.”

    “Don’t you realize that thanks to that idiot, we were able to stay in the palace?”

    The Marquis’ ancestor glanced back at the door behind him and let out a small sigh.

    “We were able to produce the first Regas that came from the King’s Heart. We educate the Regas on the largest scale, but we’ve always been overshadowed by those bear-like brutes running around the mountains. Now, we finally get to stand by the king’s side. However, now that the king is dead, we’re finished. We barely managed to drive away those from the opposing factions, but once they hear the news of the king’s death, they’ll come to the palace and take the Regas’ position again. Haa, d*mn it. We somehow managed to stay by the mad king’s side just to strengthen our foundation while he was still alive.”

    “Then let’s pretend he’s alive.”

    At the words that flowed out casually, Abel felt an inexplicable chill. Truyde’s ancestor’s eyes were still wet, but now they showed no emotion.

    “What do you mean?”

    “We just have to hide His Majesty’s death for a while. And in the meantime, we’ll find a way.”

    “What way? Even if we hide it, it’ll eventually be discovered.”

    “We’re the only ones who know, right? As you said, there are barely five people left in this palace.”

    When the other person couldn’t respond, Truyde’s ancestor added persuasively.

    “Now, we know that His Majesty can no longer exert any power, but those who don’t know will still remain in hiding, too scared to come out. We can use this opportunity to place someone from the King’s Heart close to the prince. Moreover, we might even find something better.”

    “Something better?”

    A questioning voice was heard, but Truyde’s ancestor only stared intensely at the closed door for a long time before he finally said something ambiguous.

    “A new king with the power of a dragon.”

    What?

    The Marquis’s ancestor asked, confused, but Truyde’s ancestor opened the previously closed door and stepped inside. Then, as if intending to enter alone, he closed the door in front of the Marquis’ ancestor and spoke.

    “I’ve told you the plan, so I’ll take care of His Majesty’s body. His Majesty is mine now.”

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