Chapter 34: A Thread of Bonds and Betrayal

A pitch-dark basement. Damp, acrid air filled the count’s laboratory. Though a window stood open, the place reeked of rot, crowded with the carcasses of various beasts.

He lifted a beaker bubbling vigorously. The liquid inside shimmered with an eerie glow, sending up long trails of white smoke with each ripple.

“Heh…”

With a bizarre chuckle, the count laughed like a madman. A glint flickered in his eyes as if some twisted thought had crossed his mind. Then he approached a figure bound in chains.

“You foolish wretch. I raised you, and this is how you repay me, by rebelling without knowing your place?!”

“…Raised me? You say that without a shred of shame?”

“Shut up! A worthless mutt who hasn’t even manifested, how dare you!”

Trembling with rage, the count shook violently. In response, the man curled his lips into a crooked smirk, mocking him. Unable to contain his fury, the count flung the liquid in his hand onto Osh’s face. It hissed and frothed, releasing thick white smoke that filled the air.

Even as the choking fumes made the count cough, Osh didn’t so much as blink. Instead, his eyes darkened further, sinking into a deeper shade of shadow.

He strained against the shackles around his wrists as if he might break them at any moment, but it was futile. His unmanifested power was being absorbed by the restraints, weakening him.

Only after the dense smoke began to clear did the count step closer. Looking at Osh, drenched in sweat, he sneered.

“So this is all your pathetic resistance amounts to?”

“When I awaken… I’ll kill you first.”

“You? My equal? Don’t make me laugh. Give it up. Swear to become my loyal hound, and I might consider sparing that brat’s life.”

At the count’s condescending tone, Osh twisted his lips in scorn. In response, the count struck his abdomen hard with his cane. The blow was so forceful that veins bulged across Osh’s smooth brow.

Even groaning seemed beneath his pride, he bit down on his lower lip so hard it nearly tore. But as the blows continued, a ringing pain spread through his skull.

“Foolish brat.”

The count struck him again. After countless hits, Osh coughed up a spray of blood. His eyes, which hadn’t even flinched at the smoke, were now bloodshot from the pain.

“How useless must you be for the young duke to end up as the crown prince’s partner?! Do you even realize everything’s falling apart because of you?!”

“Good.”

As if he had never intended to obey in the first place, Osh sneered faintly. Enraged, the count struck his face again.

“What did you say, you idiot?!”

Still unsatisfied, he beat Osh again with his cane. But madness met madness, Osh only curved his eyes and lips as if he were enjoying it.

Blood trickled down from his forehead, trailing along his jaw before dripping to the floor. His pale face was now so smeared with blood it was hard to recognize.

The striking contrast with his red hair made his appearance almost disturbingly beautiful. Dragging his bad leg, the count approached him.

“You’re most beautiful when you’re drenched in blood.”

He gently stroked Osh’s face. His eyes gleamed like those of a beast, his expression filled with twisted desire as he slowly licked his lips. Disgusted, Osh gathered saliva in his mouth and spat it onto the count’s face.

Smack-

With a sharp sound, Osh’s head snapped to the side. Furious, the count hissed through clenched teeth.

“You insolent bastard. A mutt with nothing but a face, how dare you!”

“…”

“Keep this up, and I’ll ruin that pretty face your precious one likes so much.”

The count grabbed Osh’s clothes roughly, tearing them open. Beneath the ripped fabric, his chest was exposed. Below a pink nub, a butterfly-shaped mark was etched into his skin. But its wings were incomplete, riddled with holes like burn scars.

As if crushing it, the count pressed his fingers into the mark.

“You know you can’t escape me. I’ll give you one last chance.”

With a simple dark spell, black energy seeped from his fingertips. It coiled like a snake, tightening around the butterfly’s wings. At last, unable to endure it, Osh let out a strangled groan.

“…Ugh…”

“Listen well, Osh. Go and uncover the Ilya family’s secrets. Then bring me that duke’s head. That is your final chance.”

At those words, Osh’s face twisted violently. Still, his eyes remained defiant. The count cast another spell. Osh’s eyes rolled back, blood pouring from his nose. Even as he looked on the verge of death, the count watched calmly, eyes filled with delight.

“Never forget, Osh. The one who holds your cursed heart… is not Kebel Ilya. It is me.”

As the spell ended, Osh’s eyes returned to normal. The darkness faded, and his head drooped weakly.

“Now answer me. Osh Sulleban.”

“…Understood.”

With a voice of obedience, he lifted his head. As if answering the count’s laughter, he slowly curved his lips into a smile, revealing even teeth.

Even that devilish expression, like something from hell, pleased the count. Smiling in satisfaction, he wiped the blood from Osh’s face.

“Good. I’ll trust you once more.”

He licked the blood from his thumb as if savoring it, like a child sucking on a finger, like it granted him eternal life.

****

“As expected, the tailor has excellent taste.”

With arms crossed, Beryl looked Kebel up and down with satisfaction. The tailored outfit accentuated Kebel’s beauty with elegance. In contrast, Beryl’s own attire was excessively tight, sleek like a branch, purple in color, making him resemble Peter Pan from a storybook.

“I made it as tight as possible since you seem to like that. It suits me better than I expected.”

At Kebel’s gaze, Beryl stretched his lips into a grin.

“Well? Perfect, isn’t it?”

“…”

Seeing the overly emphasized area that looked ready to burst through the fabric, Kebel flushed with embarrassment. He turned his head away, feeling as if he himself were wearing it. If only there had been another focal point… it wouldn’t have been this awkward.

But Beryl misread his reaction, his golden eyes gleaming proudly.

“Judging by your expression, you like it.”

That’s not it… Kebel couldn’t say it aloud. With a sigh, he gave a small nod, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing with someone so self-absorbed.

Pleased, Beryl puffed out his chest even more. Thankfully, the fabric stretched, otherwise, it might have torn with an awkward sound. Feeling stifled, Kebel began to remove his gloves, only to have his hand suddenly grabbed.

“Where are the cufflinks I gave you?”

“…In my pocket.”

With a tone like a growling beast, Beryl’s golden eyes sharpened. As if he’d bite him if he didn’t comply, Kebel hurriedly took them out. Only then did Beryl’s expression soften into a smile.

“So you wanted me to put them on you.”

Without waiting for an answer, he tossed aside the ones Kebel was wearing and fastened his own, gripping Kebel’s hand tightly, eyes half-lidded.

“Now… you finally feel like mine.”

“…What?”

“Why that look? We’re engaged, after all.”

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

At Kebel’s dark expression, Beryl’s face darkened as well. As if already knowing what was coming, he pulled Kebel into his arms. The faint scent of lavender and the firmness of his chest made Kebel push him away, but Beryl only held him tighter and whispered lowly,

“If what I’m thinking is right… you’d better not even dream of it.”

“…Please let go.”

“What’s the problem? You used to follow me around, saying you liked me. So why have you changed now?”

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