RHH | Chapter 1.3

Through blurred vision, Leehwan watched as the judge trembled in fury while pronouncing his sentence.

Right then and there, Leehwan lost both of his arms. Before the blood could even stop gushing, a scorching-hot iron was pressed against the severed wounds. As he writhed in agony, the judge spoke.

“Death would be the rightful punishment. But in light of your past achievements, we will grant you mercy.”

Mercy.

Was this what they called mercy?

Every step back to the underground prison was painted in blood.

Lying in the damp darkness, Leehwan thought of Lucien. As long as he was safe, that was enough. Even if Lucien turned his back on him, denied ever knowing him—as long as he survived, that was all that mattered.

Tears flowed relentlessly down his face, washing away the blood on his cheeks.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

A few nights later

A lone carriage slipped out of the Imperial Palace under the cover of darkness. Inside sat Leehwan, blindfolded. For days, he remained locked inside, unable to drink a single drop of water. The journey dragged on endlessly.

At last, the carriage came to a stop.

As the blindfold was removed, Leehwan blinked against the sudden light. Through his blurry vision, he barely managed to make out the figure standing just a short distance away.

His beloved.

“…Lucien!”

Leehwan hurriedly approached Lucien. However, just as he took his second step, a soldier holding him back kicked his leg, forcing him to his knees. Yet, he didn’t take his eyes off Lucien.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt, right?”

The flood of questions he had been holding back came rushing out all at once. Lucien, who had remained silent for a moment, then smiled.

“I expected this, but it’s even more pathetic than I thought.”

With the elegant smile that Leehwan had once liked, Lucien wielded his words like a blade. The faint, lingering scent of the forget-me-not oil he often used subtly spread through the air.

“How foolish. Did you actually believe I liked you?”

“…What?”

“It was all Sir Charles’ order. You were acting suspicious, so I was told to keep you close and keep you in place. I never thought you’d throw yourself at me like that, though. You really don’t know your place.”

He spoke as if it was disgusting, saying he had lost sleep in fear that Leehwan would turn into a beast and pounce on him. With refined words and a cold tone, Lucien spat on Leehwan’s face.

“Feels so damn refreshing knowing I won’t have to see you again.”

Then, he pulled up his crimson lips in a twisted smirk.

“As a final mercy, I’ll tell you why you were dragged here. This is the trading ground designated by the dragon. He demanded you as the price for the truce. Seems like he wants to tear you apart, no matter what.”

Before Leehwan knew it, he was left alone. His legs were free, but there was nowhere for him to go. The lingering scent of forget-me-nots clung to him, as if shackling him in place.

As time passed and the sun began to set, someone suddenly appeared. It had to be the dragon.

Is this how he would die? Leehwan’s empty eyes followed the approaching figure. But then—he recognized the silhouette.

No way. It couldn’t be.

He prayed that Iella wouldn’t be that cruel. But the god of this world trampled even his final wish.

“Leehwan.”

Before him stood the one and only person in this world who called him by his true name.

Silver hair, reflecting the sunset in a bloody glow. Blue-green eyes, shimmering with resentment. Rigid, hardened features.

“Rlom.”

Back then, Absalom had told him to wait, so he did. But Rlom never returned that day. Instead, he had been waiting here for Leehwan all along.

Leehwan forced strength into his trembling, weakened legs.

“You were the dragon…?”

Silence was his answer. And silence meant yes.

Leehwan stumbled backward on shaking legs. At the edge of his vision, he saw the cliff. The rough ride up in the carriage meant this place had to be a highland. The ominous energy rising from below—those were monsters.

The dragon’s eyes widened, and he said something. A voice heavy with emotion brushed past Leehwan’s ears.

This world had deceived and betrayed him at every turn. What he thought he had grasped had never been his to begin with. Then, at the very least, his life—his one and only possession—should be his to decide.

Leehwan threw himself off the cliff, down into the swarm of monsters below. Several creatures were crushed under his weight. Sharp claws tore into his body.

His last sensation was the sound of his own scream splitting through the crimson twilight.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

But when he opened his eyes, he was inside Lucien’s carriage. Leehwan wiped his wet cheeks. He didn’t know what had happened, but he needed to assess the situation first.

Just as he was about to peek outside by lifting the carriage curtains, familiar footsteps approached. Leehwan flinched reflexively as if he were a dog waiting for its owner.

Soon, the carriage door opened.

“Sir Alexander, still asleep… Ah, you’re awake?”

Bright sunlight shattered dazzlingly over Lucien’s golden hair. Leehwan’s lover, who had turned his back on him, was smiling with a face that looked much younger.

Was it a dream? Leehwan thought as he witnessed the unbelievable scene before him. Yet, anger and hatred surged up.

Despite the tumultuous emotions within, Leehwan’s expression remained unchanged, perhaps overwhelmed by the rush of feelings. As Leehwan remained silent, Lucien stepped into the carriage.

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

Small, soft hands touched Leehwan’s forehead. No fever. The murmuring voice was higher than he remembered, but the slightly cool body temperature was the same as always.

His heart thumped reflexively. His body remembered the anger and tried to move. Leehwan clenched his teeth. He felt he might push Lucien away if he let his guard down.

Lucien smiled, leaving Leehwan frozen. The sound of laughter echoed inside the carriage like bells.

“Come out since you’re awake. We’re here for a picnic, after all.”

Lucien flung open the carriage door. Sunlight flooded into the dim interior. Leehwan squinted his eyes shut and then opened them. Young royals were peacefully walking, holding the hands of their nannies.

Was this all a daydream? Perhaps it was someone’s curse. Just as Leehwan was about to slap his cheek to wake up, a sound of something massive scraping the ground approached from afar. Instinctively, Leehwan moved.

As he kicked open the carriage door, screams erupted, overlaid by a woman’s shrill laughter. As soon as he landed, he surveyed his surroundings. Several knights were on guard.

Leehwan looked towards where the laughter came from. There stood a Lamia, her upper body that of a woman and lower half a snake.

The Lamia licked her lips and laughed at the sight of Leehwan. Lamias fed on human blood, preferring that of men. To them, this place filled with sturdy knights was as good as a feast laid out.

The Lamia straightened up. Her long, black nails, venomous, gleamed threateningly. Leehwan still felt like he was dreaming, because he remembered this scenario.

On a sunny autumn day, during a rare picnic meant for leaf peeping, a group of Lamias appeared in the royal forest.

The leading Lamia charged. Leehwan moved as his body remembered. Suddenly drawing his gracefully curved crescent sword, it flashed under the sun as it sliced through the Lamia.

Splurt!

Red blood sprayed long on the autumn leaves. Agonized screams cut through the clear sky. Leehwan stood, stepping on the Lamia split in half, its torso. The upturned blade relentlessly pierced through the monster’s ample chest.

Crunch!

The blade burrowed through soft flesh and shattered the pearly white orb beneath, the monster’s core. As long as this remained intact, a monster would not die.

The white core stained black, emitting dark smoke. The dispersing form didn’t look good, but it was harmless to humans. Leehwan spat out the smoke that had entered his lungs as if to expel it and moved on.

As he was about to destroy the third Lamia’s core, another suddenly sprang out, clawing at Leehwan’s thigh. Leehwan groaned lowly and ruthlessly pierced through the Lamia’s left chest, shattering the core in one stroke, killing it without a scream.

Leehwan tied his thigh tightly with a handkerchief to stop the spread of the poison. While wiping the poisoned blood with his clothes, his hand froze.

A scar identical to one he had in a dreamlike or imaginary scenario was etched on his thigh.

Leehwan stood in front of a mirror. A familiar yet somehow strange face reflected in the smooth glass surface. He stared at the mirror, realizing why his face felt so awkward.

Unlike when he was twenty-seven and plagued by illness, his complexion was now good, his eyes clear. The brows that used to furrow in pain and the gaunt cheeks had smoothed out.

Most notably, his right ear, half torn off by a monster at twenty-five, was intact. Leehwan caressed the round helix of his ear, then reached for the buttons on his uniform.

The black, red, and gold coat of the royal knights’ uniform fell away. Shedding his shirt and pants, he examined his back in the mirror. There were some scars, but compared to the back in his memories, it was much cleaner.

In late autumn of the year he was twenty-four, he had fallen from a cliff during a monster’s attack. Rocks had rained down on him as he struggled to breathe. He had barely survived, but a horrendous scar had remained on his back.

Leehwan’s gaze shifted to his left thigh. The same autumn, the wound inflicted by a Lamia had soaked his thigh in blood.

Was this a dream? If so, which was the dream, and which was reality? The events of today made it hard to believe it was just a dream of a twenty-seven-year-old Leehwan. But the pain from the wound felt too real to consider the twenty-four-year-old Leehwan a dream. Plus, his memories before the picnic were blurry.

If neither were dreams, Leehwan involuntarily moaned. If he had somehow traveled back in time, then the pain he had experienced would soon become his reality.

Thoughts of his lover and friends alternated in his mind, an uncontrollable mix of hatred and yet undying affection surged. Leehwan fled from the mirror to the bed. When things were unresolved, it was best to sleep without thinking.

Leehwan burrowed into the bed covers. Even though it wasn’t yet cold, a chill swept over his body. He hugged himself tightly, closing his eyes, hoping that everything would be sorted out when he woke up.

But as always, Leehwan’s hopes did not materialize.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

Three days later, in the evening, Leehwan was inside his tent, exhausted from riding all day. He lay down on the cot and closed his eyes.

He wished it was all a dream, either way. But the vivid sensations surrounding Leehwan blocked any escape. His heart had already confirmed the regression. Something, either hope or resentment, gnawed at his heart.

Leaving the cot, he rummaged through his bag. Inside were neatly folded uniforms of the Imperial Knights. The uniform, which had been no different from everyday clothes until just before his death, now looked horrifying just by looking at it.