RHH | Chapter 4.5

Leehwan pointed at the chief. Gretel flinched, her gaze instinctively following his finger. She had seen it—the moment greed flashed across the chief’s face upon learning that Leehwan possessed two relics.

The chief quickly composed himself, masking his expression as he shot back.

“Without evidence…”

“Margrethe. She’s the one who used the relic before you. You know her, right? And there must have been signs when using the relic. Fatigue, shortness of breath, dizziness…”

Leehwan continued speaking, not even sparing the chief a glance.

Gretel’s eyes widened at the mention of a familiar name, but when he began listing the symptoms, her body went rigid. His words had struck true. The memory of that day—the pallor of her face when she first used the relic—surfaced in her mind.

Her fingers tightened around the pouch at her waist. Leehwan silently hoped she would cast it away. But instead, her trembling hand fell limply to her side. Tears welled up and spilled down her young cheeks, darkening the ground beneath her in gray-stained streaks.

“Why… did you tell me… It would have been better not to know…”

Gretel sobbed, muttering under her breath. The chief’s face lit up with joy, his expression brimming with expectation.

Leehwan, who had been grimacing ever since she let her hand fall, sighed before finally responding.

“At least if you know, you can choose a different path. But it seems you’ve chosen to keep being deceived.”

Absalom wrapped an arm around Leehwan’s shoulder, guiding him forward. Leehwan followed his lead, but they managed only a few steps before coming to a halt.

The chief and the villagers stood in their way, blocking their path.

No longer bothering to mask their true nature, the villagers fixed their gleaming eyes on Leehwan and Absalom. Then, all at once, they surged forward.

Absalom’s hand went to his sword.

‘No.’

Someone whispered in Leehwan’s mind. Without thinking, he reached out to stop Absalom.

“You stay here.”

“Leehwan?”

Leehwan swung his sword in a short arc. Fresh blood splattered over the still-drying blood.

Thud. Thud.

Several wrists, still gripping their weapons, tumbled to the ground. Those who had yet to register the pain stood frozen in bewilderment—until the agony caught up with them, their delayed screams piercing the air.

Whoosh!

A sharp scythe came crashing down toward Leehwan, its force undeniable. Without hesitation, he swung his sword upward. The severed arm, carried by the momentum of his strike, soared through the air before plummeting to the ground. With a flick of his blade, he sent it hurtling toward an attacker rushing from behind.

Blood sprayed through the air like a sudden downpour.

“Die!”

A long spear lunged from the side. Leehwan ducked, then charged forward without hesitation. His sword plunged into thick layers of fat, emerging cleanly from the man’s back. The internal organs remained untouched—he wouldn’t die.

Leehwan stepped onto the collapsing man’s body and leaped, landing before the chief in an instant. His sword, slick with red blood and yellow fat, pressed against the chief’s throat.

“Did you think you could win just by ganging up on me?”

Unfortunately for the chief, Leehwan was no stranger to chaotic battles. And when facing a group with a leader, he knew—the key to victory lay in how quickly the leader fell.

The blade pressed deeper into the chief’s wrinkled neck. A thin red line widened as droplets of blood trickled down. The chief, now deathly pale, finally shouted.

“Everyone, stop! Fall back!”

The villagers hesitated, then slowly retreated. Leehwan swept his gaze over them, his expression unreadable. Then, he spoke.

“From now on, you’d better be ready to die.”

Leehwan withdrew his sword from the chief’s neck and turned away. Just as he took a step toward Absalom—

Whoosh!

A sword sliced through the air, hurtling straight toward his back.

A red rainbow arced through the clear sky before vanishing into the dust. A dry, lifeless body crumpled to the ground, followed by a round head rolling into the rapidly spreading pool of blood.

Leehwan stepped on the severed head that had come to rest at his feet, turning it upright with the tip of his boot.

“Any more?”

His calm voice echoed through the heavy silence. No one answered.

Without another word, Leehwan walked past Absalom. Somber-faced, Absalom followed.

They made their way to a spring near the village. There, Absalom soaked a clean cloth in the cool water and gently pressed it against Leehwan’s face.

“What are you doing?”

“Stay still.”

The gently moving cloth wiped away the bloodstains on Leehwan’s face. Leehwan slowly closed his eyes. The tension that had gripped him began to ease.

Eventually, Absalom’s hand stopped. Leehwan opened his eyes. Absalom’s eyes were clearly filled with anger.

“Why did you stop me?”

“Absalom.”

Leehwan had only stopped Absalom once. He had called Absalom’s name to calm him down, but Absalom quickly continued.

“You said killing humans wasn’t something you enjoyed. That you were raised that way. That means, to you, murder is wrong. Isn’t that right? Yet, in moments like this, you always act alone. Last time was the same.”

“Last time” referred to the night Leehwan had threatened Lucien and returned. Leehwan felt cornered.

“Absalom. Can we talk about this later?”

“No.”

The answer came without a second’s hesitation, firm and resolute. Whether Leehwan was surprised or not, Absalom didn’t care.

“You gave me permission. So I’m going to indulge my greed a little.”

Leehwan subtly turned away from Absalom. But it was hard to ignore the persistent turquoise eyes following him. Eventually, he sighed.

“I didn’t want you to see.”

To Leehwan, murder was a plea for affection—a desperate attempt to remain useful, to avoid being cast aside by the imperial family, to ensure he never became worthless to Lucien. But as the saying goes, the first time is the hardest. With each repetition, the shock dulled, fading into something almost routine.

Now, even when drenched in blood, Leehwan could maintain a calm exterior. It was nothing more than a messy remnant of his past. That was precisely why he didn’t want Absalom to see that side of him.

By the time Leehwan finished his halting explanation, Absalom wore a peculiar expression.

“But this time was different, wasn’t it?” His voice was quiet yet firm. “If it was something you didn’t want me to witness, then you should have left it to me.”

Leehwan recalled what had happened earlier—the unease, the flicker of danger he felt when Absalom reached for his sword. In that moment, clarity struck.

“I thought…I couldn’t let blood stain your hands.”

For a split second, Absalom’s face went blank.

It was fleeting, but unmistakable. A reaction that was too suspicious, too telling.

Leehwan parted his lips to press further—but Absalom moved first.

“Do you even know what you’re saying right now?”

“Yeah. So let’s just drop it…”

“No. You have no idea.”

Absalom gently caressed Leehwan’s cheek. It was clean now, but just moments ago, it had been stained with red.

“Didn’t you say it yourself? That it would torment you to kill.”

“…Yeah.”

“Doesn’t that mean you feel guilt over murder? That, to you, killing people is wrong…”

“Absalom.”

Leehwan hurriedly tried to cover Absalom’s mouth. But Absalom effortlessly dodged his hand.

“See? You’re reacting like this even now.”

“Let’s stop, Absalom.”

“No.”

“Why!”

Leehwan finally exploded in anger. Absalom smiled faintly and pulled Leehwan into an embrace.

“Because you’re still suffering because of it. You can’t even bear to hear words like guilt or wrongdoing. How can I just stand by and watch you ignore your pain like this?”

Leehwan’s breath hitched.

For a moment, he thought he had misheard.

Absalom’s words were laced with concepts that had never even crossed his mind—terms he had never allowed himself to acknowledge. A strange dizziness clouded his thoughts, unsettling and unfamiliar.

Swallowing dryly, Leehwan cleared his throat, trying to steady himself.

“I’m the perpetrator. There’s no way such nonsense applies to me.”

“That’s right. Leehwan is the perpetrator. A murderer.”

Even though it was the truth and he had said it himself, Leehwan’s heart ached at Absalom’s assertion. Absalom gently kissed his cheek.

“What do you think when you kill someone?”

His voice was unbearably kind, which made it feel even colder. Leehwan tried to pull away from Absalom’s embrace. But the firm arms wouldn’t let him go.

“You think you’re terrible, don’t you? Don’t you hate yourself for taking lives so easily? Don’t you want to punish yourself? No, it’s not just in the moment. You’ve thought about it over and over again, haven’t you?”

“Let go! Absalom!”

“You thought that if you kept picking at the wound, you’d get used to the pain. But does that make the pain go away? Pretending it doesn’t hurt, pretending you’re numb. That’s all it is—meaningless self-harm.”

The strength in Absalom’s arms faded. Leehwan, finally free from the tight cage, glared at Absalom with furious eyes.

“You…!”

But Leehwan couldn’t say anything more.

Absalom was smiling.

His silver hair shimmered under the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, his perfectly curved red lips, and his gently folded eyes—all of it was dazzling, almost mesmerizing.

But at the center of his turquoise eyes, the vertically slit pupils shifted ever so slightly.

And that changed everything.

It was as if a demon from a nightmare had appeared—terrifying, as though it could drag him into the abyss at any moment.

And yet, it was so breathtakingly beautiful that for a fleeting second, he thought—maybe it would be worth it.

The demon whispered.

“Don’t run away. What you’ve done is a sin.”

‘It’s not that I’m a bad person.’

“Don’t make excuses.”

‘I did it to protect everyone.’

“You know the truth, don’t you, Leehwan? That you killed those people for your own sake.”

The armor that had shielded Leehwan’s heart cracked.

No—what he had believed to be armor was nothing more than a veil. It hadn’t protected him. It had only blinded him, keeping the truth at arm’s length. Yet even now, he could feel the lingering grip of Lucien within him, stubborn and unyielding.

Absalom was right.

Leehwan had always known the truth, and he knew he had to let it go. But understanding something with his mind and accepting it with his heart were two entirely different things.

And now, Absalom had unearthed it all—dragging it from the shadows and shoving it before his eyes.

If Absalom was like a seductive demon, luring him into temptation, then the weight of his unwavering gaze, his merciless truth, was like the judgment of an archangel, sharp and inescapable.

“…You’re a bad guy.”

When Leehwan muttered, Absalom smiled again. His eyes had already returned to their usual state. Leehwan realized he felt a pang of regret at that.

“I’m sorry, Leehwan. I guess I was a little angry.”

“A little?”

Leehwan reflexively retorted. With that, the atmosphere returned to normal. Relieved, he didn’t stop the complaints that spilled out.

“Did you really have to bring that up now?”

“It wasn’t intentional. But I think if it wasn’t now, it wouldn’t have happened. I don’t know when you’ll be vulnerable again…”

Until now, most of the people Leehwan had killed were trained individuals like knights or soldiers. The turmoil he felt after killing them couldn’t be the same as when he killed the relatively weaker villagers, even if they were criminals.

After hearing Absalom’s explanation, Leehwan covered his eyes.

‘What kind of wings did I give this guy?’

A groan escaped him. Absalom pressed further.

“You’ve shown him your strong side, haven’t you? So let me know all your weak parts.”

Leehwan raised his head.

“Absalom.”

His voice was as cold as the depths of hell. Realizing his mistake, Absalom feigned ignorance. Leehwan reached out to him, his lips tightly sealed.

His hand brushed past Absalom’s chin and moved upward. Leehwan grabbed the soft ear and pulled. Then, in one swift motion, he plunged into the parted lips.

The kiss was brief but fierce. When they parted, Leehwan licked his wet lips. Absalom stared at him in a daze.

“If you can handle it, try more. But next time, I won’t stay still.”

Leehwan spoke bluntly and headed toward the spring. But he didn’t get far before being turned around. Countless kisses showered his face.

𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

Gretel left the village and headed toward a nearby forest. There was a hollow in a tree that she had frequented as a child.

The hollow, deeply carved into an old tree, was large enough to comfortably fit even the current Gretel. She curled up inside it.

How long had she been like that? Just as she was about to fall asleep, she suddenly jolted awake. A familiar tension crept up her spine. It was the sensation of a monster approaching.