RHH | Chapter 5.1

The Owner Reached Out Toward the Hound

The first memory was darkness. When he stretched out his hand, he felt a solid wall. Instinctively, he knew he had to break it. He thrashed his limbs and headbutted the wall until it crumbled. And when it did, a massive being greeted him.

What he had thought was a wall had been a shell—one that had shielded him from the outside world. The moment he stepped beyond it and touched the ground for the first time, a single word flashed through his mind.

‘Absalom.’

He realized it was his name.

The massive being introduced himself as Andreas. In that moment, Absalom understood—this was his only kin, and soon, he would be left alone.

Dragons were rare beings, with only one existing per generation. Absalom was the fourth dragon to be born.

Their birth was as unique as their rarity. When a dragon’s time to die approached, the earth would create an egg. Once the young dragon hatched, the previous dragon would live for roughly 100 more years, ensuring the young one’s growth before ascending to the heavens. This was the cycle of generational change.

A dragon’s lifespan was around 5,000 years—the longest of any living being on earth. During that time, a dragon had one mission.

To watch over Iella and maintain the balance of the world. Dragons were created for this purpose.

To explain this, we must go back to a time long before life was created.

Long ago, there were three gods.

Majir, who resembled a winged wolf.

Sisrun, who resembled a snake.

Iella, who resembled a human.

At the time, the world consisted only of them. Eventually, they grew weary of the endless silence. And so, they decided to create living beings.

Each god created life in their own image. Majir created monsters, Sisrun created animals, and Iella created humans.

Monsters and animals adapted easily to the world. The problem lay with the humans Iella had created. Perhaps because Iella was the weakest of the three gods, humans struggled to survive in a world where everything clashed. Watching them wither away before they could even grow properly, the gods felt pity.

The first to act was Majir, the winged wolf. He climbed as high as he could and took all the burdens too heavy for humans onto his back, preventing them from falling to the ground.

Sisrun descended deep below. Beneath him gathered all the things too light for humans. He coiled around them, preventing them from rising.

And so, they became the sky and the earth.

Only then could humans live properly. The things that disappeared were called magic. The remnants of this magic were passed down to the creations of Majir and Sisrun. This was why humans could not wield it.

Now, after so much time has passed, even their names are barely remembered. At best, traces of them remain in traditions.

Meanwhile, Majir and Sisrun worried that Iella, left alone, might seek dominance. And so, before becoming the sky and the earth, they combined their powers to create beings in their image—dragons. Their purpose was to watch over Iella and maintain the balance of the world.

Fortunately, nothing happened during the time of the first and second dragons. The problem arose during the reign of the third dragon, Andreas.

At the time, Iella briefly manifested and discovered a man who resembled him. Pouring his divine power into him, he transformed the once-powerless youngest prince into a king.

Later, the man conquered neighboring kingdoms and declared himself emperor. Iella ensured his victory in every battle, and in the process, countless humans and monsters met their deaths.

Andreas believed this disrupted the balance of the world. So, he imposed sanctions to restore the natural order.

The emperor, a tyrant, was cursed to rot whenever he used the power Iella had given him. Eventually, unable to wield his strength, he was driven from the throne, and the empire he had built crumbled. The man, resentful of Iella for giving him everything only to take it away, was stoned to death by the very people he had ruled.

Iella could only watch as the human he had treated like his own child met his ruin.

At the time, Andreas was old—wise and powerful beyond measure. Iella, weakened from the misuse of his power, had no way to intervene. So, he waited, gathering his strength.

Eventually, the fourth dragon, Absalom, was born. And on the day Andreas ascended to the heavens, Iella began his efforts to eliminate the young, inexperienced dragon.

First, he created conflict between humans and monsters through divine prophecy. Then, he thrust the dragon into the heart of it. Before long, Absalom—who was neither human nor monster—was named their king.

But Absalom did not step forward. He did not believe that the conflict between humans and monsters threatened the balance. Monsters had always preyed on humans, and in turn, humans had no choice but to fight back.

As time passed, people grew weary of the endless war. They prayed for the power to exterminate the monsters. Their desperate prayers became a source of power for Iella, who used them to set his plans in motion.

One day, rumors reached Absalom’s ears.

‘Iella has sent an agent to defeat the enemy’s leader.’

To think that Iella would send a mere human to kill a dragon capable of controlling even gods. Intrigued, Absalom decided to observe this agent.

His first impression of the agent was that he was surprisingly plain—contrary to the grandiose titles and rumors surrounding him.

Black hair and brown eyes were a common combination even here. His fair skin was somewhat rare, but it was overshadowed by his otherwise unremarkable features.

Yet, he wasn’t unattractive. The more one looked at him, the more he drew the eye. Absalom decided to observe him further.

After a few days of watching, Absalom found the agent’s life rather dull. He would go out to kill monsters when ordered, then return to train or dote on a lover who seemed indifferent to him. The only notable thing was that he had been conditioned to believe he was a fake agent. Otherwise, there was nothing extraordinary about him.

Yet, Absalom couldn’t take his eyes off him.

‘Alexander.’

He thought the name didn’t suit him. Every time the agent was called by that name, his eyes flickered subtly, and Absalom found it bothersome. He wanted to know why. So, he approached him.

‘My name is Absalom.’

‘……Leehwan.’

Absalom realized this was the agent’s real name. He looked straight into the agent’s brown eyes, which flickered with a mix of expectation and fear, and called his name.

‘Leehwan.’

At that moment, the agent, who had maintained a stoic expression, smiled faintly. It disappeared quickly, but Absalom couldn’t look away from his face for a long time.

Their connection continued. Whenever Leehwan left the Imperial Palace and visited a tavern, Absalom would naturally approach him. Their relationship changed a few months later.

That day, Absalom went to meet Leehwan as usual. But the closer he got, the more he sensed an unpleasant smell.

“You’re here, Absalom?”

Leehwan smiled as if nothing was wrong when he noticed Absalom. It was night, and the dimly lit tavern was shrouded in darkness. If Absalom had been human, he might have been fooled. But his senses—far superior to a human’s—didn’t miss Leehwan’s pale face and bloodless lips.

The tavern’s second floor had rooms for rent. Absalom helped the unusually drunk Leehwan upstairs. Behind them, crude cheers and whistles followed. Normally, he would have ignored them, but strangely, his throat felt parched.

After laying Leehwan on the bed, Absalom checked the side that had been emitting the smell of blood. The clothes beneath the thick coat were already soaked. Removing the shirt revealed a clumsily wrapped bandage.

Absalom cut away the bandage, now soaked red and useless. The wound beneath was a mess. It looked like it had been caused by a monster’s claws, and the mixture of blood and pus suggested it was several days old—left untreated. An inexplicable anger burned inside him.

‘What is this? Didn’t anyone treat you?’

‘Huh? Uh…’

‘And you came here to drink like this? Are you out of your mind?’

Leehwan shook his head aimlessly. Absalom, thinking it was just the ramblings of a drunkard, treated the wound.

Leehwan, who had been watching Absalom with hazy eyes, let his head drop. The sight of it struck Absalom as strangely lonely, so he asked, his tone unintentionally sharp.

‘Did you want to see that lover you’re so proud of?’

Even as he asked, he frowned, dissatisfied with his own question. A hot tear dropped onto the back of his hand. Startled, he looked up to see Leehwan crying.

‘L-Leehwan? Why… are you in pain? Did I wrap the bandage too tight…?’

Leehwan’s face remained expressionless as tears streamed down. Flustered, Absalom fumbled. He wanted to wipe away those tears, so he cupped Leehwan’s cheeks. Leehwan tilted his head and buried his face in Absalom’s palm.

Thud.

It felt like someone had struck his heart with a hammer. Or maybe his head. Absalom closed his eyes, dizzy. If he kept looking at Leehwan like this, he felt he might cross a point of no return.

But he soon had no choice but to open them.

‘I hate this world. I want to leave.’

The voice was small, but to Absalom, it sounded like thunder. He barely managed to move his parched lips.

‘Why… are you saying that? You have a lover, don’t you? And plenty of other things you like…’

Leehwan shook his head. His chapped lips revealed his sincerity.

‘This place is lonely.’

It was a whisper so quiet that only a dragon could have heard it. To think he had to be so cautious, even in his drunken state. Absalom clenched his teeth.

Not long after the treatment, Leehwan passed out. Absalom quietly watched him sleep.

The only one of his kind in this world. In that way, they were very much alike. Absalom wanted to tell Leehwan about this commonality. Then, they could be bound by it, and through it, they would no longer be alone.

But Leehwan wouldn’t want that. Absalom was a dragon—the leader of the monsters Leehwan was ultimately meant to defeat. Realizing this, his heart grew cold. And so, the night passed with an inexplicable chill.

It was only later that Absalom learned the truth. Someone had questioned Leehwan’s divinity. They argued that if Leehwan were truly Iella’s messenger, he wouldn’t be injured by mere monsters, and even if he were, divine protection would heal him instantly. So, Leehwan couldn’t even call a doctor, let alone show any sign of pain.

Behind the scenes, there was a power struggle involving Crown Prince Charles, but to Absalom, that didn’t matter. All he wanted was for that foolish, stubborn man to not be lonely—to be able to express his feelings honestly. That alone would make him happy.

By the time he realized this was the beginning of love, Absalom was already neck-deep in a swamp with no way out.